#gotta support my country somehow

[nicco-ck]

Some Thom as a fencer bc I got inspired by the Olympics

The text in the second pic says

Above him: "messy hair bc of helmet

Beside him: "watched a teammate make a stupid mistake" (Mr. Judgy is making an appearance akfhsk)

[kimmkitsuragi]

also gonna be soooo insane for a minute re:prev post. not me looking at the helsinki gp like 👀 and going hmmmmm 👀

[lay-z]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Germans don't stop there, though. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His friend, his fuckbuddy, his lover.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[twistedpink]

Mc inserts x TWST characters pt.2

(non-yuu pairings that fit into the plot of twst, if you like this then you might want to look at the first part!)

Savanclaw!Mc x Cater Diamond

Enemies to lovers with your favourite diva!! The two of you compete constantly through magicam and spelldrive, getting progressively pettier until the only solution is to kiss it out.. You’re trying to keep an ear out for your junior, and it just so happens Cater’s sniffing out your plan to go for gold in this year’s tournament. You might as well take the chance to mess with him! It’s so easy to love the face he makes when you give him the slip, and you’re totally making it your wallpaper when this is all over.

“Yo, Babe! If you’re in the same dorm, then you know Ruggie, yeah? We need to have a chat”

“Ohmigod you totally think all beastmen know each other, don’t you?? cancled :)”

Shroud!Mc x Vil Schoenheit

Ids attached himself to engineering and gaming pretty early, but your passion is fully unattainable. You’d clung onto pop idols and the art of stage makeup from an early age. Your longest running interest by far is Vil Schoenheit,, He rescued you from destructive habits and encouraged you to value self improvement. You’ve probably invested millions into his career (every thaumark sent anonymously, you’d die if he started to recognize your attached messages). Supporting Ortho in his SDC audition is your official reason to talk with him, and all the teasing from Idia will be so worth it when your Schoenheit debut palette gets signed! You’ve kept it in mint condition behind glass for years admiring it- and waiting for THE day.

“Mr. Schoenheit? My younger brother performed for you today, and uh, your signature please?”

“Normally I’d send both of you home for this. I’m sure you’re well aware of my paparazzi policy, However, I haven’t seen this particular relic in years! Just what have you done to preserve the quality?”

Pomefiore!Mc x Ruggie Bucchi

You’re #1 in the business of pissing off your parents- shopping copious amounts and then going to school across the country satiated you for awhile, but they’ve done something particularly revenge worthy now. The best scandal you can think of is getting a trashy boytoy to bring home for the break, but you’re not really into idiots.. Ruggie can be a very good actor given the right motivations, and he might even fool you into a real relationship before next semester.

“C’mon it’s not like I’ll need a script, sugar. I’m a natural, scout’s honor!”

“Either way, it won’t hurt to rehearse for convenience :/ Kiss me now so we don’t look stupid later.”

Scarabia!Mc x Floyd leech

God you hate that fish faced idiot >:( It’s bad enough that the housewarden’s moodswings guaranteed your holiday plans were all shot, but now Jamil’s getting hounded by the mafia! It’s your responsibility to get them off his back, but it’s not like you’re enjoying it. Somehow it’s even worse to watch Floyd when he’s playing dumb, and his emotional roller coaster keeps you walking on eggshells. The show must go on though, and if you’ve gotta play “wrestle until the biting stops” then you’ll do it :/

“Floyd, it’s dinner time, and I will tear you a new one if it means you’ll get moving.”

“PLEASEEEE tiger sharky just one more round :( I’ll even give your pen back!!”

Octavinelle!Mc x Kalim Al-Asim

You’re probably one of the most talkative of octavinelle students, and definitely a solid salesman. Kalim’s a prime target for resales and marketing practice, so naturally you join the pop music club. A year of “playing nice for the jackpot” leads you to lie awake at night, terrified that he’ll see through your facade and ditch you- it would cut off your best friendship, you’d be forced to leave the club! At some point you realize you’d stopped selling him things months ago, and your worst nightmare happened right under your nose. You fell in love.

“Hey, that solo was so inspiring! You’re really making progress!”

“It still isn’t on par with yours, though. Are you available to keep practicing after school? I’m sure Jamil would appreciate the break, and I would enjoy the company..”

Staff!Mc x Lilia Vanrouge

Of course your first job would come with some pet bat, it was too good to be true :( Full time at a bits and bobs shop near one of the best schools in the country WITH flexible hours? You must’ve been desperate to accept without reading about your babysitting in the footnote. He comes in everyday during your shift (regardless of the hours you take, it’s like he has a sixth sense), and has the audacity to exist in your space! It’s not like he even does anything to get banned!! He just stands there. Menacingly. You’re waiting for the day where he leaves convincing evidence that he’s there to traffic you or something- because if you didn’t know better you’d think he has a big, fat crush on you.

“Darling, how is the shop? I’ve taken care of those juvenile delinquents for you!”

“Taken care of? Whatever. Get back to class, kid.”

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Noticed something about zutarians: for people who claim to be "THE femist ship" they spend too much time praising Zuko for doing chores, being empathetic, supporting women and other stuff he didn't really do in canon all that much.

Like, feminists would consider these a basic level that any normal person, man or woman, should do for their own's sake without any praise. Oohing and aahing "look, he spends time with his own child!", "oh, you washed the dishes, my hero!", "where would I have been if you didn't do the laundry, my knight in shining armor, you really are a savior!" is... very sexist, actually! And zutarians do just that. It’s not enough for them to write him doing chores, they have to emphasize this, compare him to Aang/Sokka/anyone else who of course doesn’t do chores (because no one except Katara and Zuko ever does anything chorelike in these fics it seems), or just outright praise him for that.

Of course, zutara never was a feminist ship, so my observation doesn't add anything new. I understand that zutara kinda fits "female gaze" or whatever, though, it's a women's dream about a perfect partner, which is totally fine by itself – it just has nothing to do with Zuko (and, dare I say, Katara – I doubt she would be so ecstatic about a guy doing "women's chores", she is used to dividing the work around camp and takes it for granted). And that's why I cannot read even relatively harmless zutara fluff – it very often is very focused on this exact subject. I like Zuko for who he is and the truth is 1) he's flawed even after his redemption and 2) a huge part of how he sees himself is his prince title. Nothing of it matches zutara fantasy of a male housewife, so they have a whole other character named Zuko to fit into their imagination land, and I just have no interest in that.

I'm still impressed by that one fic (not in English) where Fantara was 100% sure that Fanfic-Firelord-Zuko will never ever "force any hapless woman" to take care of his newborn daughter (as opposed to her awful, awful husband, Fanfic-Aang who can't even feed his son, who's still eating only breast milk, for several days while Fantara decided to be away). Sure, girl, he's a fucking ruler, he has a whole country to think about, tons of very important shit to do every single day, a full palace of servants, of course he will always personally change diapers, no doubt. I bet he'll even do all the breastfeeding by himself, since his wife died at childbirth and forcing other women is out of the question.

