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marley-manson · 9 months ago

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Hawkeye and Frank are the two most diametrically opposed characters on Mash. They clash politically, ideologically, emotionally, intellectually, and even physically on more than one occasion. There is virtually nothing they agree on. But they do have one significant similarity: both Hawkeye and Frank are notably, pointedly effeminate.

Hawkeye is the central protagonist, so he's written to be likeable, even admirable, especially in the first five seasons of the show when satire dominated rather than character drama. He's the character who makes the correct political points and voices the show's ideology, and male audience members are encouraged to identify with him and aspire to be like him. He's witty, he's smart, he's charismatic, he dodges consequences a lot, he's highly skilled in his work, and he has a strong personality and natural leadership qualities.

Frank is the main antagonist up until the end of season five. He's written for audiences to hate him, mock him, and occasionally be horrified by him. He's dull-witted, incompetent, awkward, easily led and manipulated, and always gets his comeuppance. Few audience members are likely to aspire to be more like Frank Burns.

And yet, while most likeable protagonist/detestable antagonist duos in American popular media would also be differentiated in terms of gender performance as a matter of course - the effeminate villain being a standard stock character, always set against a ruggedly masculine hero - Mash takes a different approach.

From his core personality as a sniveling, weak-willed follower, to the way other characters, including Hawkeye, routinely make fun of him by comparing him to a woman or insinuating that he's gay, Frank Burns certainly fits the part of weak, emasculated villain. What's more interesting, and much less commonly seen in Hollywood media, is that Hawkeye is portrayed as just as unmanly, and just as, if not more prone to having it pointed out in the show.

Often Hawkeye's jokes at Frank's expense include the implication that Hawkeye is attracted to him himself, and not necessarily as "the man." He jokes, "Guess it's a marriage, Frank. I know I can do better, but at my age, can I wait?" in Hawkeye, Get Your Gun; he switches from calling Frank one of his vampire brides to taking the feminine part in post-coital pillow talk after siphoning his blood in Germ Warfare; he kisses or tells Frank to kiss him in Major Fred C. Dobbs, For the Good of the Outfit, and Bulletin Board, etc.

Other times, the jokes Hawkeye makes about himself are virtually identical to the jokes made at Frank's expense - their respective attractions to Margaret as a potentially dominant sexual partner, eg, with both Frank and Hawkeye portrayed as eagerly submissive. For instance, in 5 O'Clock Charlie Hawkeye jokes about tying Frank to Margaret's tent, then dismisses the thought with, "He'd probably love it. I know I would." And Hawkeye/Trapper and Frank/Margaret are sometimes paralleled as dual couples, Hawkeye and Frank usually being framed as the more feminine partner in each.

And of course, unconnected to Frank, there are many, many more examples of Hawkeye's effeminacy, both in jokes and in personality traits.

Hawkeye is a self-professed coward who is loud and proud about how terrified he is to be stuck in a war zone. He's emotionally open and highly empathetic, always willing to listen to others' problems and discuss (or scream about) his own. He abhors institutional violence and faces every enemy combatant with his hands firmly in the air. When authority is thrust upon him he strives to relinquish it, and uses it as little as possible.

More shallowly, he has little interest in sports and exercise, derides masculine hobby magazines like Field and Stream and Popular Mechanics, is incapable of performing mechanical tasks to the exasperation of others at least four times (Comrades in Arms which explicitly frames this emasculating, In Love and War, Patent 4077, and Hey, Look Me Over), mocks traditional masculinity in many ways, and enjoys musical theatre and Hollywood gossip. And he makes and takes literally hundreds of jokes about being unmanly and having sex with men himself, many more than he makes at Frank's expense.

But while the jokes are at Frank's expense and meant to belittle him, they're rarely made at Hawkeye's expense, especially in the first five seasons. Hawkeye doesn't make the jokes out of self-deprecation, he makes them out of pride and a desire to differentiate himself from the army men he's surrounded by. He's almost always in on the jokes others make about him, rather than offended - Potter telling him to file a paternity suit against his rival in Hepatitis makes him laugh delightedly, and Trapper's remarks on his effeminacy, such as Miz Hawkeye in Hot Lips and Empty Arms, are sometimes lightly teasing but always a regular aspect of their dynamic that Hawkeye enjoys playing up. Frank doesn't make any jokes directly mocking Hawkeye's masculinity that I can recall, beyond vague "pervert" and "degenerate" remarks, which, while often historically homophobic, in the show's context tend to be treated as a reference to his heterosexual endeavours.

Frank's effeminacy is a point of mockery and derision, but Hawkeye's is a point of pride, and not intended to make him any less likeable to an audience. Antagonists don't get to score points off of Hawkeye by mocking his feminine traits, but Hawkeye makes fun of Frank regularly by mocking his feminine traits.

This difference in framing can partially be explained by the nature of their respective gender performances.

While Hawkeye and Frank are both effeminate, they're effeminate in many opposite ways. Frank is weak-willed while Hawkeye is strong-willed. Frank is unappealing to most women, while Hawkeye is something of a lady's man. Frank cannot face his fears to rise to a challenge, but Hawkeye can. But on the flipside, Frank refuses to admit to fear while Hawkeye openly proclaims it. Frank strives to attain authority while Hawkeye refuses it or takes it on only begrudgingly. Frank is obsessed with guns to a freudian extent while one of Hawkeye's most famous monologues of the show is a speech about refusing to carry one. Frank worships the concept of traditional masculinity even while he can't perform it himself, while Hawkeye mocks the concept and would refuse to perform it even if he could.

The Sniper is an excellent case study of these contrasts. In this episode, Hawkeye is effeminate and at ease with it, while Frank is desperate to prove himself masculine. Frank and Margaret flirt with strong Freudian overtones while Frank shoots a gun while nearby Hawkeye flirts with with a nurse with a line about "tasting" her. Hawkeye connects with the nurse he's wooing by relating to how scared she is and huddling in fear with her, while Margaret demands that Frank prove his masculinity by going out and taking down the sniper himself. Frank carries a gun while trying to approach the sniper, while Hawkeye carries a white flag. Frank tries to make fun of Hawkeye for wanting to surrender, but he can't bring himself to approach the sniper while Hawkeye does.

This contrast of gender performance is a consistent aspect of Hawkeye and Frank's dynamic throughout the show, but The Sniper makes it a central theme so it's a useful example to show how their relationships to masculinity are a deliberate aspect of their dynamic.

And while Hawkeye makes fun of Frank's femininity, it's significant that he also regularly makes fun of Frank's masculinity - his love of guns (eg The Sniper), his sexual affairs (eg the exchange about Frank as a "fantastic performer" in Yankee Doodle Doctor), his numerous attempts to exert authority (eg Welcome to Korea), his desire for socially approved success (eg Hot Lips and Empty Arms), etc.

Both masculine and feminine sides of Frank are comprised of negative character traits, while Hawkeye embodies the best of both - emotional expression and healthy ways of coping by talking about his feelings; bravery but not machismo; intelligence and skill as a doctor rather than an officer; empathy and a willingness to listen; sexual prowess but largely through his love of foreplay rather than his dick game (which, in the context of the early 70s, is a somewhat feminine attribute that distinguishes him from a typical traditionally masculine man); etc.

Hawkeye demonstrates some of the most appealing and healthy qualities of both masculinity and femininity while Frank demonstrates, or strives to demonstrate, the more toxic qualities of both. Through including a few positive masculine traits in the mix, the narrative is able to depict Hawkeye as likeable, admirable, and desirable in his effeminacy while Frank is depicted as loathesome in his. Hawkeye gets one of many, many women in The Sniper by showing vulnerability, while Frank only appeals to Margaret, and Margaret is portrayed as borderline pathological in her sexual attraction to violent masculinity (the scene where Frank excites her with his gun, for example, also includes an electra complex joke, and there's a running rape kink gag in this episode as well).

Another aspect to consider when it comes to differentiating Hawkeye and Frank's respective femininities is hypocrisy. Similar to how Frank and Margaret's affair is mocked because they can't admit to it while Hawkeye and Trapper's affairs are glorified, part of what makes Frank's effeminacy so mock-worthy, while Hawkeye's feminine qualities are a source of pride and rebellion, is that Frank refuses to admit to them.

Frank desperately wants to be the ideal heroic army man and often play-acts the part, poorly. When Hawkeye mocks him by calling him a woman, for example, he's drawing attention to Frank's failure to live up to his own ideals. And when Hawkeye calls himself a woman, he's mocking those same ideals. The message is that Frank is pathetic not so much for failing to be traditionally masculine, but for wanting to be traditionally masculine at all.

Ultimately the ways Hawkeye and Frank perform masculinity and femininity are pointedly in opposition, from which masc and fem traits they embody, to how proudly they embody them. The show itself draws attention to these gendered similarities and differences between Frank and Hawkeye through a constant barrage of jokes, and even whole scenes and episodes. In this way the show portrays Frank as a hypocritical loser who wants to be masculine but fails to embody all but the worst traits, and Hawkeye as a cool, admirable guy who disdains the traditional pillars of masculinity and embraces his own effeminacy.

#mash #marley on mash #mash gen #mash gs #frank mash #hawkeye mash #since you guys liked that trapper gender meta a lot more than i thought you would here have another one #though this is written a little less formally lol #i have more examples of whole scenes that make these comparisons than just the sniper but i'm trying to keep this from being #even longer than it already is #but eg white gold is another good example wrt how they relate to flagg; yankee doodle doctor; army navy game; george; the gun; etc etc #(also it's interesting that when frank leaves hawkeye gets the pathetic loser portrayal more often... though i think that's a coincidence #the shift from early to late mash could be yet another essay on mash and gender lol)#long post

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paddymoonstruck · 10 months ago

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DEAR READER | C.L 16 (ONE)

Notes: (This involves an Original Character btw)

* English isn’t my first language and I’m still trying to get back my writing mojo ehehe

* No trigger warnings besides mentions of catcalling ??

*This was written to be intentionally a bit vague since it’s just the first chapter

next parts: TWO | THREE

THE AROMA OF FRESHLY watered plants hit her senses. She exhaled the nature-given scent, producing a wave of serotonin in her body. A hand came up to brush away the brunette locks flying across her face from the strength of the wind. Her eyes gazed upon the calm rhythmic waves of the sea, smiling as the floral fragrance mingled with the salty taste of the air.

She was aware of the consequences. The blissful silence she was feeling had a price and the piper would eventually come for the gold. Nonetheless, she chose to bask at the few moments that she had left. Later, she’d be back to scrubbing at a her boss’ expensive yacht. Getting a nice manicure had been long rendered useless at how easily they’d get chipped.

Glancing down at her hands, a grimaced presented itself on her mouth as she spotted the dirt clinging on the inside of her nails.

As she got lost in her thoughts, she raked at her fingernails to clean through the icky substances. She truly had no qualms working for the rich. Not only do they pay handsomely, they also handed her occasional gift apart from her daily salary.

The amount of times she’d been mistaken for a hooker were extremely unhealthy. She often recalls the eye rolls she’d give the old men who’d whistle at her across the port as if she’s some sort of animal.

Lucky for her, her present employer was far from the elderly rich men, sporting beer belly that prey on girls younger than their own daughters.

Her boss was not passed sixty years of age. Instead of bothering young girls, he has this lovely wife and son whom he never fails to show his unwavering devotion to.

One could only dream of a life like his.

“Natalia!”

And here we go.

“Yes?” She yelled back, turning her body to look at the direction of her boss. She watched his towering stature make its way to the harbor, steps creaking beneath the wooden surface.

He squinted at the glare of the sun behind her head. “Would you like to join us for dinner?”

Her eyes widened at the invitation, hands waving from left to right. “Oh! I couldn’t possibly intrude—”

“Nonsense. You’re not.” He silenced her worries. “Come on.” Lending an arm to assist her down the step she was standing on.

Natalia stared at him, her features conveying incredulity. “Right now?”

He peaked at her curiously, slowly tugging her away from the port, taking care not to step on her dress. “It’s passed 6 PM . . .” At his remark, she raised her arm to take a look at her watch.

The hands did indicate a 18:37. Her mouth formed into an “o” at the confirmation. She hadn’t realize she had been dilly-dallying for that long. Her break started nearly two hours prior. The thought to recharge her energy were originally to last only an hour at best.

“I’m sorry— I completely lost track of time,” She apologized, tilting her head up to her boss who simply chuckled at her hushed tone.

“It’s quite alright.” He hummed, returning her gaze. “You’ve finished everything, haven’t you?”

