#they (fandom) hate to see girls winning (making out)

[anovertureinyellow]

What's up tumblr, I just found out that there are ZERO Gwen Cooper/ Clara Oswald fics on AO3. I expected better from you.

[m0e-ru]

annual realization where this gas station’s operations and my life owe it all to visualive i’m serious

[crusty-chronicles]

HxH Men Throwing Down with their S/O's Plushies

Synopsis: How hxh men react to your plushie collection, and if they'd fight them when you're not there.

An: I'm tired of all the fine men being ignored in the HxH fandom. Here's a Valentine's Day special of some of my favorites who are always overlooked for the most white bread, cardboard personality, toxic men.*cough cough* adult trio* cough cough*

-------------------------------

Leorio 🩺

100% fights your plushies

Without a doubt he throws down with them when you're not there. Even when you're in the room he's throwing hands.

And it is personal 😤

You've caught him on several occasions saying- "Think you can sleep next to my girl/man and get away with it?!? You homewrecker!!!!”

It's honestly really funny to see him put one of your giant bears in a headlock.

But you have to stop him before he tears it because those things are expensive goddamit.

“Leave him alone. I've had him for about ten years and I doubt you could find me another one. So drop him,” you lecture.

And he begrudgingly drops your big teddy bear. But not before complaining that you love it more than him.

All pouty and upset until you kiss his cheek and reassure him.

“Babe, they're not alive. You have absolutely no competition for my heart.”

He knows that, but they're everywhere. Watching him with their beady little eyes from their place on your bed.

Which reminds me-

He piledrives your little plushies when you're not in the room.

If he had it his way, they'd all be locked away somewhere.

But because he loves you with his whole heart, he moves them away from your side of the bed to his.

What? Those little bastards thought they'd get to sleep next to you when he's home? Not a chance!

He hates them for the attention you give them, but he also contributes to your collection.

Whenever he's got funds to spare, he'll bring you home a new addition.

With the condition that you give him twice as many cuddles ☝️

---------------

Ging 🎣

He's a little less aggressive than Leorio, but he still fights your plushies.

And he fights with the intent to win.

Which more often than not leads them to getting ruined.

Tackles the absolute hell out of your big plushies. Then he'll jab it's stomach a few times.

“Getting a little too comfortable on my side, Jeremiah?”

If they're on the bed, they're on the floor when you get back.

Doesn't really do it for jealousy, but because he thinks your reaction is funny.

He'll throw one of the smaller ones off and you let out the most offended gasp.

“You stop that right now! You're gonna get him dirty! And I can't put him in the washer!”

He comes up with excuses too, just to see how much you'll let him get away with.

“That one was looking at me funny.” “You've got a place on your bed for each and every one of those little shittlings, but absolutely no room for me. It's not fair.” “I didn't get you that one, so it's under the bed where it belongs.”

The answer: you let him get away with a lot. You secretly think it's cute, but it's annoying how filthy he gets them.

He also steals them from time to time.

Totally not because he likes having something of you when he's away. What? You're crazy 🙄🙄🙄

He'll complain, but he'll always get you replacements for the ones he damages. He'll even get you the jumbo versions of the little ones.

Just because he loves you, despite his lackluster way of showing it.

-------------------------

Morel 🚬

He's pretty respectful about it

Does not fight them.

But, every man has his weakness.

So there are times when he'll pick one of the smaller ones up and inspect it. Right before he squeezes it completely in his hand.

Why does he do it? Just because.

They're like little stress balls

And it's during one of these moments of weakness that you catch him.

“You're choking out my poor frog! Let him go before his eye pops out!”

And he laughs. He thinks it's sweet how much you love these things.

Even if you've got them on shelves and they stare into his soul at night.

He makes it a habit not to smoke or use his ability in front of them.

They hold too much sentimental value to you. And the last thing he wants is for you to get upset.

But the squishing? It doesn't stop.

It's like they're begging to be smooshed.

And you never fail to get after him every time.

“Quit abusing my babies!” You scold before taking back your stuffed rabbit.

He lets you have another bed to put all your plushies on.

He's a big man 😤😤😤 He can't afford space to share with them. He also likes to sleep next to his partner undisturbed, thank you 😤.

Also contributes to your collection.

And we're not talking every once and a while.

He's got that hunter money, so if you see something you want, it's yours

------------------------

Knov 👔

Arguably the most mature of the bunch

Your precious little babies are safe from him

It doesn't even cross his mind to fight them

That being said, your plushies aren't allowed on the bed at all ☹️

“I refuse to have my sleeping space occupied by that thing.” He said, gesturing to a very well loved seal plush. One of its eyes missing.

“What’s wrong with Samuel?”

“Look at it. The poor thing's traumatized. And you're gonna end up choking on its stuffing.”

They aren't even allowed in the bedroom on shelves.

However☝️, he does end up doing something special for you because of how much you adore your plushies.

He lets you dedicate one entire room to your collection. Buy a little bed for you to put them on. Even gets special shelves installed for you.

That's their room and theirs alone.

Also encourages you to get more now that you have ample space for them.

Every trip/mission he leaves for, he always makes sure to bring you something back.

Whether it be one of the huge bears or a little keychain plush, he gets it for you.

Definitely not a man afraid to spend on his S/O and their interest.

He also doesn't bat an eye at the attention you give them.

They mean a lot to you, but so does he judging by the way you're always ready to compromise

That and the way you cuddle closer to him at night and say-

“You're a whole lot better than even my softest of plushies.”

------------------------

Knuckle 🐕

On a bad day, it's on sight.

Always the bigger ones too

“What're you looking at?” And then he'll wrestle whatever poor plush caught his eye first.

But he feels incredibly bad about it afterwards

Picking up your little dinosaur nugget plush with tears in his eyes.

“I'm so sorry. You're mother's/father's gonna kill me for this.”

Even goes as far as to stitch up any little holes if he damaged them.

What can I say? He's a total softie

Like many of the men on here, he does contribute to your collection.

But you also inadvertently make him start his own 💀

You'll buy one for yourself and because it needs a friend, you buy another.

Only to gift it to him because ‘They’re dating like us.’ 🥺

That's how it starts.

You start buying plushies in pairs.

One for you and one for him.

It never fails to make Knuckle cry.

“Babe really? You didn't have to.”

And he's cradling the little dog plush you got him with such care. Like it's the most delicate thing in the world.

He, of course, makes sure to get another set to pay you back.

Plushies in the bed?

100%

No complaints here.

Even memorizes the names of all of them.

----------------------

Kurapika ⛓️

He simply does not have the energy to fight your plushies

He comes home tired and drained, understandably. And the first thing he does is collapse on the bed, right on top of them.

Doesn't think twice about it. In fact, he likes the extra cushion they provide.

And you don't mind all that much either. Kurapika does a lot. He's been through a lot.

If he wants to rest right on top of your plushies, he's more than welcome.

However, when he's not completely exhausted, he's mean to them ☹️

He'll push off the ones on his side of the bed to make space for himself. And he will not pick them up

Or he'll hide the one you usually snuggle with at night so he can cuddle you himself.

He just wants your warmth after a long day. Is that so much to ask for?

“Kurapika, have you seen my octopus plush anywhere?”

And he'll look away guiltily before mumbling a ‘No. Can't say that I have.’

But he always puts it back when he knows he'll be gone for a while.

He knows it brings you comfort, and who is he to take that away from you.

He does get pouty when you give them extra attention.

“I've been gone for a month and you're too busy cleaning that thing to greet me.” He complains.

Only for you to get up and wrap your arms around him. Giving his cheek a smooch before saying-

“You know you're precious to me. But I wouldn't be so busy cleaning my baby if you'd stop leaving him on the floor.”

He makes it up to you everytime by getting you another one.

He always makes sure to pick you something up when he comes back from searching for his clan's eyes.

A little thank you for always waiting for him and giving endless patience.

-------------------------------

Kite 🪁

Another man whom your plushies are safe from

He's supportive of your collection, but all he asks is that they don't take up the entire bed.

If they do, he's a little mean about it and organizes them all on your side.

That's about as far as he goes with messing with them.

He definitely builds you shelves to keep them in

Again, the less of them in the bed, the more space you two have.

He thinks it's cute how much you care about them, and likes to indulge you by asking how you got them.

He listens to each and every story you have and why each plush is special to you.

Safe to say, this man does not get jealous

A piece of fluff with stuffing is the last thing he's worried about

That being said, he contributes less frequently to your collection than the other men on this list

He limits them to special occasions like your birthday or an anniversary.

Why?

He wants to make sure each one is attached to a special moment so you hold them just as dear as your other ones.

An import memory that you're able to hold onto

He's also careful around your plushies.

He doesn't wanna get them dirty or accidentally tear them because of how much they mean to you.

----------------------

Wing 👓

This man right here is a 10/10

The absolute sweetest man

The thought doesn't even cross his mind to throw down with your plushies

In fact, he prides himself on taking care of them while you're out

Dusting them off, reorganizing them, stitching up any little holes he sees

Also someone who goes out of his way to memorize all their names.

Knows each one by heart because he always listens intently when you talk about them

Your big dinosaur?

That's Chungus.

The little raccoon?

Sylvester.

You want the plushies in bed?

Of course! Each one has their own special place. And he makes sure there's enough space for the both of you.

If he's got money to spare, he's definitely gonna get you something.

You don't even have to ask, he's already bringing you home a little duck plush that Zushi thought you'd like. What can he say? The kid adores you

This man doesn't get jealous whatsoever

In fact, you're the one who ends up getting pouty because he's taking fantastic care of your plushies.

“Honey, I want cuddles.” You whine.

And he's cleaning off one of your bears with a damp rag.

“In a minute, dearest. You got him dirty last night.”

But as soon as he's done, you've got his full attention

He just knows how much you love those things and wants you to be able to cherish them for as long as possible.

-----------------

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY 💕💕💕💕

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART THREE

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Daddy issues.

Notes: Fun fact... The reason I titled this as two sides of the same coin as I was originally planning on making the reader being Azrael's wife and would be [y/n] Eveningstar as Azrael's last name would be Eveningstar 🧍but decided not to lmao.

PART TWO | PART FOUR | NAVIGATION

Charlie stood nervously at the podium, angels above her already judging her. Her eyes noticed the door to the courtroom opens, a familiar angel she met awhile ago, an angel that looked like her father. Xavier was it? If she remembered correctly. She watched as the boy flew up and took his position on the other side of Sera, Emily on the other side of the woman, the older woman in between the two young seraphims.

Charlie could feel the [e/c] orbs staring at her as the boy looked down on her (literally as he was sitting above her).

The meeting began.

Charlie was really hoping to win these angels over, hopefully her brother could help.

But she was slowly getting more and more nervous as the boy looked like he was getting bored from this meeting, the meeting clearly didn't meet his expectations.

Xavier just looked down, eyes half-lidded as he looked at the girl with boredom. All he could see is a plan without enough foundation to work, baseless claims that the hotel will work.

What annoys him is that this is the very same ambition his father proposed years ago. He wasn't there during the meeting but his mother told him about it.

The idea is ridiculous. Sinners were given a chance to live an honest and good life but decided to mess it up and now they're looking for a way to redeem themselves?

