#regardless of assholery

[citrusinicake]

ppl who dont understand loving a character while also hating them fascinate me, clearly youve never stanned a complete and absolute dickhead before

[ink-the-artist]

i just wanted to let you know the person who replied to your post claiming you're "anti russian" is genuinely just dealing with psychosis at the moment. afaik they're safe, but don't be surprised if they say things to you that have a sort of accusatory and nonsensical nature.

Not entirely sure where you read that but you might be right bc holy shit

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

OPENASKBOX TIME HERE ARE THE GROUND RULES

1) Funny- the request needs to be humorous, memes usually the most popular but dnd in jokes and other shitpostery is welcome. i abide by the MBMBAM NO BUMMERS rule - there are plenty of sad/deep/beautiful calligraphers out there who’d be happy to work with yall, but this isn’t that sort of channel

2) Length - aim for no more than 75 characters a request, my cue cards are only so big so I can only fit so much on each one and still not look like garbage. There is a little leeway but if you send me smth with like 120 characters it aint getting written

3) Amount of Requests - I am trying to be fair but i am one person running almost the ENTIRE thing, logistics, tech, etc, I have twitch mods and a roommate for retrieving things and that's it. In order to be fair, please restrict yourselves to 3 requests per person to let everyone have a shot, if you send in more i will ctrl-f your username and pick my favourites

4) Content - I will not do anything I consider under the umbrella of general assholery - this includes racial slurs, edgelord bullshit, exclusionist jackassery etc. Please be kind to each other. Please let me know if I’ve taken a request that is some incredibly obscure piece of assholery, someone once tried to slip a really obscure antisemetic piece of slang by me once

5) Repeats - I keyword tag EVERY SINGLE piece i’ve ever done on this blog, if you think I might have written smth already but aren’t sure, the /search/[keyword] is your friend, check if i’ve done your request before

the proper inbox is theshitpostcalligrapher.tumblr.com/ask , not a dm or submission to the blog. I’ll close submissions too so people don’t get the boxes confused. DM me for any actual clarifications, kind words, etc so they don’t get swallowed up by the behemoth of my askbox for months, but I will probably NOT see my tumblr dms until the event is OVER. If you need to flag me down RIGHT AWAY you're GOING to have to go over to twitch chat ask there.

the BEST CHANCE of getting it written live today is to send in your requests with 3 different asks within the first hour or so of the stream going live. after the first hour, it's not gonna matter if it's in one or three asks cuz I'll be scheduling them out in advance and everything that follows the rules above will get written eventually

If you want to jump the ENTIRE queue and get your card done immediately, there are ways to donate on the twitch stream to get your request done with an ink of your choice. You can still submit 3 free requests in addition to what you pay for.

I’ll be streaming the entire time the askbox is open on twitch @ miathecalligrapher, trying to get as many of these done today as possible live. Once 10PM EST hits, the askbox will close but if you get your request into the askbox by then, it will be done eventually as I always have 4 cards up per day.

Here’s the link to my twitch, we’ll start a little after 2 o’clock EST.

Here is a direct donation link to my streamlabs, it works like a ko-fi but I’ve got it set to give me alerts on my twitch so I can see and thank you straightaway for supporting my takeout order

If you would like to receive the card you buy/request for, physically in the mail, here is the shop link:

feel free to dm me first to discuss discounting if you'd like multiple of your cards in a bundle

if you subscribe to my channel on a regular basis, I'll keep your cards back and send them out periodically regardless

there'll be 2 donation goals - one as a forty dollar threshold for ordering food, and the other one will be set at $160 since that's ABOUT the equivalent of living wage for the amount of time I'll be streaming.

[elliespuns]

I love how in the game, Ellie would never disrespect Joel as an adult figure or be hostile to him. Not even if she's angry and wants to speak her peace.

Do y'all remember the scene before Bill when Ellie and Joel get out of the subway and Joel sits down and is nothing but mean to Ellie when she brings up Tess? "This is how it's gonna play out." He says, and the girl just stands there and listens because, yes, she's her own person and he's being unreasonably unfair, but also, he's an adult, and he's taking care of her now. She's gonna listen to whatever he has to say.

You can see how much Ellie respects this man by the way she reacts to him. Because although she clearly wants to tell him to stop being a dick, she just takes a breath, nods, and agrees with whatever he says because she knows better. Because she understands this man's sorrow regardless of what happened with Tess.

All Ellie does here is try to be nice and supportive. She just wants to tell him she's sorry and how guilty she feels, and instead of letting her talk, he brushes her off as if she deserved this kind of behavior from him—she didn't ask for any of this. He's being an ass.

Yet, Ellie is still so meek. The way her eyes dart to her shoes because she doesn't like being bossed around but knows she has to let this one slide this time, "What you say goes." She says, and just accepts his assholery. Because she's a kid and he's an adult and she respects it. She respects him.

[sashaisready]

Feel The Burn: Chapter 1

Lance Tucker x Reader | Destroyer!Chris x Reader

Series Masterlist

Your casual situationship with notorious flirt Lance Tucker comes to a shocking head at a party, fortunately the mysterious stranger you meet that same night is more than happy to help take your mind off it.

Wordcount: Approx 4.3k

Me again! I've never written for Lance but felt inspired by the wonderful @nickfowlerrr and her recent Lance fic (it's great, go check it out!) Expecting lots of angst, smut and drama cos you know I love that. Warnings for Lance being a dickwad. Also my first Destroyer!Chris attempt so let's see how we go. As always - reblogs and comments mean the world!

🥇

He’d snuck out before you had woken up.

The little shit.

You knew it shouldn’t be a surprise…but it still stung regardless.

You weren’t stupid. You knew your ‘arrangement’ with Lance was a casual one – no labels, no expectations, no exclusivity. You’d both been transparent about that, and you weren’t exactly looking to lock into anything serious at the moment – between work, friends, family and general surviving, you only really had time and headspace for fun and stress release.

Lance was the perfect candidate for that. Between his personal trainer role job and coaching on the side, he was just as busy as you were. He was also fun and wanted to keep things light, he didn’t put demands on your time and didn’t ask for more than you were willing to give.

He was also an asshole. Which helped keep the boundaries and lines clear.

You’d met at a bar a few months prior. He’d sent over a cocktail via the bartender, and you were rolling your eyes at the cheesy gesture from the guy who appeared to be wearing what looked like a bright red Olympics jacket at the dive bar. But then he came over, and you were surprised at how disarming his stupid smile was, and how easily he made your friends laugh. And then suddenly you were laughing along with them.

He was cute, you’d give him that. Big blue eyes swimming with mischief, a permanent smirk tattooed across his face. Carefully coiffed hazelnut hair that you just instinctively knew had to be perfect before he left the house.

A walking red flag.

Literally too, with that jacket.

You ended up chatting deep into the evening, your friends moving onto the club while you chose to stay with your new buddy. You found out he was a former Olympic gold winning gymnast turned personal trainer and gymnastics coach, which sounded so fake that you laughed out loud at the outrageous claim – until he smugly made you google him on your phone…

…Touché.