She nodded her head, eyes glistening with pride. “I did! The magazines are back inside the father right cabinet, scrubbed the deck and the body. And I swear— It’s so clean, I could see my reflection ever surface,”

Her enthusiasm brought joy to him, optimg to approve her hard work. “Very good, then.” Natalia spotted his wife by one of the many luxurious cars they own.

A kind smile graced her lips as the pair approached her. “Oh, look at you! What have you been doing?” The motherly scolding tone was anything but scary to Natalia as the blonde woman began to fuss over the her.

“You should really tell her to come inside when she’s done, Toto . . .” Your boss winced at his wife’s glare.

Her graceful hands worked through Natalia damp locks, untangling the knots the had formed on her head. “I must’ve gone for a short swim. . .” She released a laugh to cover up her growing anxiety at the glare she threw her way. “I’m fine, Susie! Just need a shower— if we still have time?”

She glanced up at Toto, who suppressed a playful eye roll, nodding at the smiley girl nonetheless.

“Great! I’ll be back as soon as a can!” Natalia landed a peck on Susie’s cheeks before waving a hand to Toto, running back to their estate.

“That girl. . .” Toto clicked his tongue, but the grin on his face betrayed his true feelings.

“Absolutely adorable,” Susie chipped in, eyes crinkling at her husband’s own glee. But as she stared at Natalia’s retreating form, her expression fell serious. “I thought I told you to tell her that she doesn’t have to work for us anymore,”

Toto strides along with Susie as he answered the question. “I will, later over dinner.”

Susie raised an eyebrow at her husband, arms crossing to her chest. “Dinner? The one you’re having with Fred?”

“Yes— but,” He got ahead of her disapproving look, lifting a finger up to soothe away her frustration. “I’m taking her with me to broaden her connections.”

The enlightenment brought recollection to Susie’s features, heart warming the generous gesture Toto was giving to Natalia. “It’s nice that she knows what she wants, no?”

The tall man agreed, tucking his hands inside his pockets. It had been a nearly a year since Natalia started doing minor tasks for them. In her own faith, when she arrived at their residence, a natural rhythm fell place in her actions. The chores that were usually done by the usual cleaning lady was finished by her.

In her persuading self, she tried to Toto that she could do some of the boat cleaning as well. Of course, he was quick to deny her insistence, stating that her studies are the only thing she needs to focus on.

Natalia Valle was an exchange student from the Philippines. She had passed the examination for the University of Monaco and had been staying in the dorms for the last 3 years. That was until a financial crisis arose between her parents and before she knew it, a wet sponge and a bucket of water was her saving grace to get by everyday.

Thankfully, Susie had found her by the harbor. She sat there, eyes falling close a few times. The bags under her eyes were impossible to miss, conveying her lack of rest. Her hands gripped lightly at a fishing rod. The wooden handle constricted at her hand instinctively as the pull of an object from under the water awakened her spirit.

She flinched, eyes flying open at the force. Susie remembers hearing her devastated groans as the string snapped from its hook, light splashes appeared at the large body of water, indicating the fish’s escape.

One would turn away and go on with their life, Susie would have if she hadn’t seen the distinguish cut on her palm. The one she later turned over to use her fingers as a grapple to dig for another hook and string in her bag.

Getting Natalia’s wounds treated by Susie Wolff was definitely not in her bucket list. But she sat there, trying her best not to look too nervous as Susie herself dressed the long cut on her hand.

Susie didn’t need to make small talk, Natalia thought. Unknown to her, the genuine intentions that harbored Susie’s questions.

From there, Susie struck a deal with her after hearing how she ended up on that port. Susie offered to pay off her last year as a journalism student and her dorm rent. All she wanted in return was for her to graduate.

Of course, disbelief was a natural reaction. To Natalia, she hasn’t done anything special to earn a free pass for her burdens to be lifted off her shoulders.

As she expressed her hesitance, stating that she should not leech off someone else so easily with anything in exchange. Irises expanded at her sheer assertions to at least do something for them in return. To wrap her in solace, Susie agreed to the simple tasks.

Here they were, in the present. Natalia continued to work for her allowance despite Toto’s futile attempts to take the chores off the girl’s hands.

But tonight, he’ll finally be telling him a news that would make her, hopefully, drop all those cleaning supplies.

————————————————————————

Natalia clenched her hands in her lap, settling on admiring the silver bracelet adorned with the crystalline diamonds given to her by Susie last Christmas. Her fingernails chipped at her cuticles, watching the car pass through a series of establishments, deliberately crating a closer approximate to their destination.

The silk of her dress wrinkled at the spot which had had enclosed on her hand, leaving the mark of her worries.

“What’s the matter?”

Toto’s voice made spring her though back, choosing to return Toto’s waiting gaze.

“You didn’t tell me Charles was coming,” She sulked, her whiny tone caught a tug at the corners of Toto’s mouth.

“I knew you wouldn’t go if I told you,” The nonchalance of his shrug expelled a sigh from Natalia.

She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, twiddling with her phone. At the silence, her thoughts scrambled into one idea. One she couldn’t let go, electing to ask it.

“Are you switching teams?”

Toto didn’t seem astonished at her rash query, solely negating her with a soft “No, I’m not.”

The furrow of Natalia’s brows relaxed at his answer, shoulders sagging in defeat. She swore she had it.

The car came to a holt in front of a popular restaurant she was all familiar with. The bright lights twinkled in her vision as the valet opened her door. She tipped her head as a polite greeting, plucking herself from the seat. Her hand drew the rest of her dress out of the vehicle, proceeding to stand her full height.

Toto came to her side, patiently waiting to get herself ready. When she did, she strode with him to the cemented steps where he lent his hand as assistance.

Just one last step to spare before they’re at the door, but heavens had other plans.

“Toto!” An accented voice came calling from below. His joyful exclamation was accompanied by a chuckle similar to his expression.

Natalia found herself turning back as well. True enough, At the bottom of the stairs stood two figures. The jolly French team principal of Scuderia Ferrari, Frederic Vasseur and the team’s golden boy, Charles Leclerc were both wearing matching smiles.

Toto mirrored their smiles, extending a hand to Fred when the pair reached them. Natalia greeted the team principal as well, shaking his hand lightly. When she let go, her eyes wondered to the green eyed individual in front of her.

“Hi,” She chipped, giving him a soft grin to which he responded with a chuckle.

“Good evening, Natalia.” He roamed his eyes through her well-dressed figure. The silk on her body hugged her curves in all the right places. Charles realized he had been staring for quite some time. Fortunately, Toto invited everyone to come inside and start dinner.

————————————————————————

Dinner was going fairly well. The dimly lit hall invoked an air of ease, along with the delectable dishes that have been served. The candles illuminated her face, giving off a warmth through her skin.

She would go as far as to say it was perfect if it wasn’t Charles’ eyes burning into her face. Granted, when she would attempt to reciprocate his stare, he’d look away. Her consciousness made her click unto her phone’s camera, thinking there might be a peculiar substance on her appearance. However, after a few checks every little while, she found no disarray to her make up.

Why was he looking at her like that?

“Natalia,” At the sound of her name, she snapped her head towards Fred, who sat across Toto. “Toto tells me that you need an internship . . .”

The tone of his voice dripped of knowing. Natalia blinked back at him. “Yes, I am.” Was the only thing she could manage as she studied the expression on his face.

Is he? No, surely not.

Fred inclined his body, hands clasped together on the table as a smirk ghosted on his lips. “Well you’re in luck,” No way. “Ferrari’s currently accepting interns. Would you be—”

“Yes!” A hand slapped on her mouth as her voice resounded through the space.

Charles halted the chortle that crawled up his throat, concealing it with a bow of his head.

“Then it’s settled,” Toto clapped Natalia shoulder in a congratulatory amenity, a sense of pride flourishing in his chest. “Whenever you’re ready. I’ll drive you to the Ferrari headquarters.”

Natalia could barely contain her excitement at Toto’s claim. She stood up, reaching her hand toward Fred who gladly received it with the same enthusiasm.

“Thank you so much,” The heat of her eyes were beginning to burn, signaling her near waterworks. “This is such an honor, honestly. . .”

“Actually, we’re heading back to Maranello tomorrow.” Charles joined the conversation, peering up at her standing stature. “You can go with me, if you want,”

Natalia didn’t miss the emphasis on the last words, lips curling behind her teeth at the suggestion.

“That would be great,” She nodded, shooting him a grateful look. “Is 9 AM fine?”

Trying to catch Natalia’s gaze, he kept his on her. “Perfect.”

An indecipherable expression crossed Charles’ features, leaving as quickly as it came when Natalia blinked.

This is wasn’t a well thought idea. Natalia was aware of this fact. The thought of spending four hours in a car with Charles sent rippling shudders down her back. Perhaps the yearning to commit to her life long dreams were stronger than the impending discomfort she had to endure for a few moments.

After all, they both agreed never to speak about it ever again. A long car ride shouldn’t be so hard.

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NEXT PART: H E R E

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undeadcannibal · 1 year ago

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Your honor I'd like to propose an amendment to the 🍆 head cannon post:

Curvature and distinguishing colors, features? Are they darker or the same shade? Lighter? Hair color? Texture? Who's got a lean? 🥎⚾s?

Summary: More requested ‘N.SF.T’ headcanons for Task Force 141, Los Vaqueros, and König~ Part 2 of this post here!

Genre: Headcanons, request(s) Characters featured: Price, Gaz, Ghost, Soap, Alejandro, Rodolfo, and König.

Warnings: explicit content!

A/N: Never did I expect for that other post to become as popular as it did. I’m happy y’all enjoy my gross and overly-detailed headcanons. Also, please note, if any of you happen to not like or find any of my hcs to be gross or not what you expected, keep in mind they’re just my headcanons. Don’t take ‘em seriously, dudes. Weird and rude replies will be deleted. ( Gif credit: xxx )

Gaz―

Not much of a curve to it, honestly, he’s pretty straight curvature wise. Distinguishing colors? I’d say his foreskin is the same as his skin tone overall, tip-wise? I’m thinking it’s a bit darker than the color of his lips and flushes an even deeper color when he’s fully aroused, mhm. Hair color of his pubes is dark and also has a some curl and texture to it when he does let it grow out for some time. Balls, too? Hm... I’d say Kyle’s sporting a nice, snug set he prefers to keep smooth and clean more often than not.

Bonus! Kink headcanon is that he adores you paying extra special attention to his balls. Worship them and he’ll be cumming all over your face in no time~

Ghost―

Slight upward curve that stimulates you in the best of ways. IDC what anyone says, man has a mouthwatering cock with a nice flesh-pink tip and anyone can fight me on it. Probably slightly darker than his overall skin tone but not by much. Pubic hair stuff... I’m torn between him being a natural dirty blond or brunet. (I can’t remember where I saw the fanart from, but someone has a headcanon that he bleaches his brunet hair blond and oof, I’m in love, also give him long ass roots since he can’t keep up with his root touch-ups while out on missions) Straight-ish texture to his hair as well, grows pretty smoothly altogether. THIS MAN has a thick vein running down the middle of his shaft, my lord. And finally, for his balls, I’m thinking he’s got a hefty set that he’s quick to push you down to so you can pay them some attention, expect some light tickling from the hair there, too. uwu

Bonus! Kink headcanon is he struggles with being submissive and prefers being dominant the majority of the time due to his trauma. He doesn’t like the idea of submitting to someone -- he’s far too afraid of what kind of consequences it could possibly have for him. This doesn’t mean he’s a sadistic or strict Dom. If anything, he’s hyper aware of your reactions to every little thing he does, also refuses anything hard or physical against you, he detests the thought of causing his partner pain.

Price―

Leans ever so slightly to the right, isn’t too noticeable though. Since he’s circumcised in my previous post, could probably notice a scar that separates light flesh-tone color of his shaft from the faint pink of his tip. Also, despite him preferring to trim his facial hair specifically, I’d see him as going fully natural bush-wise. Man’s got a lovely cushion of brown hair that’s got just the faintest amount of gray speckled throughout. While he looks very textured, I personally think his hair would be soft af. Large set of balls that droops a bit lower now than when he was younger~

Bonus! Kink headcanon for John is - if you’re willing - he’d love to use you as an ashtray when he’s smoking. He’d light up, take a few puffs, than order you to open your mouth so he could tap the ashes off onto your tongue. Ordering you to keep your mouth open so he can see the black and grey specks of ash decorating your tongue before having you swallow.