Xavier was close to falling asleep in the middle of it, suddenly something caught his interest. Emily, Charlotte, and Sera were arguing but Lute and Adam suddenly butted into the conversation and managed to slip up and revealed a secret.

“A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month... gotta say I can't wait to... Come down and exterminate you.” Adam says mockingly along with Lute.

Xavier's eyes widened, jaw dropping. Looking around to see if he heard it right and base on the others reaction, he heard it right.

The rest of the meeting went by a blur, another secret was revealed and Vaggie, Charlotte's lover was a former exorcist and is a fallen angel.

Frankly, he doesn't care about that. Xavier can only cover his mouth in shock, still in disbelief that these killings are happening without the others knowing.

Heaven is a lie.

Charlie looked at her supposed brother, a slight surprised look on his face. Clearly in disbelief. She couldn't tell if he's mad or not.

Oh, he's mad alright. Mad that a lie this big has been hidden away.

Beyond furious, Xavier glared at Sera. Charlotte and her lover were teleported back to hell after a snap of Adam's fingers.

Killing of souls, damned or not they have no reason for doing this.

Xavier decided to attend the court meeting, curious what fantastic or foolish ideas his half sister had to show them. He didn't expect that this meeting ended up revealing a very heavy secret.

Currently he is comforting Emily as the girl glares at Sera, “Please, if you start to question... You could end up like Lucifer... Fallen.” Sera says, her voice trembling slightly.

Xavier's glare hardened when the older woman mentioned a certain man he hated, Xavier just glared at Sera as the woman gave Emily a kiss on her forehead, he doesn't like how the high Seraphim is hiding a secret this big.

“Xavier.” Sera calls out to him sternly, the boy just gave the woman a raised eyebrow as his face returns to being emotionless. Sera felt chills running down her spine, Lucifer's face is unfortunately plastered on this boy's face, the fallen angel was his father after all.

“I hope you don't tell anyone about this. Especially your mother.” She pleaded and Xavier scoffs, a slight mischievous smile on his face, “Or what? Gonna cast me out to like what you did with my birth father?” he asked sarcastically, Sera's eye twitched.

“Of course, not. That isn't an enough reason to cast you out. Just... Please don't tell her.” the woman explained and Xavier scoffs.

“I love my mother and I can't bear to lie to her face, she already had enough of that. Just expect that this will reach the seven's soon.” He explained before eventually flying down and leaving the courtroom, not giving the woman a chance to speak.

Sera wanted to reach out and stop the boy but he was already gone, lowering her hand slowly. Sighing. He really is Lucifer's son, stubborn.

After all, the apple doesn't really fall far from the tree.

They're just lucky that [y/n] was able to raise the boy properly and was able to inherit most of his mom's personality. The looks however, are unfortunately from his dad.

Sera sighs again. Mentally preparing about the possibilities of what will happen if the seven virtues' know about this.

Charlie's mind was a mess after that meeting, Vaggie gave her some time and space to process everything of what happened.

She can't believe the love of her life is a fallen angel and worse, an ex exorcist! She hid something this big from her! And on top of that, she has a half older brother in heaven?!

Charlie groans, going underneath the covers as she lies on the bed.

She knows the older boy didn't lie as he literally had her father's face except for the eyes and height but everything else was an exact replica. Charlie can't help but be jealous, she could tell how much better the boy was compared to her, the boy carried an air of authority around him.

She feels guilty, she's not stupid. Her dad had that boy while he was in heaven and obviously with someone else, another angel.

Charlie wonders what kind of life her half brother is living up there?

What she does know is that the boy harbors some kind of hatred for her and her family. The boy didn't fully express it but Charlie could feel it, the bubbling rage beneath his exterior when he saw her.

She'll have to ask her dad about this later, once she's mentally okay.

Xavier returned back home, the mansion empty as his mother is away, and they don't have any servants as they prefer a quiet life.

Walking to the living room, his eyes gazed at the large portrait that was displayed on the wall of the living room—a portrait of him and his mom. Him standing at her side while she sat on a regal chair, both of them matching clothes—their heaven uniforms.

His eyes softened, he felt exhausted. Training with his uncle, meeting his half sister, and a secret Sera hid was revealed.

He can't wait for her to come back home, he needed to tell her all about this.

TAGLIST:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyrealityy @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen

[oreosmama]

Voicemails After the Breakup (Haikyuu!! Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: I pity the fools who ignore this a/n bc WARNING, these are hcs without those stupid bullet points bc I have suddenly emotionally decided that they fucking suck. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy the light angst, for all those survivors who are still vibing in this fandom. Enjoy!

Word count: 1968

Tooru Oikawa:

“I’m totally and completely over you.”

That’s how the message starts. 

Part of you wonders if you missed something, or accidentally skipped ahead. It’s so immediate, like Oikawa could barely wait for the beep before tearing into you. Like he needed to spit poison the second he had the chance. 

And it’s one of those biting remarks that he wants to let fester—for a while, evidently; he doesn’t say anything else for another five minutes. 

All that follows is a loud thud, like he’s thrown the phone away from him. And then footsteps, like he’s pacing, pacing, pacing back and forth, trying to think of more scathing words by burning holes into his carpet. 

You hit a point where you think you should delete the message, maybe try and not care about whatever else he may or may not say after waiting for so long. You nibble on your nails and tug at the snarls in your hair. You pick four pieces of lint off your sweatshirt and seventeen more off the blanket draped over your lap, and you know how many there are because you line them up and count them afterwards as you wait, anxious, listening to your ex-boyfriend’s panting. 

But a small rustle stirs at that five-minute mark, right against your ear. And a sniffle. 

“Fine.” Oikawa’s voice cracks. “You win.” 

You suck in a breath. 

“What do you wanna hear? That I miss you?” He sniffles again, then scoffs bitterly. “That I miss you so fucking much I can’t sleep at night? That my bed is so fucking cold now I can’t even stomach sleeping in it? That every girl I see I automatically compare to you because I have to—I just fucking have to, all because she’s not you. And it makes me sick.”

His chuckle is sour and crackles harshly into your eardrum. “Am I stroking your ego enough, sweetheart? Because you win. You fucking win.

“I want you back.” 

He sighs, and it sounds like he’s rubbing his forehead. 

“I need you back.” 

More beats pass in the silence. More sniffles, too, but stretched out, like he’s trying to steady his breathing. 

You don’t think it’s helping him any. As you wipe the cuffs of your sweatshirt underneath your eyes, his voice returns, thoroughly raw and wounded. It squeaks out of him, barely above a whisper. His voice is so loud and tender, like he’s cradling the phone against his cheek. 

Your hand against his warm cheek, curled over that pink skin, fingertips inches away from brushing through those soft strands, wiping tears. That’s what you wish it was. 

“I didn’t know…” 

A shaky breath. You hold yours in return. 

“I didn’t know anything could hurt this bad.”

He swallows thickly. 

“Those last few moments after you left—I thought that would be the worst of it. When you just walked out. And I keep seeing you do it, over and over and over, in my head like I can’t help but torture myself with it.

“I never knew it would get so much fucking worse.”

He whimpers a little, and your heart constricts unbearably. You tear at the damn thing buried underneath your sweatshirt, massaging the skin like it can soothe that phantom ache. 

Oikawa must hate you. Maybe he hates you like you hate him: not because of the breakup, but because you can go for weeks without seeing him, holding him, kissing him, and everything still hurts like that last time. 

“Thing is, I could’ve sworn you weren’t always in my life. It’s been two years. Only two years. And yet I can’t remember a damn thing before us. It feels like it was always us. Some fog, and then you, and then everything afterwards. Everything that was us.”

“And I hate that we had it so good, YN. I really do. Because missing you has been the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The frustration in his voice is familiar, a sickening sense of deja vu around it, and you latch a hand over your mouth at how vividly the image comes to you: Oikawa tearing his fingers through his hair, teeth gritted, cheeks flushed and shiny. Like when he lost a game, but different somehow. 

Like this was something he didn’t even know he could lose.

He’s crumbling in a way he doesn’t know how to stop. That ugly part about having something wonderful and new—the moment it’s gone, what the hell are you supposed to do then?

“I just—Goddamnit, I can’t stand how badly it hurts anymore. I can’t,” he cries, desperate and aching, like his hand is fisting at his heart. You can hear the breath hitching in his throat, the hiccuping breaths after his sobs. You can hear every tear, feel it against your own cheeks, a soreness building at the front of your skull. 

Too many tears. Your body is screaming at you, too many fucking tears. 

But it’s him and he was yours and you were his. 

Were. 

You were his. 

You had no idea how much that single thought could make your entire chest throb. 

Oikawa inhales, and it makes your heart race against the thick wall caging it in, squeezing against it. 

“I need to see you.” 

He says the thought like it’s just slapped him across the face. 

“I need to go see you, I—I have to.” 

He mumbles to himself unsteadily, like he’s rocking back and forth. Debating, really, what he’s supposed to do, if he should do it at all, if it’s right after everything.

You should probably think he’s wrong.

You probably shouldn’t be curled over your phone, eyes wide, mouth open, not making a fucking peep. Waiting to hear what he’s going to do. 

Maybe—just maybe—you shouldn’t be telling yourself that as the voicemail counts down to its final seconds, if he decides he’s not going to go to you, that you’ll definitely be going to him.

“I can’t just sit here. I can’t stay in here, without you. This isn’t right, I—”

Your breath hitches when you hear the frantic jingle of keys. 

Then the sound of a door slamming. 

His footsteps racing down his apartment’s stairwell.

A car engine revving. 

“I need to see you.” 

And the voicemail ends. 

_________________________

Satori Tendou: 

The message begins with a scoff of utter disbelief. 

“Is that what we’re doing now?”

He pauses, almost like he thinks you’re going to respond. 

“Heard from someone that I suddenly have syphilis. Yesterday, I had herpes though, so I guess I’m gonna have a tough week.”

A rustle like he’d shaking his head, like he can’t fucking believe it. 

“And sure, okay, I figured that’s fine. You can say all that shit, and it won’t really stick because everyone knows it was us and that it’s you and you’re hurt.”

He sighs. 

“But I saw it, sweetheart. I saw it.” The phone whines like he’s adjusting it against his face, and his voice is suddenly lower, darker. 

“You don’t get to have it both ways, you know. You can’t spread all that shit—all those rumors about how shitty everything was and how we didn’t have anything going for us—and then turn around two days later wearing my sweatshirt. And you don’t get to wear that necklace I gave you for our anniversary and then run away from me the second you see me. That’s just not fair—you’re not playing fair anymore.”

Something swishes around like loose clothing, and a large huff greets your ear from what must be Tendou collapsing into a seat. When his little sounds become quieter, that relentless humming and the excitable clicks of his tongue against his teeth, you figure he must have put the phone on speaker and balanced it on his knee like he always did. Mid-conversation with Ushiwaka, he always used to spin his phone with those long fingers, or bounce the damn thing up and down against his frantic leg. 

And the voicemail came through late last night, one of those dead hours where the only ones awake were Tendou, his scrambling thoughts, and the moths flitting back and forth outside his glowing window. He was always awake, always thinking, always doing something. 

When you’d first broken up, after one long, wrenching fight where you’d both lost your voices and the frustration welled so high you just couldn’t breathe anymore, you’d been thankful for the idea of sleeping soundly for the first time in months. 

