#that said this is absolutely whinging
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So I have not yet picked up The Witcher season 3, but I'm sure I will eventually. I do however feel the need to whinge a bit about season 2.
So I will be the first to admit that I am a little Jaskier gremlin. Frankly he is the main reason I am watching this show. I also recognize that he is not the main main character and that there will be episodes not about him, and that's fine. That is not my problem. What my problem is, is that he got completely shafted by season 2 even when he was here, and honestly I don't know why he was after his little trip with Yennefer (the best part of that season in my opinion btw). After that point, he has no narrative or character reason to be here, because Geralt does not give a shit about him it seems. His last episode in season 1 was great drama, Geralt was a complete asshole to him and Jaskier was understandably hurt by that. And yet don't actually bother picking that up at all in season 2. It starts off great with the Butcher song, but it's never resolved in a satisfying way. Geralt has no moment to actually acknowledge that Jaskier didn't deserve that treatment on the mountain, he just mutters a clearly half hearted apology and Jaskier just takes it. And that's it. That's the entire emotional resolution. The first thing Geralt says to him is "I need your help" nah man, that's not fucking good enough. Guess Jaskier's not a hot woman so we can't have Gerlat too involved in his emotional relationship with him. And don't get me wrong, this is not a shot against Yennefer, Yennefer is great. She does in fact have proper chemistry with Jaskier! She is probably my second favourite character! What I do see as a problem is that clearly someone among the writers, whoever it was, decided that that platonic relationships between adults are just irrelevent. Can't have that, no one cares, let's focus more on the sexual brooding. Even Yennefer and Jaskier's relationship, which is really good btw I love that episode, gets pushed away as soon as soon as Geralt is in the picture again. It feels like the only reason Jaskier is at Kaer Morhen is cause... you know. He's Jaskier. You can't just write him out entirely. But at no point does it feel like anyone really wants him there, which would also be fine if that was a plotpoint, but it's not. He's just kinda there. Until he isn't for a season cliffhanger. He's just hanging around, pretending that Geralt actually had a reason to take him along, be that emotional or practical, neither of which I can discern. Let's be honest, Jaskier did not make Ciri safer in accompanying her there. The fact that he got tortured never comes up, despite Yennefer having seen it. No one ever tries to engage with him there. It's honestly painful to watch how he's basically just a prop at this point.
And you know, maybe season 3 will pick it up! Maybe he finally gets to be somewhat vindicated in his feelings! Maybe someone actually apologizes to him for once! But frankly it doesn't feel like that was a deliberate characterization in season 2 that will be played on in the next one, so I'm just putting it off longer and longer because while I am interested and I'm sure there are good parts (season 2 had great parts honestly before that turn), I also don't want to watch my favourite character be treated like a joke again in a way that hits too close to home for me personally.
#am i too grumpy about this?#probably#but man I am sick about my faves getting emotionally shafted#somehow they always end up as the butt of the joke#i did hear that song that seems to be from s3 which sounds nice#i did hear they finally committed to bi jaskier#so i'm sure i eventually will just get it over with#but man#i am kinda dreading risking it#that fact that I've not seen almost any fics on ao3 that seem to pick up on s3 doesn't excatly seem encouraging either#that said this is absolutely whinging#so don't take it too seriosuly#yeah anyway jaskier and yennefer being sarcastic at each other while saving each other's lives is in the fact best part of this entire show
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in an alternate universe, you meet older bf!simon through a friend- well, a friend’s brother.
your friend’s brother, johnny. he overhears you whinging to his sister about how fucking hard it is to find a place to live. so he tells you about this guy he serves with.
‘L.t’ he calls him.
since he and L.t are on deployment so often, there’s a tidy re-purposed council flat that’s often empty. johnny says he’ll chat L.t about your predicament and see what he thinks.
L.t allows you to live in his home- problem is he’s leaving on deployment literally tomorrow so you have to exchange agreements by text.
you’ve got money going into his account, some basic agreements about no parties, no partners, no smoking, and no mucking about.
L.t gives the key to johnny, who gives it to his sister, who gives it to you- opening the door to an almost pristine little home. not a thing out of place.
military precision.
so you move in and you’re shocked to find more than a flat pillow and plaid duvet cover. there’s 3-in-1 in the shower but easily replaced with your own products.
the pantry and fridge are bare but soon filled with your favourites. your undies are drying over the dining chairs and your blanket is draped across the couch.
you’ve got your own profile on the netflix and your toothbrush is in the holder. you’ve done what you were told.
“make yourself at home”
so much so that you almost forget deployment will end at some point, hard to remember when you don’t even have the faintest idea when that’ll be.
johnny said it could be weeks, maybe months. he didn’t tell you that it could be at any moment.
you think you hear the door in the deep of your sleep but your brain reassures you it’s in the back of your dream- you don’t even wake.
it’s actually the weight dropping beside you on the mattress and shuffling up to your back that gets you. it’s a miracle you don’t scream.
L.t lands a rough hand on your back, something about “calm down, s’only me”
only him? he who’s name you don’t even know?
as if he can read your mind, he’s following up with a grumbled “simon”
simon ‘sans-last name.’
before his breathing begins to even out.
your heart is beating out your chest- perfect stranger climbing into bed with you?
the voice in your head that always wants you to be polite reminds you that this is actually his house, after all.
he was also kind enough to let you stay, charging a rent way below going rate.
he had just been away serving this country, duty to protect and all.
and johnny knows him, vouched for him- sure johnny can be a bit of a perv but he’s harmless.
simon must be too, right?
you decide to settle back under the duvet, telling yourself it’s you that’s being weird. you need to be more grateful!
mans tired, if he wasn’t absolutely shattered he would’ve taken the couch.
right?
you’re almost entirely convinced until you feel a strong arm loop around your waist, pulling you back into something unbelievably hard.
harmless.
right.
#this is an alternate universe because this is weirdo simon and he’s not canon!#i just like to indulge!#older bf!simon#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#alternate universe!simon
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Words to use instead of ‘said’
**Using the word ‘said’ is absolutely not a bad choice, and in fact, you will want to use it for at least 40% of all your dialogue tags. Using other words can be great, especially for description and showing emotion, but used in excess can take away or distract from the story.
Neutral: acknowledged, added, affirmed, agreed, announced, answered, appealed, articulated, attested, began, bemused, boasted, called, chimed in, claimed, clarified, commented, conceded, confided, confirmed, contended, continued, corrected, decided, declared, deflected, demurred, disclosed, disputed, emphasized, explained, expressed, finished, gloated, greeted, hinted, imitated, imparted, implied, informed, interjected, insinuated, insisted, instructed, lectured, maintained, mouthed, mused, noted, observed, offered, put forth, reassured, recited, remarked, repeated, requested, replied, revealed, shared, spoke up, stated, suggested, uttered, voiced, volunteered, vowed, went on
Persuasive: advised, appealed, asserted, assured, begged, cajoled, claimed, convinced, directed, encouraged, implored, insisted, pleaded, pressed, probed, prodded, prompted, stressed, suggested, urged
Continuously: babbled, chattered, jabbered, rambled, rattled on
Quietly: admitted, breathed, confessed, croaked, crooned, grumbled, hissed, mumbled, murmured, muttered, purred, sighed, whispered
Loudly: bellowed, blurted, boomed, cried, hollered, howled, piped, roared, screamed, screeched, shouted, shrieked, squawked, thundered, wailed, yelled, yelped
Happily/Lovingly: admired, beamed, cackled, cheered, chirped, comforted, consoled, cooed, empathized, flirted, gushed, hummed, invited, praised, proclaimed, professed, reassured, soothed, squealed, whooped
Humour: bantered, chuckled, giggled, guffawed, jested, joked, joshed
Sad: bawled, begged, bemoaned, blubbered, grieved, lamented, mewled, mourned, pleaded, sniffled, sniveled, sobbed, wailed, wept, whimpered
Frustrated: argued, bickered, chastised, complained, exasperated, groaned, huffed, protested, whinged
Anger: accused, bristled, criticized, condemned, cursed, demanded, denounced, erupted, fumed, growled, lied, nagged, ordered, provoked, raged, ranted remonstrated, retorted, scoffed, scolded, scowled, seethed, shot, snapped, snarled, sneered, spat, stormed, swore, taunted, threatened, warned
Disgust: cringed, gagged, groused, griped, grunted, mocked, rasped, sniffed, snorted
Fear: cautioned, faltered, fretted, gasped, quaked, quavered, shuddered, stammered, stuttered, trembled, warned, whimpered, whined
Excited: beamed, cheered, cried out, crowed, exclaimed, gushed, rejoiced, sang, trumpeted
Surprised: blurted, exclaimed, gasped, marveled, sputtered, yelped
Provoked: bragged, dared, gibed, goaded, insulted, jeered, lied, mimicked, nagged, pestered, provoked, quipped, ribbed, ridiculed, sassed, teased
Uncertainty/Questionned: asked, challenged, coaxed, concluded, countered, debated, doubted, entreated, guessed, hesitated, hinted, implored, inquired, objected, persuaded, petitioned, pleaded, pondered, pressed, probed, proposed, queried, questioned, quizzed, reasoned, reiterated, reported, requested, speculated, supposed, surmised, testified, theorized, verified, wondered
This is by no means a full list, but should be more than enough to get you started!
