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beanthebugboi · 3 months ago

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Canon/Headcanon likelihood chart

So I've been thinking about @macdenlover 's "levels of headcanon" chart (about how heavily a HC is influenced by canon), so I decided to make my own scale about how likely a HC is to be true (including different levels of canon) using queer cartoon characters as examples :)

I just spent an hour making this because I was bored. Enjoy. Image description under the cut.

Inspiration:

ID courtesy of @hatreds-og-imagedescriptions (thank you!!)

[ID: a chart going from 10 to 1, with explanations of the ratings on the left and images of characters with queer flags and descriptions of said characters on the right.

10: "Explicit canon. Clearly stated in the original media." Trans Barney from Dead end Paranormal Park. "Barney says "I'm transgender"".

9: "Implicit canon. Never explicitly stated, but 100% canon in the original media". Nonbinary Raine from The Owl House. "Raine never says "I'm nonbinary," but uses they/them and is never referred to as a man/woman (also, confirmed by Dana)".

8: "Creator confirmation. Never stated in the original media, but confirmed canon by the media's creator". Aroace Lilith from The Owl House. "While never mentioned/implied in TOH, Dana has confirmed that Lilith is aroace".

7: "Heavily implied. Never confirmed, but likely true (either by canon evidence or creator implication)". Genderfluid Nimona from Nimona. ""Aaand now you're a boy" "I am today" (anyway, the whole movie has trans/GNC themes)".

6: "Possibly implied. Hinted at in the original media, but could be explained as something else". Trans Doofenschmirtz from Phineas and Ferb. "Doof COULD be transmasc, or the whole "raised as a girl" thing could just be for the bit".

5: "Fanon. Never confirmed, but generally accepted by the fandom". Aromantic Alastor from Hazbin Hotel. "While only confirmed to be ace, most of the fandom also sees Alastor as aromantic".

4: "HC with evidence. Headcanons supported by a dedicated fan's detective work". Bisexual Mabel from Gravity Falls. "People have noticed bi flag stickers hidden on Mabel's scrapbooks".

3: "Canon neutrality. Could be true, could be false, but overall makes sense and doesn't contradict the original media". Genderqueer Pleakley from Lilo and Stitch. "Maybe Pleakley is genderqueer, maybe he just wanted to crossdress for the mission, who knows? That's why it's a headcanon."

2: "I made it the fuck up. Based on vibes, has absolutely nothing to do with canon". Bisexual Megamind from Megamind. "No evidence, no explanation, he just has Disaster Bi™ vibes".

1: "Um? No? But go off. Directly contradicts canon (but who cares, that's why it's fun)". Trans Stanley Pines from Gravity Falls. "Even though flashback scenes prove Stan is AMAB, some people HC him as transmasc." End of ID.]

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oracleofsecrets · 6 months ago

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working on the embroidery project I designed: whose fucking idea was this

#maybe. I should have shrunk the design down a bit after all……#working on just the outermost elements and I’ve done like 1 5/6ths of them over 5 days…#out of 12 in that area … so at this rate only a month to complete that section 🫠#but I Thinnkkkkk this is probably the hardest part bc I’m fucking around with a bit of metallic thread #and I found a good use for this cute little notebook I got as a gift :> it’s my project log #which has actually been v helpful as I see things to change as I go #like outlining shapes more carefully and watching where my tail ends go so I’m not trying to pull through prev stitches #it’s going to look so cool I think I hope but I get hungry and tired after a session and I’m like grr I’m sick of looking at this thing

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khrysalisposting · 7 days ago

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marleybone theme rate my stitch event...... im in my anna wintour era i fear

#no mercy. and they better come CORRECT /hj #i take rate my stitch very seriously #wizard101 #val is just rambling

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northernworms · 9 months ago

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CW TRAUMA AND ABLEISM. for awareness purposes

shout out to my junior year bio teacher who screamed at me in the hallway because i drew doodles of leaves in the corners of a poster. she thought the oak leaf (of the many types of leaves) i drew was a marijuana leaf and proceeded to scream at the kid with cptsd and still undergoing trauma at home, in the hallway. without even talking to me first.