I'm bitter now, and maybe taking it too far but what if – just "what if" – there are very few people who actually ship Katara and Zuko? Because it seems that most content creators in zutara fandom actually ship their two OCs who are very loosely based on these two characters (but don't I dare tell it to their faces, haha, they are under impression that their image of Zuko and Katara is somehow the only correct one).

Just one little disagreement: Zutara doesn't fit the Female Gaze because there's no such thing in the first place. There's not a single trope, way to direct a scene, or romance formula that universally appeals to women, and the same thing can appeal to different women for radically different reasons.

"Male Gaze" and "Female Gaze" were supposed to be a way to point out sexism (and sometimes straight up abuse) in film-making, but it honest God became some bullshit gender-essentialism nonsense REALLY fast. We gotta let that "That is for boys, this is for girls" mentality die.

Aang does chores with Katara. That is completely irrelevant to me shipping Kataang. Aang is not sexist. That doesn't even reach my top 50 reasons to love him as a character. Aang does a lot of things that don't match the idea I was raised to have of a "manly man" and I could not give less of fuck about it. It doesn't bother me, but doesn't particularly appeal to me either.

But for lots of people that is HUGE and some of the main reasons why they love his character and his romance with Katara. And notice I said people, not women.

I like plenty of enemies-to-lovers ships - I don't relate to a single meta/analysis I've ever seen of "Why women like bad boys/enemies to lovers/redeemed villains so much." It all rang hollow to me. But to plenty of women it hits the nail right on the head.

Hell, 50 Shades of Grey is a "romance/erotica" full of accidental misogyny, abuse-apologism, and slut-shaming yet the fanbase is 90% women from all kinds of demographics, and the main thing they praise about these goddamn books/movies is that it did NOT make them feel like they should be ashamed of wanting to have kinky sex with a hot guy.

The Female Gaze isn't real.

[munsonhoneybaby]

my love!!! That final part 🥹 you are a STAR! so good. the way you write dialogue, your Eddie especially... he's so so so lovely to read. somehow you keep his edge but all the while he's the nicest fucking guy to ever walk the earth!!!

if one day you're feeling a blurb about them or something, I'd love to read the first meeting with Wayne - I think it could be so funny and sweet. and honestly I just need an endless stream of that version of Eddie and his sweet nothings and his fondness 🥺 obsessed with everything u do WOW

you’re so sweet !! i'm so happy you enjoyed, thank you so much for reading and sending in this ask !!

series masterlist

“Are you sure about this? I feel terrible taking up his day off with this, he should be enjoying his free time.” Frowning nervously, you picked at a string on your jeans. Though you’d been to their trailer three more times since the first, you’d yet to run into his uncle Wayne. It wasn’t necessarily intentional, but you didn’t particularly want to meet him the morning after sleeping at his home unannounced. So, after making a few passive comments to Eddie about wanting to meet him, you were pleased when Eddie told you Wayne wanted to have lunch with both of you. But now, the nerves were starting to settle in.

“He will enjoy this. He’s been dyin’ to meet you, baby, believe me. I already told you, he’s gonna love you.” Taking your hand over the console, he pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “Besides, we’re just goin’ to lunch at the diner. It’s not a big deal.” Pulling into the open spot next to Wayne’s truck, he put the van in park and looked over at you. “Ready?”

You blew out a breath, “Yeah, I think so.”

As he always did, Eddie got out first and opened your door for you. When you went inside, he instantly spotted Wayne, standing from the booth to greet the two of you. “Hey, Wayne.”

“Hey, kid,” He replied, pulling him into a solid hug. With a subtle yet warm smile, Wayne said your name. You held out a hand to shake but instead were given a fatherly embrace much more careful than the one he’d given his nephew. “I’m glad I could finally meet the young lady makin’ this troublemaker so happy.”

“It’s great to meet you, too. I hope you didn’t have to cancel any big plans to make time for me today,” You jested politely.

He gave a quiet laugh in response and said, “Of course not. Sleepin’ on the couch in the living room ain’t more important than this.” The waitress came to take orders, service coming quick due to the few customers in the diner. “I hear you listen to the same kind’a music as Eddie,” Wayne chimed amiably. “You like his music, too?”

“Of course,” You smile, “I think he’s incredibly talented. I love seeing him perform.” The rockstar in question was embarrassedly hiding his flushed face in his hands.

“I’d come to his shows if I could, but I’m always at work,” Wayne expressed regretfully. “I hear him in his room all the time, but I’ve only seen ‘im on stage once or twice since that middle school talent show. I’m glad he’s got someone he cares about there to support him all the time now.”

The food came, saving Eddie from any further spotlight, and you did your best to continue making conversation between bites. “So, did Eddie get any of his music taste from you?”

“Oh, he’d never admit it, but he tolerates some old country music thanks to me. All that metal and rock stuff is good ‘n I like that he likes it, but it’s not really my speed.”

“I’ve gotta say, it’s a little hard picturing Eds listening to country music,” You chuckle.

“Just when I’m with him,” Eddie specified.

“I’m keeping him open-minded.” The waitress placed a single check on the table and Wayne was quick to open his wallet.

“No, please– let me,” You tried to stop him.

“I would never let a lady pay for a meal. This is my treat, darlin’.” It was becoming clearer and clearer how much of an influence your boyfriend’s uncle had had on his upbringing. Handing the cash and the bill to Eddie, he nodded toward the register. “Go take care’a this.” Eddie looked over at you, but you just smiled reassuringly, so he headed for the counter. Before you could start into another line of polite conversation, Wayne spoke. His voice was gruff, quiet. There was sentiment in his tone, though he tried to hide it. “I really am glad you and Eddie found each other. I’m sure you know by now that not many people in this town give ‘im a chance. I would never wanna embarrass the boy, but he hasn’t exactly introduced me to many girls in his life. I’m glad he’s found one that’s a little more like him– that understands him.”

After glancing back at Eddie, handing over the money for your meal with a kind smile, you gave Wayne a fond look. “He cares a lot about you too, you know. It means the world to him that you took over when his Dad went to jail. And I don’t know if it means anything coming from me, but I think you did an amazing job with him.”

You could’ve sworn you saw a tear well in his eye, but he looked away briefly before you could see for sure. It didn’t seem like people acknowledged his parenting effort often.“You’re a sweet young woman. You’re real good for him.”

“I appreciate that,” You responded honestly.

You both started to box up the leftover food and– just before Eddie came back to the table– Wayne added, “I’ll have to show you the few baby pictures I’ve still got around of ‘im,” making you chuckle.

Eyes narrowing slightly as he gave Wayne his change, Eddie asked, “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing,” You answered playfully as you stood from the booth. His uncle did the same after leaving a generous tip for the kind pregnant woman who’d waited on you. The three of you headed for the parking lot, stopping briefly to say your goodbyes before you split up. “You’ll have to let me cook for you sometime,” You insisted. 

With another one of those barely-there smiles, Wayne clasped a hand over Eddie’s shoulder paternally. “You’ve got a good one here, boy, you’d better take good care’a her.”

Before he could respond, you assured him, “He does, Mr. Munson.”

“Oh, please, never call me that. It’s Wayne. It was nice meeting you. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Of course, I’m sure I’ll see you again soon.”