Any more words you favor? Add them in the comments!
Happy Writing :)
#writing resources#writing advice#creative writing#writers on tumblr#tumblr writers#dialogue#writing dialogue#dialogue tags#instead of said#writing community#writer#writeblr#writerscommunity#novel writing#writing#fiction
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Queer discourse on this site of fun cause it just turns into mostly White Queers just saying the same things over and over and no one is capable of understanding nuance or willing to consider the others point of view cause they're more concerned with "winning" the argument. Which is stupid and pointless because arguing is for idiots.
Y'all know we're on the same side right? There's no point in having discussions over 'who the most oppressed' is when it's obviously black and brown queer people, especially transfem black women.
This is a fact.
Do y'all even remember back in the late 2010's when the only time "transgender" or "transfem" trended n this site was when another black or brown sister was killed?
Do y'all even care about them? I've seen tons of posts for Pauly Likens which is great, but where's the outrage for Shannon Boswell, shot to death in the street while police denied said shooting even happened? What about Tayy Thomas and River Goddard, just children who were killed by their partners? Where's your rage for TK Hill, shot outside his hair salon? Or Africá Garciá, homeless and shot to death in a dirty street.
Last year 320 trans people were killed. Three-hundred and fucking twenty.
Of those deaths, 94% of them were transfem/ trans women and over 80% were black and brown people. Many were sex workers or homeless. Lots of them were degendered by the media and police in death. Even more deaths are unreported either due to degendering or their bodies not being found. So many of these people (again, mostly black and brown transfem's) are violated and horrifically tortured by their tormentors.
If your discussion of transphobia doesn't include black and trans people, if you cannot recognize this simple fact, then you're no ally to the trans community.
Community means you look out and support those that are the most vulnerable; it means you show the fuck up and speak the fuck up when you hear racist shit. It means you ABSOLUTELY DO NOT call the cops on a homeless person, it means you look out for those that have less than you, the disadvantaged and disenfranchised. White queers have white privilege! We still benefit from our whiteness (especially in the US) so fucking use that shit!
Get your heads outta your asses and actually be a part of your community instead of whinging and whining and wringing your hands helplessly while ignoring the ACTUAL dangers trans people face.
I'm gonna close this with a quote from a friend of África Garciá that perfectly encapsulates how the world views transfem's.
“A lot of trans women are on the streets and are made invisible because many people believe that their lives are worthless,” LeQueen, a trans artist and friend of García’s, told the paper. “They don’t give them the ‘spotlight’ that they deserve, and those men take advantage of that. They think, If I kill her here, no one is going to care.”
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Advice For The Heartbroken
: Oh? Hello, Jaune.
Jaune: Hello, Mrs... Miss Schnee. I'd offer my condolences, but I don't think you'd truly care for that.
Willow: No, not at all.
Jaune: I will say you are looking better; you, and this house seems more lively. Like a new wave of fresh air has blown in.
Willow: Yes, the oppressive aura that, Jacques carried about him has been lifted, bringing new life to my family, and house. Speaking of looking better; I must say I like your new outfit; Is that a, Specialist uniform?
Jaune: Ahh... yes... Yes it is. I recently became a member of the, Specialist as of, Winter's recommendations.
Willow: Oh congratulations, Jaune! That uniform suit you perfectly.
Jaune: Thank you, Miss Schnee.
Willow: Please, Jaune I already told you, you can call me, Willow. No more of this, Miss Schnee business.
Jaune: Alright then... Willow...
Willow: See, that wasn't too hard. Now then, please take a seat, I assume you're here not because of your new position. Perhaps about the odd circumstances around, Jacques's suspicious death?
Jaune: Thank you... and, uhhh no. I'm not aware of anything in regards to, Jacques's death, and the investigation. I'm a, Huntsman, not a detective.
Willow: Thought I should ask; Winter is unable to tell me anything. Something about the: 'Confidentiality pertaining to the ongoing investigation pertaining to the suspicious death of, Jacques Schnee.'
Jaune: In essence: No.
Willow: Precisely~!
Willow: Now then, since you are not here to talk about, Jacques death, what can I help you with, Jaune?
Jaune: Well... Since you mentioned, Winter... I need some help with her...
Willow: Oh, what is wrong? Did my daughter do something to you?
Jaune: Uhhh... kinda...?
Willow: Kinda... what?
Jaune: Winter likes me...
Willow: So? You are a well mannered, polite, respectable young man. There is very little to hate about you, Jaune. So of course she likes you.
Jaune: Uhhh... no, not that... Winter likes me... As in, like-likes me...
Willow: ...
Willow: S-Seriously...?
Jaune: She's blushed in front of me. She's laughed with me, not at me. She's smiled at me. She gave me this sash on my waist. And, I swear on my mother's life; she winked, and said 'tee-hee' at me!
Willow: Holy shit... Winter does like-like you... I can't believe this...
Jaune: Neither can I.
Willow: I picked a wrong time to stop drinking...
Willow: Okay... you have my permission.
Jaune: ...
Jaune: Wha...?
Willow: You have permission to date my daughter.
Jaune: Oh... thank you... B-But, that isn't why I'm here... kinda...?
Willow: Oh? Then what is it, Jaune?
Jaune: I have... absolutely no experience when it comes to romance. If you ask, Weiss about my attempts to, 'whoo' her, you'd whinge in shame at my antics...
Willow: Yes, I do believe I remember hearing, Weiss complaining about that.
Jaune: ...
Jaune: I... I like, Winter... I'm not entirely sure how much I care for her, but I know I do care for, Winter... If there is a possibility of us having a relationship, I want to try... I don't want to miss this chance... not again... So, I came to you to... ask for advice.
Willow: Advice? Why me, couldn't you ask one of your friends for advice?
Jaune: Ha! Ruby has no experience when it comes to love. Weiss, has poor taste in men, and we have that whole history together, not to mention it's about her sister! I can't possibly talk about this with her.
Willow: That would be an ill-advised endeavor to take.
Jaune: Nora, and Ren are out of the question. Nora is pinning for, Ren so hard she might as well become a pine tree. And, people call me dense?! They should take a look at, Ren! A woman is literally fawning over him, and he doesn't see a damn thing!
Willow: Oh, she liked him, I never notice...
Jaune: Don't even get me started on, Blake, and Yang's thing.
Willow: Oh please do, I do love gossip~!
Jaune: Oh, that's right, woman love to gossip; My mother, and sisters love to gossip too.
Jaune: Okay... Blake, and Yang are stuck in this will they won't they situation upon which I don't think they should, because dating, Blake would end up being a part of a very toxic relationship. I mean... Blake is a coward, she has a habit of running away from her problems, and dumping them on others, and refusing to take the blame. Not to mention her past dating experience is horrible! Her first lover was Adam Taurus! A psychotic race supremist terrorist! And, a fanatical lesbian who like, Adam, tried to kill her! Twice!