Your job wasn’t quite as impressive, but he did seem interested in the fact you owned your own coffee shop downtown. He’s big into the whole self-made thing.

He was cocky and arrogant; you rolled your eyes constantly and groaned at all his jokes all evening. He was everything you’d normally avoid in a man, yet you were strangely captivated by him. There seemed to be a self-awareness to him that intrigued you, as if he knew how awful he was and leaned into it with a knowing wink. At least he was upfront about his assholery, so many men you knew hid theirs until you’d fallen into the deep.

Of course you ended up back at his place, practically falling through the door as he kissed you feverishly, his hands all over you as if he couldn’t get enough – tugging your clothes off before he’d even closed the front door behind him. He spread you out across his couch and ate you out like a starving man, you were shocked at how quickly and how hard he made you come. Men like him often only talked the talk, so you were genuinely caught off guard that he could also walk the walk.

You’d giggled at the utter ridiculousness of the tattoo across his crotch after he’d removed his boxers, the fuzzy haze from your orgasm giving way to clarity as the ludicrous medal image snapped everything back to focus. What the fuck were you doing here??

But he was unperturbed, laughing along with you and shrugging off your reaction – surely, he must be the cockiest man on the planet. “I earned it,” he grinned wickedly, pulling you into him.

His touch was dizzying. He knew exactly how to hold you, how to feel you, how to push you to let go. You were initially conscious of your softer body compared to his rock-hard abs, you didn’t exactly have a gymnast body yourself - but he looked at you unashamedly – circling every inch, tracing every curve. He’d eyed you hungrily, helping himself to you as if you were the tastiest buffet he’d ever had. If you covered your tummy with your hand he’d rip it away, leaving no part of you hidden from him.

It was intoxicating.

And god, the stamina. The flexibility. You lost count of the positions he’d twist you into, effortlessly coaxing your figure into shapes and angles you didn’t even know you were capable of. Never too far, never leaving you uncomfortable for long – or you’d just be too euphoric to notice. Something just clicked with the two of you physically, your bodies fit together as if they’d been designed that way. If your body was a song, he hit every note.

You’d never experienced anything like it.

That was a few months ago and you were unable to fully disentangle yourself from him. What you had intended to be a one-night thing had spread into many nights. Texts. Filthy FaceTime calls. Meeting each other after nights out with respective friends. One of his buddies even began dating one of yours, so you find yourself in the same spots more and more regularly. You were very different people – he was loud and brash, you were more shy and reserved. He would talk the ear off anyone who’d chat to him, you’d quietly listen and observe the conversation. Nobody would have ever put you two together, and your friends were slightly baffled by the arrangement – but they just wanted you to enjoy yourself.

Every time you said you’d wean yourself off him, he’d pop up on your phone and it would be back to square one again.

You knew he was toxic, you knew he was bad, but you couldn’t help yourself. Your brain switched off when you were with him, no anxiety, no insecurities – just enjoying the moment, lost in your pleasure. Nobody had ever made your feel like that in the bedroom, or outside of it either, he was an addiction your body couldn’t curb. He was the bag of candy you knew was in the cupboard and couldn’t resist sneaking the occasional piece.

…You just had to be careful not to binge the whole thing.

All you’d ever asked from him was respect. You may have just been casual, but you wanted to be treated decently – no degradation or meanness unless you’d specifically requested for it in bed (and sometimes you had), no ditching once you’d agreed to meet, no asking anything too personal about each other’s lives. Sure, you were always mouthing off to each other, but it was infused with fun and banter – never cruel, never unkind.

Just because this was casual didn’t mean you should treat each other like dirt.

Sometimes you stayed over at each other’s places, you both enjoyed a post-coital cuddle – even if neither of you had ever said it aloud. You often ended up sleeping on his chest, hearing his breathing deepen as he absent-mindedly played with your hair. Or you’d shower together, and he’d carefully clean you up, the one time the wise cracks were muted as he washed your body and stood with you under the water, holding you against him. Sometimes you’d just stay up late talking, laughing into the night. As wrong as he was for you, he was also easy to be around. You didn’t need to put on a show or performance for him, maybe because you had never really felt the need to impress him. It took the pressure off.

If you didn’t know any better, the altogether picture might look like something resembling tenderness (but you did know better).

Leaning over this morning and seeing him gone felt like a surprising shot in the gut.

He knew full well you were a light sleeper, he’d accidentally woken you up numerous times at your many sleepovers during late-night bathroom trips or bumping against you after rolling over. He was very used to the angry pillow thrown in his direction as you groaned at the interruption and snuggled back into the sheets or allowed him to tug you back into his arms.

But this morning…He must’ve put his training to good use and crawled out of bed like Tom Cruise in Mission Impossible, carefully dodging the creaky floorboards in your bedroom like lasers and collecting his clothes at the same volume as a gnat's hiccup.

You frowned, not liking that.

It’s not like you wanted him to hang around. You had to go to the shop anyway. But normally he slept in with you, sometimes getting up before you to make you both coffee, or on rare occasions getting something started for breakfast. Ever the committed coach and former athlete, he often liked a detailed ‘debrief’ of the previous night’s performances – with focus on high points, and areas to develop and work on. Yes, really. He took it very seriously and wanted to be top of his game. Which only really benefited you in the long run, as farcical as the whole ritual was.

You knew his schedule, you knew he didn’t have any sessions booked at this time. Him sneaking off just felt…wrong. Rude, somehow. Like he’d got what he needed from you so felt no need to keep up niceties or courtesy, even though that’s always how this thing had worked.

You glanced at your phone. A message from Kat but nothing else. You checked your text thread with Lance – nothing except the ‘you up, Cupcake? 🧁’ text and selfie he’d sent you last night before you’d arranged for him to come by. Hmm.

Fine. Whatever. Unusual, but shit happens – maybe it was just a one-off. You shrugged it off, despite the faint pang of anxiety it left in your stomach.

You fired off a quick text to him, “nice disappearing act, Tucker. You must’ve pulled a muscle with all that stealth”.

You watched the screen and saw that immediately the little bubbles appeared to show he was typing. They hovered for a few seconds, then disappeared, then started again…only to disappear once more. Huh. Weird. Not like him to ignore a jibe like that. Oh well. Maybe he was in the middle of something.

You put it to the back of your mind and got ready for work, heading over to the coffee shop. Marina had opened that morning so you joined her behind the register, greeting her cheerily and asking about her day so far. You did a quick scan of the shop – a few regulars had piled in, but it wasn’t too busy yet. You threw yourself into your normal tasks – helping with customers, wiping down tables, checking inventory, doing some accounts in the back office. All very normal. You soon forgot about Lance and the unusual start to the morning, getting into full work mode. Filter and Foam Café was your baby, your life. It hadn’t been easy to get the business up and running, you started out with a second-hand espresso machine and a cart, then built your customer base brick by brick until you could eventually afford to lease a premises and hire a small team. It was the result of endless long hours and hard graft, but it had paid off. Maybe your business degree had been worth the money, after all.