Once you were back in the van with Eddie, he put the key in the ignition before pausing and looking over at you. “So, what did you two talk about while I was gone?”

“None of your business, nosy.”

Dramatically starting the van, he backed out of the parking spot as he replied, “Y’know what? Fine. Now I’m not gonna tell you about Jeff’s date with that chick from his calc class.”

“Hey, wait, c’mon–”

<3

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[wisteriagoesvroom]

Blind Date x Forgotten First Meeting AU landoscar

Hilarity of slightly mutual friend groups so they assume the other is the other half of the blind date (they aren’t 😂 friends assume they are too different to work) even tho they don’t *know* each other but one of them (A) remembers a very young encounter/friendship that really struck a cord in A and has been on their mind forever but assumes B has completely forgotten or it wasn’t as profound or B doesn’t realize the other component is A (would be funny if B talks about the friendship/encounter around A at some point but has no fucking clue the person B is talking about is right fucking there 😭😭😭)

As I was writing this it definitely felt like lando would be more B and oscar more A but I trust this in your hands wiz 🧡

Feel free to ignore blind date aspect if it flows better another way ✌🏻

Idea for very young encounter totally not ripped off from an episode of Bluey: they meet at a campsite locale to one of them as little kids and spend the entire week just getting along like a house on fire but eventually the week ends and the other has to go back to his country and they are too young to keep in contact. Bluey episode totally not for reference cause it’s really really cute 8 minutes 😭😭😭 https://www.bluey.tv/watch/season-1/camping/

-brooke <3

brooke/ @scuderiabs my friend i literally sat on this for so long cus i genuinely wasn’t sure what else i could add to your gourmet ask right here.

but! on the night of the blue suit oscar debut, it’s perfect because either of these would work beautifully… especially if oscar or lando met again at a friend’s wedding (alex albon’s is always gonna be my default setting for romcom-at-the-wedding AUs).

and obviously we gotta have some supporting visuals so here you go:

and ahoy… maybe a glimpse into this world.

snippet below:

————

“I didn’t think it was you.”

“Why?!”

“You look… the same. But different.” Oscar says, tapping the rim of his glass.

The evening light’s dipping into darkness, sky going blue and sooty. Yellow candlelight casts soft circles on Lando’s face. The years have been kind to him. He’s handsome, in a way that endears easily, draws people close to him in a way that works well for Alex’s large contingent of groomsmen.

“How different?”

“Older.”

“Well you look exactly the same as you did when I kicked your arse at tennis. Remember the instructor?”

“Yeah. Thomas was never subtle about the cigarette breaks behind the shed.”

“Pretty funny when your serve hit that citroën though.” Lando shakes his fists in the air dramatically.

“Arrêté!” Lando adds, in a poor imitation of Thomas, the very harried summer school tennis instructor.

Oscar snorts with undignified laughter. One of Alex’s stern Thai aunts looks at him disapprovingly.

“Sorry.” Oscar mumbles. This is far too much emotion for a communal setting. A flush creeps up his neck, and he wonders if he’s getting a food allergy. Maybe it’d be easier if he disappeared to the bathroom to play tetris on his phone and stay inconspicuous like he’d planned after all. Or maybe he could walk into a wall and take refuge in an ambulance.

“I think I saw a tennis court out there earlier.” Lando says, sipping his gin and tonic. There’s a sprig of boysenberry in Lando’s that somehow perfectly matches the cheery boutonnière on his brown suit. Oscar’s not sure how Lando got the bartender to do that up as a special, because it was presumably off menu from the carefully curated wedding drinks. (Probably Lando’s bizzare Prince-Charming-via-Clapham-Common act, and god knows the charm offensive has been working on him too. Nonetheless, it’s really the least of Oscar’s priorities at the moment.)

Because Oscar is looking at Lando’s face. At the quizzical slant of the other man’s brow. He’s watching as Lando leans in curiously, knee just microscopically close enough that they could touch. Though Lando stops just short of doing so, as if sensing that Oscar needs to come in willingly.

Oscar knows Lando has been flirting with him all night. Saying look at you in that amused voice, finding excuses to clink their glasses together far beyond the wedding toasts were over, with flimsy excuses to do so (“god save the queen!” “she’s long gone, mate.” “then god save us all!”).

They’ve also been reminiscing about that one summer camp from over a decade ago. From when they’d lost touch, and all the things that have happened in their lives since. Life in Australia, life in England. Finishing Engineering school. One dropping out of college to pursue music. Births and deaths and having to pay taxes now.

And of all the millions of possible places, of the skipped stops and lost connections in the world; of all the phone numbers and emails and social pages they’ve near-missed, they’ve met again, right here.

Oscar remembers summer sun. Shouting across the net, knocking elbows. Chocolate and marshmallows stuffed into a baguette, sticky on his hands. Dogeared detective novels passed back and forth. A blur of curly hair streaking past him, both of them jumping headfirst into a lake, surfacing to take in huge lungfuls of air.

“You fancy a rematch?” Oscar asks, sipping the last of his drink. He’s not sure if he’s talking only about tennis.

But he doesn’t break eye contact, and hopes Lando understands what he’s really asking.

Lando’s gaze stays steady at him.

A corner of Lando’s mouth tips up into a smile.

(Cicadas hum outside. It’s summer, again.)

“I thought you’d never ask.”

[jjsmaybank20]

Family Plans

Wanda Maximoff x GN!Reader

Summary: Wanda has never had a big family. You promise to make up for that lack by inviting her into your own.

Warnings: all fluffy family shit, mentions of loved ones passing away

Word Count: 1.6k

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---

Wanda never thought that she would ever be truly happy again after everything that she had been through. She had lost her parents, her brother, her country. She thought that her childhood dream of a big wonderful family was completely gone. That was, until she met you. 

You were there for her when Pietro passed away, and you supported her when she needed a shoulder to cry on. Every step of the way, there you were. You were the first person she fully trusted, and she was the first person that you fully opened up to. It was clear as day to anyone that the two of you were in love, so no one was surprised when you started dating.

A couple months later, you asked her to marry you. She didn’t hesitate to say yes. Sometimes she couldn’t help but think that this was all a dream, and that she was going to wake up and alone, or worse, in HYDRA’s grasp once again. Somehow you always knew when she was feeling like this, and you reassured her that all of it was real and that you were right there for her, no matter what.

Now you were in the car, on the way to your hometown for Thanksgiving so that Wanda could meet your family for the first time. She had met your parents and siblings, sure, but she had yet to meet your loads and loads of cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. 

Wanda looks over at you from the passenger seat, watching you turn up the country radio station that you were listening to. You start to sing along to a song that comes on, bopping your head and tapping the steering wheel to the beat. “You're all alone at a party, You want to dance with somebody, But you ain't got a clue how to ask, You and your girl had a fight, And now she's saying goodbye, She ran upstairs and packed her bags.”

As you sing, Wanda can hear your country accent come out, just like it does when you get worked up or excited about something. You glance over at her, making sure to catch her eye before you dance sporadically in your seat while singing the pre-chorus. “It could be raining' on your perfect vacation, You could be stressed about your work situation, Ain't gotta listen to me but all I'm sayin'.” You pause for a second before jumping into the chorus and clenching your hand pretending that you are holding a microphone.