You’d been wrong. You weren’t even sleeping anymore; just long, slow blinks where your phone screen would magically turn from 3:45 a.m. to 7:25 a.m., and in five minutes you’d have to get up and slug your way through another day. 

Tendou had been the same. Those naturally wide eyes sagged under the pressure, and the curve of his spine had deepened like he’d been hauling the lack of sleep everywhere he went. 

He must be sitting at his window now, at this moment in his message, pale skin aglow with wispy tendrils of moon. And he’s calling you. And he saw everything you’d done. 

“Not fair. Not fair at all,” he whines, teasing. Always, always teasing, and if you hadn’t heard the slight cripple in his voice on the last word, you’d have gone on thinking he viewed it as one big joke. 

You’re sure he heard the same thing you had—that he couldn’t keep acting like it was all fun and games. His usual, cat-like smile surely fell into a pert little frown, pale lips twisting like he’d sucked on a lemon. 

No fun, no fun, no fun, he must have been thinking. 

“Ya see, I thought we had a little deal,” Tendou drawls. “You’d talk smack and start dressing all pretty just to spite me, and then–and then I’d go ahead and delete all your pictures and put your name as ‘Bitch’ in my phone. And in, like, two weeks, we’d just be two ships, whoosh, whoosh, passing each other on the high seas of life, ya know?”

He breathes a ghost of a laugh. 

“But, sweetheart, you look like shit.” He chuckles for real this time, and it’s disgustingly hollow. “I’m not even kidding. Like someone ran you over three times every morning—it’s horrible, really.”

You curl into yourself even further, and you’re smiling, grinning, lips peeling with how much you’ve cried and how little water you’ve drank after. You hate him; God, you hate how he can make you laugh and cry at the same time. 

“But that’s okay, I’ll give you a pass just this once. I haven’t deleted your pictures yet, so I botched my end of the deal, too.” Tendou tsks his tongue. 

“I won’t go easy on you, though. Here–here, how’s about this: for every day you stop wearing my clothes—because they look horrible on you, sweetheart; really, you’re painful to watch—I’ll delete one of your pictures, eh? That means, in about–uhhdivideby365daysinayearignoringleapyearbullshit–ah, seven years, I’ll have held up my end. S’that good with you?”

You lean your head back, letting the tears flood your hair as he chuckles to himself. 

“Fuck it,” he says after a pause. Hopeless. Breathless. “Fuck it.” He must be gnawing on that pale lower lip, biting and nibbling until it bleeds. Because he lets something go to sigh again, and he must have smacked his head against the wall, and then you think he sniffled. 

“I still want you. I’ve always wanted you. And I’m tired of missing you and wanting you. Doing both hurts too much.”

Tendou soughs.

“So I’m still your Chicken Tendy, baby. Always. And I’ll be here when you're ready, syphilis and all.”

[rqgnarok]

standing ovation - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 2321

warnings: mentions of jamie’s dad and DV, spoilers for ted lasso’s mom city. reader uses female pronouns. 

summary: reader sneaks into training grounds after richmond’s win against man city. seeing her is just what jamie needs. 

author’s note at the end!

There’s something in the air.

Jamie’s pretty sure Will sprayed some lavender shit all over the locker room again but that’s not quite what he means– he’s said goodbye to every single one of his teammates and all the coaches– and the locker room is now his and his alone. He locks away his dad’s ghost by locking up his phone, the simple message doing wonders to finish lifting that weight off his shoulders.

He wasn’t at the game. Or maybe he was, Jamie realizes now that it doesn’t really matter. A part of him will never stop looking over his shoulder whenever he visits his hometown for his dickwad of a father, but the older, bigger part of him knows Coach was right– his motivation doesn’t come from hating his dad anymore and it doesn’t have to. His forgiveness is for himself, for the little boy that had to build a mask to save himself from his dad, and for the man he is today because of him– and because of his mum, Keeley, Roy, Ted, his teammates–

The standing ovation at the end was more of a benediction than he’d like to admit. Everything about his hometown made him feel prickly; like he was a virus the town was doing its best to reject, and other than his quick visit to his mom Jamie expected the whole thing to be a disaster. The kids on the street, the people on social media, the rude assholes in the bleachers– Jamie thought that was all he was gonna get. Blind, thoughtless hatred despite Jamie trying his best.

He remembers Roy getting a standing ovation on his last game, while Jamie was still wearing Man City blue. He’d been appalled, unable to discern the possibility of someone hating you so much they respected you. All he’d ever gotten– from his dad, rival teams, his own team– had been everything except respect.

But they’d clapped for him. They thought him deserving of something precious and somehow it feels like permission. He can play for himself. He can come home without his dad’s ghost belittling him for not turning out the way he expected him to. 

Even Manchester hasn’t been home in a long time. Sure, his mom and Simon are there, but Richmond has his family, too– his friends, his teammates, his–

“Excuse me, I’m looking for my boyfriend. 5’9 not quite 6 foot, sexy as hell, the most fantastic football player to ever walk on Earth?”

Jamie’s lips involuntarily twist up as he glances at the door. (Y/N)’s a sight wearing her Richmond TARTT jersey, looking disheveled and flushed like the rest of the city probably is right now after their win tonight. 

Jamie doesn’t give a shit about the rest of the city, though. At least not right now. He cares about his girl sneaking in (with Keeley and Roy’s permission and advice, probably) to see him, normal sleep schedule be damned. 

He laughs, loud and unrestrained joy lighting up his features as he hobbles towards his girlfriend, letting himself be enveloped in a crush-tight embrace.

“Did ya watch it?” he wonders, forgoing his usual shy demeanor whenever (Y/N) praises him and just allowing his excitement to overflow, arms going around (Y/N)’s waist and hoisting her off the ground.

“Did I watch it, he asks,” (Y/N) scoff is downplayed by her big grin and the way she wraps her arms around Jamie’s neck as he spins her around, fucked up ankle be damned. “I couldn’t take my fucking eyes off of you, Jamie, oh, my God–”

She’s kissing him deeply, unable to contain her excitement. 

“You’re so fucking brilliant,” she whispers against his mouth, her hands at the nape of his neck making him shiver into her embrace, unable to get enough. “Oh, Jamie, that assist– the entire play for Colin’s goal? Your goal–”

“It was for you,” he tells as he drops her off, cupping her face in his hands and cheeks hurting with how wide he’s smiling. “I couldn’t celebrate but it was for you. For you and me mum, you were with me on the pitch the whole time–”

He stumbles a little as he drops her on the ground and (Y/N) tenses in his arms. She looks him over, suddenly worried. “Oh, shit. Your ankle, dumbass, are you okay? Fuck, did I–”

“Angel,” the nickname has her melting almost immediately just like he thought it would, a five-word weapon he’s never gotten tired of wielding. (Y/N) pouts at him, still concerned, and Jamie can’t have that, he kisses the expression off her face immediately. It should be illegal for her to be sad, no, sir. “‘s not even a sprain. It was probably the panic of bein’ in the same place as me dad, to be honest.”

Something steely flashes through her eyes, there and gone in a second, at the mention of Jamie’s dad. (Y/N)’s never been anything other than kind about it, but Jamie doesn’t doubt she’d beat the old fart up if she were given the chance. 

The thought only makes him smile.

“Did you? See him?” she wonders cautiously. She’s touching him again after her moment of hesitation over his injury, hands doing soothing motions up and down his sides. Jamie fights off a shiver.

“Nah,” he says simply as if the thought of crossing paths with him didn’t have him toeing the line of a panic attack the entire three days they were in Manchester. “I don’t know if he was there, and if he was, I didn’t see him. I don’t think I care anymore. It’s for the best, really.”

(Y/N)’s expression brightens, though they both know they’re not done talking about it. Jamie wishes it could be as easy as turning off his phone and forgetting about his dad, but his skin already itches a little with the idea of getting a text back from him. He’s also no doubt that (Y/N) will hold him throughout it all. 

“I did see me mum.”

“How is my favorite Tartt?” she teases.

“Happy,” Jamie says softly, always the most important thing to consider when it comes to his mother. Ever since he was a toddler and he gained acknowledgment of his dad’s actions; after an especially gruesome argument that ended with his dad breaking a few photo frames and plates, stumbling his way out of the apartment, and slamming the door shut, Jamie would climb on his mom’s lap and wipe her tears as best he could with his tiny clumsy baby fingers. “Yeah, she was real happy. And for me, too. Even before the match, she was happy to see me, happy to… jus’ happy.”

“That’s good, sweetheart,” she threads her fingers through Jamie’s hair to keep it off his face, his headband lost somewhere in his lockers or amongst the rest of the dirty laundry. He’ll have to tell Will to watch out for it, he’s a little attached to it after the night he’s had. 

Jamie’s usually not the one to believe in lucky garments or charms but– well. He feels pretty lucky right now; that (Y/N) saw some worth in him when they met and makes the choice to love him and come home to him, day after day, whatever the outcome may be. 

(Y/N) looks at him adoringly like she knows what he’s thinking. “Did’ya get your wings back, then?”

Jamie grasps her hand in his and turns to kiss the inside of her wrist, only slipping a little bit of tongue. “Nah. They was never gone. All I needed was a little help to see.”

He frowns before (Y/N) can answer. “I was gonna say something stupid like ‘you’re me wings’ but that’s disgusting and I hate it. I would never say something like that. ‘m not Roy.”

(Y/N)’s laugh is surprised and comes deep from her belly. “Are you telling me Roy Kent’s a secret romantic?”

“Big old softie, that tosser,” he rolls his eyes. “He snuck you in for me, didn’t he? That’s all you need to know about–”

(Y/N) shuts him up with a kiss just because she can, and they’re both smiling too hard for it to be a proper one. 

She says “He likes you. He’s proud of you. We’re all so proud of you,” while peppering kisses all over his face, landing on his cheeks, nose, temple, jaw, and corner of his mouth. “You’re so, so good, Jamie, I love you so much.”

“I love you, too,” he says, because there’s not gonna be a single time in which she tells him that and he doesn’t reciprocate. “Mum said that, too. And Keeley and Roy. And Coach, too, I guess, in his own way. I wouldn’t have been able to do it without them.”

“I can’t believe I missed it,” (Y/N) pouts and beats herself up over it for the thousandth time. Jamie presses a kiss to the space between her eyes for the thousandth time in response. “I should’ve been there, I should’ve told my boss to go to hell–” 

“You’re here,” he tells her, shaking her a little by the shoulders and looking her over like he can’t quite believe it. That she’s here in the locker room, in his life, loving him like he’s always desperately wished for but never thought he’d deserve. “What was I gonna do, put my dumb ankle into ice and sit alone in the dark?”

“‘m sure Roy and Keeley would be here drinking champagne with you if I wasn’t here.”

“And what could we be doing that is keeping them away right now?” he raises his brows, sneaking a hand down her back lower, lower, lower–

(Y/N) slaps his chest, though a gleam in her eye tells him she’s not saying no to anything. “You’re…” she drifts off.

He smirks cockily. “Unbelievable?”

(Y/N) shakes her head imperceptively. “Nah. I always knew you could do it. But you’re breathtaking, I’ll give you that. As if your ego needs it.”

Jamie’s mouth softens into a smile, soft and apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

(Y/N) frowns a little at the sudden shift in conversation. “Whatever for?”