You felt at home here with your regulars and your staff, life was hard for many, and you were never going to cure cancer or broker world peace – but if you could brighten someone’s day with a decent cup of coffee and a nice pastry, that was something at least. There were lesser contributions to life.

You took a break and checked your phone. Nothing from Lance, unusually, but you replied to Kat’s message from this morning. She was reminding you about her party at the weekend, asking you to bring a bottle. Kat was dating Lance’s friend, Matt, and they were throwing their first joint-party at their new place together. It was cute.

If all else failed, you could berate Lance for his radio silence when you got to the party.

The week rolled on. Still no word from Lance, which was strange as he normally replied to your messages quickly, but it also wasn’t unusual for one/both of you to vanish for a little while if you had a lot going on. You weren’t worried, and you weren’t the type to be obsessively checking your phone. A tiny voice at the back of your head told you that something felt off, but you easily smothered it. The whole point of your arrangement with Lance was to avoid stress and drama, so you wouldn’t entertain anything else.

Friday night came around. Marina was closing which meant you could leave the shop early to go get ready. You settled on a black dress you were fond of, not too showy, not too frumpy, but hugged your figure nicely. You threw on a pair of comfortable heels and did your hair and make-up how you liked, grabbing a taxi to Kat’s place with the requested bottle and feeling excited about spending some time with your friends – even if parties weren’t your scene.

As you walked in the party was in full swing. Kat rushed over to you excitedly and thrust a cocktail in your hand as she gabbled about the new place – giving you a mini tour. Matt chimed in where he could and you grinned at their dynamic – Kat the whirlwind of chaos, Matt the calming breeze. It worked. It was charming to witness, they’d moved fast - but anyone could see how much they meant to each other. Kat and Matt, even their names worked together.

As you moved through the house with them you recognised most of the faces dotted throughout the party, waving and promising to catch up with some of them after you had finished the home tour. You noted you hadn’t seen Lance, but no doubt he would be making himself known sooner or later.

An hour later you were perching on the arm of the sofa, giggling along with Kat as she regaled Matt and some of your friends with a notorious anecdote from your college days.

“I just can’t believe you did it!” Kat squealed with laughter as she playfully knocked your arm, “and here was me thinking I was brave!”

“Well in my defence, he did cheat on one of our best friends…and it was unlucky for him that I still had all that chicken feed after the farm volunteering day,” you grinned, slightly awkwardly as you’re not always comfortable holding court like this. “But hey, it wasn’t like he couldn’t get the bird crap off of his car after they’d finished eating…”

The group all laughed raucously but your eyes were drawn to someone watching you from across the living room. You sipped from your glass as Lance observed you carefully. His expression was strangely unreadable, not giving you the knowing grin he usually flashed when you locked eyes. He wore dark jeans and a nice navy button-down, no sign of the ubiquitous Team USA jackets this evening.

He made his way over to the group you were talking to, Matt greeted him enthusiastically and they did their buddy fist bump thing they often did. He said hello to the other members of the gathering then gave you a curt nod.

“Cupcake”.

“Tuck”, you responded with your own nod.

The group exchanged knowing glances. Your friends were very aware of the unconventional nature of yours and Lance’s ‘friendship’.

He joins in the conversation effortlessly, much easier than you, flowing and diving in with jokes like he’d been standing there all evening. When separate discussions broke off and formed within smaller groups, you took the opportunity to freshen your drink in the kitchen.

“What’s up with you two?” someone hissed.

You looked up from your glass as Kat slithered around the door, checking over her shoulder to ensure you were alone.

“What? With who?” you wrinkled your nose.

“Don’t play dumb! You and Lance! What’s the latest?” your friend pestered, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

You laughed, “oh, stop. Nothing. You know it’s just a physical thing…”

“Yeah, whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Having your weird silent conversations with your eyes. When are you going to wake up and realise that you’re basically dating at this point??”

You huffed in protest but she persisted.

“I’m serious, babe, you know Matt said recently that he hasn’t seen Lance with any other girls for a while now…”

You were surprised by that. You and Lance had never been exclusive, but also had the manners not to discuss anyone else with each other. You’d had the occasional date but nothing much, and based on his aggressive flirting had just assumed he had a steady roster of women in his life (although sometimes you weren’t sure how he’d fit them in based on how frequently you saw him).

But you shook it off. You weren’t naïve enough to think someone as greedy as Lance Tucker would be satisfied with only one girl in his life.

You scoffed in response, “oh come on Kat. It’s not like that…it’s just fun. Besides, he snuck out of my apartment earlier this week and then didn’t respond to my text. Hardly boyfriend behaviour…”

“What? That little…want me to beat his ass?”

“I’d love to see that. But no, I’m good. Thank-you,” you chuckled, Kat was 5’1” – any ass kicking she did would be a sight to see. But you knew full well she could handle it, if she wanted to badly enough.

“I’m not letting him treat you like shit…you know that…” she warned as she squeezed your shoulders.

“I do, Kat,” you smiled, “but you know I’m not letting him do that, either”.

She nodded and grimaced, but that seemed to put her mind at rest.

As if summoned, Lance entered the kitchen a second later, making his way over to the rows of bottles to make himself a drink. Kat was being called back into the living room by a loudly drunk partygoer, she rushed out and shrieked an apology to you as she flew out of the door.

“Fuck, Marcy, not the vase!” you heard her cry out as she vanished.

You laughed at her disarray and finished pouring your own drink.

“So, what’s up with you, Tuck?” you asked Lance as you took a sip.

You watched as he made his gin and slimline tonic – always health-conscious, of course.

He shrugged, “what? Nothing. I’m good,” he said blankly without looking up.

“Right…well why did you sneak out the other day? That’s not like you,” you asked casually, “you’d never normally miss a debrief, and sneaking isn’t really your thing,” you laughed good-naturedly, “louder and prouder, in my experience”.

He shrugged again, “I had to run. Sorry”.

His voice was flat, with none of his usual vigour or mirth. It was…weird.

“Oh, okay. Well…you could’ve said bye. But no biggie. I just thought it was weird you didn’t text me back, so thought I’d check you were okay. All good? Gymnast emergency?” you joked.

“Nope,” he shot back – his tone contained none of the lightness that yours did. “And would you just get off my back, already?”

“Jesus, okay,” you frowned, surprised at his reaction. This wasn’t like him at all. “I was just playing…it wasn’t like you-”.

Suddenly he slammed his glass down, it rattled as it hit the counter, “Fucking christ – just drop it, would ya? Needling away at me…I’m not your fucking boyfriend, alright?”

You flinched, completely caught off guard by his vitriol. This wasn’t Lance, this wasn’t the usual dynamic, normally you bantered back and forth and teased each other. He was often crass, but never…mean.

You didn’t speak for a moment, scrambling for words as your brain tried to compute what had just happened.