Willow: Oh~? Now isn't this juicy~!
Jaune: Yang has abandonment issues! Her mother abandoned her when she was a child! It would destroy her if, Blake ran away, again! My sister is a lesbian who is married. and in a loving relationship. I told them about, Blake, and Yang, and they looked horrified at the thought of the two of them dating. Not, because its a human, and faunas relationship, because they know how toxic it could be!
Willow: Oh my~! Even the lesbians are looking down on them~! Now things are getting interesting~!
Jaune: Since I don't get involved in their conversations, I just observe. And, I don't like what I'm seeing... Is there a chance they get together, yes. Is there a chance it will be a healthy relationship, maybe... But, I wouldn't bet money on it.
Willow: Ohh~! It's so much fun hearing all the juicy gossip! I feel like I'm a teenager again~!
Jaune: So... I said, I have no experience with dating, so I've come to you for advice. I know you had a toxic relationship with your ex-husband...
Willow: That's an understatement...
Jaune: But, even before that there must have been moments that were happy? Or, the very least you can tell me the does, and don'ts of a relationship. Mostly the don'ts all thing considered...
Willow: ...
Jaune: I know you didn't have a good relationship... But, of everyone I know... You're the only one I can ask.
Willow: Couldn't you ask your sister? She's married after all.
Jaune: Yeah, I could ask my sister how she got together with her wife, but...
Willow: She has no idea how it happened?
Jaune: No clue whatsoever.
Willow: So you came to me for advice.
Jaune: Yeah, I did.
Willow: Listen, Jaune... I do not understand my daughter well enough to give you advice when it comes to having a relationship with her. I estranged myself from my children when I escaped, Jacque's abuse to the bottle. I am in the middle of trying to rebuild our relationship. I'm learning who my children are, and plan to become. So, I can't tell you what you could do to enter a relationship with her... But, if what you said is true, that if you're making my daughter laugh, and smile. Then you should be together, or at the very least, give it a chance. And, don't regret not taking the chance.
Jaune: ...
Jaune: I don't want to lose that chance again...
Willow: Again?
Jaune: Okay... for now I'll just play it by ear, and see where it will take me... hopefully somewhere nice... Thank you, Willow.
Willow: My pleasure, Jaune. I hope the best for you two. I wouldn't mind you becoming my son in law.
Jaune: O-Oh... Thank you... Now, I best get going there is work to be done.
Willow: Do, Say hello to, Whitely before you leave. He's been wanting to talk to you again.
Jaune: Oh? I'll go do that. Goodbye, Willow.
Willow: Goodbye, Jaune.
Willow: ...
Willow: I wish you the best of luck, Jaune...
#rwby#jaune arc#yang xiao long#blake belladonna#weiss schnee#ruby rose#nora valkyrie#lie ren#willow schnee#jacques schnee#friends au
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“What’s your costume gonna be?” You asked Eddie brightly - excited to hear what your super geeky new boyfriend would choose. Could be horror themed, or fantasy probably - he wasn’t as into Sci Fi as you. But you were sure It would be EPIC. But, you were wrong.
“Only little kids dress up for halloween.” Eddie said.
“Is that so?” You laughed. “Is dress up for babies??”
“I love that you dress up for Renn faire and when we are messing around... but - It’s absolutely a fact that Halloween is for little kids. Unless it’s college kids throwing kegger or some shit??? Even they phone it in with cat ears or a sheet-toga.”
“Ah. So this was a waste of time.” You pulled a hanger out from his closet with your costume on it. You never phoned in a costume in your life. Eddie’s eyes went wide. “ I should pop this back into storage?”
“Whaaat is that?” Eddie hopped over a box to get close. His hands out and grabby.
“It’s my costume.” you grinned.
“You’re really gonna wear that??” his voice got a little higher, he got super close. He started kissing your temple, your cheek, running a hand from your shoulder down to your lower back.
“I’m not gonna wear it if you won’t dress up, too.”
“What’s the ... lower half look like - you wearing jeans or...??”
“What lower half?” You held the costume in front of you. Waved it a bit. What there was of it. Without makeup and your wig. Just a taste of what you were planning - what you knew Eddie would get worked up about.
He moaned and ran a hand through his hair.
“Fuuuuuuck, you’re gonna look so go-oo-oo-od!”
“Not by myself I’m not.”
“Sweetheart, no one else is gonna be dressed up.” There was a little whinge there that you knew meant you’d already won.
“Yes. They are - Robin said this was a costume party.”
And that’s how you got Eddie to dress up as a modern day vampire:
gathering his hair into a pony,
putting him in a button up (but only buttoning the bottom 3 buttons),
doing his eyeliner and putting a smidge of crimson on his lower lip.
He didn’t even grumble - but then -- he knew he looked hot.
#eddie munson#fanfic is life#stranger things#eddie munson x reader#it’s Halloween o’clock somewhere#eddie munson fluff
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wow having just watched charles’ race recap my god is there clearly a difference between pr focussed drivers and racing focussed drivers. whilst norris is off threatening to ‘end his friendship with max’ like a 12 year old because max “ruined his race”, charles goes over the incident with checo & oscar, gives them both grace, and calls it a racing incident. the maturity levels are clear, huh? even though that incident killed his race and kept him out of the points, and I firmly believe he could’ve challenged for the win if not for it, he doesn’t call them ‘desperate’ or ‘reckless’ and moves on. in the words of david tennant, i don’t wish I’ll on him as a person, i just wish he’d shut up.
It shows a clear difference in maturity levels between drivers Lando's race WAS ruined by that collision with Max, just like Charles' was ruined by that collision with Checo and Oscar. However, as you said, Charles was disappointed and threw slight shade at Checo ("he knows that three cars going into turn 1 doesn't work"), but was quick to call it a racing incident and more or less laugh it off and was eager to move on from this weekend and set his sights on Silverstone. Lando, on the other hand, was absolutely desperate for an overtake he couldn't get done and then went on a very bizarre PR trip making sure everybody knew that his friendship with Max was 'over'. I have to question why Lando took it so personally, they're all racing drivers? Surely their job is to race? Most other racing drivers are unanimous on the fact that doesn't exist once the helmet goes on.
The complete audacity of Lando as well to whine about Max having around 70 wins and well, there's a reason why he has that many–because he's not going to cave to the guy in P2 just because he's his friend. Lando today honestly sounded like an entitled spoiled child in the media pen, whining and whinging at the fact that his friend Max won't let HIM have a turn on the top step of the podium.
#anti lando norris#sigh not as a concept just when winning and as a racing driver ygm#again love fanon lando can't stand canon lando#max verstappen#austrian gp 2024#asks#anon
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Was inspired by bambygourl’s fanart and a TikTok I saw. Dressing up as Roger and Jessica Rabbit for a costume party with Lucifer. I think he’d be all pouty and grumpy about dressing up as such a silly character and not a suave charming character. Especially since he’d take a look at the white button up, red trousers with suspenders, and blue bow tie with yellow polka-dots and see it as a fashion nightmare XD. And don’t get him started on the bunny ears and tail. Tho his mood is sufficiently uplifted when he sees the reader dressed up as Jessica Rabbit. Low cut red dress with a slit and all. Just imagine pulling on his suspenders or bow tie for a kiss, getting lipstick on his mouth and face, and cooing over how adorable and handsome her honey-bunny is.
I've been meaning to get to this request ever since I saw it because it is just so good. I'm definitely biased for anything Lucifer related but god this is just so cute. Anon, your brain is outstanding. I love pouty Lucifer. If you still have that tiktok on hand or ever come across it again, do you think you could send it my way .ᐣ
You didn't include what kind of request you wanted though, and my default is HCs -- but I couldn't help but throw in a little drabble based on them, too. Or, at least I intended it to be a drabble .ᐣ It got away from me, haha.