“I’ve been a dick these past couple of weeks–”

He had. (Y/N) won’t let him admit it but he wasn’t lying when he told Roy he wasn’t doing well. Not eating, not sleeping, waving off (Y/N)’s concern with a little too cold shoulder. It made him feel a little too much like his dad, and that thought only dragged him further down.

It had been (Y/N) who suggested Jamie pay a visit to his mom while in town for the game, and when he’d mentioned this to her she’d smiled knowingly, ran a hand through his hair, and made him promise an introduction soon. 

“You were anxious,” she corrects him with a shake of the head, won’t let him speak ill of himself when all he did was have a normal, human reaction to a very triggering situation. “And I’ve been worried about you but you don’t have to apologize, Jamie. Not to me, not in a million years.”

“Alright,” he says, soft and charmed. He soothes his thumb over her knuckles, featherlight. He looks down at their intertwined hands for a beat or two, gently swinging them back and forth. “Then can I apologize for shutting you out? I know you were only trying to help. I’ll do better next time at letting you know what I need.”

“And I’ll do better at listening,” she assures him with an indulgent smile, using her free hand to trace the Richmond crest of his shirt. “Look at us, communicating and shit.”

Jamie scrunches his nose in faux disgust. “Gross,” he says, but even the facade is too much to keep up when (Y/N) nudges his nose with hers. His lips tilt upwards against his best intentions, drunk on her presence and something inside his chest brimming with unstirred delight. 

(Y/N) exhales against his mouth. She hasn’t been more than a few inches away from him since she came down to meet him, always touching him.  

“What do you wanna do, huh?” she asks him, pulling at the bottom of his shirt. “Anything you want. We can go get some takeout from that burger place you like or maybe something fancier? We can go home and get some ice on that ankle–”

“It’s nothin’–”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” by that, she means when the team doctor gives him the all clear and he isn’t limping slightly with every step he takes. It’ll take a while but Jamie can take it, especially if any downtime comes with them spending the days together. She makes a questioning hum. “But we can do that tomorrow, then. Tonight, whatever you want. You’ve earned it.”

And Jamie does feel like a winner. Not only because of the three points they managed to steal from Man City but because he gets to come home to this. He gets to leave his dad behind in Manchester and his mom in safe hands, he gets to accomplish his dream for himself and the people that love him instead of trying to prove someone who hurt him wrong. 

He gets to live for himself. Coach Lasso was right, him forgiving his father was the kindest thing he could do for himself. 

“I want this,” he murmurs against her temple, breathing in the smell of her perfume and taking in the warmth of her body against his. “I got all I need right here.”

(Y/N) smiles and crowds even closer, pressing a kiss to his jaw. 

A beat. Then–

“So that’s a no for a quickie in the locker room, then?”

(Y/N)’s laugh tastes like a standing ovation.

_________

precious little jamiebaby i hope i did you justice ily

i was ready to make an angsty peace about him but mom city left me craving to give him a moment of peace so ta-da! thank you so much for reading and letting me know what you think!

a reminder that commissions and asks are open!

<3

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

[starrvsn]

` ִ ꔫ ۫ ⊹ D.HUME ࣪ ˖ VICTORY BLISS.

﹙ MOVIE/FANDOM ⠆THE BOYS IN THE BOAT ﹚

PAIRING ⠆don hume x fem!reader.

CATEGORIES ⠆fluff!, lil bit of angst- drama for no reason.. for the plot HAHA, shy!don, slight ooc with the boys, don going through it, the reader is lovely i swear, the guys being the #1 supporters of don, bobby being his #1 protector, sassy!bobby, bobby’s kinda mean in this but he means well i swear!

WORD COUNT ⠆4,613 (fun!)

star left a message! this was actually my first draft i had of don and i finally came around to finishing it! this came out much longer than i expected but i hope you enjoy~!

𝟒𝟏𝟏. don finally garners the courage to ask out the girl he's had his eyes on since the beginning of the semester.

"don! hey! so how you gon' celebrate?" bobby calls, jogging up next to him. the faint sounds of the other guys’ voices behind them, they had just come back from germany and all still high from the victory bliss. don had just gotten over a horrible fever, thanks to the guys he didn't think he'd be able to row– and be there when winning gold. now that it's over, they want to celebrate as much as they can, take advantage of a golden opportunity.

"er, not sure— sleep it off maybe." don utters, stuffing his hands in his pockets as they walk further onto campus— towards their dorms, completely exhausted from traveling. the fact that they won olympic gold hadn't hit him yet and with their victory banquet in a few days time, maybe it would hit him then. the shorter man scoffs jumping in front of the taller, stopping him abruptly in his tracks.

"oh come on don, you gotta celebrate! you know soon enough girls are gonna be at your feet." bobby attests, arms flailing about in attempt to prove his point. don finds it almost comedic at how desperately bobby is trying to get through him, trying to hold back his laugh— he lets out "so?"

bobby squints his eyes looking a don incredulously "so? this time right now is your best shot— its now or never."

don could hardly speak to anyone, let alone girls— it became what he was known for. he didn't hate it because it was true, there was no room to deny it— it was just easier to manage, less to worry about but he could see where bobby was getting at, finally the narrative of seizing the moment getting through his thick skull after the many attempts of the team encouraging him to talk to girls more, so maybe this was it.

“i-i’ll think about it.” don nods, almost unsure of himself, he wasn't sure if he was saying it to satisfy his friend or to give himself some sort of encouragement. digging his hands deeper into his pants pockets. bobby’s face softens and he gives the taller male an optimistic smile, patting him encouragingly on his arm before joining the rest of the group. don heaves a sigh before continuing — his thoughts weigh his options for the rest of his walk to the dorms.

don mulls over what do over the course of a few days, with their banquet in a few days he knew had to do something soon. he had many ideas but one just kept coming back to him so he is putting all his chips in on this, hoping he doesn’t crash and burn.

don was nervous, he tossed and turned in bed just thinking about this. his heart beating loudly in his ears and almost out of his chest— he was sure people in the common room could hear it. he looks down at his feet, counting his steps as he approaches your table—trying not vomit from how on edge he was feeling. the words from bobby echoing in his head "this time is your best shot—its now or never."

taking a deep breath, he takes his gaze from his shoes to you. words couldn't describe how you looked, the sunlight peering through the window reflecting beautifully on your features making you look ethereal. he was enamored.

you were in the same physics lecture, you always sat two rows in front of him. he would catch himself drifting his eyes to the back of you head when the lecture got boring or when you turned to talk to your classmate, showing him your pretty side profile. he knew he was infatuated when you were paired during a lab and while don barely spoke– not even introducing himself. you were polite, nice and smart, a perfect trifecta. you always knew what to say and was so patient with him when you had asked him something and he didn’t respond right away. most times when he wouldn’t respond, people would get impatient or just brush him off; ignoring him completely. it was nice for someone to treat him with respect besides the guys on crew for a change.

breaking from his reverie, he realizes he’s stood before your table longer than he initially wanted to and yet you still haven’t noticed, to absorbed in your studies. don almost feels bad for interrupting and the thought of him just walking away and trying again some other day— or never crosses his mind but before he can even make up his mind, you finally notice.

"don! hi!" a soft smile peering at your lips as you stop writing, looking up at him. don's eyebrows jump in surprise, taken aback that you know him. a lump forms in his throat unsure what to say, awkwardly avoiding your gaze.

"yo-you know me?" letting his thoughts continue the conversation. he watches as you laugh- shaking your head for a moment before collecting yourself.

"it's hard to not know the stroke that won us a gold medal." you respond, voice laced with praise.

dons hand shoots up to the nape of his neck, flustered. "well i wouldn't say it was just me, it was all of us." he immediately denies, a faint blush glowing on his cheeks.

“i must give credit where it’s do, i mean you guys must’ve been amazing! well from what i heard on the radio at least.” you boast. his heart swells with pride hearing you sound so elated with how well they did— how well he did, in berlin. he felt his heart swell as you told him. his mouth runs dry as he tries to find the right words to continue the conversation and he kind of kicks himself for letting silence fall between the two of you. you speak up insisting you join him at your table, closing your books and putting them aside. he sits across from you, taking in your features that he thought about from time to time when he was away. you scoot you chair further in, knocking your foot against his, a shock coursing through him– no has ever made him feel this way.

“tell me about berlin, i heard you were feeling under the weather over there.” you start, quirking your head in curiosity awaiting his response. clearing his throat, don gathers his words.

“uh— yeah, it was an otherworldly experience. i never been out of country, out of state even but it was definitely different. an experience i would never forget” you can see his face brighten from talking about it, he speaks so descriptively about his time there it feel like you were there with him. “i was sick with some kind of bug. it was a grueling few days but was worth it after winning. it was amazing! i would do it all again if i had to.” you offhandedly realize that this was probably the most you’ve ever heard him speak and you find him so endearing as he spoke, he was so expressive when he was talking about something he was so passionate about and you loved it. you watch as he goes on about the olympics and the number of athletes he saw compete, you head rests on your hand watching him with attentive eyes letting him continue with his ventures.

minutes pass from dons tales and he realizes that he got lost in speaking about the olympics and droned on and on about it , he felt selfish for taking such time to talk about the most trivial of things— or so he thought.

“'m so sorry, i must’ve talked your ear off.” don cuts in the middle of a story he was telling, as he realized what he was doing. feeling guilty as he casts his eyes to his hands, falling quiet again. what he doesn't see is the small frown that casts on your face, your heart pangs at the thought of him thinking that what he was talking about wasn’t important, looking so dejected. a moment passes as he fiddles with his hands then he sees your hand coming into view clasping his. he raised his gaze and he sees you looking at him with a comforting smile smile.

“it’s okay, i like hearing your voice. i could listen to you talk all day” the compliment was simple but made his heart skip a beat. it’s now or never don gulps, his calloused hand encasing yours, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, you can tell he has something on his mind and he could take all the time in the world to say it and you would wait. “would you want to come to the victory banquet with me? it's in a few days.” his voice is timid and small, if the room was any louder you wouldn’t be able to hear what he said.

you face brightens at his proposal, accepting without a moment passing “i would love to.”

the next few days passes with a blur as don and the rest of the team were whisked away to do interviews and photoshoots on their ground breaking win. it all happened so fast and before they knew it; it was already the night of the banquet.

you had promised don you’d meet outside of your dormitory so you could walk together to the hall. he gets there a bit earlier than you were promised to meet, he was nervous— maybe that being the reason he didn't want to be late and have you waiting outside for him. a cool summer breeze passing through as he leans against the brick ledge accenting the dorm building, soon moments turn into minutes and it crosses don's mind that you might have stood him up.

the thought makes him feel hopeless, pulling up his sleeve to reveal his art deco watch- a gift from coach ulbrickson, it was 6:40. 10 minutes had passed since your agreed meeting time. soon 10 turns into 20, he wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt but you made him feel like a fool— embarrassed that he stood outside of the girls dormitory looking like some kind of perv. he rubs the back of his neck in frustration as he pushes himself off the brick wall, ready to leave. a part of him wants to wait— the part of him that hopes you lost track of time and were rushing out to him but to no avail. even in the moment more he waits, he ends up leaving with his heart heavy and pride wounded.

he thought you weren't like the rest. he was so sure you were different from the people who gave him odd looks or comments on how quiet he was. it makes him wonder if you even meant anything in the library that day, weighing heavy on his mind as he walks to the banquet, alone and dejected.

don was acting quieter than usual.

which, for anyone who wasn't close with don wouldn't have noticed but the guys on crew— who he spent almost everyday with, noticed. it was abundantly clear as they sat around the table at the banquet enjoying their dinner. usually don would laugh along with the jokes being made, react to when someone was telling a story— it was a small tells that he was having a good time but there was none of that. he sat in his seat— eyes casted down on his plate, pushing around his peas. there was something obviously on his mind; the guys could tell. they pass knowing glances around each other, unanimously decided they just had to know what was wrong.