Soap―

Has just the slightest upward curve to him, definitely jokes it’s great for helping stimulate his partner’s g-spot. Also knows all the best camera angles for top-tier dick pics. Shade darker than his natural skin tone and also has a smidge of hair going up the bottom of his shaft. Doesn’t mind in the slightest though. As mentioned before, he prefers going all natural and doesn’t shave or trim much. Lord, the amount of hair this man has. Has treasure trail, hair thighs, ass, groin, everything. Sorry, I love hairy men, what can I say? Also, when he’s super pent up, his tips turns a deep ruddy shade you love to see every time. Balls are on the larger side with one being slightly smaller than the other, also very sensitive and will have him turning into a whimpering mess if you pay special attention to them.

Bonus! Kink headcanon is he takes every spare chance he can get to take and send nudes and videos of him jacking off. Doing his best to make those sounds you love whilst trying not to get caught by anyone. Those moments are for your eyes and your eyes only~

Rodolfo―

Sobbing because his cock is the same gorgeous shade as the rest of his skin, although can see the head of his cock and his balls being a tad darker. Maybe has a tad lean towards the left. Has trimmed dark hair that feels amazing beneath your fingertips. Balls are a bit on the larger side. Run your tongue over them and his dick will be twitching above your face in no time, also will draw up tight to him when he’s cumming~ Please spread this man’s thighs apart, he’s got beauty marks for days and will fucking tremble if you kiss and run your tongue over them!

Bonus! Kink headcanon is he’s got such a praise kink when it comes to his partners. The hottest thing in the world for him is for him to be showering his partner with compliments, feeling them clench tightly around him as his words register in their pleasured-addled minds.

Alejandro―

Much like Rudy, he’s a beautiful shade of tan all throughout, and his cock head is just as flushed and ruddy when he’s aroused. Much like Rudy, has a lean but his is the exact opposite, veering to Also is hairy just like Soap, but nowhere near to the same degree. If anything, man’s sporting a thick bush, hairy thighs, and legs. Also another man sporting thick veins throughout the length of him that he’s more sensitive about being touched than he’d like to admit. Large set of balls that do sag a bit but doesn’t mind in the slightest definitely likes to teabag his partner as a result if they allow him to

Bonus! Kink headcanon for our man is that he’s a sucker for sloppy oral, giving or receiving, but especially receiving. Nothing excites him more than seeing how ruined and messy he can make your face as he fucks it.

König―

Doesn’t really have much of a curve or lean to him, but rest assured he’s got veins for days lining his shaft. And, if you run your tongue along them, he melts on the spot. Perfect male whimpering audio material <3 The color of him is noticeably darker than the rest of him. That, combined with his beautiful sandy colored curls make for a mouthwatering view. Also has large, yet tight balls that are far more sensitive than he’d like. Overstimulate the big guy right now!

Bonus! Kink headcanon is that due to his size all around, he’s grown to have a liking for size difference with his partner being smaller than his. It’s pretty easy given his height, but more so it drives him feral to see his cock bulging his partner’s belly out with every thrust he gives.

#john price x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #simon riley x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #könig x reader #call of duty x reader #task force 141 x reader #los vaqueros x reader #cod headcanons #headcanons #'nsft'#opened mail #requests #my writing #lordsexmachine

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max1461 · 3 months ago

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I've said all this before, but, like, for the most part the value I place on academic integrity isn't moral in nature. It is in some circumstances: if you're becoming a doctor or an engineer, it's important to know your stuff and know it well, or people could die. Thus, cheating and plagiarism potentially have grave consequences and I would argue both are in most cases morally wrong under these circumstances. But in a field like my own (linguistics), I don't really think there's much of a moral element to academic dishonesty. You can make some argument about, like, cheating on exams having the effect of taking positions away from the most qualified, but first of all I am not meritocratically inclined to begin with (so I don't think the most qualified deserve to succeed in any inherent sense) and second of all I tend not to buy moral arguments from diffuse harms like this, as is well known.

Rather than being moral, my opposition to academic dishonesty is of a somewhat different nature: I am invested in the project of knowing more about language, and so if you are out there being a bad linguist and publishing false or unilluminating papers about language, you are basically my opponent in this project. It's not that it's wrong, it's just that if you do it then we'll find ourselves working against each other in this particular domain. As summer transgenderer said in a post somewhere, "sometimes you just have a morally neutral adversarial relationship with someone". Uh. Opposing sports teams have a morally neutral adversarial relationship. Etc, etc. This is also why I don't care so much about academic integrity at the undergrad level: the vast majority of undergrads, especially those cheating on a linguistics exam, don't care about linguistics and won't go on to become linguists, and so they aren't my opponents here in any sense. And if they do go on to become linguists, well, as long as they stop acting like that in grad school, it's fine. And I do think people change in this regard, and also for a lot of people there is a big difference between "cheating on an exam" and "making up data for a research paper", although for some there certainly isn't. At the end of the day, I care that people who become linguists become good linguists in actuality, not that they satisfy various tests designed to assess if they will become good linguists, although naturally, knowing their performance on these tests will alter my priors about how likely the above desirable outcome is.

But I could still easily be friends or so on with someone who I think is a bad linguist, or an academically dishonest linguist, or whatever. Again, there's no moral element to this, they're just my opponent in this arena. You can be friends with a guy from another team, he's not necessarily a bad guy. I really dislike the vitriol that academics express towards people who have committed academic dishonesty, although naturally I see where it comes from.

#navel gazing

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give-to-oblivion · 2 months ago

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My Hero Academia Recs: Dadmight & Dadzawa Edition

I love all the adopted dads in this fandom, but I get sad when one of them gets bashed at the expense of the others. This recs list is for fics that have both All Might and Aizawa (and sometimes Present Mic) as good surrogate father figures. The focus isn't always split evenly between them, but I only included fics I thought had good representation of both. Most of these also have good mom Inko because that's important to me, and I've indicated where it's otherwise.

Some of these fics are pretty well known; this is less an "unearth new discoveries" list and more of a "filter for this specific trope variation" list.

Please feel free to reblog with your own additions! There's definitely some longfic I haven't had a chance to sit down with yet.

Announcer AU (Series) by RogueVector

Midoriya Izuku makes his debut on the national stage not as a competitor at the Sports Festival, but rather as a lost spectator turned announcer alongside his heroes Eraserhead and Present Mic.

This is more like EVERYBODY adopting Izuku, but it's still a lot fun. The first two main fics are completed; the third is still a WIP and hasn't been updated for some time.

Apex Predator (WIP, on hiatus) by silver jackdaw (cizzi)

Every single school had one: someone at the top of the food chain. An acme. Someone who could do things under a teacher's nose, escape consequences, and terrify other people. Someone who looked down on everyone else like they were prey. An apex predator. And Izuku couldn't count on teachers and adults to protect anyone. Even a hero school wasn't safe from the phenomena. When Izuku gets to Yuuei, he's determined to find out who it is and ensure they can't hurt him or his new friends.

...and accidentally, in the process, becomes the apex predator (though he is mostly unaware of this, and uses it for good. But still, people are terrified of him.)

Although this is on hiatus, it's over 170k and doesn't leave off on a cliffhanger. I've reread this at least 10 times.

Burn Your Wings by oWhiteKiwibird

Izuku inherited his parents’ quirks, but he swore he’d never use his fire.

He knows first hand how—bright, burning, scorching, painful, terrifying, destructive—it is, after all, and Izuku promised (promised his crying mother, promised his burning self, promised the laughing memory of his father) that he’d become a hero who stops that kind of despair.

Even if he has to burn his own wings to do so.

By Chance, By Choice by Marigold_Flowers

Aizawa Shouta, Yagi Toshinori, Midoriya Izuku and Shinsou Hitoshi wake up one morning with a Soul-mark, meaning that there's a chance they'll meet their Soulmate that day. Things don't go quite like they expect, but they go well all the same. They find new family, just perhaps not quite how they thought they would.

Parental soulmates, with a twist. I've never seen this take on this trope and had to include it.

A Guide to Death Worlders (Series) by katydid & Zyla_SweetBean

Humans are known across the galaxy for being terrifying, relentless, and savage monsters. Naturally the alien warlord All for One must have one as a pet. The unfortunate alien abduction victim Izuku Midoriya is determined to make his captor regret it.

Series based on the "humans are space orcs" premise. A little cracky, but very fun, and the series is complete at over 270k so it'll last you a while.

Hide and Seek (Series, complete) by battybatzgirl

Izuku Midoriya is good at hiding his secrets. Shouta Aizawa is better at uncovering them.

Left Over by Dinosawrhat

Aizawa Shouta’s instincts were nearly 100% accurate, as was his eye for small details. They were skills honed through years working the Underground, and only broadened when it came to dealing with 20 incredibly powerful teens year after year. So, when he noticed that Midoriya hadn’t brought a lunch for the fourth time this week, he knew something was off.

This does have neglectful Inko. And just. so much whump.

The New Normal by The Feels Whale (miscellea)

Midoriya Izuku comes from a long line of secret Force users. Reconciling that with living as a Quirkless person in and Quirked world is interesting at best --and that was before his Dad tried to make him commit a murder.

Present Mic and Eraserhead, meanwhile, have been trying to adopt for a while with no luck until Mic walks past the wrong (possibly the right) custody hearing and can't help but step in.

A Boku no Hero Academia and Star Wars Fusion.

Razzmatazz by xylophones

Izuku has plans for everything.

He plans out what to say to the cashier when ordering coffee, he plans out his homework before even opening his textbook. He has a whole ten-year plan for how he’s going to get into UA’s hero course and get his hero license fully quirkless. He plans for every wild, unlikely scenario he can think of because his anxiety gets so bad if he doesn’t go through every possible outcome, every way his life could landslide into disaster–– but Izuku never planned for this.

For once, he doesn’t have a plan and he doesn’t have time to think of one. All he can see is Yagi-san’s lined, kind face looking resigned as he stares down the villain in his shop. Yagi-san, who is the closest thing to a father figure Izuku has ever had.

Izuku doesn’t think. He just moves.

This is mostly Dadmight, but does have some good Dadzawa as well.

Send Endeavor to the Shadow Realm (Series) by PitViperOfDoom

Todoroki Enji is the worst and Midoriya finds ways to let people know it.

The last story in the series is the real meat of it (60k+) but you should read the rest for context. And because they're good.

Things That Haunt Our Hallways by ghostwriterofthemachine

“It was a kid,” Yagi gasped out. He had his hand balled up into a fist and the fist pressed to his lips, as if to remind himself that he could not start screaming. “Or. Young person, maybe 20. Homeless, I think. Activated their Quirk on reflex and then ran. The kids—” Here, he pressed his fist harder to his mouth, sucked in a wheezing breath, as if the air itself was pushing down something with physical weight. “The kids—”

“Scattered immediately,” Aizawa finished for him, and Yagi managed a nod.

Yagi’s eyes were so dilated that the blue was almost invisible. He shook violently. He looked like a scarecrow in a windstorm.

Someone activated a Fear-Inducer Quirk so powerful that it reduced All Might to this— of course Aizawa’s class had bolted.

when at first you don't succeed by LunaLucrea

Toshinori finds himself in a race against time to save his successor. Over and over and over again.

A World Anew (Series) by Krasimer

Time travel/AU fic where a hero traveling back to save Shimura Tenko starts a ripple effect that creates a better world. The first two fics are completed and the third is close to wrapping up.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bnha #aizawa shouta #yagi toshinori #dadmight #dadzawa #fic rec #fanfic recs

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chackyxyooj · 5 months ago

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The Beginning

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Description: Gene just wants to have a smoke on school grounds but you, a Student Council member, particularly take an issue with this. Pairing: PDH!Gene x Reader. WC: 2.4K Content Warning: Smoking; Swearing; Implicit SA framing. !!READER DISCRESION IS ADVISED!!

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Leaning back against the wall, Gene tucks his lighter into his pocket and takes a drag of his cigarette. With the fall playoff season just around the corner, the teachers and hall monitors of Phoenix Drop High have become lenient with students leaving class early. It makes it extremely easy for the boy to slip in and out of the school with no consequence - and with how slowly classes move through material, only Irene knows how bored Gene can get. He’s finally starting to remember why school is such a drag.

A bell rings from inside the school and Gene naturally checks the time on his phone. It’s the five minute warning bell; not that Gene intends to go to his next class. He’s perfectly content staying out of sight and out of mind.

As Gene takes another slow puff of his cigarette, his attention is drawn to the sound of footsteps. Shit. He didn’t think anyone would waste their time sweeping the perimeter of the school when they had their little sport teams to worry about. Not in the mood to receive a lecture, the boy prepares to put out his cigarette. That’s until he sees that it’s a student who has rounded the corner.