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀Lucifer and Female Reader Dressing
⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ Up As Roger and Jessica Rabbit ~
Lucifer is initially thrilled when you bring up wanting to attend a famous yearly costume party in Pride with him. A chance to show you off sounds amazing, and he's great with costumes. Just the thought of you two matching is enough to get him excited.
You seemed just as excited as he was -- in fact, he was even more excited when you told him you'd already had something in mind .ᐟ He's pestering you to tell him just what the costumes were as soon as the plan leaves your lips, but much to his displeasure, you refuse, saying you want to keep it a surprise.
You'd even managed to resist the very strongest puppy-dog eyes and pout. Impressive. He usually succeeds in getting his way with that one -- who could ever say no to that face .ᐣ Having exhausted his options, he sighs his defeat.
Well, nearly exhausted his options. He was entirely too ready to pretend that you'd won and snoop through your closet the second you walked away. Apparently his quick glance at said closet had given him away though, and with a quick deadpan stare alongside a scary sounding ❛ don't you dare. ❜ has his feet rooted to the floor.
Did his poker face really suck so bad .ᐣ He's definitely practicing it in the mirror later.
Ultimately, though, he trusts you completely and your choice in matching outfits is no exception, so he allows it to drop for now. There's still a few more days until the party, but that time could be spent much more productively by your side rather than whining about clothing.
That is, until the day of the party comes around and you bring out his outfit. You'd never seen Lucifer's jaw drop quite like that before and it takes iron will to stop yourself from giggling at his present state.
He doesn't understand the reference. Lucifer regrets his past decision to give humanity free will. It's obvious, even if he never seems to say it outright. He had given out such a precious gift and so much of humanity chose to abuse it, to be nothing but cruel. Looking at sinners and by extension humanity is just a terrible reminder of what he'd done, so he prefers to avoid it whenever possible. This quite often includes the media of the living realm -- he's never even heard about the movie, forget seeing it.
So without the full context, all he knows is that you've just handed him an absolutely atrocious outfit -- and to make it worse, you expect him to go out in it .ᐣ Seriously, he whinges, red overalls with a blue bow .ᐣ Rabbit ears .ᐣ And to make it worse, you won't even show him your outfit until he gets dressed .ᐟ He can't believe you're laughing.
He sounds completely and totally ridiculous, in your defense. Seriously, has he seen his regular outfit .ᐣ He looks absolutely stunning, sure -- but he also looks like he walked right out of a circus.
It says a lot, though, that despite the complete and total pity party he's currently throwing himself, he's beginning to shuffle into the costume anyway. He's grumbling the whole way, but the fact that he just doesn't have it in him to say no to you warms your heart.
You had been so, so eager about this party, and the way your eyes had shined like stars when you told him had long since burned itself into his heart.
wc ; 1.2k
His seemingly endless complaints had tapered off ever so slightly when you shimmied his grasp off of the ruby red suspenders sagging unbuttoned over his chest. By the time you take the fabric into your own hands his protests faded to little more than a mumble under his breath, and with the very first snap of a button in place under your gentle touch he'd quieted completely. Where a look of exasperation had reflected off his face seconds prior, in its place now is that of silent awe, his gaze trained on your every action. The gesture of intimacy is enough to leave Lucifer somewhat choked up, his heart still not used to receiving such acts of adoration and kindness. You tie the cornflower blue fabric adorned with tiny yellow spots into a bow to accentuate the costume and cover his hands briefly with your own as you slip the gloves onto his fingers.
Not twenty minutes had passed, and he finds his attitude regarding the ensemble shifting with every second you take to assist him into it. Each and every part of it looks ridiculous at best, but the thought of you picking it out solely for him has him warming up to the idea.
Declaring your work complete, you raise your grasp ever so slightly, palms holding each of his cheeks close, your thumbs rubbing soft little circles below his eyes. Your affections are sufficient only when finished with a kiss placed on his forehead. ❛ I'm going to go get dressed, okay .ᐣ No peeking. I promise I'll be right back. ❜
The way his wrists on instinct dart out to catch yours to bring you close to him again as you pull back nearly got you. He's extended his lips in a pout once more. You hate to leave him quite so sad looking but you know he'll appreciate what you have planned enough for it to be worth it.
Bathroom door shutting closed behind you, there's the smallest bit of lingering regret that he can't help you to get dressed like you had for him. The outfit itself takes you barely a few moments to slip into -- it's the makeup that requires precision, time and effort. His pacing around the bedroom is audible, impatient steps sounding into stomps, the sounds causing you to choke on a laugh. You need a steady hand for your eyeshadow and that's hard to maintain during an act quite as cute as this.
Nonetheless, your look is finished within half an hour and therefore Lucifer is put out of his misery. It's not a second after the door clicks open that his attention is caught, snapped to the light peaking out of the doorway. Stepping into the small hallway, your eyes are met with his own -- and the way his pupils widen as soon as he gets a glance of your dress makes both your efforts and his complaining worthwhile. His gaze takes you in from top to bottom, each detail enchanting him further. The dress so perfectly hugging your curves is crimson to match him and absolutely breathtaking -- and are you walking towards him .ᐣ Your strut does well to accentuate the slit stitched into the leg, your thigh tantalizing in its display.
Finally reclaiming your place beside him, one of your fingers reaches out, finding purchase under his chin -- and when you tilt his head up you swear you saw his eyes flash red. ❛ Hello, my darling husband, ❜ you coo, sending his already overloaded brain into a frenzy. Husband . . .ᐣ You wanted . . .ᐣ With him, really . . .ᐣ And although he's beginning to put the pieces together and clue in that such a term of endearment was part of your match, you seemed so happy to say it. He snaps his focus back onto just how stunning you look tonight, but the idea has firmly implanted itself into the depths of his mind.
Back into the present time, his hands have begun to roam -- he wants to commit every detail of you to memory, and that includes the feeling of your dresses fabric under his fingertips. His grasp is met with your own, for it's not long before you're pulling the straps of his suspenders, tugging him forward into a kiss. By the time he's recovered from his surprise enough to reciprocate, though, you're already beginning to pull away. He chases your lips with a whine but you've already moved on, pressing a kiss first to his cheek and then to his forehead. It's only when you offer him a small compact mirror does he understand -- each of your kisses has left behind a little bit of the lipstick you oh so painstakingly applied. Your marks on his face have left him entranced, desperately craving more.
A gasp rips itself from those same cherry red lips in surprise -- you weren't expecting him to summon forth his tail, much less wrap it around your midsection and use it to bring you closer. ❛ Kiss me again, ❜ He pleads, desperate and breathy. ❛ Anything for my honey bunny, ❜ you chime, matching the mark on his left cheek with one on the right. ❛ You just look so cute, ❜ between each kiss is another offering of praise and compliments, the blush left in your wake matching excellently. ❛ Who's my handsome bunny .ᐣ ❜
Your multitude of kisses has left Lucifer stunned and looking nothing short of angelic -- even more so than usual. You're fully intending on giving him several more, leaning in to do just that when the wall mounted clock besides you chimes a new hours arrival, alerting you to the time. ❛ Oh, dear. I'm very sorry, Mr. Rabbit, but I'm afraid we simply must be going. We don't want to be late, do we .ᐣ ❜
Fixing your lipstick takes all of a few seconds, leaving you free to grab a makeup wipe off the pouch resting atop your vanity and wipe all of the stains you'd adorned his face with away. A snap of his wrist catches yours just inches from his face, however, halting your plans in their tracks. Confused, you look to him for an explanation, a soft ❛ leave them. please .ᐣ ❜ being all he offers you. ❛ You're going to go to the party like this, love .ᐣ ❜ to which he nods sagely. He can't bear to part with them -- not when the lipstick marks are yours, not when they declare proudly that he is yours.
❛ If you say so, honey. ❜ You can't deny that the prospect leaves your heart fluttering. A grand, golden portal appears with a simple snap of his fingers and he takes your arm, now linked with his own in an attempt to usher you forward. He can't wait to show you off, to watch as other demons eyes glow green as they stare his way. You stay still, though, prompting him to look back at you with an air of confusion. It's then that you lean close, whispering ❛ be a good bunny and there will be more where that came from. too bad we'll have to wait until we come home, hmm .ᐣ ❜
Suddenly Lucifer can't wait for this party to be over.