"hey don, you okay?" joe speaks up besides don. he has a blank stare down his plate, lost in his thoughts not paying attention to the current conversation at hand. "don?" joe calls again, nudging his arm against don's, snapping him from his reverie. looking over at joe like a deer caught in headlights.

"i said are you okay?" joe repeats himself, his mates looking at him with concerning gazes awaiting his answer.

"hm, yeah— 'm fine." don lamented, sounding like he was more trying to convince himself rather than his friends. they had wondered where he was before the banquet started and didn't see him until the dinner. bobby raises his worry for don, the other boys agreeing. don continues to deny but they weren't going to let it go. he should be enjoying winning gold at the olympics, something never done before in UW history— they didn't want whatever was on his mind to hinder that.

"come on don, you can trust us— whatever it is we'll understand, even give you advice if you need." roger speaks up this time, his voice laced with comfort. as much as the guys teased and joked, they truly cared about each other— after all the hardships they went through together, they stuck close. the quieter male was heavy with emotion and with a lot of his mind. he confines in them, a reluctant sigh passing through him as he tells them— he wonders what went through your head the day he spoke to you and the days leading up to tonight. he was excited to see you again, talk to you, get to know you even better but it was all thrown out the window when you flaked on him. don tries to not miss any details and by the end of his explanation, the boys were feeling a mix of emotions. some felt bad that don went through all that— going out of his element to ask out a girl he was interested in and other were upset that you'd have the balls to stand up someone with the purest intentions. it's hard to dislike someone who you've never met but after hearing what was weighing heavy on don's mind, bobby had made up his mind that he didn't like you. though he would never tell don but if he were to ever come across you, he'd be sure to give you a piece of his mind.

don doesn't see you as the days pass.

he continued to wonder how you were, what you could be going through. he couldn't bare the thought of something bad happening to you and as much as the guys tried to steer him away; his mind always came back to you. practice helps him take his mind of you for a few hours, he knew better than to slip up during their practices— their tireless efforts to get better never ceasing even after their win.

it was around evening time when practice ends. they’re tired; mentally and physically— it’s been a rough week in general. the last thing don expects is you standing at the entrance of the shell house, rocking on your heels. don stops dead in his tracks, his jaw slacks and heart drops. he doesn't notice bobby almost bumping into his whilst walking closely to catch up to him.

huffing, bobby was about to ask him what was the matter when he follows the line of sight of his friend, before either two of them could say anything— bobby is trudging towards you, don just letting him go, still shocked.

"are you y/n?" a man with cloudy blue eyes glares at you, he stands square; inches away from you. his presence intimidates you— you glower under his gaze unable to stand your ground. you can barely speak up against him.

"y-yes, is don around?" your eyes wander behind him and you see don standing a few feet back. you try to move around the man in front of you but he stops you.

"who the hell do you think you are huh?" he accuses, leaving no room for you to respond as he begins again "you charmed don and lead him on— you made him get his hopes up! you know i'm the one that encouraged him to take advantage of this *pure winners bliss* but you just had to come around and screw it up huh? made his biggest fear come true and for what—? to make don the laughing stock for your friends? he had the best intentions you know, all he wanted was for you to give him a chance and it was just flushed down the drain!” the man was fuming, unable to keep his voice level as his emotions got the best of him. soon the guys who were still getting dressed peeked out to see what all the commotion was about. a heavy silence falls between the two of you, tensions high. you feel small in front of him as he berated you about what happened with don. your eyes cast down, wringing your fingers as you tried to compose yourself.

don heard everything, watched as bobby yelled at you for everyone to hear— he should've stopped him, stopped him from even approaching you in the first place but he couldn't, he froze in his spot the second he saw you, he felt *awful*— what happened a few days ago on the back burner. it wasn't until it was over don suddenly gained feeling in his legs again. he hadn't felt this nervous since their race in the olympics. as he nears the two of you he hears you speak up. voice small and meek.

"i deserved that."

their coxswain huffs– brows furrowed “you know what you don’t deserve? his forgiveness because—“

“that’s enough bobby.” don rests his hand on his friends shoulder, motioning for him to go. bobby was hesitant but reluctantly, he leaves but not before giving you another glare. that leaves you with don, the resting frown on his face as he looks at you– you avoid his eyes, sheepish and feeling embarrassed for what happened. you didn't even know how to begin, you weren't sure if he would even listen to you, give you the time of day but you wouldn't know unless you tried.

“don i–“

“let’s take a walk hm?” he starts past you before you have a chance to reply, following after him as he walks down the port. there’s knots piling in his stomach as he walked ahead, his fists balled so tight in his pockets they began to feel numb, he had no idea how to go about this. he wasn’t even sure if he was ready to forgive you— but after seeing you get yelled at and berated by bobby, something inside him felt off. he couldn’t stay mad at you forever, the least he could do is hear you out.

the water splashing against the wooden beams of the deck fills the silence as don stops at the end, his back facing you. hands stuffed in his pockets and heart heavy. he didn’t say anything as moments pass so you take it as your cue to speak.

“don… i know i have no place in apologizing but i’m sorry and i understand if you never want to talk to me or forgive me for what i did” you pause for moment, watching his back– waiting for him to say something but you’re met with silence so you continue.

“i-i really wanted to go with you, i did! i was looking forward to it all week… i had a dressed picked out and everything! but when the day came—" you fault for a moment, your hands fiddling with your sleeves. eyes cast down "m-my parents called and my sister got into an accident… i went home for a couple of days and the whole time i was there; i just felt horrible for leaving you, and knowing how much i hurt you. i would make it up to you any way i can if you let me…”

the silence was deafening, you try your best from losing composure and crying on the spot. overcome with emotion— the silence was killing you as you waited for don to say something, anything— he could tell you he didn’t want to see you ever again and that would be enough for you.

"is your sister alright?" you let out a sound of surprise when he asked, doe eyes looking at him. he’s turned around now– the sun setting a glow that illuminates against his figure. you eyes focus on his face, nose slightly red from the cold.

"yes, she's perfectly fine now." you nod, wringing your hands. tears threatening to spill as you look at him.

don turns to look at you with a mix of emotions, his eyes filled with hurt and longing. you can see the conflict in his expression as he tries to process what you've said. after a moment of silence, he takes a step closer to you, closing the distance between you.

“you really hurt me you know.” he utters, voice fragile.

“yes and i would do anything to remedy that—” you’re desperate for his forgiveness, your voice sounding aspirated as you tell him. you’d go to the ends of the earth just for him to forgive you.

“and yet no matter how much i felt hurt by you, i couldn’t get you out of my mind.” he confesses, his voice soft and vulnerable. "i was angry and disappointed, but deep down, i still cared about you."

tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his words. the weight of the misunderstandings and missed opportunities of that day feels heavy on your shoulders. you reach out and gently take don's hands in yours, holding them tightly.

"i'm so sorry, don," you whisper, your voice filled with remorse. "i never meant to hurt you, i should’ve told you somehow… i’ve never regretted anything more in my life.”

don's grip on your hands tightens as the other dabs at the tears that fallen on your cheeks, his gaze never leaving yours.“i’ve never felt this way about anyone y/n, i hope you realize. you plague my mind day and night, these past few days where i was supposed to be upset with you; i was worrying if something bad happened, how you were feeling, what you were thinking.” he confesses, sorrow and regret lacing his voice “i thought what happened that day would make me loathe and resent you for hurting me… but i could never hate you, i can’t let what happened define our relationship.”

you look up at him with a glimmer of hope. you watch as he takes a deep breath, standing ever so closely.

“i want us to start again.” dons eyes shine a soft amber as he looks down at you, the sun encasing his features with a soft glow. illuminating the freckles that litter his face; imitating a galaxy of stars. he’s a dream come true.

a smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you feel a sense of relief wash over you. his expression softens as he sees the smile he’s come to adore so much, the tension that had been building between you starts to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and comfort.

“i promise, i will never hurt you like that ever again.” you say, your voice filled with earnest. don feels as if hes back in the common room with you, talking to you for the first time. he’s lovestruck and there was nothing that could happen that would get rid of it. he’s sure you’ll never do anything to break his trust again, your devotion now so clear to him.

“i know.” a crooked grin plastered on his lips, his arms wrapping around you in a soft but tight embrace. as if he were to let go you’d be gone again. he felt content, all the stresses from the week leaving him as he’s in your arms. a feeling he will never tire of.

“so how should we properly start again?” you breathed, your face incredibly close to dons. a soft flush crawling on your neck as you flicker from his lips to his eyes, him doing the same. it feels as if time stops as you share this moment together, drawing closer until your lips touch. the kiss is slow and tender— moving slowly as he relished on the way your lips feel on his. they’re soft and plush, fitting perfectly against his, like a breath of fresh air. he thought about what it would feel like to kiss you but nothing could compare his thoughts to the real thing. it was just you and him. his his hands rest against on your hips pulling you flush against him, your arms around his neck as he slightly dips you back. passion growing ever so slowly as he continues to kiss you, his kisses becoming more heated, the addictive feeling of your lips on his. he couldn’t get enough of you.

you break away from him reluctantly, mirrored heavy breaths as you look at each other with affectionate gazes. he clears his throat, composing himself. he pushes your hips back to create space between you. trying to fight the nerving urge to kiss you again as he looked at your rose tinted lips.

“i propose we properly take advantage of this winners bliss everyone keeps talking about.” a giggle escapes you as you embrace him again, this time he twirls you, in your own little world—happy with a profound adoration for each other. the sun setting behind you, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink.

the fact they won gold really hitting him now, considering he had a win of his own.

bonus.

“bobby! what could i do for you?” your brows jump in surprise as you look up from the book you’re reading, you had thought it was don since the spot you were in wasn’t as well known, the last person you expected to see was bobby.

“i just wanted to apologize about what happened… a week ago.” he trails off, looking sheepish in front of you. a stark contrast to the man that defended his friend so willingly against you.

“did don send you here?” you tease, a playful smile on your lips. bobby huffs, denying immediately. no, don did not send him to apologize. he came on his own accord, after what happened that evening. don was lovesick the moment he entered the dorms and bobby felt terrible for what he had did, even if he thought you deserved it at the time. he knows now that you make his friend happy and that’s all he cared about.

“don’t worry bobby, i forgive you. i needed that berating, i deserved it. you’re a really good friend to don you know.” you state matter-a-factly. looking at him with appreciation, bobby’s chest puffs at your praise. he crosses his arms over his chest, proud.