“I didn’t say you were…” you mumbled.

“Do this, do that, let’s have coffee, don’t sneak out, blah blah blah. I mean what, are you my fucking wife or something?” he spat venomously.

He looked up at you with anger in his eyes, a look you’d never seen in them before.

“No…Lance, I’m just messing around…”

“Are you? Because it feels like you’re suffocating me here”.

You scoffed in disbelief, “what? How? Because I asked you why you snuck out of my apartment?! Because it’s something you’ve never done before. And then I dared to texted you once about it? Hardly a fucking marriage proposal!”

“I don’t need to tell you where I am every fuckin’ minute of the day…”

“I’m not asking you to, fuck! I just think it’s shitty to sneak out like that. You could’ve just told me you were going! Or sent a text or something, damn! It’s pretty basic decency! Like having to acknowledge me before you leave is that strenuous…”

Both of you were yelling now, fortunately drowned out by the blaring music from the living room, the party obliviously continuing in full swing as you two of you exchanged barbs across the kitchen.

After some time going around in circles, he eventually sighed, taking a deep breath as he placed his palms flat on the kitchen counter. His voice now lowered.

“Look…I thought we were on the same page about this. It’s just fun…just messing around. We aren’t a thing, you and me”.

“I know,” you scowled. “I’m very aware. But I don’t think it’s unreasonable to ask that you treat me with a degree of respect…We can have fun and be casual without contempt for each other. Sneaking out and then ignoring me…then acting like I’m the asshole for bringing it up…that’s just…”

“All of it…the coffee…the showers…the sleepovers. It’s just gone a little too far,” he sighed. “Cupcake I…”

You blinked at him, bewildered.

He continued, his voice was soft, as if approaching you like you were a frightened deer, “you’re a great fuck, alright? But that’s it. I can get it from 10 other girls in my phone, if I want. You’re cute, you’re funny, but you’re also a means to an end. You get my dick wet, and you’re good at it. Damn good. You make me so hard I can’t see straight. But I also don’t need you interrogating me about my business. Got it?”

You were shocked by his reaction and the callousness of his words…and the pang of hurt that radiated in your chest.

But more so you were angry. Angry at how he’d blown up out of nowhere, angry at his cavalier approach to all of this, angry at his patronising tone, angry at him for trying to talk you down like you were some kind of idiot. Acting as if he could say whatever he liked as long as he did it in a soothing tone. Like you were some kind of besotted lovesick pup he pitied and needed to let down gently.

Asshole.

You glowered at him so hard he actually leaned back a little, the arrogance in his eyes suddenly dulling in response.

“Cupcake, look, I’m sorry…that was-” he started, moving towards you.

“Oh save it, Lance!” you shot back furiously, shoving him away as he advanced towards you.

“Cupcake…I’m sorry-”

“And don’t call me that!”

“Okay, sorry, look, I was out of line…really…” he said gently.

Great. Pity. That was somehow worse.

You wished you had some witty retort for him, some clever insult to stop him in his tracks and put him in his place. But your rage paralysed any potential wit you may have been capable of.

“Tell it to one of the other 10 girls in your phone. Fuck this…and fuck you too!” you told him through gritted teeth.

That would have to do.

You downed your drink and stormed out of the kitchen. He was hot on your heels, telling you not to be like this and just to take a second but you could barely hear him over your own anger. You did a quick scan of the room but couldn’t see Kat, doing your best to ignore the stares from other partygoers as your newly found shadow tried to stop you from leaving. Some of your other friends were calling your name but you couldn’t bear to speak to anyone.

“Cupcake…hey, wait up,” Lance pleaded, cupping your shoulder.

“Just…leave me alone,” you hissed and wriggled his arm off you. You hope he didn't notice the slight crack in your voice.

He relented, letting out a low exhale and sheepishly shoving his hands in his pockets. You turned away from him, quickly grabbing your coat from the large pile in the hallway, leaving the house as fast as your feet could carry you.

You were trembling as the cold outside air hit you, not quite sure what had just happened. Your face felt hot and flushed with humiliation as you stood uselessly on the porch.

You somehow managed to quickly fire off an apology text to Kat saying you’d left. No doubt she’d be blowing up your phone imminently after the partygoers filled her in on all the drama. You suddenly felt immense guilt for making her big night all about you.

“Motherfucker!” you said aloud into the night.

“What did I do?” replied a smooth voice.

You flinched, confused until a man stepped out from the front of the house. He was smoking out here, initially hidden from your view as he must’ve been leaning against the wall just out of sight. He was tall, his hair shaved at the sides but longer and darker on top. He had a thick beard, cutting an intimidating figure in his denim vest, showing off the tattoos on his biceps. Mostly you were struck by his eyes, cerulean pools that were as striking as they were daunting.

They were also oddly familiar in a way you couldn’t place.

“S-sorry, I wasn’t talking to you…” you mumbled, embarrassed to have been caught out like this in your current state.

“Well, I got time. Just taking a break from the party,” he took a long drag on his cigarette, “I’m Chris. So, tell me about this motherfucker…”

🥇

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for making my family eat my mother's terrible cooking?

I (32NB) currently live with my father (70M), mother (68F), and brother (36M). My brother is disabled and requires at least one full time caretaker. Up until recently, this was me. First, my mom and I were sharing the duty, but then my grandmother got sick and my mom left, leaving me working, going to school, and taking care of the house and my brother by myself most of the time. It's worth noting I'm also disabled (physically and mentally), I just lived on my own from 16-27 so I got used to dealing.

Now my father has moved in with us and is taking care of my brother which is a huge relief. My grandmother died and my mother is back and helping as well! As a result, and out of the severe damage all the previous work did to me physically and mentally, I have removed myself ENTIRELY from caretaking from my brother. I don't do SHIT anymore. I will occasionally make him a sandwich or something if I feel up to it. So this is where the assholery might come in.

My mom… cannot cook. She is terrible. I mean it. Whatever you're imagining: worse. I regularly impress one of my friends (just the one, I don't want to bad mouth her excessively) with tales of her horrifying abominations. Yesterday she cooked tilapia in MELTED. LIME. POPSICLES. because she thought it would give it a citrus flavor. She did not use other seasoning (no not even salt). We have lime and lemon juice in the fridge!!!

I used to cook at least half of the meals, and often would help mom with dinner when it wasn't something boxed, to avoid such… creativity (and because half the time when she cooked I couldn't stomach it). But now due to health issues (caused by illness caused by overworking), I'm buying my own food and cooking all my own meals regardless, so I have fully stopped cooking for the family because I can't eat what they eat and we can't afford to all eat what I eat. I am subjecting my poor family to lime popsicle tilapia. We are wasting food because she ruins it and then no one will eat it, at a time when eggs are like $8 a dozen. My dad cooks when mom's not here (he's GOOD) but when she is, he lets her.

AITA? Should I bite the bullet and start cooking for everyone again?

What are these acronyms?