I still can't believe I'd originally intended this to be 100 words and it ended up over a thousand. I can't help it, I'm so weak for anything Lucifer related. I'm half tempted to write an absolutely filthy post party part 2. If there's enough demand for it .ᐣ I just might.
As always, let me know what you think .ᐣ Hearing back from you guys keeps me motivated ~
#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel#lucifer x reader#lucifer morningstar x reader#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lucifer#admin kitty#i want to fuck this old man so bad#sorry#no im not#not at all#girl help this prompt is actually rotting my brain#i will forever and always write lucifer as a loverboy.#always.#cause he is#he's so good old fashioned lover boy coded#ok im done now#lover boy lucifer morningstar#hes such a wifeguy#it kills me
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"saying white trans women is a dogwhistle" is something ive primarily seen being said and agreed with here by white women. possibly just because this site is very white so there's more white women to see it.
when transfeminism doesn't specifically focus on race it defaults to white just like every other kind of feminism. "saying white is a dogwhistle" is slightly less of a problem than the racism that comes from this site being like 80% white. it's used in transmisogynistic ways (what isn't) but if i primarily see white women using it, my takeaway is that once again white feminists are using it to avoid talking about their culpability in racism.
hey anon? here's evidence it's being used as a dogwhistle to dismiss any trans women of color who disagree with you as white: you are doing it RIGHT NOW. it would take you a matter of seconds to find trans women of color on this website in my notes posting this same stuff. i wouldn't even feel confident or comfortable saying it were it not how many non-white trans women have personally flagged me down and told me that they are constantly dismissed as "privileged white trans women" whenever they discuss transmisogyny. there are trans women of color who fucking liked my reply to your anon even, go check!!
considering that most of the transfeminism on this website -- including most that i value & reblog -- is being spearheaded by trans women of color so much that that are barely even any white trans girls identifying as transfeminists in the first place, i actually disagree that the majority of transfeminism just defaults to white women's experiences, though i do absolutely agree that the voices of white trans women dominate most conversations about transmisogyny in general, and this is obviously a dire problem that needs to be addressed.
the point of this dogwhistle is to dismiss transfeminism as just privileged white people whinging about privileged white people problems. it is what terfs do, it is what transandrobros do, and it's what you're doing, whether it reflects your own interests or not 🤷♀️
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Chapter 26 - Alternate Meeting
The fresh fall of snow had made the streets quiet, and cold. They had come out tonight, despite the snow - and much whingeing from John - to meet Lestrade for dinner at a pub in the centre of town. A catch up before Christmas. Every year, they treated it like they would all be going on vacation and wouldn’t see each other for a couple of weeks, but invariably, each year, there were murders at Christmas time - heightened emotions and all of that - and they would be called back to help out. So the dinner meeting was usually unnecessary, but it was nice to take a moment away from death and casework, and acknowledge they had become more than just colleagues now. They were friends.
After a hearty meal which had helped warm them and polishing off two bottles of wine between the three of them, they had capped of the meal with a whisky. With a lovely buzz in their systems, there had been much laughter and merriment: stories of the mad cases they'd dealt with across the year, and memories of older cases too. Greg regaled them with tales of his cheating wife and how much fun his Christmas with the in-laws would be.
And finally, after three hours together, Sherlock and John had stepped back out into the cold together. The walk back to the tube station was a few blocks, but there weren't many cabs floating around, so they began to walk.
“I always feel for poor Lestrade. He seems to like being married and in a family, but she’s clearly still cheating and he knows about it. How is that happy?” Sherlock sighed heavily.
“Everyone has their own threshold, I suppose,” John said. “Sometimes being alone is the most painful way to live. I suppose he’d rather be with her than without her.”
“How romantic,” Sherlock scoffed sarcastically.
“When we met - you and I - I was so very lonely, returning from war, and while I don’t like people, I couldn’t bear being that alone. If we hadn’t…” John let the thought drift into the cold night air, his breath creating clouds of condensation.
“Do you ever think of other ways your life might have been?” Sherlock asked. “You know, if you hadn’t got shot? If you hadn’t joined the army at all? Or what if we hadn’t met? Do you think we might have still met at Barts - if you’d stayed on after studying? Not joined the army at all? Imagine that,” Sherlock chuckled.
John couldn’t help laughing at that too. He smiled, stopping the walk and turning to Sherlock. He had absolutely thought about this already - their possible alternate meeting and what it would have been like. He nodded. “Sometimes I think—"
It suddenly occurred to John, as the cold soaked into him, that he had left his gloves and scarf back at the pub. His lovely new warm things. He was about to turn back towards the way they had come, his words for Sherlock forgotten, when a voice stopped him in his tracks.
“John? John Watson?” The voice interrupted him. John sighed. Probably another bloody reporter. John made a decision in that instant to be on his best behaviour this time, and say nothing, as Sherlock had directed him he should from now on. He was never as calm and collected as Sherlock in these situations. Not for things like this. He spun around to flash the reporter a winning smile, just in case there was a camera at the ready again, but instead, he was greeted by a group of people, coming out of a nearby restaurant, at the front of which stood a tall man, quite respectably dressed. His salt and pepper hair coiffed perfectly, a sophisticated cashmere scarf twirled beautifully at his neck.
John froze to the spot. His brain was working overtime and he could feel Sherlock watching him for his response, but he felt like he was going to disappear into himself. His body felt disconnected. All the blood ran out of his face to his toes. He felt hot and cold all at once. He could hear Sherlock say his name, beside him, but it sounded like he was miles away.
“It is you. John!” the man said, rushing forward.
“Alex?” John choked out, knowing full well who it was. His voice sounded weak and raspy.
He felt Sherlock tense beside him at the mention of the name. John absolutely regretted having told Sherlock about this, now.
“John.” The man rushed to him and hugged him tight, although John didn’t move a muscle. His hands didn’t wrap around and reciprocate. “How have you been?” he asked, as he stepped back again.
“Fine,” John said stiffly.
Alex looked next to him and took in Sherlock’s equally stylish figure. John made no moves to introduce them so he held his hand out. “Hi, I’m Alex.”
“Sherlock Holmes.”
There was a moment of silence and then: “Oh good lord, the detective fellow? Oh, of course. I had heard about your blog, come to think of it,” he directed at John. “I’d clean forgot about it. Guys it’s Sherlock Holmes - the detective!” he called out to his friends who all murmured and seemed excited. “I’ve read about you both in the papers.”
“Ah. Funny. I know nothing about you,” Sherlock said coldly, pointedly.
John still made no move to talk. The air was thick between them all. He knew Sherlock would have deduced plenty about Alex - and him - just by standing there in silence.
Alex nodded, the encounter now incredibly forced and awkward. He was definitely assessing the two of them standing together. But it was clear John wasn’t going to speak. “Well. I won’t keep you both. It was just such a surprise… I had to come over. Lovely to meet you,” he said to Sherlock. He reached out and touched John’s arm. “So good to see you. You’re looking well,” he added in a slightly condescending tone. John’s spine straightened slightly. “I should get back.” He paused, seemingly hoping for John to still say something.
Sherlock also looked to John waiting for him to say more, though he had apparently become comatose, and then offered a stiff smile to Alex, in place of John’s response.
And with that, Alex returned to his friends and got in a cab. The street was silent again. But John remained still, silent, staring into the distance where Alex had been moments earlier.
“John—“
“Don’t,” John warned. His voice was flat, and cold and angry.
Sherlock stood beside him in absolute silence for as long as he could but John didn’t move a muscle.
“Sooo… Alex was…”
John sucked in a breath at the sound of the name. He turned to look at Sherlock, his eyes so lost all of a sudden, searching Sherlock’s face for something, for some way to escape this. He couldn't find a single way to start this conversation comfortably. So before Sherlock could speak, John rushed away, without a word, crossing the road and moving at quite a pace.