“oh i know, i was the one who encouraged him to go for it remember?” you laugh, nodding.

you guess you have bobby to thank for this, you'd have to mention this to don later... speaking of you'd have to tell you're friends about your new lover... speaking of friends:

“hey you’re not seeing anyone by chance?” you suddenly ask, bobby falters—taken aback from your question.

“uh, no. why?” he responded, his head quirking in curiosity from the sudden and a bit uncalled for question.

“no reason, i just feel like a friend of mine would really like you.” you shrug, returning to your book. bobby takes the book from your hands, resting it on the table.

he takes a seat across from you, his hands laced together. as if in a business meeting “say no more, what’s her name?”

he’s all in.

(this is how you and bobby became bffs btw.)

stars ending-ment! i honestly love how this came out and omg is this a segway to a bobby fic????? who knows... it could be hehe. (lmk if you guys would want that lol)

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

[newkatzkafe2023]

Hi there!, can you make a monkey queen Y/N as Jessica rabbit?, i'm quite curious how the wukongs along with other characters in their fandom reacts to the wukong's wife being a iconic asexual beauty!

OK here goes nothing😅

(Lmk Wukong) SIMP NUMBER 1!!!! Well he's constantly blushing around us. And stumbling over his feet and chokes alot trying to talk. But he's so funny you couldn't let somebody like him get away. He sometimes tries to front his bravito but you can see right though him and love him the same and he would melt of he can.

(NR Wukong) SIMP NUMBER 2!!! He's has so many nosebleeds around us that you fear, you may have to take him to the ER. He flirts Constantly and would spoil you alot. But he's a silly and hyperactive old man that loves and care for you very much.he make you Laugh all day everyday and that's will always be a win.

(MKR Wukong) You find yourself taking care of this dude. Is that angry little street cat?That just needs someone to care about him Genuinely. And we don't mind him and his violence A lot of the time it's warranted and we hate how the monk doesn't appreciate it. In other news pigsy is envious of Wukong and he loves to rub it in his face.

(HIB Wukong) Thinks this is a cruel sick joke. I mean somebody pretty and extraordinary Like you is giving him attention and the time of day. Who put you up to this And how much are they paying you? But when he finds that everything you do is legit And you display such patience and kindness. And you'll love to play patty cake with Luier and Silly girl After teaching them. He loves you so much He just doesn't know what to do🥰🥰🥰🥰.

(Netflix Wukong) SIMP NUMBER 3!!!! This guy is desperate to impress you. You are so pretty and catches the eye of many That he feels.He needs to go all out and change a little bit just to keep you near. But Sometimes he trips and messes up and he ends up Making you laugh. And with that you stood by his side Watching his silly antics as he make you giggle and cuddle him.

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

[allaboutnayeli]

all this lauren james discourse is making me not only angry, but also very much sad. imagine being a young black girl who looks up to lauren james, going on social media to obsess over her because young fans do that, and seeing all this racism in comment sections about her. not only a young black girl but imagine being a black girl in soccer seeing a black player who's making such a impact receive so much hate online that's just pure racism. how do you think she's going to feel? women's soccer is becoming bigger, more and more young girls are able to see women soccer players be respected and held in high regard. do all these great things... but only if they're white little girls. for black little girls they see their favorite black players being harassed and racially abused online over something that happens in a game.

y'all love to use black bodies as entertainment and for profit. y'all love black athletes when they win games for you, but when they make a mistake or slightly out act suddenly all the racism in this fandom pops out. i don't even think some of y'all see black players as human with the way a lot of woso fans talk about them. yes, lauren james sometimes act out of frustration and step on someone's foot, obviously that isn't right but she doesn't deserve racism 😐 in the most recent situation with lauren where it LOOKS like she had millie in a headlock was so bothersome to see and then for millie to turn around & like a comment & reply to that comment about the headlock is insane. THEN for some other engwnt players to comment or like that post? if i was lauren, i would be angry. they probably liked that post not even thinking about it but that's what so frustrating. these white players can go through this space not worrying racism. it's a privilege to just casually do something like that and not realize what could happen after. the fact jess carter who is black liked that post too / commented on it is ridiculous.

there are so many players who are more aggressive than lauren by far or act out way more than lauren. not just katie mccabe but there's players like lindsey horan who i have literally watch videos of her acting out on the pitch after an opponent does something to her.

some of you woso fans just want black players for entertainment but forget the person behind it. you want them to win you games and take your teams to great heights but treat them like shit. black women are dominating women's soccer right now. be thankful to lauren james because half of those chelsea/engwnt goals wouldn't exist without her. be thankful to trinity rodman for being a force on the field. be thankful to jaedyn shaw who's been scoring in nearly every game she starts for the uswnt. be thankful to khiara keating who is a brick wall at just nineteen. be thankful to bunny shaw who is a top scorer for man city. there are so many other black players i can list which just shows much impact they have on this sport. stop treating black players like shit because these teams y'all love so much wouldn't be anything without them.

[shiiro-arts]

Hi I'm new to your account and I'm very new to fairy tail. I like basically just finished binging the anime and watching what's out of the 100 yr quest anime and reading the released 100 yr quest manga chapters.

So yeah I'm new

And so far something I've seen in the fandom makes me think I have more understanding of the characters than some people lol.

Like I've already seen a bunch of natsu x Lucy vs natsu x Lisanna. But the way I see it is that Lisanna is prob one of the big natsu x Lucy shippers

SPOILERS AHEAD (Nothing big don't worry)

Ship wars are in every fandom, I'm surprised people are surprised that FT has them too, they are bored and want conflict, that's all.

And as you said, yes, Lisanna is a NaLu shipper, AND LET ME TELL YOU WHY

Because Lisanna doesn't feel anything for Natsu, AT ALL

I've said this before, if Lisanna had never died NaLi would have made sense, but she died and Natsu can't date a damn corpse (I know she comes backs later). What I'm surprised of is that people shipped NaLi even before of bringing her back(free my girl). She was "dead", the ship made no sense at all...

Lisanna was never supposed to come back, she was supposed to stay dead, That's one of the reasons NaLi will never happen, mashima never had anything planned for her, so it doesn't make sense if she ends up with Natsu.

Not only do they hardly interact anymore, it just wouldn't work. Imagine if your boyfriend spent all his time (literally ALL HIS TIME) with another girl (Lucy), slept in her house, went on adventures with her and was hyperfixated on her in general, yeah no thanks.

Mashima confirmed in an interview that after bringing her back he thought about making the love triangle, but felt bad about Lisanna because she would NOT win.

This is not me being a hater of Lisanna or NaLi, I love Lisanna and I don't give a single f about NaLi to be honest, people can ship whoever they want as long as it's not problematic and NaLi is one of the most normal ships in the fandom, people just like to hate

You tell'em Lisanna

[coco-loco-nut]

Touchdown

pairing: logan x reader

summary: Logan finally gets the college experience through his girlfriend

masterlist requests open

—————————————

The cool autumn breeze greets you as you exit your class. With a shiver, you wish that you grabbed the jacket like Logan suggested. In your defense, the sun was going down at 4pm now, and it was warmer when you left for your class.

“How was class?” Logan asks from your couch as you walk into your house.

“Boring, stupidest requirement ever,” you groan, heading up the stairs to your room. Logan has taken over the house you rent with your friends, and somehow they love him being here.

Since he got dropped from Williams, he kicked around the idea of staying with you rather than going back and forth between Florida and you.

You change into pajama pants and an old Purdue hoodie that you got on a visit during your senior year of high school. As you head back down the stairs with your laptop, you see Logan looking at you from the couch with a smile.

“How was your trip to Ohio?” You ask as you take a seat beside him. He got back from the Meyer Shank Racing headquarters on your way out the door, so you didn’t have a chance to ask earlier.

“It was good. If they bring me on you might have to transfer to Ohio State,” Logan pulls you close, burying his head into your shoulder. You immediately lean away in disgust. The only thing worse would be suggesting you transfer to Indiana.

“Don’t ever say that again,” your voice is firm as Logan raises his hands in defense.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles, pulling you back close to him.

“I will take back your ticket for Saturday,” you threaten, not letting him soothe the bristles. He loves how stubborn you are though, calls it part of your charm.

“Mhmm, who else will be there to listen to you complain about poor coaching decisions?”

“Lo, the team is one and eight. That one win came from an FCS team. Plenty of people in the stadium would love to complain with me,” you snort.

“See, I’m going because I love you. Should I show up in Penn State gear? Start a ‘We Are’ chant? Make myself look better for the fans?” Logan’s shit-eating grin somehow makes you smile despite part of you wanting to roll your eyes.

“Shut up,” you laugh, gently shoving him. “But yeah, you may want to do that. The chances of us winning against a playoff team is highly unlikely,”

“I’ll see what I can do then,” Logan kisses the side of your head as you open your laptop. “I’ll make dinner while you work on that,”

“Thanks, Lo,” you smile, watching him walk to your kitchen.

As much as you hate to admit it, a small part of you is happy that Logan was dropped. Every part of you wants him to succeed and be happy, but you cannot deny that is nice having him in America and close more than when he was with Williams. Even if it means him going to Ohio every once in a while for a test drive, you are happy.

Logan won’t admit it out loud either, but he loves the change of pace. He really hated the end of his time with Williams, and the fans were kind of right about his frat energy. He loves living college life through you and your roommates, and he likes that his talents can still be utilized through Indycar.

He peeks around the corner, watching as you concentrate on a math problem. The way you bite your lip, run a hand through your hair as you rack your brain for the right formula, he wouldn’t trade these small moments for anything.

Logan dutifully buys you food and hot chocolate at the game as you hold your seats with the girls. He did wear one of your hoodies, but jokingly joined a nearby tailgate of Penn State fans just to antagonize you. You found it funny, or else it is a break up worthy offense in your book. You don’t mess around your sports fandoms.

“Let’s go!” Logan cheers, turning to look at you. Your face has a mix of disbelief, but also disappointment in your expression. “Why aren’t you cheering, they scored a touchdown?”

“It’s double lined,” you groan, angered at the field design. “He was outside the end zone, the pylon marking the corner was right in front of him when he caught the ball,” you aren’t surprised that the situation is happening, but you didn’t expect it to be so silly.

“That’s so stupid,” Logan pouts for you, watching as the team kicks a field goal instead.

“At least it isn’t a shutout now,” you sigh.

“What’s worse, watching a tractor of a Williams or that team?” Logan asks as you leave, ready to hit the bars to drown the pain of staying the entire game.

“Williams, but only because I had to watch you suffer,” you lean into him, your friends having abandoned you in the middle of the second quarter.

“Well, I’m glad your suffering is over,” Logan chuckles, helping you expertly navigate the crowd.

“I’m really excited for your test drive. Your seat fitting made everything more real,” you smoothly change the topic.

“One step at a time,” Logan plays it down as you head to Harry’s. Luckily for you, you know a bartender well who happens to also be a huge motorsport fan. Every time you bring Logan with you, you immediately get in without paying cover.

“Y/n, come here,” Luke calls out as you pretend to not see him.

“Hey! Are the girls inside?” you ask, knowing he has a crush on your roommate. You and Logan are taking bets on when they get together or hook up.

“Yeah, go ahead,” Luke lets you in, both of you getting engulfed by the crowd as you find the table your roommates are at.

“I’ll get drinks, go ahead and order us food,” Logan says as you reach the table, going back into the crowd.

“How was the rest of the game?” Millie asks, sipping her almost empty cup.