[chaoticace2005]

I feel like there are three different possible reasons for Jax’s actions. And they aren’t all mutually exclusive either.

1) It’s a coping mechanism done to distance himself from people.

-Current evidence: the “look” he gave about Kaufmo’s funeral/his absence (although there could be other reasons behind it)

2) It’s behavior adopted due to being in a virtual world.

-Current evidence: the way he acts like a violent video game player in episode 2

3) This behavior was already very much existing before he joined the circus.

-Gooseworx post saying that Jax belongs more than anyone to be in the circus

The main difference between #1 and #2 is awareness of actions. #1 is much more he’s intentionally putting on a front, whereas #2 is his actions are based due to his perception of being in a digital world. #2 is technically still a coping mechanism and defense strategy, but it’s something a little more specific.

Note: Regardless of the reasoning behind it, this is in no way an excuse for his assholery. Harassing people is not a slay. It’s just always fun to explore the rationale behind it.

[moth-related-inquiries]

Arthur Morgan x Reader angst

Reader does not know where they belong amongst the gang. Or at all, really.

Warnings: super angsty, Micah Bell, reader is genuinely miserable, Arthur x reader if u squint, outlaws n shit!!! Ambiguous gender, reader falls for Micah's assholery, Micah is sexist asf,

listen while you read?:

Whenever Arthur rushed to his tent, you always knew it was because he'd received a special little letter. You haven't run with the gang for long, but you've been there long enough to know that the sulky man was only ever excited by one of two things: a big fish and Mary Linton. You didn't blame him, honestly. Serving as the camp's workhorse, he had little time to himself. When he did have time, he'd go on some love-struck search for his missing half. Though it'd been years since she'd sent him a letter, it seemed like she'd find some way to follow them everywhere. It was impossible, of course, since she had no way of knowing where they'd move, but she always managed to show up close to camp. At least close enough to get him to drop his workload and come to her aid.

You knew all this solely because you had a habit of watching. It wasn't really a bad habit, considering that you'd never dared to take a peek at anyone in their tent. It was just that—a habit. Or, perhaps, a part of your nature. It was something comfortable that you did even before your time in the gang. As a teenager, you'd sit outside the general store and just observe. You were too old to go to school yet too young to go inside any of the stores on your own, so you busied yourself with pretending to be a viewer. You'd spot many things: a man riding in with a bounty, a pair of women talking about the latest perfumes, or a dog jumping around in the mud. You'd always wanted to do those things, too, but never had the courage to get out of your spot.

Then came Dutch Van Der Linde, a man who'd seen that, despite your inactivity, you were far more capable than you let on. Though you weren't a great shot like his right-hand man, you weren't utterly terrible like Sean. Your words were clumsy and awkward, but you always finished your sentences. That was one thing he seemed to like about you: that you would always finish what you started, regardless of how badly you'd mess up.

Or maybe he just liked that you were a follower, regardless of how things ended up.

Nonetheless, he allowed you to stick around his gang, and you'd get things done. Though not without struggle at first, one of which would always embarrass you no matter how many times anyone thanked you for your effort. Even if you managed to feel good about your work, one back-handed compliment from Micah would send you right back to your tent with a shameful feeling in your gut. You'd often end up watching Arthur, your usual savior, spit some venomous words on your behalf, like he'd been the berated one. That's what made Arthur a saint in your eyes. Despite being a murderer, he managed to be good and do good things when he could. Even if he denied such things, it made him all the better in your eyes. It showed that he did not do good things for praise, but because he could.

You'd never be like Arthur, no matter how many times you'd observe him and try to pick apart the things that he did. He was a rare kind of man. Maybe he wasn't even a man at all, but perhaps an angel who fell from heaven. That was considerably more plausible to you since no other man had yet to even reach his near-impossible status of honorable degeneracy. So, you settled for just watching him. Listening to him. Living through him. Wanting him and wanting to be him.

Arthur, unsurprisingly, wasn't the only person to catch your eye. There were many like-minded men and women in camp who agreed with and admired Arthur, just like yourself. Though, unlike you, they'd actually work for his attention. Young Lenny was often Arthur's first choice of partner. You didn't understand why, considering that Lenny spent the majority of his time reading, until you'd actually had the opportunity to see him in action. He fought hard and got the job done, like a true outlaw.

He was a no-nonsense kind of kid, which Arthur seemed to value. Not long after Colter did they become closer. Brothers. Not brothers, as in two boys growing up together or being related biologically, but brothers who learn from each other. You'd always wanted to be as effortlessly balanced as Lenny. Sophisticated in your own right, but willing to get your hands dirty with no fuss. A perfect brother. You were anything but that. It was true that you, too, would get things done. However, you possessed a far less methodical mind. You were too scatterbrained to finish things in one go and too finicky to be a perfect brother. Far too abnormal to amount to being anything like Lenny Summers, and yet you were older than him.

Age didn't seem to matter when it concerned your abilities, though. No matter how young or old you were, there would always be someone better. Whether it were being better at being thirteen or thirty-two, they'd beat you in a heartbeat no matter your true age.

Abigail Roberts was your favorite example to bring up. She'd always been a very mature woman, even in the face of her husband, John Marston, a grown man who acted like a fifteen-year-old boy when faced with the consequences of his own actions. While there were many women in unfortunate circumstances like her, she did what she could to make life good for her son. Many, including her stubborn husband, considered her a camp leech now that she was no longer of use. Which you despised. Abigail was so much more than people let on. Beautiful, graceful, smart, and most importantly, a loving mother.

She's had her ups and downs and continues to, but the most impactful thing she ever achieved in life was Jack. A sweet, curious little boy with a newfound obsession for the Knights of the Round Table. He was, in every way, the soft spot of the camp. It's ridiculous to admit, but you were envious of both of them. You wanted to be a virtuous parent like Abigail, too. To be able to cultivate your legacy in a purely determined manner and retain your glory despite having given life only four years ago. However, you also wanted the reboot given to little Jack, too. A fresh start to a new life. The funny little possibility of growing up to be the first great knight of West Elizabeth.

You'd never amount to anything close, though. And you knew it. Even Micah Bell, an utterly disgusting and hateful excuse for a man, achieved far greater than you. So much so that he felt like your presence at camp was the most useless of them all. Below the women, who he claimed were just mouths to feed and fuck; below the drunkards, who acted as breathing furniture; and below little Jack, a child so defenseless that he could be lured away in the middle of the night and nobody would be any wiser.

You never truly discouraged him because he was the only one to tell the truth about you. Unlike everyone else in camp, who had so much ahead of them and so many tales for future generations of children to play pretend with, you would not be remembered in a jovial manner. Your life would never, no matter how hard you tried, be anything other than an allegory of shame and failure.

A/N: I just woke up and wrote this for some obscure reason that I don't even know. 😋 I hope yall like it, tho. Let me know if yall like the 'listen while you read' !!