“Not a woman then,” Sherlock sighed to himself, processing the information.
The big relationship in John Watson’s life, that could have become marriage-and-kid-worthy… and apparently broke his heart… was not with a woman at all. Alex was a man. A slightly older man, too, if Sherlock’s judgement was right. And, assuming it was pre-Afghanistan, it would have been back before marriage was legalised.
All the pieces were falling into place and Sherlock felt almost sick with understanding.
“John!” He called after his friend, but John had already disappeared around a corner into the cold night. Sherlock let out a heavy sigh and took off after him.
@lisbeth-kk @helloliriels @totallysilvergirl @221beloved @safedistancefrombeingsmart
@givemesherbet-blog-blog @naefelldaurk @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @peanitbear
@starlitkeys @lumilama @yorkiepug @talkativeanxiousturtle @kettykika78
@kittenmadnessandtea @whatnext2020 @egregiously-chuffed @chriscalledmesweetie @catlock-holmes
@battledress @kholkate @randomquadballpun @little-owls-things
@sillygirlsmindpalace @oetkb12 @odditiesandeverything @johnlockficclub @rainstarboii @bheadhe
@hospitableasacactus @wssh13 @br-nz @solarmama-plantsareneat @givemesherbet-blog-blog
@dw91165 @pileofstardust2106 @moonkeller @surprisinglyokay @r4venlyn @tropelovingpainter
@westandforships @fuck-off-watson-rp @notjustamumj @melodious-me @sherlocke3d
@otter-von-bismarck @silvergoldsea @calaisreno
#sherlockbbc#bbc sherlock#johnlock#fanfic#ao3 fanfic#angsty#sherlock fandom#john watson#sherlock holmes#holidaze2024#December prompts
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@jegulus-microfic / feb 26 / bed / 576 words
“No fucking way.”
It took James a few seconds to place the voice. He was barely awake, only just aware of the warm body flushed against his own, the eucalyptus scent his nose was buried in, and Barty Crouch Jr, who he thought was trying to whisper, but was really just hissing words louder than most peoples’ standard volume. He pushed his face deeper into soft hair, feeling Regulus pull James’ arms in closer to himself where he wrapped them around him.
“Are you seeing this shit, Ev?” Barty continued, and James struggled to resist groaning. He wanted nothing more than to be left alone, basking in the blissful feeling of waking up next to Regulus for as long as physically possible, but he knew that his chances of being left alone would decrease greatly if he showed any sign of wanting it. He didn’t know Regulus’ friends very well, but you pick up a few things about people when obsessed with their best friend, and Barty and Evan seemed like the kind of guys who would cut their own arms off if they knew it’d so much as slightly inconvenience you.
“I am,” Evan confirmed, mock horror blending with amusement.
“They’re shirtless.” He practically gasped, and James thought Barty sounded far too offended for someone he’d seen sticking his tongue down Evan’s throat many times over breakfast.
“I can’t wait to tell the girls about this.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Barty said, and the two lead into a long conversation about just how hilarious Dorcas and Pandora’s reactions would be. James was seconds away from cursing both of them into oblivion for disturbing his peace when Regulus shifted from in front of him. He let out a distressed noise, gripping tighter to stop him from getting out of bed, and Evan and Barty fell silent for the first time since waking, seeming to finally notice that the pair they were talking about were awake.
“Let go, James,” Regulus mumbled, voice still not fully recovered from sleep. James just whined again. “I’ll be right back, okay?”
James huffed, still not entirely happy to let Regulus leave, but loosened his grip nonetheless and felt as Regulus slowly got up.
“He’s never this bloody nice to us in bed.” Barty grumbled, quickly followed by a shout of “Ow, what the fuck!” and the sound of something being thrown across the dorm.
“If you value your lives, you’ll leave. Now.”
Evan and Barty just snorted. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Evan laughed, and Barty called “See you at breakfast!” as the door opened and they clambered out.
Regulus sighed as he stepped back closer to the bed again. “Sorry about them, they’re idiots.”
James finally opened his eyes to see Regulus looking down at him from above, light framing his head like a halo, as beautiful as ever. James, despite all his prior whingeing, couldn’t help but smile up at him. He could barely believe he was really here after so long of never letting himself imagine it, limiting the way his stomach would flip over the boy to impossible fantasies and daydreams, but there he was. The dungeons were much colder than the Gryffindor dorms, but James couldn’t deny the warmth that spread through him anyway.
So, when Regulus sat down on the edge of the bed and James rose to lean into his side, he knew he was telling the truth when he said, “S’alright baby, just glad to be here.”
#microfish tag#marauders#fanfiction#jegulus#regulus black#james potter#jegulus microfic#marauders fanfiction
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What are your thoughts on GRRM’s new notablog post on HOTD S2?
omg i'm sorry so i did not get notified that i had a few new asks, i didn't even see this until i logged in on desktop. tumblr eat shit smh.
ANYWAYS.
I actually agree with Xiran Jay Zhao, here, where they said this was a warning shot. It feels like a warning shot. Like a "hey I'm being nitpicky and pedantic now but if you think I won't go scroched earth you got another thing coming." I've seen so much "this is unprofessional" "this is annoying" "why is he complaining" and I think it is not only mind boggling to side with a corporation and the idiots running these shows (and we know I mostly like Condal and Hess, but come on Condal was the mastermind of Sansa Bolton why are we defending him right now!!), I think everyone is blowing his comments wildly out of proportion. He didn't take a dig at anyone but the writer's room and more specifically Ryan Condal, who he has had a working relationship with for well over a decade. He didn't shittalk any casting, he didn't shittalk any specific writers or directors except one of the main showrunners, he compliments the special effects, he has consistently had (and imo is careful) nothing but praise for the actors, even minor roles like Blood & Cheese. This was an incredibly milqtoast "please remember that every change has huge affects on the narrative later" critique and the people handwringing over his behavior are absolute losers, I'm sorry.
And beyond the fact that he didn't make any huge digs, I think this conversation also wildly ignores the way authors have no control over their own characters once they sign the rights over. They can be completely bamboozled by changes and they have no recourse to go "what the hell are you doing." And yet, signing your book's rights away (even if the production sits in developmental hell for decades) is usually what nets these author's the most money - GRRM surely makes a shitton off his books, but most authors get paid absolutely nothing even when they're wildly popular because of how book deals work now. Take, again, Xiran for example - Iron Widow was a huge runaway hit, a good and fresh take on this new boom of culturally based sff. And yet Xiran has talked about how they immediately set to work writing a middle grade novel because they desperately needed the money because they got paid 16k over two years for their runaway hit that made their publishers significantly more than 16k. I think George is not only mad for authors with less control than he has but also, obviously, for himself - I've said time and again, but I do think Dark Daenerys is where we are headed, and the fact that they completely botched showing it has got to smart. And if the ending for Dany is anything other than Jon killing her, that has got to smart too. So he watched these people fuck up his original series and push him completely out of that writer's room as they made more and more changes, and now he's watching s2 of HOTD and seeing some changes and getting some real bad vibes. It's not doomerism to think s3 is going to go massively off the rails when we have seasons 6-8 of the main show to show us just how off the rails it can go!
So anyways, that part of my rant over (and please believe me when I say I checked myself here because I could rant for hours about how it's genuinely so upsetting to see people call him unprofessional over this when not only did he write the fucking series, but he's lived in this series for three decades!!!!! this is his whole life, this is his legacy, of course he's feeling some type of way about how it's handled jesus christ on a cracker, there's people who have said worse about their mediocre nyt pushed bestsellers getting adapted badly!), when it comes to the actual meat of his post....I'm sorry idk how anyone is annoyed by this post because it was hilarious to me. He spent a whole blog post whinging about how Dead Baby #4 and Kingsguard Man #12 are gonna get cut out of the show. I think he framed it in that goofy way on purpose to hide how annoyed he is but you can see where the real annoyance lies - the changes to Helaena, losing one of his grisly death scenes, and being willfully mislead about potential changes to the plot. I think a lot of people missed those points but EYE am not a goofy ass like those people and I can guarantee you that Condal and HBO got the point too.