“Ain't nothin' that a beer can't fix, Ain't no pain it can't wash away, From the moment that it hits your lips, Makes those clouds look a little less grey! Oh you could be lonely, or heartbroken, Or hungover from the night before, Turn that frown into a smile real quick, There ain't nothin' that a beer can't fix.” Wanda laughs out loud at the sight of you bouncing around. She then just stares at you, wondering how she got so lucky.

You catch her looking, taking your eyes off of the road for a second. “What? You don’t like my dancing?” Still catching her breath, Wanda shakes her head in disagreement. “No, no, I love your dancing. I love you.” You smile at her while grabbing her hand and placing a kiss on it. “I love you too, baby.”

---

As you pull into your parent’s driveway, you give Wanda’s hand a comforting squeeze. She can’t help but feel nervous, knowing how people have reacted to her and her powers in the past. But knowing you, she should have known not to worry.

As soon as you step onto the porch, the door swings open and a horde of kids come running out, closely followed by multiple dogs. The children immediately attach themselves to your legs, and you have to quickly grab onto something so that they don’t knock you over. Your frazzled brother runs to the door, trying to get the kids to let go while apologizing, but you wave him off.

You take the kids off of you and herd them inside with an amused Wanda following closely behind. As you get further into the house, the sound of multiple conversations and children screaming gets louder. You finally get into the kitchen and spot your mother. 

“Hey, Mom! Happy Thanksgiving. Sorry we’re late, traffic was a mess on the way out of New York.” You pull her into a hug before turning around to say something to Wanda, but she isn’t behind you anymore. You look around the kitchen before glancing into the living room. There you spot her talking to your favorite uncle. 

As you approach them, you can hear him say, “Hey. You make Y/N so damn happy, which puts you in a great place in my books. If you’re their family, then you’re our family.” You can see Wanda tear up slightly and excuse herself out onto the back deck. You follow her out and sit down next to her on a bench.

“What’s up, Wands?” She glances up at you, shrugging her shoulders. “It’s stupid.” You kneel down in front of her and grab both of her hands while shaking your head. “No, no it’s not. What is it?” She looks up at the sky, sighing. “I’ve just- I’ve just never had a big family before. Honestly, for a long time it was just me and Pietro. Then it was just me. But now I have you, and your family. I never thought that I would get this.”

You smile up at her. “You will never have to experience that ever again. I will always be your family, and even if my family isn’t always there, we can start our own. Whatever you want, I’m here for you.” She pulls you up and into a hug and you quickly reciprocate. 

Suddenly, you hear the glass sliding door open and the quiet footsteps of a small child on the deck floor. You turn around and spot your youngest nephew, James, shyly making his way towards the two of you. You wave him over, and he quickly comes and hugs your leg. You lift him up so that he is at eye level with both you and Wanda, and he hides his face in your neck when Wanda waves at him.

You tickle his sides which makes him giggle and squirm in your arms. Wanda watches the whole interaction, realizing that she really does want to start a family with you. James then glances over at Wanda before quietly asking, “Are you really an Avenger?” Wanda nods, and it’s like James becomes a whole new person.

His face lights up, and he quickly climbs over to Wanda, who is slightly shocked at how fast he got into her arms. He doesn’t even notice her surprise as he enthusiastically rants about how impressed his friends are going to be that he met an actual Avenger. You look at him, playfully hurt. “You do know that I’m also an Avenger, right?” 

James nods before saying, “But like, she’s one of the super powerful ones that all of my friends love.” You gap at the boy, slightly wounded by his words, but as soon as you see the elated look on your fianceè’s face, any of the offense that you had taken melted away. 

Instead of teasing him for basically saying that you're not a cool Avenger, you tell him, “You know that she’s going to be your Auntie soon, right?” James gasps in excitement before wrapping his little arms around Wanda’s neck and squealing, “I can’t wait!” He then hops out of her arms and runs inside, wanting to tell all the other kids about their cool soon-to-be aunt.

You look at Wanda’s happy face, pulling her into your arms. She looks like she is thinking about something before she blurts out, “I want kids.” She pauses for a second before processing what she had said, and she immediately starts apologizing. You quickly interrupt her with a short, “Me too.” She pauses, slightly thrown off. “You do?” You nod, grinning down at her. “I do. I want a boy. I think he should be named Thomas.”

Wanda shakes her head, quickly rebutting, “I like William more.” You laugh, starting to walk the two of you back inside. “Well, whatever their name is, they’ll be ours, and that’s all that matters.” Wanda rests her head on your shoulder, silently agreeing with you, and imagining your own little family.

---

Join my taglist!

[scifrey]

Listen.

If you've read my fics, you know that I love history. I love pageantry. I love symbolism. I love beautiful clothes, and art, and jewels. I love going behind the scenes and seeing into castles and manor houses. I love parades, and the hidden meaning behind coronations, and the fairytale unreality of the lives of the gentry.

I believe, however, that all of these things should be ARTIFACTS.

I believe there is literally no point in upholding a monarchy or commonwealth any more.

Allow commonwealth countries become republics. Allow Scotland, Northern Ireland, and Wales to return to being seperate nations if they vote to become so. Allow those republics to create their own network of mutual support, should they so choose to. There's no reason to not keep up Commonwealth ties and festivals even if there's no Commonwealth.

Repatriate artifacts, art and jewels to their nations of origin. Offer monetary compensation/support for cultures violated and impoverished by colonialism. Help establish democracies where needed, and butt the hell out where they're not. (And especially don't establish puppet democracies, ew.)

Let the British royal family become symbolic tourist attractions, let them fund their own charities, and throw their parties, and knight their artists, and uphold their royal orders of garters and baths, and maintain their personal properties--and make them do it with their own wealth and real estate investments. They're multi-billionaires. They can afford it. They'll be fine.

But remove them from the machine of governance. Detach them entirely from public spending, dependance, or influence.

And if they do participate in traditions of parliament (like the Opening, which is actually really cool and fascinating panto, which I quite like and hope they WOULD continue), man, do it without the silly hat. If the King wants to wear the silly hat, make him pay for the upkeep of the silly hat out of his own pocket. It's HIS silly hat, after all. It's not like we all get a turn with it, even though we do pay for it.

(Actually, the Crown Jewels are owned by the British Public so like... if they want to take them along when they go, make the royal family buy them. And then let them charge museums a fee to loan them for exhibition, just like privately owned paintings by famous Masters are loaned to art galleries.)

Let the royals continue to do all the things the royals do, if they want to do them. Just… make them pay for it themselves. Dissolve the Sovereign Grant, and use all that money to pay for things like restitution, repatriation, and hey maybe increasing public spending on health care and social infrastructure.

Turn the public-owned properties into, yeah, tourist attractions in part (gotta fund their upkeep somehow). But also put public offices in there. Maybe some social housing. Maybe hospitals, with well-paid front-line staff. Event spaces. Seniors care homes. Something.

If Hampton Court Palace can do it, so can Buckingham.

Balmoral and Sandringham are privately owned, there's lots of land and buildings for the family to occupy. They won't be homeless.