At first he doesn’t recognize the person who stands before him, but the look on their face as they approach sparks familiarity. It’s you.

Gene feels a frown begin to pull at his lips. His conversations with you have always been brief (and under dubious circumstances) but you’re not the kind of person he wants to deal with right now. Council members like you are always stuck up and self righteous; even more so than the teachers. Gene’s point is only proved right when you place yourself right in front of him, arms crossed and eyes narrowed.

“Smoking on school grounds is prohibited.” You state, your gaze briefly snapping down to the cigarette Gene has in his mouth.

“And?”

“And it causes significant damage to your health.”

“It does?” Gene scoffs and takes another huff of his cigarette, blowing the smoke at your face. “Well aren’t you just the sweetest little thing to tell me that.”

Gene attempts to blow another puff of smoke at you but you pluck the cigarette from his mouth and crush it with the heel of your shoe. It’s not unlike Council members to be so uptight about following school rules but Gene has never taken you for someone so confrontational. Something about that would be amusing if it wasn’t so damn annoying.

“The hell’d you do that for? That brand ain’t cheap, you know.” Gene scowls. When you don’t immediately reply the boy takes a step forward, grabbing your wrist and holding you in place. You instinctively twitch away but don’t really try to run. “Destroying someone else’s stuff is real mean. You ought to make it up to me somehow. Let’s say twenty bucks and we call it square.”

“Really? That much for a single cigarette?” Your voice comes out strained; as if you’re pushing out every single word you say. “Damn delinquent…”

“What was that?”

You frown and turn away. “Fine. I’ll pay you back at the end of the day, so meet me at the Student Council room when classes are over.”

“See? Was that so hard?” The boy grins down at you as you jerk your wrist away from his grip. You roll your eyes as you adjust your uniform, retreating from Gene almost immediately. The boy can’t help but let his eyes drag across your form as you begin walking away.

Gene doesn’t really like Student Council members, but he does seem to like you. It’s the only logical reason to explain why he’s so willing to go along with your terms. As soon as the school day is out and classes are dismissed, Gene meets you exactly where you told him to. It isn’t until he’s standing right outside of the Council’s door that he realises how troublesome you are.

Several voices talk over one another; about what Gene doesn’t care to find out, but the boy realises that he agreed to your terms a bit too easily. He won’t let that happen a second time.

Instead of knocking Gene opts to let himself inside. The weight of the entire student council staring at him doesn’t phase him. Rather, he finds it amusing how the entirety of the Council scowls at his sudden appearance. Questions like ‘what are you doing’ and ‘why are you here’ are like music to Gene’s ears. It’s an especially sweet sound when your voice lulls over the rest and you clear the confusion in the air.

“Apologies everyone, but it seems I’ll have to cut today’s meeting short. We’ll take care of everything in relation to the upcoming school sports event tomorrow.”

Quiet murmurs of confusion ripple through the room but they don’t last long. The room clears quickly, with the final exiting Council member closing the door as they leave. It all but leaves Gene feeling a bit impressed.

“All that for me? How sweet.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” You quip in reply. The boy watches with curious eyes as you begin rearranging the desks in the room. The group of desks that were previously arranged to face each other are moved into two rows of five. “Did you know that there are four separate teacher lounges across the school? This room was supposed to be another lounge but the school board deemed it unnecessary because of its proximity to the teacher lounge on the floor above. We’re right underneath it, actually.”

“And why do I care?”

“It’s called small talk. Ever heard of it?” You sweep the perimeter of the room before retrieving a clipboard that had been hanging on the door behind Gene. There’s a slight click as you pull it off the door and your brows furrow. “Seeing as you’ve become so adept at avoiding the teachers to sneak around, I thought a delinquent like you would find it interesting that the ‘esteemed Student Council room’ was once a teacher’s lounge.”

Gene rolls his eyes, his patience quickly wearing thin. “How about you stop stalling and give me my money already?”

You cross the room with a quiet sigh, placing yourself on top of one of the desks and twisting how you sit so that you face Gene. Only one desk sits between you and Gene and you’ve elected to rest your feet on its edge. “Money? When did we ever agree to that?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, sweetheart.” Gene’s voice comes out in a low, irritated grumble. You, on the other hand, smile a pleasant sort of smile - one that only serves to make Gene’s blood boil. “What are your fellow Council members gonna think when they find out you’re a stupid little coward who goes back on your word?”

“Are you trying to threaten me?”

“You? The Council President? Never.” Gene remarks sarcastically as he steps further into the room. He rounds the desk where your feet are rested and leans forward, reveling in the way your gaze narrows when he catches you off guard. “What? Didn’t think I’d notice the way your little council members followed your every whim? I wonder what they’d think of their president if they knew your true character.”

At first you frown, but then you smile. And finally you laugh.

“I’ll give you this, delinquent. You’re more intelligent than you let on. A near perfect grade point average is almost unheard of for someone who skips out on class so much. Who would’ve thought that a bad boy who loves smoking behind the school and who goes around calling himself a ‘Shadow Knight’ actually does all his homework? Students like you are a troublesome bunch, but you’re also… useful. So lend me a hand.”

“Lend you a hand?” At first Gene thinks you’re joking, but he quickly realises that he’s wrong. “Not a chance.”

“Oh, I wasn’t asking. I was simply displaying the extent of my generosity.” You use your hands to support your weight as you lean back against the desk. “Do you know what kind of trouble the school will get into if a scandal of some sort were to occur? What a silly question, of course you do. And as Council President, I can’t just sit by and let troublesome students do as they wish. I need to ensure that all of them are… compliant.”

“Compliant?” Gene scoffs, nearly amused. “You call that psycho sophomore girl compliant?”

“Her? She knows her place. I’ve made sure of it.” You muse, tilting your head ever so slightly. “And now it’s your turn, Delinquent. It’s about time you learn your place.”

Now it’s Gene’s turn to narrow his eyes. “Gonna write me up for smoking or some shit?”

“That? Oh, no. That would only get you a slap on the wrist.” You lean forward with a coy smile. “You’re going to agree to the terms of my generosity because it’s what’s best for you. Unless you want to find yourself expelled.”

Before Gene has a chance to question you, you reach up and roughly grasp his loose tie and jerk him off the desk. Once the boy is standing you kick over the desk in front of you to send it crashing against the floor, quickly followed by you calling out for a teacher to help. Almost as if on cue, there’s scraping and the sound of scrambling feet - as if someone from upstairs put an abrupt halt to whatever they were just doing.

Up until now Gene would’ve called your actions the result of a temper tantrum, but your intentions suddenly become obvious when your grip on Gene’s tie tightens.

Gene tries to pull away from your grasp but your grip is surprisingly strong. As the footsteps from upstairs approach the door, their hand fumbles against the doorknob. The door wasn’t locked when he barged in earlier but the sound of the approaching teacher’s keys makes it obvious that’s not the case anymore.

Just as Gene opens his mouth to speak you pull him down to your level. He has to put his hands on either side of you to prevent himself from falling into you completely.

“Imagine what a teacher will think if the commotion they heard is followed up by the sight of an intimidating delinquent like you towering over the Student Council President.” You speak ever so softly, your breath hot against Gene’s ear. “Not to mention that the door was locked when they arrived. How hard would it be to convince them you had less than savoury intentions?”

“You wouldn’t…”

“I would.” You laugh sweetly against Gene’s neck, your laugh soft and breathy. If not for the circumstances Gene might’ve called your laugh addicting, but right now that was anything but the truth. “Watch me.”

Gene can feel his blood boiling at the way you’re so smug. He racks his brain for some kind of solution to this mess but he knows you have him beat. Through gritted teeth and clenched fists, Gene submits to your will.

“Fine.”

“What was that?”

“I said fine!”

Not a moment sooner that the door to the Student Council room flies open, you release your grip on Gene’s tie. The boy immediately makes distance between himself and you but that didn’t stop the teacher from catching a glimpse of what happened. Or rather, what you let them think was happening.

The teacher quickly places themself between you and Gene, though their attention is very obviously focused on you as they ask what happened.

You, in all your Student Council ways, smile in apology. Off the top of your head you weave a lie that appears to alleviate the teacher’s suspicions. It’s almost disgusting how quickly you managed to turn the tides in your favour, though Gene would be remiss to think that he ever had a chance against you in here.

You get off the hook with barely a slap on the wrist, leaving Gene a frustrated mess. He can hardly wipe the scowl that has etched its way onto his face. On the other hand, you seem completely and utterly satisfied.

“Don’t look so upset with me. It’s not like you got in trouble.” You remind Gene in some cruel attempt to soothe him. You reach forward to straighten his tie but Gene swats your hand away.

“Fuck off.” Gene growls and you comply, but not without a smug laugh.

“Alright, you don’t have to be so hostile.” You back away from Gene and pick the desk up off the floor. “But as for your compliance, there’s only one thing I need from you for now.”

“For now?” Repeats Gene but you show no signs of hearing his question.

You tap around on your phone until you finally come across what you’ve been looking for. You turn your screen toward Gene and he’s irritatingly met with a map of the school, but several spots around the perimeter have been highlighted with different colours.

“You have to abide by this outline if you’re ever trying to sneak a cigarette break during school hours.” You explain.

Gene scoffs. “As if I’d listen to any rule you give me after the shit you just pulled.”

“I think you’ll find that the places I’ve highlighted are already many of the places you and your ‘Shadow Knights’ have scoped out for your shenanigans. I know the patterns of the teachers and hall monitors as well as you do, so I think you’ll find that this request is perfectly reasonable.”

“And if I refuse?”

“You can’t.” You feign a sweet smile as an airdrop notification appears on Gene’s phone.

Gene accepts the image but not without rolling his eyes first. “You’re a real sweetheart, aren’t you?”

You laugh, pulling your school bag onto your shoulders as you make your exit. Just before you leave you shoot Gene a quick glance. It’s surprisingly soft. Gentle, even. Gene isn’t quite sure what to make of it but it feels… different. He thinks it’s unsettling to be honest, but that word alone isn’t enough to describe the emotional highs and lows you just forced on him.

Never the matter. If there’s one thing Gene knows for sure, it’s that people reap what they sow; and you’ve just sown a particularly bittersweet seed.

#potentially triggering #reader discretion is advised #mystreet x reader #gene mystreet #gene #gene x reader #enemies #manipulation #why doesn't gene have a last name dammit #he's so hard to tag #so why do I insist on writing him?#technically a connected oneshot

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bibibbon · 2 months ago

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Did I ever saw the MHA movies? No. Never bc I know it would be a BK fest (as if canon isn't one too)

But talking about Nine...

It makes me wonder how Nine would approach Izu ?

Bc shig in canon is this and ....I hate it for the simple fact he decided to be amicable to BK.

Hi @mikeellee 👋

I know you haven't watched the movies but nine and izuku have interacted and fought each other during the movie, while nor deep or meaningful conversations took place the movie does establish them to be enemies as izuku is against nine stealing kasumo's quirk.

Nine is very hostile towards everyone who isn't his team so unlike shigaraki there is no bias where he is amicable to one character and hostile towards another.

Due to this iam going to assume your question is: what if nine was in shigaraki tomura's position?

Nine in this scenario starts out with his team that is founded after he helps them and he already has the ideology that the strongest in society should rule while the weak should stay in their place.

By having nine attack the usj with just his small highly skilled team trying to take down the symbol of peace it adds a lot more meaning and symbolism as

1) it makes sense for society to underestimate their attack

2) it would intoeduce us to the main villain group and their real capabilites early on

3) we would get more time to flesh out and develop the found family bond of nine's team

It's during the usj arc that we get both nine's ideology introduced and that we see that same ideology being indirectly challenged by

1) who nine is trying to take down (all might)

2) Izuku midoriya himself

This is because nine is trying to destroy the own natural order he pleads and praises by taking down the strongest person in society. Nine is trying to destroy the already establishes hierarchy where all might is clearly more powerful therefore, making him a hypocrite. However, he could plead his case and use the argument that all might and his reign of peace is inevitably coming to an end so nine will take this opportunity fight and prove himself to be the strongest and bring about change to the system.

Izuku midoriya as well as many other characters like eri or nejire are interesting characters that end up contradicting the system and ideology that nine has in place. I mention izuku midoriya specifically because he is the only charactwr our of the others that I listed that is involved in the usj arc.

In the usj arc nine will figure out that izuku holds a powerful quirk which would cause him to develop mixed emotions. On one hand nine would be intimidated by izuku as he has the ability to take over as the strongest and choose to uphold the status quo which nine wants to annihilate and change into what he label's the natural order of things. However, on the other hand nine would also relate to izuku as both of their quirks have horrible consequences in their body and would feel a sense of hatred as he sees another person discarded by society because his quirk is too strong.