Of course, I do think he is also irked about Maelor and Ser Rickard's scenes being cut out. He wrote a long ass, highly meticulous, near unadaptable work, and I think when he handed the IP over he assumed he was giving it to people who would rise to the challenge and only make cuts when absolutely necessary. And that just clearly hasn't happened. Incredibly important characters get cut, main characters get their plots wildly changed for no reason, and people get personality transplants on a near constant basis for no other reason than D&D and Condal thought it would look cooler. I think if there was more dedication to keeping him in the loop and keeping true to the story, he wouldn't have bitched so much. But Hess is on record saying she doesn't feel loyal to the story and at a certain point, you reach your breaking point there and I think he has finally reached his. AND GOOD FOR HIM. LET THAT OLD MAN GO APESHIT THEY'VE COMPLETLEY FUCKED HIS WORLD UP!!!
#asks#grrm#anti D&D#anti ryan condal#anti hotd#like saying this as someone who liked the first season and thought the blacks part of this season was good#he is right to be mad and i can't believe i've seen so many people get angry over this#i would be so much more annoying if i was him
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I read the post about women romanticizing enemies to lovers, and it reminded me of other posts I've seen where women were also criticized for enjoying the "I can fix him" trope. I'm not a huge fan of either trope, but I've read stories that featured them and I've enjoyed them a lot. I also think that there's a fundamental misunderstanding as to why women romanticize and enjoy these tropes (which you also touched on really well in your response to badger mole's post). I think the appeal of the enemies to lovers and the "I can fix him trope" is that a woman's personality (her compassion, her fierceness, her honesty, and any other character traits really) are significant enough that the man she loves would honor these things about her and respect her enough to work to become a man that she would love. It's a power fantasy for women, just like you said, but it's also a significance fantasy. The woman is the most significant person in her own story and to the person she loves (which fits perfectly with Zutara, because I think Zuko taking that lightning bolt for Katara is him finally letting himself admit that she is important enough to him that he would die for her).
Tbh, I'm not much interested in whether someone is shipping something for the "right" reasons. There have been numerous studies done on why women like dark romance tropes and psychologically, they're perfectly healthy to engage in. But even if they weren't, who cares?
I can tell you for sure what ISN'T empowering. This idea that female characters need to be locked up in a little box and never experience anything in stories except "what's best for her." You don't see people talking about male characters this way.
Writing a woman in peril is also about her being significant, being the center of her own story. If people had this attitude about how female characters have to be kept safe about male characters, 99% of the stories in pop culture wouldn't exist.
Avatar the Last Airbender? Well, why does Aang have to suffer through being the hero AND the last of his kind? Wouldn't it be better if he just stayed at home?
Yes, this is absolutely me throwing shade at every stupid person who whinges about Firelady Katara because "whyyy does it have to be Katara???"
Why do you have to be talking? These opinions are so boring and very far from whatever attempt the person saying it is making at social justice.
Firelady Katara is not even my most favorite zutara trope but some people just can't stop having opinions about other people's opinions.
Speaking of the lightning bolt, though, to me the empowerment in that scene is that Katara gets to save Zuko after he sacrifices everything for her, which is playing the trope in a way that I don't think I've ever seen before. I don't much like the "guy sacrifices everything for the girl" trope because it emphasizes her helplessness, but the fact that Katara gets to assert that she is NOT helpless and she's NOT going to let Zuko die for her is awesome.
But people focus on different things that they find empowering or important because people are different and not everyone feels empowered by the same things. And that's okay.
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Home (Is Wherever I’m With You)
synop: meet the gang!
a/n: lololol not proof read. still getting used to writing. this is pt 2 —> pt 1 here
word count: 1.1k
“Yuuji! Arms up more!” Panda yelled from the sidelines, as he watched the pink haired boy get absolutely pounded into the ground by Maki’s weapon. “I’m- trying-!” He would yell in between getting whacked. “Not hard enough!” Kugisaki added, which made the second years laugh.
Megumi walked out to the field where the rest of his peers were watching the (one sided) battle. “What’s going on?” He asked the girl standing next to hom. “Itadori is getting his ass handed to him by Maki!” She laughed. “Oi!” The boy yelled from the field. “Why don't you get down here and try!” Nobara put her hand behind her head and looked away.
The ongoing battle was interrupted, much to Itadori’s relief, by a clapping Gojo, with Yaga standing beside him. “Well done my beautiful students!” He laughed. “Especially you Yuuji! I’ve never seen someone get taken down so quickly! That’s a real skill!” After he said that, Yaga promptly smacked him upside the head.
While Gojo was off whinging, Yaga took his glasses off and began to clean them. “Ahem. Students. I’ve decided that, with the upcoming Exchange event, you’ll need to be able to better deal with a… different… kind of cursed technique. Someone who excels at both close contact and their technique.”
Megumi knew where this was headed, as he could sense her cursed energy since the pair walked down. “What, are we getting a new teacher or something?” Maki sighed, hoping they would get someone a little less… well let's say childish. “Hey! I excel at both of those things!” Gojo continued to whine, but a new presence appeared behind him, giving another smack.
“Yeah dumbass, but he needs someone who doesn't act like a teenager!” You yelled. Yuuji audibly gasped. “It’s a woman! A beautiful one!” He accidentally said aloud.
“Sorry Yuuji! But this one’s taken!” He said, grabbing your face and peppering it with kisses. Yuuji and Nobara stood there with shocked looks on their faces. The three Second Years had met you previously, due to the fact that you had helped Yuta when he first came to Jujutsu Tech Megumi and Yaga both stood there with their hands on their faces.
“Ew Satoru, get off of me!” You said, shoving him away. “Someone… actually likes.. Gojo?” Nobara said, still in shock. “You know… you know him right?! You know his personality!” She asked. “Unfortunately so. But he can be polite when he wants to.” You replied, still shoving him away.
“But hi kids, I’m Y/N L/N. I’m another special grade sorcerer-" "And my girlfriend!” Gojo interrupted. “Yeah yeah you big goof. Now where’s- ah, there he is.” You said, locking eyes with the raven haired boy. “Megumi~” Gojo said, matter of factly, “Aren’t you gonna come give your mom a hug~” He teased. Megumi’s face turned bright red, and all the others went crazy. Now even the second years didn’t know that. “She's your mom?!” Panda yelled. “How could someone so beautiful give birth to someone like him?!” That one was definitely Kugisaki.
“Oh, oh! I’m not his actual mom! Gojo and I raised Megumi from when he was little!” You smiled, patting his head. “Y/N-san, I thought you were in Africa with Yuuta.” He asked. “Oh, I was, but the kid insisted I come back and help you all get ready for the exchange event. By the looks of it, I’m not sure there's much I can do. Aside from that one over there.” You said, pointing to Yuuji, who was still making heart eyes at you.
“HAHA, you hear that! She thinks you're dumb!” Nobara bent over laughing, while hitting Yuuji on the back. That seemed to take him out of his trance. “U-h! Y/N-san! Forgive me!” he said, bowing down. “You’re very beautiful!”
You didn’t know how to respond, but he seemed like a sweet kid. “Thank you, Itadori!” You patted his head. His face turned beet red. “EXCUSE ME!” The young boy said while running off.
You smiled while watching him hysterically run, occasionally tripping over his feet. You turned back to the group to speak. “Maki, nice to see you! How’s that sister of yours?” “Evil as ever.” She replied with a scowl. “Panda! Have you grown since I’ve seen you last!” “Maybe you’ve just gotten shorter, L/N-Sensei.” “Ah, Toge! Look at you! You changed your hair!” “Salmon!” The boy smiled.
You stuck your hand out, making eye contact with Nobara. She returned the handshake. “L/N-san! It’s not too late! You can still run from Gojo-Sensei! There’s plenty of attractive sorcerers that aren’t crazy!” She said, leaning in. “Yeah, but they aren’t the strongest like I am!” Gojo smirked. “Now run along children, we have adult things to talk about! Except you, Megumi! Y/N and I want to catch up!”