Keep the royal family, if the royal family wants to be kept. Include the royal family if the royal family wants to be included. Just make them pay for their own stuff with their own money. And do BETTER things with the savings.

Yes, I'm aware that this may be wishful thinking.

Yes, I'm aware that unscrupilous people may take advantage of monetary support given to commonwealth nations and keep it for themselves. (And I'm not unaware that it would happen in ALL the nations, yes, even Canada where I live. There are a LOT of currently-serving politicians who are vile, scummy, self-serving arseholes.) Yes, I'm aware that mutual support between nations of the commonwealth is all that is preventing famine or religious war in some places.

Yes, I'm aware none of this is as easy as I'm making it sound.

But I think it's time to stop celebrating and upholding centuries of brutal militaristic colonialism and the destruction and subversion of so many beautiful cultures for the sake of some tourist bucks. I especially think it's time for the public to stop PAYING for it.

I love history. I love symbolism. I love the stories of royalty and treachery and gallantry and seduction. I love the architecture of great houses, and the meaning behind golden spoons from over a thousand years ago, and the fascination of birthrights and bloodlines. I love paintings, and balls, and the gorgeous work of exceptionally talented artisans that go into making all the amazing silly hats.

I write historical romances for goshsakes.

And I also think it's time to stick it all where it belongs -- in a museum.

[moncey-imagines]

Disneyland Trip Headcanons | Sans x GN!Reader

IT TOOK A REALLY LONG TIME BUT HERE IT IS LADIES, GENTLEMEN, AND BINARYLESS BUDDIES!!! PART TWO!!! this time papyrus is in it teehee

!!THIS HAS NOT BEEN PROOF-READ OR EDITED!!

no warnings here hehe, this is part two of this fic.

* Really? I mean, yeah! Of course papyrus can come!

* YIPPEE! I CANNOT WAIT TO DISCOVER THE WONDERS OF DISNEYLAND!

* Ah- Were you standing there the whole time?

* YES! JUST IN CASE YOU SAID YES TO ME TAGGING ALONG!

* Why?

* i told him to.

* But why?

* TO KNOW WHEN TO START PACKING!

After Papyrus’ excited and frantic observations and questions the whole trip there, you were excited to have your skeleton boyfriend and his brother experience the park.

* WOWIE! WHAT IS THAT?

* Sleeping Beauty castle?

* LIKE THE MOVIE SLEEPING BEAUTY? CAN WE BE PUT UNDER A SLEEPING CURSE TOO? JUST LIKE IN THE MOVIE?

* Um…no, that would be dangerous to guests I think…

* bummer.

* SANS, YOU DON’T EVEN NEED A SLEEPING CURSE! YOU FALL ASLEEP EVERYWHERE!

* what was that, bro? sorry, i took a quick nap.

The questions from Papyrus, as silly some of them could be, really tested your knowledge in a really fun way.

* WHAT IS HIS NAME? WHAT IS HE DOING? WHY IS HE LOOKING AT US THAT WAY?

* That’s the Hatbox Ghost, he’s just standing there but there is a theory and a book supporting evidence that says that he’s scaring you out the window, where you fall to your death in the graveyard, and that’s why all the ghosts after are dancing and celebrating.

* WHY ME?

* Well, it’s nothing personal against specific guests, he just kind of…wants another ghost in the house, I guess?

* this is probably a personal attack against my bro. we gotta destroy him.

* NO, BROTHER! AS OFFENSIVE AS PERSONALLY CHOOSING ME WOULD BE, WE CANNOT DESTROY HIM! WE WOULD BE KICKED OUT OF THE PARK!

* Papyrus is right, we could even be arrested…

* shame. guys already dead, and we would get arrested for killin’ him again? Society.

* SOCIETY INDEED, BROTHER…

* Society…

Despite his questions being fun, Papyrus easily wore you out. Thankfully, he, somehow, had a very weak bladder, leaving you and Sans alone waiting for him often. It was a nice change of pace, even for just a moment.

* Here’s our snacks…

* what’d ya get?

* Well, I got beignets and mint juleps, enough for all three of us.

* mmm, those smell good…

* They’re the same things Tiana made in the beginning of Princess and the Frog! Due to both the beignets and the proximity to Critter Country, they turned this place into Tiana’s restaurant from the movie.

* oh, yeah. the one at the end that looked like a big boat, right?

* Yeah…have you been watching Disney movies?

* yeah, paps really wanted to marathon them. I also watched a few extra just to keep up with your facts.

* Aw…Sans, that’s so sweet…

* it’s no skin off my nose.

* Hehehe…bonehead…

During particularly long lines, Sans chose to ride your back. He’s not very heavy at all, really just the weight of clothes and bones, so he wasn’t much of a hassle to hold.

* REALLY, SANS? POOR [Y/N] IS STUCK CARRYING YOU BECAUSE 15 MINUTES IS TOO LONG TO STAND FOR YOU?

* It’s okay, Papyrus, he’s really light…and it’s nice to be so close to him…

* OH! IT’S A ROMANTIC MOMENT! BEAUTIFUL! I WILL TURN AROUND AND LEAVE YOU LOVE BIRDS TO YOUR ROMANCE!

* romantic, huh? consider me a certified heart throb then.

* Already considered. You make my knees weak…

* you send shivers up my spine.

* You rush my blood to my cheeks…

After a while, you heard Papyrus crying, muttering about how beautiful your love was. You also realized he was handed a lollipop by some random kid and had begun eating it.

* Papyrus, where did you get that?

* A GENEROUS HUMAN GIFTED IT TO ME!

* Huh?

* THAT ONE!

* That…child?

* YES! HE SAID HE LIKED MY OUTFIT AND GAVE ME HIS LOLLIPOP! I COULD NOT SEND THE POOR BOY AWAY WITHOUT A GIFT OF MY OWN, SO I GAVE HIM OUR BEIGNETS!

* aw, i wanted to eat those later.

* It’s okay, I have more.

* where?

* Secret…

* secret…

* SECRET!

* i think he’s passed out. Shame he didn’t get to see the fireworks.

* It’s okay, we’ll come back sometime.

* today was really nice.

* It was…

* oh, here, i bought this for you.

* Wow…is this…

* yeah, you said it was your favorite ride…i saw the plush and thought you should add it to your collection.

* When..?

* when we were walking, i saw it…i snuck away at some point to shortcut over and get it for you.

* Aw…thank you, Sans…I love you so much…

* i love you too.

HEHEHEH THIS TOOK FOREVER IM SO SORRY HOPE EVERYONE LIKES IT!!

[n0tafanficwriter]

I was made for lovin' you, baby

CHAPTER 1: ALL OUT OF LOVE

It was 1996, and John Marston just got a divorce with his wife over an obvious stupid action made on his behalf. He sighed, knowing now until forever he'll have to pay some sort of child support to a child he still wasn't sure was his. That didn't matter, though. What mattered was the fact that he needed to get his life together somehow. Sitting at the payphone, John dialed Arthur's house phone. He pressed the cigarette he had in his hands against his lips, hoping for him to pick up. "God, this was stupid," Marston mumbled to himself. Eventually, God answered a prayer. Arthur finally answered the phone that had been ringing for almost 30 minutes.