Due to these feelings nine chooses to investigate the case of izuku midoriya further and choose to recruit him onto the team as a means of disabling the threat and also gaining a power tank on his side.

This feeling and motivation is reinforced by the sports festival arc where nine is introduced to both izuku and todoroki. However, another person also enters nine's field of vision: katsuki bakugo. Nine feels like he could manipulated bakugo to fit a narrative and mold that he wants him to fit and exploit him to show society that the strongest are being oppressed by the weak. This is a mistake that nine makes and he learns that this is a grave mistake through the consequences he receives (the kamino arc) and the new information he gathers during the kamino arc.

Through research and the kamino arc (where izuku and bakugo are kidnapped) nine finds out that izuku was quirkless. This would be an interesting development as izuku was and may still be someone who nine thinks should be at the bottom of the cycle but also izuku is too similar to nine. This discovery would send nine spiralling what does this mean for him? His ideals? His plan? People will suffer, people have suffered and people are suffering. Nine's plan wouldn't change a thing but would just make one group of people suffer less than another group of people.

Nine would have to go back to the drawing board and his interactions with izuku become more frequent trying to understand izuku and izuku trying to understand him. They fight, they argue, they talk and all of that to reach a middle point. What should be done with society? It's flawed, they have managed to acknowledge that but upholding the status quo would do no improvement and changing it to have it be a cruel cycle of the strong abusing their power would also be a horrible thing.

With all of this occurring one thing that brings nine and izuku closer to one another is the overhaul arc, specifically one character Eri.

Eri infulences them to meet a middle ground one where society isn't determined by power of quirks but a society where everyone has potential and is taken care of. No people aren't born equal but a sample of equity can be achieved if they try hard enough.

Izuku meets more people who got exploited by their quirks and so does nine. Nejire is a good example of a character being bullied because of her quirk and she is a direct foil to izuku midoriya which makes her more interesting

#mha #mha critical #bnha critical #bnha #horikoshi critical #thanks for the ask #bhna critical #thanks for the ask!#nine deserved better #what if #shigaraki critical #izuku midoriya

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kokomos · 1 year ago

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𝗠𝗬 𝗙𝗨𝗡𝗡𝗬 𝗩𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗘

au! no apocalypse abby anderson relationship headcanons

tags: no outbreak, college student abby, fluff

+ The beginning of Abby's life started out like one from the movies. For a while, life for the Andersons was perfect, until her mother tragically passed away. It was a shock to the whole family, but Abby barely remembered the woman by the time she had turned four and those few memories were now lost for good.

+ Since Jerry raised her by himself, practically since birth, Abby evidently lacked a mother figure. There were the other kids' moms but not one she could call her own. The fact that she had no mother hadn't bothered her much before, actually she rarely ever thought about that part of her life. Until middle school when she hit puberty and Jerry realized that no amount of effort he put in could match that of a woman, someone who knew exactly what Abby was going through. Consequently, Marlene started coming around more to help out; Jerry regarded her as his closest friend and believed she would be a good role model for his daughter.

+ Abby went on to pursue medicine, more specifically surgery but she's still wondering which branch. It's leaning towards neurological surgery, the same as her father.

+ Aside from her medical studies, she plays for the college's lacrosse team. Needless to say, she's the best on the team. Teammates love her, coaches, student fans... Hell even the other team can't help but practically swoon over her. She's just so naturally charismatic and considerate, it doesn't matter if she's on the field. You can catch her checking up on the other players to ask how they're feeling or to give them borderline unwarranted praise. It's just a game at the end of the day, and although she wants to win, enjoying the sport with everyone is more important.

+ You and Abby literally run into each other when meeting for the first time. She's rushing to class because for the one time ever she's late; when suddenly she turns a corner and bumps right into you. For some reason, she disregards all previous efforts in favor of asking you out.

+ She lives at home with her dad, opting to commute rather than dorm. Given that it's been just the two of them for so long, leaving Jerry behind would fill her with too much guilt. Abby doesn't care about living away from campus, especially since Jerry respects her and every part of her life, even the parts he may disapprove of.

+ Don't let Jerry catch you with Abby when she's skipping class. Once or twice is a lapse in judgement, but any more is a pattern and it'll make him think you're a bad influence. He'll scold her in front of you, no shame.

+ Jerry secretly enjoys your presence in the house, noticing how it seems more full of life when you're over. Try to study with Abby, medical terminology is the easiest to help with being that it requires nothing but a term and definition to teach. A couple flashcards later and Jerry will practically give you his blessing.

+ Speaking of, she can't wait to get married. It's something she's dreamed of since she was a little girl; to be so in love with someone that you decide you'll be together for the rest of your joint lives... It was a cute belief until she learned about divorce. Still, she remains overly optimistic in terms of love, believing that whoever she's meant to be with will find her.

+ And you, you really make her happy. She's always been a joyful individual but you've taken that tendency to new extremes.

+ Abby uses old-fashioned dating moves like the ones she's observed from all the classics her dad made her watch in order to 'educate' her. Out of the blue, she'll show up on your doorstep with flowers and chocolate; it's a timeless gift. Takes you on surprise dates when you let her. One time she took it too far and surprised you with dinner to some high-end restaurant you've been wanting to try. Thoughtful idea with an awful execution since you didn't dress for the occasion at all. She didn't even notice until you pointed it out, she was too busy looking at your pretty face to care about anything else.

+ Does not let you pay for stuff! Jerry gave her a card under his name when she turned 18 because he wanted Abby to have total focus on her education and extracurriculars (alongside an active social life). He trusts her completely and knows she's not the type to abuse his kindness by making useless and/or expensive purchases.

+ Dates with you are a necessity, though; it's a weekly thing the two of you committed to within the first month of getting together. Abby thinks it's crucial to set aside one night to eat together face-to-face, she finds the whole ordeal intimate and domestic in an unexpected way.

+ It's probably a month or two in the relationship that she asks if you want to spend the night. In the morning she's almost begging you to sleep over again that night, telling you she'll order in your favorite food and the two of you can watch a movie before a fuck cuddle sesh.

+ The smartest gf ever, she likes keeping you informed on the subjects she's learning about in class. It actually helps increase some of your medical knowledge just by being around her, she's a natural teacher after all.

+ She tries to see you as much as she can around her busy schedule. If she can't see you that day she calls and texts when she's got a second to be on her phone; And she always makes up for lost time. After a quick reunion, she'll lock the two of you in her room for hours, letting you know exactly just how much she missed you.

+ Abby has a bright future ahead of her in this world, one she plans on sharing with you.

— ♡☆

#abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson headcanons #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson imagine #abby anderson x you #tlou #tlou2 #the last of us #the last of us 2 #the last of us x reader #the last of us imagine #the last of us fluff #the last of us headcanons

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transformers-synergize · 1 year ago

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Just spent the last hour browsing your blog instead of paying attention in class, love all your designs, seriously neat. Especially a fan of how buglike some of the features are, I love when robot/bugs or bug/robots mix designs with how amour naturally works. Art make brain go brrrr.

If you have a moment, would you mind telling me about the Lambo Twins in your continuity?

aw happy ya like my stuff!!!!

sure, i can talk about the twins.

The lambo twins are well spark twins. spark twins are rare a occurrence when a newly forming spark splits into two. bots whos spark fourm in this way often have a vary deep conection with each other. sideswipe and sunstreak while not being able to read echother minds, often knows what the other will do before they do it, and can always tell what the other is feeling.

their blades can switch to a hand/servo, but the fingers are a lot longer than their other normal hand/servo because ya... it turns into a sword.

Sunstreaker is egotistical, he knows he is the best and makes sure everyone knows it too. He has the skills, the looks, and the combat prowess to back it up as well. Sunstreaker only really cares about himself and Sideswipe, considering pretty much every bots below him or not worth his time. often making sly comments, belittling or cracking jokes about bots who he deems lesser. his friends are either sideswipes friends who can tolerate him or bots who think he's cool, which is often for factors outside his personality. He's always down for a good fight being ruthless in combat while still somehow managing to get as little dirt or energon on himself as possible, sometimes being nearly spotless after a battle aside from the energon coating his blade. Sunny likes to keep himself in good condition, making sure his paint is perfect and his polish shines, it really helps accentuate how he's the best. Sunny is not a huge fan of earth or the fleshy little monkeys that run it, he just wants to go home to Cybertron.

sideswipe is the friendlier of the two brothers he's outgoing and usually pretty chill. Sideswipes is always looking for a fight. He loves the thrill of combat. He often will treat serious situations more like a game than the high danger situations he often places in. When a fight is not available, he is often sparring with his fellow autobots or trying risky stunts. He's very impulsive, often doing the first thing that comes to mind because he thought it might be fun never considering the consequences. He's kinda like a jock who treats war like a sport. His merciless approach to combat can often put him at odds with the more peaceful-minded autobots, putting some tension between him and some bots who he otherwise gets along with. He often tense and banter with other autobots, sometimes making jokes at their expense, but unlike sunny he usually knows when to stop or when he's gone too far. A sideswipe doesn't mind earth and sees it as a cool new adventure, though he is still a little homesick for cybertron.

They are a terrifying force in combat, ruthless fighting perfectly in sync with each other and usually 2 steps ahead of whoever they are put up against. when Working together they are able to take down cons over 5 times their size with ease. although not being the biggest or the strongest autobots, they are probably some of the most terrifying and efficient in combat.

In short their both of the autobots' greatest combat assets and greatest headache.

#sunstreaker #sideswipe #transformers #transformers fan continuity #transformers remnants #tfr #art post #text post #sunny is not a good person/bot #sideswipe is pretty chill he still has his jerkish moments but no were near as bad as his brother #their both problem causers #i have an arc sorta in mind were sunny get slightly better #i forgot to put this in but sunny is slightly better at combat than sideswipe

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karahalloway · 8 months ago

Text

(Less Than) Noble Intentions: Chapter 18 - Diplomatica

Fandom: TRR

Pairing: Drake Walker x F!OC (Harper Gale)

Series Summary: The social season may be over, but Harper Gale’s problems are just beginning. With everyone at court a potential suspect, can she and Drake survive the engagement tour and get to the bottom of the plot against her and clear her name? An AU take of TRR2 featuring my OTP - Harper & Drake.

Masterlist: (Less Than) Noble Intentions

Chapter Summary: Harper, Olivia and the Beaumonts arrive in Rome... but not everyone is happy to see them

Word Count: 5,300

Rating/Warnings: None (for once 🤣)

Chapter theme song:

A/N1: Lots of Italian and random cultural/historical tidbits in this... but, then again, we are in Italy, so the foreign language aspect will be a bit of a running theme through the next few chapters (sorry...not sorry - I actually learnt some Italian in the process!)

A/N2: @aussiegurl1234, before you ask, yes, I HC that Vito bears a striking resemblance to Michele Morrone 😆

Chapter 18 - Diplomatica

"How is it hotter here than in Cordonia?" I gasp as I step out onto the jet's airstairs.

"Italy is a peninsula," Olivia says from behind me, slotting on a pair of Versace cat-eye shades. "It is more exposed to the anti-cyclones that blow up from the Sahara."

My mouth drops as I make my way down onto the steaming tarmac. "This heatwave... is coming from Africa?"

No wonder it feels like the inside of a furnace!

"It certainly isn't coming from the Arctic!" bemoans Bertrand as he shields his face from the intensity of the rays with an upraised hand. "Though what a welcome change that would be!"

"Brr...!" objects Maxwell with a shiver. "No thank you! I've had my yearly fill of sub-zero temps at Olivia's!"

"You're welcome," comes the snippy response as the Duchess of Lythikos strides past us.

"That said, turning the mercury down a few notches wouldn't hurt..." I remark, squinting accusatorily up at the beating sun.

"The summer heatwaves have been growing longer and more intense over recent years," Olivia advises from up front, "leading to consequent effects on food and water security, power generation, infrastructure, not to mention the added burden on the healthcare system across Europe. It is one of the items on the agenda for Christian's roundtable with the Italian Prime Minister tomorrow."

I frown as I arrive at the passenger-side door of the first in a trio of waiting Porsche Macan GTS's. "I thought this was supposed to be an engagement tour..."

"It is," she confirms as a black-suited Italian sporting close-cropped hair and aviators opens the door for her. "But any foreign visit involving a high-ranking head of state is — by its nature — a diplomatic event as well."