my friend was roped into it too since it was a group project, she ran to the principal's office asap after and comforted me the entire time after she got back and until next class where i had her too, bless her soul

bio teacher got reprimanded to hell and back at least lmfao

but she (teacher) had the AUDACITY to say hi to me in the hallway and smile. bruh

i was so lucky that someone was there to help me though. if you see a disabled person being harassed or assaulted like that, PLEASE go help them or stand on their side and give them support i swear to god. it would most likely prevent a medical episode both physically or mentally, or even save their life depending on the situation

#oh yeah and when my swim coach made me do push ups 3 months after my major surgery. when my stitches were still actively healing #and i was still in immense pain. and he thought i should use the gym equipment. ok buddy #same guy who year before made swim laps in the pool end to end 4 times and i told him i couldnt physically do that. almost drowned.#literally had to CRAWL out my heart rate was like 180. and he just stood there and watched and didnt even help me out. no one did #i fucking quit after he expected me to USE GYM EQUIPMENT after a MAJOR SURGERY #context: splenectomy bigger than a football. and he's like “yeah you seem fine. go to the gym”#BRO?????#cw ableism #cw trauma #tw abuse

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falesten-iw · 1 month ago

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Being someone who fights for their family in a world that barely acknowledges Gaza’s suffering? That’s its own special kind of hell. Every time a loved one is injured, whether it’s your partner, your child, or even yourself, the doctors rush in. But don’t expect any miracles. The tools they bring aren’t fresh from pristine, state-of-the-art hospitals. They’re the leftovers of a world that has abandoned Gaza. Surgical plates aren’t delivered by some heroic supply chain. They’re pulled from the bodies of the dead, handed down like cursed heirlooms. Metal meant to heal now carries the weight of death, and infection waits to take what little hope remains.

Doctors are left with impossible decisions: amputate, scavenge through the dead for a plate to salvage, or wait for one that may never come. And the price? These plates cost more than most families in Gaza could ever afford. As resources vanish, everything becomes more expensive. It’s a cruel game with no winners, and we’re all stuck in it.

This is the reality for 26 members of my family, all just trying to stay alive. Two orphaned children. A loved one paralyzed by shrapnel that tore through her body. Her survival hinges on removing infected plates that shouldn’t even exist in her story. Every hour that passes steals more of her future while the world stands still. And yes, you’ve probably seen the video of her injuries shared before. In case you missed it: Link.

This isn’t just about my family. This is Gaza. It’s about a world that watches genocide unfold and calls it politics. A world that stands silent as families like mine scrape by with nothing but scraps, while doctors stitch together lives using whatever’s left behind. But here’s the thing, we won’t let this be the end. Hope is still a choice we make every single day, even when the world seems to have forgotten how to care.

Please help my family in Gaza get a chance to survive. Click the link. Donate if you can and reblog to spread our story.

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead.

Donate on GoFundMe: Link

Donate on Paypal: Link

Please keep the conversion rates in mind when donating through GoFundMe. Every 100 SEK is equivalent to 10 dollars, and 200 SEK equals 20 dollars and so on.

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@b0nkcreat

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navybrat817 · 2 months ago

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why is Thunderbolts Bucky so 🥵🥵🥵 please eat me up

I agree, nonnie!

Eat You Up

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky comes home after a mission and wastes no time making up for the time apart.

Word Count: Over 1.7k

Warnings: Established relationship, oral sex (f. receiving), light dirty talk, mention of cockwarming, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Sorry, lovelies. I was inspired. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“Just landed. Safe and sound. Tough mission, but successful. Missed you. Be home soon.”

You reread the message, your heart rate picking up. Bucky had been away on a mission for a few days and couldn't reach out much. God, you missed him so much. Knowing now that your man would be home soon where he belonged, you let out a breath of relief and smiled.

You rushed to your bedroom and wasted no time getting ready for his arrival. The message was to the point: He was safe and sound, no injuries, and a tough mission meant he’d need some stress relief. Why not let him play with the person he missed most?