“Cold and miserable,” you plop into one of the two saved seats.

“Maybe next week against Michigan State?” Lainey tries to add hope.

“We couldn’t even beat Northwestern, it’s time to turn our focus to basketball,” Valerie counters.

“We should’ve left when you did,” you sigh.

“It could be worse, you could be home sick like Kristen is,” Millie offers.

“True, should we bring her back some food?” you ask, looking at the menu despite knowing what you will order.

“Already ordered soup on Doordash for her,”

“Thanks Val, I’ll pay you back since it was my turn,” you pull up Venmo. You take turns doordashing food for each other when sick, a silly tradition you started as Freshmen.

You discuss the upcoming season for basketball until Logan returns.

“Perfect timing, the waitress is walking over now,” you smile, handing him the menu as you take your drink.

“To forgetting today’s game,” Lainey toasts once the waitress is gone, earning a round of cheers from your table.

As you continue drinking, the air feels light with laughter. Logan’s arm around your chair, you leaning into him, and the voices of your roommates ringing out as they playfully argue. Logan joins in, adding to what he thinks the best Barbie movie is.

That’s how you all find yourselves stumbling home, curling up in the living room, and watching what was decided as the best one.

“You guys are so loud,” Kristen groans from the couch, sounding very congested.

“Sorry K,” Millie practically yells, causing everyone to wince.

Logan leaves relatively early the next morning to fly out to California for his test, making sure there is coffee brewed to help your hangovers.

“You know, I’ve always been against boyfriends as an extra roommate, but I think Logan’s an exception,” Valerie says as she nurses her coffee.

“He said he’d help with the Christmas party,” Lainey adds, earning a nod of approval from Valerie.

“I’m glad you guys approve, it’s been hard with him being dropped,” you admit.

Logan has been living for the college life. He joins in on girls nights when invited, eagerly joining in on gossip and buying wine. He even wears face masks sometimes.

One day after Thanksgiving, you all return from classes to find the house decorated, even a tree in the living room.

“What the hell?” you ask, shocked at the decorations. Logan appears from the kitchen, a santa hat on his head as he carries a box of lights.

“I’m about to hang these on the porch, butter for tonight is set out,” Logan smiles, walking past your group.

“If you don’t marry him I will,” Kristen says, dropping her backpack.

“Ditto,” Lainey laughs.

“Shush,” you blush, heading to the kitchen to see the recipe cards pulled out as well as most of the ingredients you need for your cookie baking night.

The small things like that continue throughout the spring semester, so much so that the girls insist that he joins in one of your graduation pictures. Logan offers to use his connections to get you a job, but you refuse. You want to try different sectors and apply to them before utilizing his motorsport contacts.

“Congratulations,” Logan kisses you once he finds you and the girls.

“Thanks, Lo” you smile, full of pride.

He meets you and your parents back at the house the next day, a pang of sadness hitting both of you.

The house feels empty. You have been packing and moving boxes all week, preparing for graduation and moving on from Purdue. Only the essentials remain, a stark contrast from how Logan first came to know you and your roommates. For you and the girls, it’s the end of an era. You are all going your separate ways, spreading across the country.

“I’m going to miss this place,” Logan says, holding a box of your things. He stands beside you on the porch, looking inside. There is no sign that anyone actively lives in it other than a couple lights on and a fan running.

“Me too. I can’t wait to spend the summer following you though,” you smile, shifting the weight of a box in your arms.

“We will come back soon. Maybe Purdue will have a winning football record this year,” Logan says, eliciting a snort from you.

“Doubt it.”

[bicheetopuff]

I just saw the worst takes about bnha’s ending on Instagram (three days ago now, as of posting this). So, today we’re gonna talk about Izuocha, shonen homoeroticism, and fandom… not in that order though…

I: Fandom

Fandom culture for all media has basically always been a war zone that you have to actively avoid, usually with two defining sides: people who try to enjoy media the way they want to enjoy it, and the people who say that everyone is wrong and attack others who they don’t agree with. There are shades of gray on both sides, but in general this is usually the case. It’s never been “‘alphabet mafia’ vs ‘normal’” or “fanon vs canon” or “right vs wrong”… I almost always see people having fun being attacked unwarranted (I am not saying that people being legitimately problematic shouldn’t be called out, pls don’t get me wrong. I’m talking about innocent fun!). And I’m not just talking about dudebros attacking shippers, I’ve seen a lot of shippers attack non-shippers/other shippers of a different ship, and it’s almost always people just saying “you’re wrong, I’m right, and your take ruins this media piece of media for everyone else.” That being said, I wanna talk about the highlighted parts of these comments, okay? But first I need to explain the video that these comments were on.

It was a video by @/d_rich7 on Instagram, a big anime creator, talking about this tweet:

To summarize the video, he went on to say that he’s not surprised because bnha has the worst shipping community since Naruto and how Horikoshi probably felt forced into not confirming any ships because of “threats and hate mail” that he got from his fandom. I’ll come back to that but first I’ll talk about some of the comments:

“At least, they can say they weren’t the reason for the downfall of their anime.”

I've seen this take from different parts of the fandom, whether it was in regard to ships, todofam, or the villains. Just because the narrative of a story ends up matching the theories of people you disagree with, doesn't mean the story is going through a downfall. Just accept that you were wrong and move on. It is okay to not like certain aspects of the story and it's okay to discuss and criticize it, but pinning the blame on people who just happened to be right, no matter how much you hate it, is not okay.

“People need to stop demanding the literal CREATOR of a series to do things how they want it done…They to learn it’s not their story to tell…”

“…like I don’t get how people who have no impact on the writing of a story get mad because the CREATORS don’t wanna use their personal ideas.”

“…from now on imma blame the fandom for fucking up the anime/manga, we could’ve had a better ending if it wasn’t for them…”

Outside of the context, I actually agree with the sentiment that fans shouldn't feel so entitled that they think they have any control over the media they're consuming. But, the commenters don't realize that they're doing the exact thing that they’re talking about. They're convinced that the queer shipping community is the reason the creator decided not to confirm any relationship and are pissed off that the ship they were rooting for, didn't happen. Why are they exempt from this rule? Because straight ships are supposed to happen and queer ships aren't? Because the boy is supposed to win the girl at the end in order to develop a good shonen? I'll go into the misogynistic implications of that later.

Other than that, I have seen a lot of people on tumblr get mad about other things, like before, regarding to the villains and todofam drama to the point that they started insulting Hori. Like I said, it's okay to be mad. Being mad about something doesn't make you a bad person but it was never our story to tell. Criticism and hate, are two different things and come off very differently.

“MHA’s fandom is filled to the brim with toxic, no shower taking, furry loving, lgbtq idiots…”

Honestly I added this one because he's right. We're here, we're queer, and we're idiots in the best way possible. However, I think this also says the quiet part out loud when it comes to the hatred towards bnha and it's fandom.

Shipping communities in other fandoms don't get anywhere near as harassed as often as the shipping communities in the bnha fandom despite not being much different. The difference is, a lot of us identify as and are recognized as queer and Hori himself even recognized that the LGBT community especially took a liking to his manga. But, in other fandoms, it's only okay to consider queer ships if they're recognized by the cishet audience.

Most people in the aot fandom don't have an issue with eremin because it was something recognized and memed by straight men, even if it was mostly as a joke. The kny fandom doesn't care about inotan because it was also recognized and memed by straight men. Narusasu doesn't get much hate anymore because the straight men of their fandom also started to recognize the characters weird obsession with each other and it became more difficult to ignore the ship since there was literally multiple accidental kiss scenes--one of the few times where the source material actively encourages shipping. I can keep going too.

On the opposite end of the spectrum, non-shonen animes with majority cishet women as their audience, no one bats an eye at their ships either, because there's not enough men in their communities to tell them they should feel ashamed for their fanon content and their words hold no weight… and there’s a lot less queer people in those fandoms. You see the trend, right? It's almost like queer shipping is perfectly okay and mostly accepted as long as the community is either majority cishet men, or those men grant permission/approval for the specific ships or the piece of media wasn’t “meant for men.” Otherwise, it's seen as gross and cringe.

There was one other community that was kind of similar to bnha in a sense that it was mostly consumed by queer people and cishet men, where there was a lot of discourse on whether the two main characters were queer or not… which is the Buddy Daddies fandom. When the show was airing, those two sides that I talked about earlier were pretty apparent, with people having heated arguments about whether there were queer undertones or not. The cishet men of the fandom didn't give their approval to ship Rei and Kazuki, so it became an issue. Same with JJK now, more so with itafushi though. SatoSugu was given a somewhat stamp of approval but itafushi is still seen as taboo.

However, for some reason, every queer ship and character (even if it's canon) in bnha is seen as something shameful to recognize which I think is very telling considering how large the queer and disabled part of the fandom is. Minorities are being punished for relating to a manga with discrimination as one of it's core themes. Do what you want with that...

“…hate-mail just pushed him over the edge so he just scrapped everything just as punishment to spite them…”

This kind of references rumors from a few years ago about the shipping community sending hate mail and death threats towards Horikoshi and everyone just running with it without doing their research.

Horikoshi did receive death threats but it was about Dr.Garaki's original name which you can read about here. It was mostly the eastern side of the fandom being aggressive, even going as far as posting videos of them burning the volume where Garaki's name was revealed which isn't okay. However, everyone blamed it on the western shipping community... for whatever reason...

There was another instance where people in the western fandom started sending Horikoshi death threats on his twitter because of a chapter about Endeavor getting attacked by Dabi and an Nomu and the Todo family being worried about him, people claiming that Hori "deserved to die" for romanticizing and glorifying abuse (when that wasn't at all the case, I'm genuinely confused on how they interpreted that...). This came out six years ago but somehow is still narrowed down to the queer community and women being toxic... like what? Do you see my point now of it feeling like we need to be granted permission to do certain things in fandom if we don't want to be punished?

Also who was Hori punishing by not confirming any ships? If anything, I’ve seen most shippers appreciative than not…

II: Ochako Uraraka and her relationship with Izuku Midoriya

Back to that point about misogyny that I mentioned earlier...

"...I would have lowkey wish we got to see deku and ochaco end up together since their relationship was hinted from the beginning..."

Quick warning... this is gonna be a long point.

Yes, they were attracted to each other at the beginning, no one is denying that. No one is denying Ochako’s crush either. Izuku’s nervous around her for the first like 50-ish chapters because he's still used to having friends (especially a girl. If you think about it, if his childhood friends were the only friends he had ever had before getting shunned by his community, then he had never had a girl as a friend before... ever) but their relationship eventually mellows out into a normal friendship. Given Ochako and Toga's arc, I don't think Izuocha was ever destined to end romantically.

Toga was desperate to be loved by someone who accepted her for who she was while Ochako was desperate to be able to show love to someone who she truly admired. Ochako wanted to be like Deku and tried for a while until she realized that she couldn’t and shouldn’t want to be like Deku. She thinks he’s amazing but she realizes that she can’t strive to be like him because she’s already like him but wants to change.