"Hello?" A gruff country voice answered the phone. John perked up excitedly. "Ah! Arthur. My brother!" He said kinda loud, getting odd looks by a few passing strangers. "John? What did you do? " John was almost offended by the question Arthur asked him on the other line. He gasped, acting all hurt at first before answering the damn question. "Me and Abigail got a divorce," he said, taking a draw from the dimly lit cigarette. "And now I gotta pay children support. Oh, and I'm homeless, " John said almost as if he seeked some sort of petty from Morgan. Arthur sighed before answering "fine you can stay. But don't think for a second, me or Charles, will clean up the mess you made with Abigail, " the brunette said. "Pfft, me and Abigail old news. I'm a new man now Arthur Mo-" John groaned. The call ran out. Oh well, he thought to himself. At least he had a place to stay now.

An hour passed, and John arrived at Arthur and Charles' place. Charles opened the door to the disgruntled man in front of him. John looked like an experiment gone wrong. He had eye bags along with poorly done eyeliner. Not to mention the fact he smelled like a love child of booze and cigarettes. The man grimaced at the sight of him. "Uh, bad day?" Charles asked John. John groaned as a response and made himself at home already by letting himself in. "Okay then," Charles said to himself before heading over to the shared room he had with Arthur to tell him his annoying little brother was here. John plopped onto the couch, burying his face into the sofa. He felt like crying, but the emotions weren't coming out properly. He groaned once more. Arthur came into the living pulling John off the couch. "No time to morn over your failed marriage, John. You did this yourself." He said, dragging him off the couch.

John protested against this action. He wanted to rot up onto that couch. "Ugh, Arthur, tell me why I gotta." he looked up at his older sibling with the most saddest and pathetic expression. Arthur let go of John, making an 'oof' sound as he hit the floor. Arthur rubbed his temples already done with him "because you'll lay there for God knows how long smelling like a rotting corpse cus you'll refuse to shower," he answered that stupid question asked by John fucking Marston. After a few minutes, John got off the floor. He's a new man now, he told himself. He doesn't need Abigail. Or, well, she doesn't need him. Eh, either way, they are better off without each other. John decided to shower that maybe that would take a load off his shoulders. Yet again, making himself at home, he grabbed some clothes he left here a while back and headed towards the shower. After this, he's gonna have a new life.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

CHAPTER 2: BREAK MY STRIDE

It's been 3 months. 3 whole months since the divorce. God, did it dwell on John, but like he told himself, he was getting his life together. Though he didn't have a job or money.. or even a car. He was still improving. Crazy what a few months can do to a person. Arthur cheered him on the side lines, supporting his little brother. It was good to see him become someone he always wished him to be. Though John did still have downfalls that weighed him down heavily, it wasn't too surprising, though. People can't magically change overnight. Though it'd be a dream come true. Oh well, it's not important as of this moment. Out of nowhere without warning, a call from Javier Escuella came in. John was the lucky bastard to pick up the phone.

"Hello." Marston said with a yawn. He just woke up from a little well long nap. "Ay!! Is that John Marston, I hear?!!!" Javier said excitedly. He hadn't heard his voice in a long ass time. "Oh! Javier hi, " the divorced man said. He was also excited to hear from him as well. "So, friend, I was wondering if you and uh, Arthur wanted to come to my place for a get-together, you know, for our band reunion," the other man on the phone said. It took a moment for John to process the words that were being said he thought about it. The last time Javier saw him is when he was 18 and chugging shot guns in the back of a high school to impress some girl. The band fell apart over some stupid argument caused by Micah that night. "I guess we can come, yeah." Marston said while nodding his head. "Ah! Amazing." Javier said also sharing the location and the fact it's tonight at six fuck.

John ended up telling Arthur 20 minutes after the call. "At 6?" Arthur huffed. He was sitting on his boyfriend's lap. John hated looking at the pda, but it wasn't his house. "Yeah, it's at 6. I don't know why he chose today to tell us, " John groaned then again it was Javier, so it did make lick of sense to him. He didn't have anything good to wear. I mean, it's not like cared at all what he wore. He just didn't want Javier to know he's a divorce mess. "Do you think i could come?" Charles randomly asked. Arthur leaned against him "Absolutely you can come. You're gonna be my plus 1 anyways," Morgan smiling over at him. Yuck is all John thought. He wasn't homophobic. Far from it. He just didn't like the cringe ass romance. Well, it was time to get ready for a damn reunion.

[red-akara]

I’m playing through Disco Elysium as of late and I’ve been finding it weirdly encouraging?

Just something about an amnesiac down on his luck detective who’s lost literally everything and yet must somehow solve a murder in town is kinda relatable to certain things going on in my life right now.

I haven’t lost my memory nor am I homeless, but I have been hit with financial crisis after financial crisis. My savings are basically gone. I’m now in debt to both my parents for helping me fix my car and my brother for a plane ticket from last thanksgiving, and my landlady and owner of the place I rent is leaving the country, so I gotta find a new place to live in about a month.

It’s hard not to feel like my world is imploding. Just like the detective does. But he slowly pieces things together. He makes little breakthroughs. The game provides him with just enough to get by. And he has the moral support of his case partner.

There’s a quote in the game which goes:

“After life - death

After death - life again

After the world - the pale

After the pale - the world again”

It’s a beautiful quote, one that speaks to the theme of the game. Some things end. Some things collapse. Some things get destroyed. Yet in those same events, new things begin. Rebuild. Recreate.

The past couple months have been a huge testing of my faith. But I have hope still that it will all be okay. That something new is coming, as terrifying and exciting as the unknown can be. I have more than I think I do. And I know I have the support to make it through.

[thedragonchilde]

G Gundam meta notes, eps 35-39:

"Showdown! Bursting Machinegun Punch"

-the first appearance of Master's death cough?

-George seems so much shallower then the others when you put it that way. I'll have to pay extra attention to him in coming eps because he's more of an enigma than he seems

-Chibodee actually seems really anguished about this, dang

-and he switches from name back to epithet to create distance, interesting

-”work with me on this!” ayup, Chibodee needs hype as a motivator

-”reflecting a tradition of calm and simplicity” sure, that sounds like Domon 

-"better than he's ever been"

-”and most of all, it's for you”

-"you sure know how to make me happy"

-"CHIBODEE HAS LIT A FIRE IN DOMON'S SOUL"

-oh my god everything out of their mouths at this point, I can't keep up with listing every quote they're coming so fast

-”I can feel your dream”

-”your hunger ignited a fire within me”

-”you're a great rival!” :) gotta get that hype in there

-oooh, that fade in, did Chibs actually get knocked out for a few seconds?? Concussion check!