Your heart raced when you heard the footsteps outside of the bedroom door, waiting in anticipation in the middle of the bed. In a few moments, you two would reconnect. Being without him in your home for a few days left you longing. You missed his smile. His dry humor. The sight of him reading a book in his favorite chair. You missed all of him.

Bucky slowly pushed the door open, and you lost your breath when he met your gaze. The heat in the room spiked, but you shivered, your body suddenly feeling cold after days without his touch. His massive build took up most of the doorframe and he was still in his black tactical gear, a fingerless glove covering his right hand. Your beautiful soldier looked like he was still on a mission, his shoulders tight and jaw clenched.

And you didn't have a stitch of clothing on, your legs open and ready for him to do whatever he wanted.

His eyes darkened as they scanned your body, his breathing ragged. Whether it was from the mission or the relief of being back with you, the tension thickened in the air. His gaze paused at the juncture between your legs, his breath catching as he took in the sight of you, before he growled, “Look at you. Such a sight to come home to.” Stepping forward, his voice thick with desire, he added, “I could just eat you up.”

The room seemed to shrink as he stepped closer. His eyes never left you as he closed the distance, his gaze filled with adoration and hunger, his presence overwhelming. Everything about him was overwhelming in the best possible way. Your heart raced as he crawled on the bed, but you didn’t flinch. You were ready for him.

“If that's what you need, Sergeant,” you breathed, a teasing challenge in your smile. He exhaled sharply as you slid a hand down your torso, his chest rising and falling faster, as if he was holding himself back from taking you right then and there. “Then you'll get it.”

You could handle whatever he craved... and more. Maybe you'd make him beg for it for once the way you begged so many times before. No. You wouldn't be cruel enough to make him beg. At least not tonight. Not when you both needed it.

“Trying to touch what’s mine?” He grabbed your wrist before your fingers could reach home, your skin warm under his gentle grip. He was one of the most powerful men you knew, someone with enough strength to rip you in half if he wished, but he would never use his strength to hurt you. “You miss me?” The ache in his voice was more than desire. It was longing.

“I won't touch. It’s all yours.” Your chest tightened when he released your wrist, your eyes suddenly burning with unshed tears, your hands itching to feel his body and know for certain he was really there with you. “I always miss you when you're gone.”

You didn't like eating meals alone now since you had come to expect easy and tough conversations as the two of you moved around the kitchen and sat at the table. You enjoyed exploring your surroundings together, but craved nights cuddled up together on the couch as the television played in the background. Building a home with the ex-assassin was a dream come true.

He hovered over you and tilted your chin, giving you a second to take a breath, before he leaned down and claimed your mouth in a feverish kiss. The ferocity made you gasp, your arms wrapping around him to hold him close. Your nipples brushed against his shirt as you deepened the kiss, desperate and needy. The kiss was a promise, expressing everything you wanted to say before the night was over.

That you loved him, that he was all you needed, that your house was a home because he was back with you.

His hair fell in his face as he broke the kiss and moved his gloved hand between your legs. You mewled when he teased your slit, his stare as seductive as his touch. You rolled your hips up, seeking out more friction, wanting him to make good on his promise to eat you up.

“I missed you,” he whispered, gliding down your body with the grace of a large cat. The muscles in his back rippled as his shoulders spread you open for him, your hands gripping the sheets to keep you from grinding against his face. “And I missed this. Your taste. Your smell. Your sounds.”

You whimpered when his nose brushed your clit. “Bucky, please,” you begged, his hands taking hold of your hips and digging in. And here you thought neither of you would beg tonight.

But Bucky Barnes wasn't a heartless man. He showed mercy when he had to, which was why he took pity and licked a stripe up your pussy with a groan. Flames spread along your body as you threw your head back and moved your hands to grip his hair. He ate pussy skillfully, effortlessly, and all you could do was hold on and ride out the waves of ecstasy.