"I guess that makes sense," I concede, sliding into the relative reprieve offered by the SUV's A/C system. "Though you said Christian is meeting with the Prime Minister tomorrow... I thought that was supposed to be today. Did something change?"

"No," derides Bertrand as he settles in next to me. "Today, the King is partaking in a meet-and-greet with the Italian President, followed by a private audience with the Pope while the future Queen is fitted for her wedding trousseau, capped off by dinner and a performance of Tosca at the Teatro dell'Opera in the evening. While tomorrow we have been invited to brunch at the Cordonian Consulate, after which the King has a round-table discussion with the Prime Minister, and day will be closed out by a state gala."

"Oh," I mutter sheepishly. "So, the Prime Minister isn't the same as the President...?"

"The Prime Minister is the head of government, while the President is the head of state," the elder Beaumont instructs as Maxwell squishes himself into the backseat on the other side of me. "The roles are quite distinct."

"Of course they are..." I huff under my breath.

Seems like in addition to Olivia's list of influential Cordonian nobles, I will also need to memorise a textbook on European constitutional history...

Though, now I am doubly glad of the business-like, but nevertheless stylish pale pink, high-necked pencil dress that Bertrand foisted on me this morning — it definitely would not have been great to show up underdressed to such a high-level meeting!

"But we must hurry!" the elder Beaumont proclaims. "We are due at the Presidential Palace in just under an hour, and we still need to fight our way through the notoriously infernal Roman traffic!"

"Not to worry," Olivia assures us with a sly smirk from the front passenger seat. "Vito here knows all the shortcuts."

"That sounds ominous..." I mutter, reaching for the seatbelt on instinct.

"I prefer 'expeditious'," she counters, turning to Vito, who has now taken up position behind the wheel. "Andiamo."

"Certamente, Duchessa," he nods, throwing the car forward with a violent depression of the gas pedal.

The sudden acceleration yanks an inadvertent gasp from my lips as I'm thrown back in my seat... just like on that afternoon in Ramsford when Drake pulled the same stunt on the Beaumonts' driveway.

I feel my throat tighten as I glance inadvertently out the window. God, I hope he's okay...

I know in the back of my mind that I'm probably making myself anxious for no reason. Drake is an adult, perfectly capable of taking care of himself... including in close-quarters situations. He's demonstrated that to me plenty of times.

Yet, I still can't help but worry about him. Especially when he's off in a foreign country (all by himself for all I know...), having left with basically no good-bye, and with definitely no assurance of when he expects to get back.

And while I know that he is doing this for me — so we can collar Tariq and extract whatever information he has in relation to the plot to influence the outcome of the social season... and to answer for what he did to me in Applewood — the wait is killing me. I have no idea where he is, what he is doing, and whether he even has his phone turned on, given the high-stakes nature of his self-appointed task.

Which is why I have held off trying to reach out to him (...even though the baser, needier part of me is itching to do exactly that), as I don't want to be the one to interrupt a crucial moment by setting his phone off with an ill-timed call or text, especially considering the three-hour time difference...

I heave a breath.

I just have to trust him. Like he asked me to at every turn of this increasingly bumpy road that we've been travelling since I left New York. And hope that we are finally on our way out of the woods.

Exiting the boundaries of the airport, Vito navigates the Porsche onto a highway where we are able to pick up some speed. Olivia uses the opportunity to open up her phone, throwing some questions in Italian to her associate every so often as we cruise along. Bertrand is similarly occupied, while Maxwell has slipped on some Bose headphones and is bobbing away to the beat.

Which leaves me to stare somewhat aimlessly out the window, watching the scenery roll by in a bid to keep myself distracted.

But the reprieve ends up being somewhat of a welcome one. The various warehouses and road-side auto lots surrounding the airport quickly give way to a tree-lined thoroughfare, and I find myself basking in the calming effects of the greenery, not having expected to encounter such a bucolic sight on the road to a major urban centre.

Eventually, though, the vegetation gives way to the crumbling walls of some kind of expansive estate that we end up following for a good few miles until the asphalt road changes over to cobblestones and we pass in front the gates of a red-bricked stone fortress that looks like it's been plucked straight from the set of Game of Thrones.

"Wow..." I can't help but breathe as I take in the sight of the towering structure simmering under the light of the mid-morning sun.

"Le mura aureliane," advises Vito from up front, catching my awed expression through the rear-view mirror. "Costruita dall'imperatore Aureliano per difendere Roma dai barbari."

I nod distractedly, craning my neck as we turn a corner to follow the path of the ancient structure that is somehow still standing despite the clear ravages of time and weather.

Nothing lasts like this anymore...

Making another turn, we pass beneath an arched portion of the wall, and the road before us opens up into a leafy boulevard that takes us into the city proper. And from there, it's one jaw-dropping piece of architecture after another jostling for space between more modern buildings and seemingly never-ending rows of trees.

"I didn't expect Rome to be so green..." I admit to no one in particular as I eye up the unusual-looking shrubs.

"You can thank the Ancient Romans," supplies Bertrand without glancing up from his phone. "They planted the now-iconic stone pines in scores along the major roadways in part to serve as ornamentation, and in part to provide a steady supply of pine nuts, which are an essential ingredient in many dishes, including pesto and various pies and tarts."

"It certainly was worth the effort," I agree, watching the evergreens drift past on either side of us.

Though, as Bertrand predicted, the closer we get to the centre of the ancient capital, the increasingly chaotic the traffic becomes, with cars, buses and mopeds all vying for space on the roads, requiring Vito to make recourse to his own horn as well as various offensive gestures in order to narrowly avoid a slew of accidents... and I suddenly have a slightly better appreciation for why Drake drives the way he does. Because based on my experiences first in France and now in Italy, it appears that on the Mediterranean, might equals right when it comes to priority on the road, and unless you're forceful, you ain't getting nowhere.

Managing to finally extricate ourselves from the constraints of a complicated intersection, we end up on a quieter road running parallel to a long patch of bunkered-looking grass on our left.

"What's that?" I ask, tapping Vito on his shoulder.

"Il Circo Massimo," he advises.

My eyes widen. "That's the Circus Maximus?"

"Sì," he nods. "L'antico stadio romano costruito per le corse dei carri."

"Unbelievable..." I murmur, slumping back into my seat in awe.

There is nothing comparable back home — even the oldest still-extant pre-Columbian structures date to only the first millennia A.D. Whereas here we are, casually cruising past a seminal piece of history that is still embedded into the fabric of the city nearly three thousand years after its construction. And we haven't even seen the Colosseum, or the Forum yet!

Rome really is the Eternal City...

Leaving the green fields of the Circus behind us, we enter a more urban-looking environment as we start to climb a hill. The white- and sand-coloured buildings cluster closer together, and the general architecture becomes more uniformly Baroque, until we arrive in a large plaza dominated by a massive, Neo-Classical structure that towers over everything else.

"Il Vittoriano," Vito offers without prompting.

"Is that where we're having brunch with the President?" I ask, slack-mouthed as I stare up at the imposing building.

It certainly looks impressive enough to house the head of a country!

"Of course not!" admonishes Bertrand. "The Vittoriano is a symbolic collection of monuments built to commemorate the rule of King Victor Emmanuel II and the unification of Italy. The President resides at the Quirinal Palace, which is located on a wholly different Roman hill!"

"Oh," I mutter sheepishly.

"Like she is going to know the difference," scoffs Oliva from the front. "They don't even teach The Art of War in her schools... How can you expect her to know anything about Italian history?"

"Italian history is foundational history!" insists Bertrand. "The Romans were instrumental in shaping not just the course of European, but Northern African and Middle Eastern events for millennia! How can they neglect to teach American children about this?"

"Because the focus is on US history," I tell them wearily as Vito navigates us to the other side of the square.

"Surely that is an afternoon's worth of lessons at most?" the elder Beaumont queries sceptically. "Your country was only founded in the conventional sense of the word in the mid-1600s..."

"Most Americans haven't been to Europe," I remind him, watching the rows of buildings flick past on either side of us as we begin the ascent up another hill. "They don't necessarily have a basis of comparison."

"Sounds like your curriculum is somewhat lacking in scope, then..." he surmises with pursed lips.

"Yeah, well..." I retort dryly, "I don't write the textbooks. Though, speaking of education, is there any chance for some sightseeing? It would be a shame to spend two days here and not actually see anything..."

"While I wholeheartedly approve of the sentiment," Bertrand replies, "I am afraid that you will have to make do with the cultural experiences offered by the various host venues on the official itinerary. Which — I admit — are no Pantheon, or Sistine Chapel, but are impressive and important cultural artefacts, nevertheless. The Quirinal Palace, for instance, so named for the Quirinal Hill on which it sits, is actually the sixth largest palace in the world and has served as the primary residence of such notable figures as—"

I let out a low exhale as Bertrand launches into a full-blown historical recital. And while the details are definitely interesting, I didn't come all this way to listen to a one-man rendition of a Roman guidebook.

Which makes me all the more determined to find some kind of opportunity to slip away from the official tour — even if it's just for an hour to toss a coin into the Trevi Fountain — so that I can experience something of the magic that this breathtaking city has to offer.

When, I have no idea, given the busyness of our schedule, but I managed to orchestrate an escape plan to see the capital back in Cordonia, so I'm confident I'll be able to pull something similar... albeit without Drake's help this time. But despite the set-backs, I'm not about to miss out on this kind of once-in-a-lifetime experience...

With my intention firmly set, the car rounds an uphill corner, and we are suddenly on the edge of yet another expansive plaza secured by a rim of strategically placed concrete planters and a pair of police cars.

Vito pulls to a stop and slides the window down to exchange a few quick words with the officer who has come to greet us.

"Passports," instructs Olivia, reaching into her purse.

Opening up the white, Medusa emblazoned Versace clutch sitting on my lap — which I am sure cost more than what I would've ever made in a month working as a waitress back home, but which Bertrand had insisted on as a 'necessary' Italian-themed accessory — I pull out my shiny, new Cordonian passport and pass it to the front.

Maxwell and Bertrand do the same, and there is a couple of minutes of tense silence while the stern-looking officer inspects each document to verify our identities, while another policeman does a circuit 'round the car with a convex safety mirror.

Finally, the policeman hands the passports back with a curt nod, and waves us through.

"Were they not expecting us?" I query as I slot my credentials away again.

"They were," Olivia advises. "But we are arriving separately from the royal delegation, so the State Police are obligated to run a security check."

"Why?"

The Duchess of Lythikos scoffs back at me. "To ensure that we are not terrorists trying to kill the President with a car bomb... Or did that part go over your head?"

"No..." I hit back sarcastically. "I meant why are we arriving separately?"

She looks back at me with an arched brow. "Would you have preferred to deal with the press?"

"I... No," I admit.

She turns back to the front with a smirk. "Didn't think so."

Vito pulls the car to a stop in front of a small courtyard decked out with a red carpet and intertwined streamers made out in the colours of Cordonia's and Italy's flags. Allard and Schweitzer — who had been travelling in the car behind us — appear to open the doors for us.

Bertrand scoots out of the backseat first, before turning back to offer me his hand.

"Thanks," I say with a sincere smile, grasping his fingers to help pull myself up.

"Always my pleasure," he replies with a genuine smile.

Smoothing my skirt, I gaze up at the somewhat understated-looking entranceway, suddenly nervous about the prospect of acting as a newly-minted ambassador of Cordonia. I mean... three months ago, I was bussing tables at a dive bar for less than minimum wage, and now here I am, decked out in clothes that cost more than the rent I was paying for a fifth-storey walk-up, about to have an official meeting with a foreign country's head of state.

To say that I feel like a fraud is a massive understatement.

"What are you waiting for?" asks Olivia, breezing past me with all the confidence of a woman who's done this a hundred times before... probably because she has. "For the grass to grow?"

"I—"

"I heard the President loves chocolate bomboloni," offers Maxwell enthusiastically, linking his arm through mine to tug me down the length of the red carpet.

"What's...that?" I ask, forcing myself to swallow down the sudden dryness in my throat.

Maxwell's face collapses into an aghast look of shock. "Only the best pastry-based dessert! Second only to cronuts, of course!"

"That's definitely a high bar to hit," I admit.

"Think mini doughnuts with gooey chocolate filling, dusted with powdered sugar," he explains. "They literally melt in your mouth!"

"Except we are not here to indulge infantile cravings for sugary treats," reprimands Bertrand as we pass through the arched doorway. "We are here to partake in important discussions relating to matters of state, and t—"

"Pfft," scoffs Olivia. "Speak for yourself, Beaumont. These meetings are dull as shite. I'm here for the sweets."