-you can practically see the shoujo bubbles, seriously, check the soft focus - and Domon is such an encouraging friend! It's so sweet, even if you're not a useless queer like me. In fact, it's a nice callback to their original faceoff! (And literally supportive too, even; I do love a good 'leaning on/propping up your teammate'. Although now I have to go back and note whether Domon reassures his friends on the regular or if it's just Chibodee–)

"A Knights' Pride! Gundam Rose Stolen"

-”I'm focusing solely on you” George, that's a little gay

-George talking with a rose in his mouth though, great line delivery

-"the Gundam Fight is not a sport" that's,,, hm. Certainly not how they seem to treat it. Interesting highlight of the difference between the fighters and the politicos

-hmm, it says something interesting that this is the circumstance in which we see George cry

-'knight' is a wildly anachronistic position, but there's something up here, as he clearly has some hangups about his self-worth tied up in fighting and country and,,,

-aside from Domon putting Shining to rest, this is the only other time we see someone talking to their Gundam. Rose really is George's lady, huh

-"just this one time I wish to fight only for myself" ooooh this has such juicy implications! (A ‘gilded cage’ corollary to Argo, re: fighting as freedom?)

-even at his most passionate he's still… restrained? That's not quite the right word. But like he almost doesn't know how to let himself go, even when he's clearly already gone

-"I've been devoutly loyal to x all my life (at the expense of my sense of self) but now I wanna do something for me" is so good

-it's almost like he believes fighting is the only thing he's good for. Something to dig into

"Sai Saici's New Attack! Blazing Dragon Gundam"

-Rain is so insecure about her place in Domon's life among fighters, and that's interesting, but she was never threatened before Allenby, which is understandable but somewhat less interesting

-Allenby calling Sai ‘kid’ and ‘baby boy’ like she's not closer to his age than Domon's 

-damn, Domon really gets Sai

-okay Wong almost made that sound like he's somehow in on Master being sick

-man, Zuisen and Keiun keep underestimating Sai. Like, nice job breaking it hero

-Sai’s dad was hot. I'm gonna guess Sai will grow up nice ;)

-I wonder what Shin Ryusen Kochouken would be in Mandarin (or whatever Chinese dialect Sai would speak)

-There's probably some cool stuff to be said about Asian solidarity by someone more knowledgeable than me. But like. These are really bros and I love it. Need more of this dynamic tbh

-aw, Rain getting the martial artist bond (so long as it's not with Allenby I guess)

"Domon vs. Argo! Charging Bolt Gundam"

-why would Neo Russia cover up something against a criminal they'd want more against? 

-Wong tortures people now, cool cool

-you don't always get to notice it, but Argo's eyes are such a pretty icy blue

-oh, it's "us" now, is it, Nastasha?

-I'm struggling with words on this one, and it might be because I've screamed over it too many times over the years (esp about things like how fucked up the hologram is, or The Date), like I feel I'm repeating myself

-or that I'm just wordlessly screaming at Argo and Nastasha because I fucking love them

-Argo just takes the whole damn fish

-Nastasha can cook! 

-interesting that she notices a superstition

-they go back and forth on whether they're using Berserker

-ARGO THAT SHOUT WAS DOWNRIGHT MUSICAL

-”now we can focus solely on each other” lil gay there Domon

-GET HIM, MASTER

-”I haven't forgotten my duties as the Black Joker” mind filling us in on what those duties are? 

-finally get tears from Argo and it's in flashback

-"Argo, you're awesome" :)

-"one x for the both of us" is SO GOOD, YOU GUYS

-"your fists have shown me the light to my soul" sounds kind of goofy but this situation is actually a really cool application of 'communicating with your fists' - Argo being someone who shows himself to be so respectful of life is incongruent with the incident the way Andrew remembers it, so the reality of current actions fills in the blanks of the past. This probably isn't coming out right.

"The Ultimate Attack! Duel With Master Asia"

-it's only a split second, but Argo has a nice butt

-tapping into Rain's insecurities about being needed, I see

-way to give the viewer whiplash re: Domon - show him being a jerk to Rain, then follow it with him being adorable with Fuunsaiki 

-,,,he communicates with the horse better than he does with Rain

-I don't know what that says about him but it's fuel for the autistic headcanon

-”are you trying to tell me I should ride you?” Now there's something that can be taken out of context

-what a messy divorce

-I wanna know when they actually mean ‘defeat’ and when they mean ‘kill’

-oh wow, Master Asia can actually get injured?

-”I could leave you behind” yeah, but you won't

-"the one thing I never taught you",,, and then proceeds to not teach him before asking him to do it. Unless they handwaved/skipped that part for us

-oooh, motive rant! And in case we forgot about the crapsack world setup from the early episodes, y'know, more fuel for the anti-war environmentalist fire

-the horse gets a suit-up!

-you know what, Domon, I get that you were worried, but you fuckin deserve Rain leaving

[roydeezed]

Some Thoughts about - Poker Face

So like I know I'm late to the party but hot damn! is this show so much of what I love.

First of all I need to gush over Natasha Lyonne. Not only does she play Charlie as a snoopy little gremlin incredibly well, but when she's not snooping, her everywoman acting is so sincere and heartfelt. And beyond her acting, her directing in episode 8, The Orpheus Syndrome is jaw-dropping. It's a surrealist thriller masterpiece along the lines of fucking Suspiria and Vertigo. Throughout the whole episode I was captivated and entranced and it wasn't until I checked the credits that I realised why it was so impactful. I haven't watched much of her directorial efforts outside episode 8 of Russian Doll, but it seems like her style has always been surrealist. I gotta check it out.

And speaking of Vertigo and Hitchcock, I think after the longest time, we finally have a director that rivals his sensibilities in Rian Johnson. Hitchcock was a piece of shit but it's undeniable that his thrillers were tense masterpieces. If you don't believe me, check out my personal favourite in Rear Window. But not only does Rian Johnson remind me of Hitchcock at his best, with mysteries such as Brick and the Glass Onion movies and now Poker Face, his penchant for creating affable Detectives with kind hearts reminds me of Agatha Christie's characters in Miss Marple and Poirot.

But that's all surface level talk so below the cut I'm gonna get into some deeper thoughts and what I think the overarching themes are. Heavy spoilers below!

And speaking of themes, I wanna go over what they are, and how Episode 7, 8, and 9 helped me figure it out. At least one of the central ones. And that being Guilt.

After praising it so much, I do think I need to offer up some criticism, as I do have some. While a lot of comparisons have been made to Columbo, I think one of the key differences is that the culprits aren't always from high society, to the shows detriment. And as Charlie isn't a cop and instead fleeing across the country, it makes sense and leaves room for interesting stories. But every once in a while, like Episode 7, The Future of the Sport, starring Charles Melton and Tim Blake Nelson, both of whom I adore, you get a emotionally and socially dissonant story. As somehow the blue collar worker who's fighting against nepotism in an industry still has to be the bad guy. While it supported the themes, it still left a bad taste.

Now, you might be saying, it's a show about murders, of course it's about guilt. But it's not in the way you're thinking. Unless you are, in which case, welcome to smart people town. Population you, cause outside of this I'm still pretty much a dumbass.

Moving on, let's go over it. Poker Face talks of an unwarranted guilt. I'm sure Rian Johnson and co had a pithier phrase to represent it but what it means is that it represents a kind of survivors guilt. In Charlie's conversation with David Castaneda's character Jimmy in where she admits how much Natalie's death has weighed on her. And with the reveal that he wasn't directly responsible for her death through selling her bad coke, and the previous episodes where Tim Blake Nelson's and Nick Nolte's character's both realise they weren't the culprits, it shines a light on the constant theme of wholly unwarranted guilt.