“Good girl. So beautiful. And all mine,” he murmured before he shoved his tongue inside your hole, your eyes rolling back and mouth parting. Your super soldier had his head buried between your legs like he never wanted to leave.

“I… Oh, fuck!” you cried, his gloved hand reaching up to toy with your breast. His fingers teased your nipple, his metal thumb rubbing your clit, and you couldn't stop yourself from pushing your hips closer. You had no shame in humping his face as his tongue moved along your sensitive walls, his beard leaving the most delicious burn with each movement.

And if you smothered your lover with your cunt tonight, he’d proudly saunter up to the gates of whatever heaven you sent him to with a smile.

He pulled his tongue out, his mouth sucking on the swollen bundle of nerves as your thighs trembled. You lifted your head high enough to catch the feral look in his eyes. Pleasure climbed within you so quickly it left you dizzy. “Such a pretty pussy. Should write poems about it.”

“Oh, God,” you moaned, your head falling back again, heat filling your body.

“My name,” he growled, pushing two metal fingers into your wetness and pumping fast, knowing you wouldn't last much longer. You were right on the edge, ready to fall. He’d be there to catch you. “Say my name when you come.”

You didn't say his name as his tongue entered you once more. You shouted it, chanted it like a prayer, and soaked his mouth with your juices. He moaned as you fluttered around his tongue, and he continued to lap at you, trying to drink down every drop. He swept you up in waves of bliss and you were lucky you didn't drown.

Sparks still burst behind your eyes as he sat back to admire his work, making you clench around nothing as he licked his lips. You held out your arms with a whine, needing him close once again as you came back to yourself. He stretched out on top of you and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, your essence lingering on his. Your hands roamed where they could reach and it sent a thrill through you when he moaned.

“Hi,” he whispered after a moment, smiling and making your heart pound all over again.

“Hi,” you sighed, shutting your eyes and smiling, too, when he kissed each eyelid. You were lucky enough to witness this soft side of him, trusted enough for him to be vulnerable.

“You okay?” He kissed your forehead this time.

“Better than okay. You’re home,” you replied, breathing him in before you opened your eyes. Your heart stopped momentarily under his soft gaze. “Are you okay?”

He was the one out there fighting to keep the world safe. Not only that, he still fought the demons of his past from time to time. It wasn't fair, but you were there to help as you could.

“I’m good, doll. I’m home. Everything I need is right here,” he said, rocking his hips. You moaned when you felt how hard he was through his pants. He deserved to feel good. “And we have some lost time to make up for, so no falling asleep on me.”

“Lost time? It was only a few days,” you teased, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear when he huffed.

“A few days too many,” he said, not teasing at all as he leaned up to unbuckle his belt. “Drives me crazy being apart from you.” He would never leave you if he didn't have to.

“I know. I was just teasing. We can make up for every second you were away,” you assured him, knowing he wasn't done with you tonight by a long shot. You were fine with that since you wanted him just as badly as he wanted you. “Bucky?”

He paused before he could push his pants down. “Yeah, doll?”

You traced a heart on his forehead, wanting to erase the pain he endured and replace it with only good things. “I love you.”

He blinked the mist from his eyes and leaned down, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you, too.”

When you finally fell asleep the following morning with his cock buried deep inside you, he whispered again that he loved you and that he couldn't wait to eat you up all over again once you woke up.

That's two back-to-back Bucky fics in a little over 29 hours from me with him being in love and not afraid to eat you like his last meal. 😂 Are you lovelies sick of me by now? I hope not. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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racefortheironthrone · 2 years ago

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Nobody is making anyone go into scriptwriting. No one is born in a Netflix company town where their dad takes them into the script mines at age 12. Fuck writers who want to get paid more than once for the same job. They should only get residuals AFTER all the people who do REAL WORK, like construction, grips, costume, makeup & animators etc. Most of them are much better at their jobs than writers especially for streaming services, and they are what screenwriters can lean on & novelists can't.