I can't help but snort at the unexpected riposte... as well as the resultant sight of Bertrand's jaw hitting the parquet flooring. And I unexpectedly find myself feeling better about the whole experience. Because despite whatever nerves I may be feeling, the fact that Olivia and the Beaumonts are with me means that I am not alone in this.

Passing into the coolness of the building, we are greeted by a middle-aged woman who proceeds to lead us through a veritable rabbit warren of ante-rooms and corridors before we finally arrive in an expansive room dominated by a pair of jaw-dropping crystal chandeliers suspended from a vaulted, hand-painted ceiling.

"La Salle Bronzino," informs our guide, indicating that we should step through.

"Wow..." I breathe, trying to take in the opulence with as much composure as I can.

A slew of camera shutters click to life upon our arrival.

Jerking my gaze down from the delicate, celestial fresco above me, I spot the handful of photographers aiming their lenses at me.

I stifle a groan as I plaster a demure smile onto my face. "I thought you said there wouldn't be any reporters."

"This is an official state visit," Bertrand hisses out of the corner of his mouth. "Of course, there will be reporters!

"Just not as many as there would have been outside earlier," Olivia assures me.

My shoulders slump in acquiescence. "Take the wins you can get, I guess..."

"Ah, you made it!" exclaims Christian, striding up to us with a jovial grin. "Traffic wasn't too terrible, I hope?"

"Nothing Vito couldn't handle," Olivia assures him, dipping into a chaste curtesy as the photographers snap eagerly away.

Christian turns to me with a good-natured chuckle. "And Lady Harper... First impressions haven't put you off, have they?"

"No," I assure him, bobbing down politely as well, knowing that everyone in the room now has their eyes on us. "The exact opposite, actually."

"Excellent," he beams, holding my gaze for a second longer than he did with Olivia. "I have to admit that I have a bit of a soft spot for Rome, myself."

"It really is a—"

"Darling," interjects Madeleine with a steely smile, appearing at her fiancé's shoulder. "You really should focus your attentions on the President. He has been gracious enough to open up his home for us, after all..."

Christian's nostrils flare with the briefest flash of irritation as he pulls back slightly. "Quite. Let us go make the necessary introductions."

Madeleine bristles. "That is not what I—"

Deftly ignoring her, Christian extends his arm decisively towards an elderly man wearing a sombre suit and gold-rimmed glasses. "Shall we?"

"I guess so?" I concede, already feeling myself being steered past the silently fuming countess.

"Now remember," Bertrand mutters next to me as Christian leads us down the length of the room. "In the context of a formal conversation, it is always lei — never tu — when addressing your counterpart, so for the love of all that is holy, please do not—"

"Singor Presidente," proclaims Christian as he pulls to a stop. "Permettetemi di presentarvi altri membri della nostra delegazione."

The President raises his head dutifully. "Certamente."

"Questo è Singor Bertrand Beaumont, duca di Ramsford, e suo fratello, Maxwell."

The Beaumonts bow their heads dutifully.

"Beaumont..." the President frowns. "Sai, mi suona familiare. Sei parente di Signor Bartholemy, per caso?"

"Sì," Bertrand confirms. "Egli è nostro padre."

The President is nodding in recollection. "Sì... sì... Ha accompagnato il re precedente in molte occasioni. Sei molto simile a lui."

"Sì, la somiglianza di famiglia è forte," Bertrand acknowledges.

"E questa è Singorina Olivia Nevrakis, duchessa di Lythikos, un mio carissimo amico, e fedele sostenitrice del famiglia Rys."

Olivia holds out her hand. "E' un piacere conoscerla, Signore Presidente."

The President drops a chaste kiss on the back of her hand. "Il piacere è tutto mio."

"E finalmente," concludes Christian, "questa è Singorina Harper, la nuova duchessa di Valtoria."

The President's brows arc inquisitively. "Singorina Harper... You are... American? No?"

"Sì," I affirm as I offer my hand out. "Ma ho praticato mio Italiano..."

The President's mouth cracks into a genuine smile. "And you are doing very well, Singorina! Tell me, have you visited la città eterna before?"

"No, this is my first time," I admit, also switching to English, now that the formalities are over and done with. "But even the ride from the airport was utterly magical! It's like stepping into history!"

"Sì," the President affirms with a grin. "Us Romans are unspeakably lucky to be able to call such a beautiful city our home. It is a place of many treasures."

"What is your favourite part of the city?" I ask.

The President blinks in surprise at the unexpected intimacy of the request. "That is a difficult question... But if I am forced to choose... it would have to be this little forno next to la Fontana di Trevi which makes a very unique — and very delicious — pistachio croissant. It is not for every person, but if you have a spirit of adventure, then I suggest you try it."

"Thank you," I say with a sincere smile, filing the suggestion away. "I definitely will!"

"I cannot say that I have had the pleasure of sampling this treat, either," Christian admits, with a knowing glance down at me. "But Lady Harper has excellent taste in pastries — she was actually kind enough to introduce us to an American delicacy called a cronut. It was a big hit all around."

"A cronut?" queries the President. "I cannot say I am familiar..."

"Don't worry," Maxwell assures him with a conspiratorial grin. "We'll bring you one. If you'll trade us some bomboloni in exchange?"

Bertrand's already sunburnt face reddens further. "Maxwell! You cannot entreat the President t—"

"You like bomboloni, also?" interjects the President with keen interest.

"Of course!" Maxwell affirms enthusiastically. "Anyone who doesn't like them clearly has something wrong with them!"

"Sounds like you have excellent taste in pastries as well, Signore Maxwell!" chuckles the President.

The conversation continues to revolve around our shared food interests for a few more minutes, until an aide clears his throat from behind the President.

"Accettare le mie scuse," he apologises. "But I am being advised that it is time for the photographs and the speeches."

"Of course," nods Christian graciously, indicating that the President should lead the way to the front of the room where a small podium has been set up.

As the two men peel away from the group, I cast my eyes 'round the space and spot Hana standing by one of the large windows. Giving her a wave, I use the brief break in the proceedings to make my way over to her.

"So, what's the view like from this side of the room?" I ask by way of greeting.

"Quieter than your side," she admits wryly. "You certainly seemed to be having an engaging conversation with the President!"

"We discovered a shared love for sugary treats," I admit. "You should've joined us — you could've bragged about that baking championship that you won."

"It's alright," she demurs with a blush. "It's actually been nice to take a moment to step away from the crowd."

"Oh?" I ask, laying a concerned hand on her arm. "Is something wrong?"

She heaves a breath, as if debating whether to tell me. Finally, she says, "I have been fending off suitors."

My brow shoots skywards. "How many proposals have you had?"

"Since I arrived...? Probably twelve..."

My eyes bulge. "Twelve! That's like two a day!"

"Yes," she concedes with a weary exhale. "Lady Madeleine has been extremely gracious in personally introducing me to numerous eligible bachelors—"

"—but none of them are Maxwell," I surmise.

Her eyes flick up to mine before dropping back down sorrowfully. "No. But for the sake of my parents, I must entertain every available option in an honest manner."

"That definitely sounds exhausting..." I concede. "But hopefully now that we're out of the country, you can catch a bit of a break."

"I am not so sure..." she admits. "I have been advised that a number of well-connected Italians will be in attendance at the opera tonight..."

"Pfft...!" I scoff. "Just take the night off... Pretend to be sick... Run off with Maxwell to get some gelato... Actually enjoy being in Italy!"

Hana blushes. "I—"

The chime of a bell rings out across the room, interrupting our conversation.

Looking up, I see that all heads have turned dutifully towards the twin forms standing on the dais as they prepare to address the congregation.

"Vostra Altezza Reale, colleghi delegati, Signore e Signori," greets the President, "È un onore, per me, ospitare la delegazione reale di Cordonia, nostro vicino e stretto alleato per centinaia di anni. È passato troppo tempo da—"

As the speech winds on, I find myself tuning out, given that I am only able to understand every third or fourth word. But, not wanting to come across as rude by continuing my catch-up with Hana, I instead try to occupy myself by examining the two large tapestries suspended on the walls.

A round of applause draws me out of my reverie, and I join in on auto-pilot as the President hands off to Christian. Several more minutes of lilting Italian fills the room, during which time I move my attentions to the Roman-looking busts, wondering which emperors they depict.

Finally, the speeches come to a close, and I heave a sigh of relief.

"Did you understand any of that?" I ask Hana as the President presents Christian with some kind of medal, and the two men pose for photos.

"Of course," she nods. "My parents—"

"—have been giving you Italian lessons since before you could talk?" I finish dryly.

Hana's cheeks dimple. "Not quite that young, but yes. I am what they consider 'proficient'."

"Meaning, you speak it better than I speak English," I joke.

She snorts in response. "I wouldn't say that..."

"But it's true," I say with a smirk, happy to see that Hana's time back at court has not completely crushed her sense of humour.

"Ah, I've missed talking to you, Harper," she says with genuine feeling. "The last few days have felt so busy that I feel like we haven't spoken in months!"

"Yeah, tell me about it..." I agree with a huff. "In the space of a week, I've become a Cordonian citizen, been granted a duchy, gone from number five to number one on Madeleine's shit list, and—"

Hana's eyes widen. "It's not that bad, surely...!"

"It's probably worse," I admit. "And being on the front page of the Cordonian Sun — again — is probably not helping matters either..."

"Yes, I saw that article..." she commiserates with feeling. "I'm sorry that the press are treating you in that manner again."

"Hey, it's not your fault," I assure her. "But the press aren't all bad — I managed to convince Ana de Luca to help us track down the photographer who took those pictures of me and Tariq, and she actually came through yesterday."

"That's great!" she enthuses. "I have to admit that I have not had much success on my side... Madeleine does not permit her ladies-in-waiting to handle any of her private correspondence, including her mobile phones and laptop. And she has only talked to us about the upcoming events on the tour..."

"Well, it was a bit of a long-shot, anyway," I concede with a shrug. "But who knows? We might get—"

"Pardon," interrupts Kiara with a pointed cough. "But the Queen requests your presence."

I roll my eyes with a scoff. "She's not married to Christian yet..."

"But she will be soon," she reminds me pointedly. "So, it is actuellement in your interest to remain on her good side, given that you are now a duchess."

I feel the corner of my mouth scrunch into a mou of dissent, but I force myself not to pick apart the many things that are wrong with her statement. "Fine. Where is Her Majesty?"

"Bidding adieu to the President," she advises. "She has asked that in the meantime I gather the ladies who are to accompany her to the wedding boutique."

"Does she really need an entourage to go shopping?" I ask as we start making our way back to the double doors at the far end of the room.

"It is tradition for the suitors who were not picked at the end of the social season to assist the queen-to-be in the preparations for the wedding, including selecting her bridal gown and trousseau."

"Wonder how many times that's gone wrong before..." I mutter under my breath.

"It is a ritual de beaucoup d'importance," Kiara insists seriously. "The former suitors — and their families — demonstrate their public support for the union via the personal assistance they provide the bride and groom in the lead-up to the big day, as well as in the act of taking on key roles during the ceremony itself."

"Let me guess..." I grumble. "We're all going to be maids of honour, too..."

"In Cordonia, the correct term is 'witness'," she corrects. "They are the ones chosen by the couple to countersign the marriage certificate. Mais oui — it is likely that one or two of us will be called upon in such a manner."

"Great..." I sigh, arriving at the entranceway where Penelope and Olivia are already waiting. "All the things we get to look forward to..."

"Oh, Lady Harper!" squeals Penelope in excitement. "I love your dress! How do you always manage to find such super chic pieces?"

"Uhh..." I say, genuinely taken aback by her enthusiasm. "Bertrand picked this, actually..."

Olivia snorts derisively. "You mean Lord Tweedle-Dee? Please... That man has worse fashion sense than Jared Leto."

"Actually, he—"

"If you lot are quite finished with your asinine chit-chit," snaps Madeline as she strides imperiously past us, "you can pick up your feet. We are already running late for my appointment... Which took months to schedule, so don't you dare make me miss it!"

I meet Hana's gaze with a fish-eyed look. "Ever heard the term 'bridezilla' before?"

"No," she admits with a frown. "But it sounds scary..."

"Oh, trust me!" I assure her as we bring up the rear. "It is! Especially since it sounds like Madeleine is planning to take the concept to a whole 'nother level..."

The story continues in Chapter 19: Field Day

A/N: Translations for the Italian below:

At the airport: Andiamo - Let's go

Certamente, Duchessa - Certainly, Duchess

En route Lemura aureliane. Costruitadall'imperatore Aureliano per difendere Roma dai barbari. - The Aurelian Wall. It was constructed by the Emperor Aurelian to defend Rome against barbarians.