[dootznbootz]

Hi, what do you think about epic the musical as an Odyssey fan? Just curious

As an Epic the musical fan, I LOVE IT! Everyone's so talented and I love the music style!!! It's super fun and creative and it's amazing that Jay basically writes it all himself!

As an Odyssey fan... It's INCREDIBLY different. To the point where it's more "Odyssey inspired" than the actual Odyssey. But that's the thing. I wouldn't say Jay WANTS it to be word for word Odyssey and I DO think that'd be...kind of hard to do? Especially for Modern day.

It still has most of the "spirit" of the Odyssey though I feel like which is SUPER important. I'm saddened that very few adaptations really "balance" Odysseus' assholery and "goodness". I love "shithead Odysseus" but personally, I'm happy as long as an adaptation keeps to a "family man who wants to go home" for the most part :D (I really fucking hate the whole "Odysseus! The clever, swashbuckling hero who gets all the babes! ...He has a family?!" bullshit. That's very much not him. (He likes shiny things, yes but that's it)

More personal rambles below :D

I think it's interesting that Polites in Epic is more "peaceful" when in the Odyssey, he's called "captain of armies". And the fact he's killed right away when he was one of the last men alive.

Also Odysseus' and Eurylochus' friendship! I think it's sweet in the musical while in the Odyssey, it's quite tense. It gets more and more tense in Epic later on obviously but in the odyssey, it's been tense for a WHILE. Also!

Shout out to Armando Julian! Eurylochus' actor! I see a lot of people talk about Polites, Poseidon, Circe, and Hermes and they get a lot of fanart and love with their songs (rightfully so, ofc!!!) but Armando is really talented and people really sleep on Luck Runs Out! I'm about to become a vocal nerd for a moment. He's got a wonderful vibrato! I really love how he sings "feed" during Full Speed Ahead and "Captain, please" during Remember Them for example. His voice really fits with "speaking on behalf of the crew".

I know most people have a lot of feelings with the Circe Saga but I think that Jay did a great job considering... everything. Book 10 and 12 of the Odyssey are very complicated and I don't blame Jay for not wanting to delve into EVERYTHING with that. Odyssey Odysseus gets SA'd twice and while "I'm Not Sorry for Loving You" makes me worry, I really do think Jay will pull through with how fucked up Calypso's situation while still not having the graphic scenes in the Odyssey. It would be very hard to not only have what was basically an exchange for his men to be turned back to humans but if he interprets it happening throughout the entire year like some readers do, then that's really hard. :'D To truly portray Odysseus' fear of Circe while still having her be morally gray. As she very likely didn't mean Odysseus harm after a certain point but he was still afraid regardless.

Not only trying to not have such disturbing stuff shown in his musical but also, I think Jay was possibly trying to be considerate of Madeline Miller's Circe fans while still trying to show Odysseus discomfort and distress???? 😅 Sounds weird but like, as soon as I heard Circe talking about the nymphs being like her daughters and that she protects them, I thought that. That book is HUGE and I'm sure that many fans of it don't necessarily want to see Circe's "I do whatever I want. I don't need a reason. Woe, Oink be upon ye." as the most likely reason they were turned into pigs in the Odyssey is that ODYSSEUS is associated with them (the boar scar, the metaphors when talking about him in the Iliad, his trusted Swineherd Eumeaus, BOAR TUSK HELMET. Like, that's kind of the animal that represents Odysseus. (even when a spear pierces through a boar's hide, it'll STILL charge as they're that ferocious and determined...Just like Odysseus, a man who should be dead but isn't because of his will to go home. Homer didn't write them being turned into pigs necessarily as a "Men are pigs" thing.

I think the modern shift in how the situation seen today and other media of the Odyssey is why he wrote the songs he did. And considering it all? He did a good job navigating it. I'm very happy with the results!

I have more thoughts probably but those have been stewing in my brain for a while :D I definitely look forward to the next sagas!

[genrebender]

There’s something that has been buzzing around in the back of my head for awhile now that I finally figured out how to articulate.

I have a lot of favorite characters, comfort characters, and characters I kin/relate to. One of the characters that fits all three categories is Caleb Widogast, but there is something extra that I just learned to express. Something about him that if I ever meet Liam O’Brien I might start sobbing about how much this character means to me.

He is the only character I’ve ever seen that loves the same way I do. I don’t just mean that he’s a chaotic bisexual disaster or that he’s polyamorous; it’s how deeply and widely he loves, how quickly he comes to care about those around him and how deeply his well of love to give is. It’s his hard to define and place relationship with Veth/Nott. How he falls in love with Jester; how whether it became platonic or is still in some way romantic, when life shows that isn’t what their relationship is going to be they’re dear friends. It’s that regardless of exactly what that love is he, still loves her. The flirting and tension with Mollymauk, and later Lucien. How he sees himself in Essek; though all the trouble in the world hangs around them he falls deeply, even if he holds it back behind the walls of his heart. The way early in the campaign he thinks he should leave the party while they’re all asleep; but he doesn’t, he sits there and lists all the reason to go but he doesn’t. There’s of course the doyelist explanation that the PC needs to stay with the party for the campaign and story, but the Watsonian that he’s already come to deeply care about these people. Even as he tries to keep his heart closed and cold he can’t. Caleb’s heart was designed to love fully, widely, deeply, and passionately. He and Essek are able to fight and stand beside each other as they start to heal. He works to put away his abuser so he can’t do that to anyone again, he becomes a teacher who questions authority and fights against the corrupt parts of the institution, and he continues working to put other corrupt authority figures away.

Even with all Caleb’s been through, all the pain of his past, self loathing, and assholery he works to make the world a better and brighter place. One of the people he once considered abandoning became his sister, the person who helps uproot corruption. This man loves so wholly; familiar, romantic, platonic, and all the messy complicated gray alcoves and variations on that spectrum.

[bells-stories]

MINHO x READER

-he finds out you’ve taken a liking to other boys in the maze and doesn’t mind one bit.

-Snippet from PROJECT GRIEVER (wattpad: bells_stories)

"I remember something." I say and I looked at him. He didn’t seem too shocked and I continue. "I remember a boy. Brunette. Brown eyes. His name is, was, Thomas. I remember the way he made me feel, I remember our love but then last night before I did...." I trailed off because some part of me didn't want to tell Minho because it was afraid that then he would't want me afterwards but I had to. Gally might say he's okay with it but the others deserve to know. "I kissed gally." I say and I looked to Minho for a response. But there wasn't none, his face was passive as if contemplating and he spoke.

"So you feel guilty." He says and I nod. "It's okay y/n how could you have known."

"I know but I still feel like a shit person. There's someone out there that I loved deeply and now I'm starting something new with someone else it feels wrong regardless. Besides there is one other thing that adds to this guilt. I don't just like Gally." I say and Minho sits upright on his bed.

"What do you mean?" He says coming closer to me.

"I mean I feel something for you too, and for Newt." I say and immediately feel ashamed. I couldn't even look into Minho's eyes. He places a hand on my shoulder and we just stay like that for a while both of us think of what to say. "I'm sorry." I mumbled. "I shouldn't have said anything." I say and for the first time I look up at him and he smiles.