People need to realize that the unions for white collar people like WGA or SIEU or NEA (public sector unions are why cops who kill the people they were supposed to serve & protect remain employed get pensions) is not the AFL-CIO or any other historical union fighting for the lives of the people who built the country's industry and made it run, any more than the NRA are the Minutemen of 1775 New England.

First, go fuck yourself, you fucking scab. No, seriously - you don't come to my blog and spout off about what workers deserve unions and decent pay and what ones don't, like it's your fucking decision. The intellectual labor that writers perform is just as real as any other work done on a film set - "all who labor by hand or brain" is the inherent logic of industrial unionism for a reason.

Second, writers aren't asking to get paid more than once: residuals are deferred pay, you absolute moron. In Hollywood, whether it's writers or actors or voice talent or whatever, you get a small fraction up front - it's usually an ok check, depending on the union's day rates and so forth, but you can't make a living off stitching these together - and then most of your pay comes from monthly royalty checks that provide you with the income you need to live off when you're between jobs.

The problem is that, historically in Hollywood, residuals have been structured with a very long "tail" - the payments start out relatively low and then get more generous over time as the show has more seasons and (presumably) goes into syndication. This doesn't work with streaming's new business model, where increasingly shows are getting 2-3 seasons max and streaming services have become increasingly quick to not just cancel shows but yank them off their servers in order to avoid paying residuals.

So what WGA writers are fighting for is a system that ensures writers (but also actors and other creative workers, because the unions pattern bargain) get a fair share of the show's revenue, even if the show is only given 2-3 seasons.

Third, the U.S labor movement would not exist today if it wasn't for white collar workers and public sector workers. About half of the U.S labor movement - 7 million workers - is public sector, and those workers are overwhelmingly women of color, mostly working as either teachers or postal workers. Likewise, about half the U.S labor movement is made up of white collar workers, and we're graduate students and adjuncts and lab researchers, teachers and social workers, administrators and IT departments.

I'm both public sector and white collar, and I'm a member of an NEA union. I'm an adjunct professor who earns $6,000 a course and it's my job to get working adults with jobs and families who've never gone to college or who've been out of higher ed for a decade to graduate with a bachelor's or a master's. If you don't think that's real work, you're free to research and write all the lectures and powerpoints, deliver those in an entertaining and educational fashion, answer a flood of questions from students who need help navigating academia, and then grade all the midterms and finals and research papers.

#labor #wga strike #unions

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steveseddie · 1 month ago

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‘H’

written for @steddieholidaydrabbles | prompt: gift | rating: t | wc: 996 | tags: steve is a sweetheart, his love language is gift giving, the return of the battle vest

read on ao3

When everyone starts gathering their Secret Santa gifts so they can go home, Steve asks Eddie to stick around.

“I have a gift for you.”

Eddie’s eyebrows knit together. “But I’m not your Secret Santa.”

Steve already gave Will a bunch of art supplies and his own Members Only jacket, and Eddie himself got the coolest rings and heavy metal tapes from Max. He didn’t expect to get anything else tonight.

“Doesn’t matter,” Steve shrugs. “Will you stay?”

Eddie doesn’t even try to say no to Steve’s fluttery eyelashes. “Of course, Stevie.”

While everyone piles into Nancy and Jonathan’s cars, Eddie lingers by the door, waving his friends goodbye.

After seeing everyone off, Steve comes back, smiling when he sees Eddie. “So the gift is in my room–”

“Steve.” Eddie grabs his arm before he starts guiding them upstairs. “You didn’t have to buy me anything. I didn’t buy you anything. I blew through my weed money to get Nancy that curling iron for Secret Santa–”

“Eddie, it’s okay. Besides, I didn’t actually buy it–”

Eddie narrows his eyes. “You made me something?”

Steve purses his lips. “Not exactly.”

Before Eddie can ask what he means, Steve grabs his hand and drags him towards his room.

He tells Eddie to sit on the bed while he goes to his closet. Eddie arches his neck impatiently but he only catches a glimpse of denim before Steve hides the gift behind his back.

“So much secrecy, Stevie.”

Steve fidgets as he approaches. “So, uh, remember when we were in the Upside Down–”

“Vividly.”