Il Circo Massimo - The Circus Maximus

Sì. L'antico stadio romano costruito per le corsedei carri. - Yes. The ancient Roman stadium constructed for chariot racing.

Il Vittoriano - This is a colloquial nickname for the Monument to Victor Emmanuel II

At the Presidential Palace Singor Presidente. Permettetemi di presentarvi altri membri della nostra delegazione. - Mr President. Allow me to introduce some additional members of our delegation.

Certamente - Certainly

Questo è Singor Bertrand Beaumont, duca di Ramsford, e suo fratello, Maxwell. - This is Lord Bertrand Beaumont, Duke of Ramsford, and his brother, Maxwell.

Beaumont... Sai, mi suona familiare. Sei parente di Signor Bartholemy, per caso? - Beaumont... You know, that sounds familiar. Are you related to Lord Bartholemy, by chance?

Sì. Egli è nostro padre. - Yes. He is our father.

Sì...sì... Ha accompagnato il re precedente in molte occasioni. Sei molto simile a lui. - Yes... Yes... He accompanied the former king on many occasions. You look a lot like him.

Sì, la somiglianza di famiglia è forte. - Yes, there is a notable family resemblance.

E questaè Singorina Olivia Nevrakis, duchessa di Lythikos,un mio carissimo amico, e fedele sostenitrice del famiglia Rys. - And this is Lady Olivia Nevrakis, Duchess of Lythikos, a dear friend of mine, and loyal supporter of the Rys family.

E' un piacere conoscerla, Signore Presidente. - My sincere pleasure, Mr President.

Il piacere è tutto mio. - The pleasure is all mine.

E finalmente, questa è Singorina Harper, la nuova duchessa di Valtoria. - And finally, this is Lady Harper, the new Duchess of Valtoria.

Sì. Ma hopraticato mio Italiano.* - Yes. But I am practising my Italian. *Italian speakers will note that there is a grammatical mistake here (the correct phrasing is 'Ho praticato il mio italiano'). However, the mistake is deliberate because Harper learnt Italian literally an hour ago, so she's not going to be perfect at it!

La città eterna - the Eternal City (nickname for Rome)

Accettare le mie scuse - [Please] Accept my apologies.

Vostra Altezza Reale, colleghi delegati, Signore e Signori. È un onore, per me, ospitare la delegazionereale di Cordonia, nostro vicino e stretto alleato per centinaia di anni. Èpassato troppo tempo da— Your Royal Highness, fellow delegates, ladies and gentlemen. It is my honour to host the royal delegation of Cordonia, our neighbour and ally for many centuries. It has been far too long since—

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elusive-mayfly · 2 years ago

Text

If Vash was reverse-isekai-ed

There was something in the night sky. A bright light. Was it a star? No, it couldn’t be a star, it was too bright and… getting bigger? Was it safe to get closer? But get closer how? How does one get closer to the sky? How was no one else seeing this? You felt like you should be scared, at the very least more cautious. This was potentially a supernatural event and you were at the centre of it. The hair on the back of your neck stood upwards. Someone else might have taken that as a sign to run, but… it felt like something was calling to you. Something was there and you had to see what it was, no matter what

When Vash appeared in this world, it was like he was brought here on a falling star. A mysterious light in the night sky that kept growing and growing and growing until it fell to earth and landed with a large impact. It was a miracle no one else was around to see this phenomenon.

There would be a moment of disbelief. How can this be the real Vash the Stampede? He's a character. But the supernatural falling star and the prosthetic arm are enough to convince you there was more to this person than what you could see on the surface.

Vash was entirely disoriented. He was screaming. Panicking. It took a second to realize he was not where he was just minutes ago. A few minutes ago, he was fighting his brother as they plummeted back to No Man's land. There should have been an explosion, Vash right at the center, but instead he was here.

He'd have a lot of questions, a lot you wouldn't be able to answer.

But it's a no brainer that it would be easier to talk things over in a secluded and safe environment, so when you offer to take Vash home, he follows. Besides, where else would he go?

Accepting that he was in a new world where he was safe took a long time. He didn't have to be looking over his shoulder for danger every few minutes. He could finally relax and not have to worry about what he thought was the inevitable: destruction around every corner that he was desperately running from.

There would be nights where he would try to sneak off without a goodbye. Whether it was because he felt like he was being a burden or because he still hadn't accepted he and the people around him were safe, he would try to leave a few times in the first few months of him being around. It took a lot of patience and compassion to convince him he could stay without consequences.

Having him stay was hard, though. He had no identification. He couldn't get a real job. He would do as much housework as he could to try and compensate for his living expenses, but there was only so much he could do. What if he got sick? What if something happened? There'd be a lot to work out and a lot of backup plans upon backup plans that you two would discuss.

It became a strict rule to not leave the house with his prosthetic attached. That kind of tech doesn't exist in our world and would draw too much attention if seen by other people.

It also became a rule of how many doughnuts he could have in one day. Doughnuts are cheap. You don't equate the price of doughnuts to the price of bullets in this world. You can get a half a dozen for less than six dollars depending on where you went. And so, you almost felt like a bartender making sure your customer didn't overindulge. One doughnut per day.

There was something so satisfying about watching Vash expand his interests. He had time to do things he thought he'd never be able to do, and there were many things he had enjoy that would never have been accessible to him in his own world. With expendable money, you both would often attend classes to learn or expand on different hobbies such as playing sports, baking, or making handmade crafts. One taste of freedom and Vash wanted more, he wanted to experience everything the world could offer to him at least once just to know what it'd be like.

He was enthralled with your world. Animals and nature all around were something he hadn't truly experienced before and he was enamored with it. He'd often go out just to sight see or people watch just to get a glimpse of what he could be and what he could enjoy.

It took him a tremendously long time to accept he was dancing on the edge of being real and not. He definitely was real, he was there and that was a fact. But he came from something not real, a fictional world.

He'd often watch the show he came from and would read online the manga that it originated from. It was interesting to him to see the scenes from his memory play out in a different perspective. It was both painful to revisit the crux of his existence, but soothing to hear the voices of people he missed. He would play scenes of him, Rem, and Nai over and over again. This window to his world was so close but so far.

Vash came to his own conclusions and found his own way to cope with it. He learned to accept that his world was very real to him even if it wasn't real to anyone else. But there's this faraway look he gets when he thinks about home, a place he may never see again with people he may never know again. That never went away.

#Vash Headcanons #Vash the Stampede #Vash x Reader #Vash x You #Vash x Y/N #Idk I have so many ideas and it all feels like rambling at this point #I feel like he'd try to convince people he was a cosplayer #And idk stick a paper towel roll that's painted black into his metal arm where the gap is so people just think it's a really realistic copy

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princeescaluswords · 1 year ago

Text

Not a Substitute for the Past

I have to push back against a particular take in Teen Wolf fandom that I feel is not only inaccurate but also a symptom of damaging behaviors in fandom.

Liam is not a Mini-Jackson and Mason is certainly not Danny-Lite.

Saying that Liam and Mason are some sort of cheap replacements for Jackson and Danny is to flatten their characters so much as to be unrecognizable. Of course, they are both best-friend duos, but there were literally four other 'best-friend duos' showcased in the production: Scott and Stiles; Allison and Lydia; Sebastian and Marcel; and Gabe and Nolan. Of them, Scott and Stiles are the most important; all the others, in their significantly different dynamics, serve to examine that relationship.

To me, the only thing that Liam and Jackson have in common is that they're white lacrosse stars. You would have to get rid of all their other character development in order to make the claim that Liam was a replacement for Jackson.

Jackson starts out as a rich, popular sports star, the captain of the lacrosse team, who strides through the halls of BHHS with the adoration of his peers, a smoking hot girlfriend, and protective and involved parents. As the seasons progress, we discover he has issues which spring from his learning that he was adopted and that his biological parents died on the night he was born. Jackson internalized this exterior tragedy, resulting in an impostor syndrome so strong that it had supernatural consequences. Because of this, he's insecure about his own value, and he reacts by being jealous, obsessive, and mean, frequently crossing the line into cruel. While his parents obviously care about him, he keeps them at arm's length. His relationship with Lydia is toxic; even though it's shown that both of them care about each other, it's too often mixed up with the false fronts they put up in order to maintain their status.

In contrast, Liam is younger, but he's definitely not popular. He's insecure, but this doesn't come from an exterior tragedy but a mental disorder: his I.E.D. His inability to cope with it effectively (which to Teen Wolf's credit is never shown as a moral deficiency) has lead to him being expelled from his former school, having an antagonistic relationship with his former coach and the entire Devenford lacrosse team, and having created Hayden as his nemesis. None-the-less, his relationship with his parents is strong, as far as we can tell and in contrast to Jackson. Dr. Geyer is a very good stepfather; we see that in Muted (4x03). Liam doesn't allow his insecurity to make him resent his parents; instead, he is driven to prove himself worthy of their love (which there is no indication that they would withhold). He doesn't have Jackson's status but he wants it, and while he can be stubborn, aggressive and competitive, he doesn't exhibits signs of jealousy or any willingness to hurt others to get what he wants. While he can lash out in anger, he's seldom mean and never cruel.

In addition, their relationships to the lead protagonist are very different, and that is NOT incidental. At the beginning of the show, Jackson's surface persona represents everything Scott aspires to (popularity, a girlfriend, to be seen and recognized) only for him to discover the hollowness beneath that facade. Then, in Season 4, Liam represents everything Scott has been forced to leave behind (the ability to be angry, the right to focus on himself, being taken care of rather than taking care of others, etc.). In the end, Liam isn't a replacement for Jackson because they don't serve the same function in the narrative.

To me, Danny and Mason are both gay -- though the idea that there is a designated gay character is so Eighties -- and they're both minorities -- which is just as Eighties -- but the very nature of their roles within their best-friend duos are vastly different.

Danny is Jackson's best friend on the lacrosse team, despite Jackson often being aggressive and sometimes even hostile toward him ("kind of always at a four"). Danny obviously cares but seems undisturbed by Jackson's more aggressive behavior, though he will push back if he thinks Jackson goes too far. Throughout the seasons, Danny exists in proximity to the supernatural goings-on, yet he manages to keep a distance even with several near misses, so much so that the audience was surprised that he had figured out Ethan's nature. It's not fear of danger; he can be transgressive when he wants to be. Danny manages people by drawing boundaries and respecting those boundaries in others.

On the other hand, Mason becomes far more active in Liam's supernatural life, and it's not because Liam doesn't try to keep him out of it. Mason is curious and involved, and he "wants to help." In fact, his desire to be there for Liam, in my opinion, often leads to Mason enabling Liam in his actions. When he meets the rest of the pack he's immediately willing to engage with them and help them out. He doesn't even hesitate to start the second-longest-lasting relationship in the show with the chimera Corey. Mason allows himself to be far more vulnerable in his relationship with Liam and with the supernatural in question, as compared to Danny's reticence. Another thing I appreciate is that neither approach toward friendship is shown as 'better' than the other. They're just different! (which is the point of this meta).

It will help if you think about these parallel scenes. In Venomous (2x06) Jackson and Danny are working out, and Danny remarks that Jackson is trying to lift far too much weight. Jackson snaps that he doesn't need a spotter, and Danny shrugs and leaves. "I'm hitting the shower. If I come back and you're lying dead underneath a pile of weight, I'm taking the Porsche." Danny still cares, but he's not going to let Jackson get under his skin. In A Promise to the Dead (4x11), the scene is recreated with Liam and Mason. Liam, rather than being consumed by disappointment like Jackson was, is trying to cope with his fear of the Berserkers. Mason, rather than leaving with a quip like Danny, stands there hurt by Liam's behavior. Scott has to caution Liam about pushing his friends away.

Same situation, different motivations from each character involved, demonstrating how while they might be best friends they act in the context of that friendship in different ways. Liam is running away from the possibilities of the supernatural, while Jackson is running toward them. Danny is willing to respect Jackson's boundaries while still caring for him, while Mason is hurt by his inability to help a clearly distressed friend. These difference help demonstrate Scott's evolving role in his peer group and his own growing skills in leadership. He is in a position to help Liam and Mason in a way he wasn't able to help Jackson and Danny.

Liam and Mason are not replacements for Jackson and Danny. Even if Jackson and Danny were present in season 4 through 6, they couldn't possibly have the same relationship with Scott because they were very different people.

#liam dunbar #mason hewitt #jackson whittemore #danny mahealani #scott mccall #teen wolf meta #fandom problems

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