And across the rest of the episodes, barring episode 2 for a reason I can't yet figure out, it deals with Charlie thinking she either led them to their death's, having something to do with the deaths even for the smallest moments, or helping someone that thinks they're guilty such as the stage manager in Episode 6, Exit Stage Death.

But unwarranted guilt alone provides for a pretty flimsy theme if left alone. So how's it expanded upon? The last episode makes it clear through dialogue, revelations into Charlie's past and actions themselves that this unwarranted guilt breaks you down in such a specific way. In the last episode we get what seems to be a pointless return to Charlie's past. But learning about how she moves through life, another unwarranted piece of guilt and this metaphor of swimming, brought up again at the boat, we see how the guilt puts you in a situation where either you drown from it or you swim. And the direction you swim in, the way you move through life, is inherently affected by the guilt that's drowning you, and ultimately can lead you to make bad decisions, as the first thing that comes along that can stop you from drowning, be it a boat, a life preserver, or as Cliff mentions multiple times throughout the show, The Hook. The Hook is a distraction, something deadlier than the sea that you're drowning in, and fortunately for a detective show, and unfortunately for her, Charlie's hook is trouble.

[the-real-xmonster]

it's been a while since i checked your blog (life got really busy for me) but i'm glad to see your responses! the weather has somehow gotten worse this year... long pants are no longer wearable in singapore. why is it so hot!!! my back gets drenched with sweat within 10min of walking around. also i have a bad habit of not putting sunscreen and that is becoming increasingly unsustainable...

anyway i'm not sure if you're still playing star rail but i enjoyed belobog even though some of the story beats were kinda cliche. xianzhou was nice but i think a lot of it was hidden in the collectible items (which is a shame because i like dan heng a lot). i've been loving the penacony plot though! i thought aventurine's story was very moving and i liked him a lot more after the quest hehe

anyway, i hope you're doing well :D please take care in the overwhelming heat and 9% gst <33

Hi there! I totally agree with you about the Singapore weather. It's truly getting to the point of insufferable, which has left me no choice other than leaving the country altogether. So yeah I'm moving to Japan next week haha.

I still play HSR. Contrary to popular opinion I don't think the Belobog story was as great as the fandom likes to make it out to be. Like you said it's a bit cliched in some places and I still couldn't get over the whiplash of how fast the Seele-Bronya connection developed (and I did play HI3 so I get why that fan service plot element was there, but still). The Xianzhou storyline was ok IMO. Not perfect by any means but not as bad as the fandom likes to make it out to be either (istg this fandom seems to have extreme opinions about everything). As for Penacony, I only truly got on board with it in this current patch (maybe I'm emotionally defective or something but I really did not care about Firefly last patch) and yea it's because of how well written Aventurine's character was. Gotta give the writing team at Hoyo a huge kudo for this one. Can't wait for the Aventurine banner to start. I'll get him even if I've got almost every other sustain in this game 🤡

Btw I assume you're on the Asia server for HSR? If you want to be friends on there my UID is 800740717. I have pretty decently built characters (if I do say so myself) as support if you ever need 'em 😛

Anyway please put on sunscreen when you go out!!! Stay safe!

[drippingviolets3]

Sooooo, a lot has been happening with me recently and since I might be sick (and desperately need my medication adjusted-) I’m going to do a part two to that one thing where I rated danganronpa characters based on how they would comfort me after that one instance where I got bullied for being 💅

Hajime: 6/10: His free time events low key make me want to strangle him sometimes for his attitude, and I’m STILL traumatized by that one nut scene, but he’d still do more then the bare minimum despite being awkward about it.

Chiaki: 6/10: I know she would never say this, but for some reason she’s giving me Zuko’s “Thats rough buddy” response from ATLA 😭. I don’t think I would be able to tell if she’s actually listening or caring, so I’d be discouraged, but Chiaki would definitely try to find some way to distract me.

Nagito: -10/10: Mf would deadass look me in the eye and tell me it was a necessary stepping stone to achieve the brightest hope or some shit he can gtfo.

Twogami: 8/10: For the sake of staying in character he would pat me on the back with a broom, but would definitely have some words of wisdom to share with me, maybe share his food, idk.

Teruteru: 7/10: Here me out, since Teru is canonically bisexual, coming from one queer to another, he’d know when to drop the pervert shit and actually help. His advice would be shit but hey at least he’d make me something to eat.

Mahiru: 3/10: I can’t stand this bitch I gotta be real with y’all 💀. While she would agree that it was bad and such, she’d still get onto me for how I reacted and tell me to stop crying. We know she doesn’t really do anything to stop bullying so she’ll just do slightly below the bare minimum and dip.

Peko: 12/10: MY. WIFE. Okay I might be biased but I do think she’d just slowly draw her sword out to kill the mfs but would retract it the moment someone said “Peko, no.” Would she know how to comfort me? Probably not. But will she make sure that karma is delivered and that it hurts like a bitch? 100% yes.

Ibuki: 5/10: I think she’d also canonically queer, but she’s obnoxious and is weird in a way that kinda feels forced to me tbh? Idk how else to describe it, but I do know that while she would do her best to help, she’s not the person I want to be around in that kind of mess.

Hiyoko: 4/10: It depends on if we’re friends or not. If we were she’d probably tear the bullies a new one before promptly getting curb stomped, or she’d just make fun of me and tell me to get over it 💀.

Mikan: 2/10: She’ll want to help but would probably make it worse by tripping, crying, and apologizing.

Nekomaru: 9/10: He’d be such a dad about it, give the bullies a firm talking to and maybe yell at them if they catch an attitude. Overall he’d be bodyguarding me around that bitch 24/7

Gundham: 7/10: He’d give me a hamster to hold and would go off on one of his tangents about being a demon lord and how he’s make them burn in hellfire and shower the underworld in brimstone, but I won’t be paying attention because I’m holding a hamster and that makes life better 💞

Akane: 5/10: Similar to “Peko, no” but instead it’s like swiper the fox where you gotta scream “AKANE NO!” Three times in a row to prevent her from going on a rampage.

Sonia: 6/10: The sweetest and gentlest thing omllll 💞💞💞. She’d make sure I’m in a safe mental space so I won’t hurt myself and brings me pillows and blankets and such. But if she gets really pissed, home girl will deadass threaten the group to leave me alone. If they catch an attitude they’re gonna have to throw hands with her whole fucking country (and it is mentioned that everyone in her country learn how to work army machinery in elementary school so 💀)

Kazuichi: 5/10: I don’t know if he knows what a bisexual is 😭. He’d try to support me but his confusion would be so evident that it somehow makes me laugh enough to where I’m less sad.

Fuyuhiko: 20/10: This man has access to an entire fucking yakuza and you think that bitch will get out unscathed? He isn’t good with words, but actions speak louder than words so he gets straight to work. By the next day that bitch would be in the hospital and get PTSD by looking at babies, knowing it was a baby gangster who knocked her teeth out