“After I got hurt, uh, you gave me your vest-”

“Which you never returned.”

“Yeah, well,” Steve says, finally showing Eddie what’s behind his back. “Now I am.”

Eddie gasps because in Steve’s hands is Eddie’s battle vest.

“I thought it was ruined,” he says, his eyebrows shooting up his face. He reaches for it, carefully touching the familiar fabric.

“It was, that’s why it took me months to get the blood and the goo out and then I had to fix the rips-”

Eddie blinks at him. “You’ve been working on this for months?”

Steve bites his lip and nods. “Uh, yeah. It’s not perfect. I had to wash it like, a bunch of times and some of the patches came off so I had to sew them back on, and as hard as Nancy tried to teach me I didn’t do a particularly great job–”

“Steve–”

“But Dustin told me how much you worked on it and I know that Wayne got you some of the patches so I tried really hard–”

“Steve!” Eddie says, louder so that Steve stops rambling.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” Eddie says, watching as Steve sighs in relief. “Shit, sweetheart, I mean it. This is the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“You’re welcome, Eds,” Steve says, ducking his head with a shy smile.

Before Eddie can do something stupid like kiss it off his face, he shrugs the vest on and walks over to Steve’s mirror, smiling at the familiar picture he sees there.

He twirls a few times like a little girl showing off a new dress and hears Steve chuckle behind him.

On his third twirl, something on his vest catches his eye. Something new.

He moves closer to the mirror, blinking repeatedly as if waiting for the green ‘H’ to disappear but it stays stitched to the denim, next to a Metallica patch.

“Steve?” Eddie asks, tracing it with his finger. “What’s this?

He catches Steve’s eye in the mirror. He’s looking at Eddie like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh–”

“Did you–”

“Sew the ‘H’ from my letterman jacket onto your vest?” He finishes, hanging a hand from his neck. “Yeah, I did.”

“Your basketball letterman jacket?” Eddie asks, turning around, his jaw dropping a little.

Steve’s face pulls into a wince. “Yeah. And before you go on a rant about your hatred for sports, I know, okay? But I guess I wanted your vest to have a little part of me–”

“Other than your blood?”

“Hey, I washed all my blood off it,” Steve says with a scoff. “Look, if you hate it you can just rip it off. I told you I didn’t do a great job stitching it on.”

“I don’t hate it,” Eddie says, surprising himself. He should be appalled by the idea of having anything related to Hawkins High or basketball on his vest, but he can’t when it’s also related to Steve. “Just– why?”

“I thought it would be easier to get you to wear that than my letterman jacket.”

Eddie freezes. “Why would you want me to wear your letterman jacket?”

A blush creeps onto Steve’s cheeks. “You know why.”

“I most certainly do not,” Eddie says with a voice that is an octave higher. The only reason why he’s seen people wear someone’s letterman jacket is if they’re dating that person, but Steve can’t possibly mean–

“That’s exactly what I mean,” Steve says and oh, Eddie must have said that out loud.

“You– you want me to date you?” he stammers out.

When Steve nods, Eddie nearly passes out. “Holy shit.”

“Do you want that? I feel like we’ve been dancing around it for a while with the flirting and the touching, but if I’m reading this wrong–”

“You’re not!” Eddie blurts out a little too loudly. “Of course I want that.”

Steve’s smile is blinding and it makes butterflies erupt in Eddie’s chest. “Good because I worked really hard on that vest and I tore up my letterman jacket-”

Eddie chuckles. “You didn’t need to do all that–”

“I really wanted to give you something,” Steve says with a shrug.

Eddie gets an idea. “Well, I want to give you something too,” he says, “right now, actually.”

“Eds, you don’t have to,” Steve says with a pout.

“Shut up,” Eddie says, tugging him close by his sweater and kissing the pout off his face.

#steddie #steddie fic #steddieholidaydrabbles #stranger things #stranger things fic #listen i think steve would do cheesy things like this and eddie would LOVE them #steve harrington #eddie munson #monse writes

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