(flashback)
“Gumi, you have to eat something!” Gojo sighed as he placed an assortment of fruits in front of the younger boy. “Don’t wanna.” He said, going back to coloring the dogs on his paper. Just as the white haired man was going to beg again, he heard the door unlocking, making both boys swivel their heads around.
“We’re back!” Tsumiki yelled. “And we brought treats!” Gojo ran over to you, panicking. “Y/N, my beautiful girlfriend, please tell that demon child to eat!” You glanced over at your adult boyfriend, who was wearing a sanrio apron and his signature round glasses.
“Satoru… it’s hard to take you seriously when you look like Hello Kitty…” Gojo pouted. “Please my love, he doesn’t listen to a word I say! He only listens to you and ‘Miki! He hates men!” He whined. You looked over at the smaller boy once more, who was happily eating his strawberries next to his sister.
“He seems to be doing fine.” You shrugged. Gojo began to fake cry. “You’re so mean to me, Megumi!” Megumi didn’t spare Gojo a glance. “You’re annoying.”
-
As soon as the kids were asleep, you plopped down in bed next to Gojo, who was reading a book, titled ‘How to make your kid like you’. “That book isn’t going to do anything, you know.” You said, still face down on the pillow.
“But he’s so mean!” Gojo whisper yelled, placing the book down. “He’s just… special. One day he’ll be grateful for what you did. But for now, let him be a moody pre-teen.” You finally lay on your side, facing the beautiful blue eyes you’ve grown to love.
“Y/N, he needs friends. He needs a best friend, and it’s gonna be me!” You threw a pillow at his face, sighing. “He’ll be fine. You didn’t meet Suguru until you started High School.”
“Yeah, well, look at how that turned out.” You looked up for a second, thinking of what to say next. “We still have Shoko, right? And Nanami. Well, me more than you, but you get the point.”
Gojo sighed. “Why does everyone hate me.” He pouted. “They don’t hate you, Satoru. They just don’t get you like I do.” You said, gently placing a hand on his face. He brought his closer to you, until your foreheads were touching.
“Promise you’ll love me forever?” He asked. “Forever and ever, and even a but after that.” You gave him a small peck on the cheek. “Y/N… I have to tell you something important…” He said.
“Yes, Satoru?”
Instead of speaking, he sneezed on you.
“HAHA, I GOT YOU!”
“I’M SLEEPING ON THE COUCH.”
#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu megumi#jujustu kaisen#jjk gojo#jjk x reader#jjk#megumi x mom! reader#jjk x you#jjk megumi#megumi fushiguro#gojo sensei#jjk yuuji#jjk spoilers
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Still working on the "No Seriously, If Crowley and Aziraphale Ever Did Have Sex, They'd Have So Many Weird Conversations About It First" fic
"You already have a penis?" Aziraphale demanded, his hands on his hips. "Since when?"
Crowley tried to recall. "Turn of the nineteenth, I think?" he ventured. There'd been a fountain, and a lot of wine, and Jane challenging him to see which of them could hit the fish statue in the middle.* Afterwards he'd kept it — it was fun, being able to take a piss if you felt like it. Not to mention you could stir up a lot of trouble in public toilets if you were in a mood.**
"Really?" Aziraphale looked halfway between surprised and intrigued. "Don't you find it a bit — floppy?"
"Eh, a bit," Crowley admitted. "But they do amazing things with underpants these days."
Aziraphale laughed, the startled hiccough he gave sometimes when he wasn't quite ready to be out of his sulk. It was one of Crowley's favorite noises. "Very well," he said, adjusting his waistcoat. "Let's have a look."
"What? No," said Crowley. He'd been looking forward to showing off his cock at some point, but Aziraphale was eyeing him like the Queen about to inspect the troops.
"Why not?" Aziraphale whinged, his lower lip puckering dangerously near a pout. "We're going to have to take our clothes off when we have sex. Unless — actually, I think that's on the list of kinks, you know, sex with your clothes on, but it seems terribly awkward, not to mention you'd have to get everything cleaned afterward. Although I do have a rather good 'dry cleaner,'" he made the inverted commas with his fingers and everything, "Who's an absolute miracle worker." He paused. "Well, not a real one. At any rate, come along." And he gestured at Crowley's crotch.
Crowley, who'd had millennia of practice with Aziraphale's careening monologues, was still halfway through unbuckling his belt before his brain caught up. "I'm not pulling my cock out in the middle of your bookshop," he said — with absolutely perfect timing, since Muriel chose that moment to come bustling in.
They stood frozen for a moment, blinking at both of them as they clutched at the doorframe. "I think I, erm, heard a… noise?" They smiled, and backed out slowly. "I should go. And check, on the noise, because noises are sometimes indicators of—" Whatever else they were saying was lost with the slamming of the door.
"Small mercies," Aziraphale huffed, and wriggled his fingers; the sign on the door flipped to "CLOSED" and the door locked with a pointed flourish. "Now then!"
*Neither of them had, and it had nearly gotten them arrested, all the moreso since they'd been in Spain at the time.
**With or without an anus.
#good omens fic#ficcage of interest#crowley's musings about the time he considered getting snake penises#(yes snakes have two dicks)#are definitely going to be referenced#so many wonderful sexy fics about these guys but what *I* want to bring#is the Weird Energy#ineffable motherfuckers#good grade in sex fic
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Okay bit of a different post for the finale than my usual meme rant because I’m just done with everything today
Fandom is my safe space. It has been since I figured out what the internet was. And frankly I’ve been having a really shitty time recently.
And what the OFMD fandom is doing rn is frankly making me really fucking pissed
I understand being upset at character deaths. I understand being upset over budget cuts or lack of character development that you wished for. I understand being upset over the direction a show has taken.
But the way people are literally ABUSING the writers of a show that has been GROUNDBREAKING makes me sick.
YES! The budget cuts messed up the pacing and character development. You can think of Izzy’s death whatever you want. But to drag down a show, that has done so much for the queer community. With writers and actors and crew who have done their absolut best to make us feel seen and heard and to give us a mainstream story which is filled with queer joy. It just sets my teeth on edge.
I liked the finale. I cried over Izzy and wish HBO were less of a cunt firm and had given the show more episodes. I wish Ed and Stede had talked and I wish we had more episodes.
But I was overall happy. Because the main couple had their cheesy, happy moments. They literally said they loved each other for fucks sake. And everyone is fucking focused on Izzy and not even talking about the the main couple anymore. Not because they suck but because they’re not their blorbo they can project their angsty fantasies onto. And I like Izzy, I really fucking loved him but he was a side character. One that was quite obviously doomed to die since season 1. So saying the show is ‚literal dogshit now‘ is just such a wild jump to me.
His death was also obviously rushed because of the lack of time. It’s not the fault of the crew!!! that they had to adjust their script to the funds and time they were given.
I can’t come onto the internet to be happy about my favourite show being queer and dramatic and campy, and sure a bit messy because everything is fucking DRENCHED in toxicity and whinging.
Sorry if this offends anyone, if anyone even sees it but this really pissed me off today. My one thing that cheers me up made me even more depressed today because people have no inhibitions anymore as soon as their favourite media isn’t perfectly aligned with their image of how it should be.
TL,DR: I’m really over the OFMD fandom being toxic over Izzy and other issues while ignoring all the brilliant things this show has given us.
#ofmd#ofmd s2 spoilers#ofmd season 2#our flag means death#ofmd s2#rant#fandom toxicity#fandom#Izzy hands#queer media#queer joy#im honestly very happy about a lot of developments#Ed and Stede were adorable#and I love the crew so much#they got their inn!!!!#curious to see what season 3 holds now#because it kinda seems like they prepared for the show to not get picked up again#knock on wood#because this show makes me so happy#despite it all#and Lucius and Pete got married!!#also Ed’s entire fishing adventure was fucking hilarious#did he change into his leathers in the water???#extra bitch ✨#ofmd spoilers
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