"No. I'm flattered. I mean of course you couldn't resist me." He says and I push him.

"Fuck you." I say laughing. I rolled my eyes and then his face got serious.

"You're still a greenie. Been here what? Five days? Six? If you want to mess around then that's on you. I would get it. I do get it. And I'm serious if you're interested in me just know the feeling's mutal and you can act on them anytime." He says and smiles brightly and I feel a small weight lifted off of me.

"So I'm not the asshole?"

"No assholery detected and don't feel guilty. At least for me. I'm glad you chose me even if it is with some other shanks. However, you should tell the others."

"Gally knows, not about the Thomas part because that happened after he felt. But he knows. Says it's cool too."

"Now that's a shocker I would've expected him to be jealous."

"What can I say? I change people." I say sarcastically and we laugh.

"And Newt?"

"He knows nothing. I just, I fear losing him but I know its wrong not to tell him so i'll do it today."

"Good. Now that that is out of the way can you sleep?"

"Maybe." I say looking at him. He moves aside and pats the space next to him. His bed is slightly larger than mine but I guess that's what comes with the keeper position. Perks. I lay down in the spot he designated for me and he wraps his arms around me and I lay on my chest. Eventually I fell asleep to the beating of his heart.

Read more here👇

[dani-ya-dig]

Okay so this is the most stupid thing ever that makes no sense, but I’ve been thinking about like what if redacted audio existed in the redacted-verse. I was thinking about who the characters would listen to, if they would listen. Think of it like this is the character I would recommend to the redacted audio characters.

So I’m gonna rant abt that. Feel free to offer your suggestions and who you think the characters would like!

David: I don’t think David would be the type to listen to boyfriend asmr at all. So while Guy or Asher would be an obvious answer for that, I think he wouldn’t want to view any of these characters in a romantic light. If he did listen he would be the type of listener to imagine the listener is a separate character from him entirely. So I think his favorite character would be someone he can enjoy from a character standpoint outside of the romance audio. To that I choose Damien! I think David would be able to relate to him in the way he throws himself at things and his work, and I also feel like David would admire Damien’s strong sense of Justice.

Asher: Now a super easy answer I could go with would be David. Unlike David, Asher would love a character that embodies traits of David just as much in fiction as he does in real life. He would kick his feet and twirl his hair over David’s audios. So David is definitely an answer for Ash, but I feel like it’s too easy. Maybe Aaron? I mean he does have that whole tsundere, dom vibe that Asher could fuck with. I think that’s the closest I’m getting here.

Milo: oh god Milo… who would he like?? Oh wait! Gavin yup. Gavin has the just right amount of like started off as a confident, cocky asshole, to evolving into a sweetheart (no pun intended) who is still a cocky, confident asshole. That’s my final answer for Milo.

Vincent: This one is actually stumping me?? Like… thinking about Vincent’s character and what characters he would like. Maybe Avior? I’m taking shots in the dark here though. If you guys have any ideas then like let me know what you think and why.

Sam: You see… my heart wants to say David, because I think it’s so funny to joke about Sam having a crush on David. But my head, knows that Sam would not put up with the amount of attitude and assholery in David’s first audios to get anywhere near where he is a calm dude. Sam is another one of those characters who I don’t think would really like to romantic aspects of bf asmr, so it’s not up to picking who he would be fictionally romantically compatible with. Hear me out…. Guy. Again Sam isn’t intro eh whole romance thing. Guy is an entertaining listen outside of the romance stuff! Peepaw misses half of the vine references and memes, but regardless Guy’s silly attitude and dramatic demeanor makes him laugh and shake his head affectionately and that is all he needs in this simple life.

Porter: Okay so Porter is a tease. I think he loves to tease and flustered the shit out of people. So you’d think the obvious answer there would be Lasko, but you’d be wrong! He doesn’t just want flustered and that’s the be all end all, I think he would want at least a little pushback. He lives to piss people off. So for that I would go with David and Damien. Also this one might be a little out of character and just my personal interpretation of Porter, but I think that he would like Geordi’s storyline. I think he would like seeing a story where the listener does something bad and toxic but that’s not the be all end all of who they are. A story of someone getting better and actually working on their faults and their partner actively wanting them to change and encouraging them to get help while also uphold in boundaries.

I think this is all I’m gonna do for now. I’ll probably do the DAMN crew next???

[ultra-creepy-fucker-things]

The driving force behind at least part of my version of Toffee's assholery is honestly the fact that he's in a lot of pain, physically as well as emotionally. For a lot of the emotional pain? He knows full well that he's suffering in ways that others might not be because a lot of it is related to bad things that happened to him that still haunt him centuries later. Physically? His scar does ache, certainly, and his finger hurts after Eclipsa's spell, but he's also got sensory issues, there's a lot of just... Normal every day sensations that are painful to him but not most other people, and he sincerely isn't aware of this. Kinda thinks that everyone else is just pushing through like he is.

He's also just a naturally blunt person. He'd probably come off as a bit of an asshole regardless, but the fact that he's always in a bad mood doesn't help.

[nutzgunray-lvt]

The Eri Problem

I'm going to get some flack for this, but I've never been a fan of Eri. Yeah, she's a cute kid who was dealt an awful hand in life, but I hate the way she's written/placed in the story. I think she could have been so much more if different things were done with her character, but as things stand right now, she's just a walking-talking plot device. I'll try and break down why I'm not a fan of how she's been written thus far and what it means for the story thus far:

(sidenote: this has some anti Bakugou and anti Aizawa elements, as well as some UA critical ranting, so it's also been tagged as such)

1. Her backstory

Her backstory sounds like something straight out of fanfiction, and while other people may like that (I'm not judging if you do), I'm just not a fan of it. You have characters with much more realistic backstories such as Izuku (absent father, mercilessly bullied due to being Quirkless), Shoto (hospitalized mother, has an extremely famous public figure for a father that happens to be abusive), and Kota (hero parents were killed in the line of duty when he was a toddler, raised by his aunt as a result of that).

Then you have Eri: she erased her father from existence on accident (she also has no birth certificate for whatever reason), causing her mother to hate/fear her to the point where she's put in the care of the Yakuza. The head of the Yakuza - who happens to be her maternal grandfather - becomes unable to care for her, leading Overhaul to experiment on her for his Quirk erasing bullets. She then gets taken in by Eraserhead and the staff of UA. In fanfiction (depending on how it's done), I wouldn't mind seeing this, but seeing this done in canon just doesn't sit with me.

2. Her Quirk

I'm not saying anything new here, given that this is by far the most debated thing about her, but her Quirk just lowers the stakes of the story to me. Why should I worry about Mirio being Quirkless when we all know that Eri's going to restore his Quirk? For that matter, why don't they have her restore Aizawa's leg and eye? Why don't they have her restore All Might back to his prime? If they have her do one of these things, why not have her do the other two?

3. Her Role

The above two points kind of converge into this one, and I think it's one of the biggest reasons why I have such a problem with her character: she HATES her Quirk (for totally valid reasons, I'd hate Rewind if I had it), yet is used by UA to restore Mirio's Quirk with no consideration for her own feelings on the matter. That doesn't sit right with me, and I've seen a few other people agree.

She's also used to rehabilitate Aizawa and Bakugou's images without giving them proper character development.

Aizawa is a mess of a man who has no business taking care of any child, regardless of their age. I understand that pragmatically, he's the best option until she gains control of her Quirk, but we don't even see him take care of her! Whenever she's trotted out in the story for her designated cute moments, he more often than not just leaves her in the care of his class. I will give him props for sacrificing his leg for her sake, but that's just about the only big "bonding" moment that they have. People often point to Aizawa's relationship with Eri as evidence that he's not just some asshole teacher, but that just raises a question for me: if he supposedly cares for his students as much as he does for Eri, why don't we see him loosening up on his assholery towards them? Why don't we see him reflecting on his frankly horrible treatment of them (Izuku in particular) and resolving to try and do better? In the light novels, we see how much Eri adores Izuku (wanting Santa to visit him as well, asking if Izuku was okay when he ran off to get the candy apples to surprise her with), which would have been a perfect set up for this.

*bonus complaint, but how can these teachers take such good care of Eri and then turn around and pretend to kidnap the parents of Class 1A for Parents Day? How can they just sit by and let Bakugou treat everyone around him the way he does? How can they say that they see these kids as their own children if they not only do nothing to help Izuku, Aoyama, and Kaminari control their Quirks, but they let Izuku drop out of UA to go fight All For One and Shigaraki? How can they ignore all of the child abuse red flags Todoroki throws up? How can Midnight make outright sexual comments that canonically make the students uncomfortable?

In the 6th light novel, she's also used to teach Bakugou to not be such an asshole 24/7. I don't even need to get into why leaving a traumatized 6 year with such a mean-spirited bully is a horrible idea... then again, Aizawa thought he could resolve the bad blood between Izuku and Bakugou by forcing them to work together, and we all know how well that turned out (Bakugou backhanding Izuku and outright stating he'd rather fail than work with Izuku), so what the hell do I know?

In my honest opinion, Eri would have been much happier if she had somehow gotten her Quirk erased and was taken in by Mirio and his family. She could still be in the story, but more along the lines of how Kota is in the story: very occasionally popping up to show their recovery and their love for Izuku.

Maybe they could even start an Izuku fanclub together.

[the-golden-comet]

So I saw the results of the character poll and I would like to voice my support of Noah as the all time GOAT of the Goldencomet-verse

Ik Peter won, and don't get me wrong, I love Peter, but maybe he's a bit too much of an asshole. Like, he doesn't catch enough retribution for his actions and Benji is kinda forced to deal with it and it's played off as a joke. Sure, Benji flings enough insults to make a French man laugh, but none of them are really taken seriously by anyone (especially that dress scene. That was wrong and no one ever apologized in the slightest, even Peter). I need some retribution and I need some W's for me to ride or die for a ship.

That all being said, that's one of the reasons why I LOVE Noah (and Ali). Noah, while being super introverted (from what I've seen), he's still not taking shit from anyone. AND ALI RESPECTS IT 👏👏. I like myself a relationship built off of genuine pure-bred respect. That's why I love enemies to lovers or rivals to lovers (even though idk if YWIMC counts as either. Could be wrong tho). Most of the time in those two tropes, the romance stems from genuine (although begrudging) RESPECT. And respect and pity are two different things. 'Aw poor *insert character here*' also isn't a good relationship foundation. If the relationship isn't built off of long-standing respect of the 'I see you as my equal' caliber, I don't want it.

I would also like to voice my love for Noah in a separate paragraph, cause I kinda just yapped about the relationship lol. Noah, as I mentioned, doesn't take shit from NOBODY. 'Introverted' sure as hell doesn't mean pushover when it comes to Noah. And, for every ounce of not taking shit, there's an equal amount of softness towards those he loves. You need an equal balance for a delicious romance and he does it perfectly 🤌🤌. I also like that, while he isn't the strongest physically, he's still not a pathetic mop of a character. He earns his wins through his own means and HE DESERVES IT. Even when he has help, he's not the ever constant damsel in distress waiting for his big strong boyfriend to save him. He does something, he tries his best, and I respect him for it.

And i would like to end this with saying I love Peter Hart, even though ik it sounded like I was hating lol. It was a really fun read and funny a lot of times. Ig getting away with assholery just strikes a sore spot 😂

One last side note: I will definitely be reading YWIMC when it comes out if you can't tell (and also sorry for the rant)

I am absolutely in love with this post!! Thank you so much for making it!! Don’t ever feel bad for voicing an opinion of my characters! In fact, I am so happy to see Noah get some genuine love!! This post gave me the goofiest smile and I appreciate you making it 💛✨

Noah has a soft spot in my own heart because of his jaded “front,” but he’s not afraid to let his vulnerability show….ESPECIALLY around Ali. Noah has trouble expressing his emotions due to his ASD, so seeing him make genuine wins and setting firm boundaries with people make us go, “YES! Don’t take shit from anyone! 👏 👏 👏”

One of the main themes of YWIMC is stepping outside of comfort zones and letting rigid barriers fall (in Noah’s case) whereas the lesson that Ali learns is that you can love someone regardless of your upbringing, and to eventually get over fears of attachment.

Seeing so much love for Noah is genuinely heartwarming, and I thank you so much for making this ask! 💫

(And Peter is such an asshole lmao. Entertaining, but an asshole nonetheless. This is a totally valid criticism of his character 😂✨)

[poetsblvd]

rules & before you request !

❨ please read the rules before you send in a request <3 ❩

i write for only fem!reader, and i write smau’s, one shots, song based fics, headcannons and blurbs sometimes!

i do not write smut. i’m not good at writing it all and therefore don’t want to make others and myself uncomfortable with pathetic attempts!

i will not write anything entertaining the topics of; smut, gore, extreme violence, rape, step-cest, piss kinks, ddlg, bdsm, rape, eating disorders. so please avoid requesting the same!

i have the rights to reject a request if i feel uncomfortable writing it or if i simply do not have the motivation to do so! i will do my best to write it but my motivation to write gets very fickle at times, and comes and goes at its own measure.

please remember to be kind! i will absolutely not tolerate any form of hate, racism, homophobia, transphobia, misogyny, or general assholery on here, this is a safe happy space and i want for everyone to feel welcomed!

do not steal my work! this is the most important thing to remember, please do not steal, copy, repost or translate any of my work! regardless of if you give credit or not i do not want to see something i have written being put on another app or site, not only is it illegal, it is also rude and extremely demotivating!

❨ the drivers i write for are, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, max verstappen and when i get inspo or i feel like it then, sebastian vettel, oscar piastri, pierre gasly, mick schumacher and lando norris. ❩