(this is kind of off topic but I just want to point out what Ochako said about Toga being sad about not being able to totally become Jin. Correct me if I'm remembering wrong but, Toga was only able to ever transform into Ochako completely, quirk and all. I think there's an analogy there, where her being able to be just like someone possibly means she's in love with them but she convinces herself that she loves everyone equally. I think it's supposed to be saying that "even though you can't be him completely, doesn't mean you don't love him, you just don't love him in the way you thought you did" and I think Ochako realizes that because she possibly had the same realization with Izuku. Becoming him didn't work out for her because she didn't love him the way others told her she did... I guess it wasn't off topic... oh well.)

The highlighted parts can apply to Ochako too if you replace “bloodlust” with “envy”. She suffered the same issue that Toga did with other people telling her how and who to love which made her feel like she was supposed to be jealous.

She didn't like these feelings of jealousy, so she began to unintentionally be like Deku and hide them. I don't think she ever had an issue with loving Deku but she had an issue with the way she convinced herself of how she loved Deku made her feel. It made her feel like she was hiding something because I think she felt conflicted for not loving him the way everyone expected her to. All the way up to her final fight with Toga, we were only getting intel about her crush from other characters. Not her.

There's a lot of Mina just telling her what her feelings are despite Mina canonically not knowing much about love. Her crush has always been projected onto her which is why she's able to relate to Toga so well and wants to be more like her since Toga is able to live as herself so comfortably and broke away from conformity and what's expected of her.

Ochako's crush is only there because it's expected to be and her arc is meant to prove that she can be more than just the MCs love interest. Ochako's projected crush is Horikoshi trying to prove a point about basic shonen tropes which he's done time and time again throughout the story. SHE WANTS TO LIVE AND LOVE HOW SHE PLEASES WITHOUT SOCIETY TELLING HER HOW TO JUST LIKE TOGA WAS ABLE TO DO! I WILL KEEP SAYING IT UNTIL MY THROAT IS RAW AND DUDEBROS BEGIN TO FINALLY UNDERSTAND AND NOT VIEW FEMALE CHARACTERS AS NOTHING MORE THAN EYE CANDY FOR THE MALE CHARACTERS!!!

In the epilogue. she hides her feelings with a smile because she doesn't want to worry anyone (sound familiar?) so it only makes sense that it was Deku who pushed her to let out her feelings despite not practicing what he preaches. So, she embraced her inner Himiko and let out her feelings with her whole face. Those feeling just weren't for Deku... and they shouldn't have to be.

I genuinely feel like (especially with the way dudebros hate queer ships in this fandom) if Ochako was a boy, her arc wouldn't have been so widely misinterpreted. Because if he had talked about how amazing Izuku was and Mina came in and still said "It's love!" most fans would've taken it as a joke and/or even going as far as pointing out that the crush wasn't real because he didn't actually admit to it and it was projected onto him by other characters. But, the world ain't ready for that conversation.

"...I saw it as the fandom tryn to force their ships into the story 100% ruining key moments..."

I mainly added this quote because I thought it was so absurd. How do you see class-a coming to support Ochako as "omg it's the fandom forcing their agenda and controlling Hori through mind control to force their ships into the story and ruin this key moment,"??? Like, is it really so unthinkable that Horikoshi can have creative freedom outside the norm of treating girl characters as a trophy for the MC? You expected Izuku to marry her on the spot while she's having a mental breakdown? It's just... anyways...

III: Old-Gen Shonen Homoeroticism and it's Relation with Internalized Misogyny and how New-Gen is Changing That

The Shonen genre - especially old gen - is notorious for it's accidental misogyny, queerphobia, and racism. It got to the point where it's just kind of expected at this point.

The main one is usually misogyny. A lot of shonen mangaka like to write women as nothing more than eye candy and when they are actually given a personality and power, their character arcs are suddenly ignored/neglected and turned back into eye candy. Take Tsunade and Nezuko for example. We're told that they're important and powerful and yet they rarely do anything and almost never get important speaking lines and when we get to see them in action, the author makes sure to highlight certain parts of their bodies. Nezuko I think is an especially obvious one, being literally muzzled for most of the story, and when she powers up, she grows up and is suddenly given huge boobs...

Almost every shonen girls' character arcs revolves around a man and if not, then their existence is for the sake of a male character. I will say, I havent watched much shonen because of this aspect that's always apparent, but almost every older shonen I've watched, read, or seen other people talk about, it rears its ugly head at least once.

Because of that, most love interests weren’t given enough personality to actually form a meaningful relationship with the MC that the audience - especially female and queer audiences - can connect to. More often than not, it’s “I like her cuz she’s pretty” or “I like her cuz she likes me” and it’s irritating. And since these relationships are so shallow, authors are forced to create an interesting bond between the MC and a different character which usually ends up being the deuteragonist who is usually another boy more often than not. And boys in media written “for boys” are almost never neglected the way a girl would be, which is a sad truth.

These relationships almost always end up feeling like they’re passed the point of friendship and because of that, a lot of women and queer people end up shipping them instead of the canon love interest. Because their relationship being romantic actually makes sense most of the time.

BakuDeku, Eremin, KilluaGon, NaruSasu, ItaFushi, SatoSugu, IsaBachi, HideKan, GenoSai, LawLight, the list can go on for fucking ever.

However, in bnha and BakuDeku’s case, especially when the “canon” relationship with the “canon” love interest wasn’t really developed at all, and we never got a hint from Deku that he liked her, I don’t think this homoeroticism wasn’t intentional. Like with a lot of new-gen, there wasn’t really blatant misogyny towards the “love interest” present to explain away the closeness between the two male leads.

All of the roles a love interest would usually have, were given to Katsuki. He was damseled for Deku to save, he was Deku’s biggest cheerleader, he risked his life to save Deku, he died in Izuku’s honor, he showed up for Izuku when no one else thought to, he showed up to his hospital room and cried over the condition he was in, and then he devoted nearly a decade of his life trying to bring Izuku’s dream back into fruition… He cares so fucking much and Izuku cares right back. And no one can convince me that it was accidentally gay, because Horikoshi literally felt the need to tell AND remind us that Katsuki doesn’t like girls. Plus, like I said before, all of that was done without neglecting Uraraka’s character arc.

But even though all of that is in text, I think shonen bros just expect it while also expecting the main girl and boy to be together… because that’s how it always used to be. It wasn’t until new-gen - starting with mha - started to purposely parody dated shonen tropes and twisting them into their own stories that shonen bros began to feel threatened by queer ships. Because they know that there’s actually a chance of them happening now, and I feel like IzuOcha not being canonized is the beginning of a new trend. And misogynistic anime fans already hate it.

Conclusion - TLDR

uh idk what to say here.

In conclusion, fandom culture kinda sucks because of unexpected reasons, Ochako’s character arc is ignored for the sake of men wanting her to be Izuku’s prize and it’s irritating as fuck, and I think previously accidental homoeroticism in old-gen shonen is becoming purposeful in new-gen shonen as new-gen slowly becomes more progressive and less misogynistic. Oh and bkdk canon ig (I don’t think I’ve ever said that before, strangely enough…)

[vex91]

Ahn Yujin - Jealousy, jealousy

Pairing: Ahn Yujin x Female Reader (Highschool AU)

Fandom: IZ*ONE / IVE

Summary: You hated how perfect Ahn Yujin was or maybe you just hated her but only if you knew the hatred wasn't reciprocated then maybe you would realize stuff sooner.

A/N: Of course Yujin needs to be the first fic on this blog 🙂‍↕️

Part 2

3rd's POV

Ahn Yujin.

She was the definition of perfection. Perfect grades, perfect looks, perfect personality, perfect friends and perfect family - it was so hard to find any bad thing about her.

You on the other hand weren't that. Your grades were average at best, you weren't as pretty as her, your personality was often talked about as annoying, you only had 2 friends for your whole life and your relationship with your parents was shitty.

You were jealous of her whole life and it only fueled your hatred.

"Y/N come here" You looked up at the sound of your best friend's voice. Smiling you walked over to her "Rei, you're unusually cheerful today. Something finally happened between you and Jiwon?" Rei slapped your shoulder at your remark and shushed you quickly since Jiwon was close by with her friends. Well Jiwon knew about Rei's crush on her so you didn't know what Rei wanted to hide exactly but it's her business.

"Are you coming to that party at Gaeul's house?" Your best friend asked causing you to raise an eyebrow until you realized what she was talking about.

"I don't know, all annoying people from our school are gonna be there" Rei rolled her eyes at your comment before shaking your arm "Come on, it's gonna be fun. Me and Jiwon are going" The thought of going to a where you would see Yujin's face and also third-wheeling your best friends wasn't the most tempting one but you could never say no when Rei made that face.

"Fine but you're the one explaining everything to my parents when they find out"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here she was - Ahn Yujin in all her glory having fun with her friends. Honestly you should've guessed that she was gonna be there since it was her best friend's party but you really tried not to think about her and destroy your mood. As long as she would stay away from you then the party won't be so bad, you just need to focus on your friends.

It's easier said than done because it seemed like wherever you went, she was right there too.

You tried to keep your cool but it was harder and harder until you couldn't hold it in anymore and you exploded on her when she finally approached you.

Her reaction wasn't what you expected, she was standing still and completely not affected by your harsh words. It even amused her as she kept looking at you with a small smirk.

"What?"

Yujin shrugged "Nothing much, you just look cute when you're trying to yell at me from down there" You became red at her words, so now she was making fun of your height? This girl was unbelievable.

"Why are you always so-"

"So in love with you?"

You quickly closed your mouth, your ears became red at her words. Out if everything you weren't expecting that but honestly it was Yujin, she couldn't have been serious.

"Stop joking around"

"I'm not. Remember when you got so angry at the fact I won that science contest and destroyed my project after? I kept the pieces because they remind me how cute you looked that day when you were so determined to win. Or when you pushed me into water during our school trip to the beach, your laugh when you were with your friends later stayed in my head. I love everything about you" During her whole speech you were silent, the whole time you thought that she hated you, just like you hated her but now you're finding out it wasn't like that?

"Do you really hate her though"

Rei's words kept coming back to you as you stared at Yujin but the moment was interrupted by your phone suddenly calling. You looked down and cursed when you saw your mom's name displayed on it.

"I need to go" You quickly said and tried to push past her but she quickly held your hand to stop you. Without another word she walked you out of the house and onto the cold streets. Before the cold could hit you though she put on her jacket on you.

"I'll walk you home" Yujin loudly announced and before you could protest she added "I don't take no as an answer. You can hate me later, right now you look like you can't be alone... at least in my eyes" The staring competition between you two continued until you gave up and led the way while Yujin quietly followed after you with her hands in her pockets.

The whole way home was spend in silence, the only sound that could be heard were the cars passing by from time to time. Yujin felt weird seeing you like that, you rarely kept yourself from making some snarky comments to her that made her day every time. Weird but Yujin just liked any sort of communication she had with you, even if it was you being angry with her.

It was clear it was because of your family, Yujin could feel the cold aura coming off of the house from miles away, it was far from the place you would want to come back to. And seeing you clenching your fists before going to the door assured her of that and Yujin immediately stopped you. She didn't want you to in there.

You looked up at her confused and Yujin only looked away embarrassed. She thought of what to say before muttering "I can walk you to Rei's house, I'm sure she's back home and would be happy to let you stay the night" It looked like the idea was tempting to you but the fear of your parents made you hesitate. Yujin squeezed your hand and let you think about it more and soon you only nodded.

At Rei's house your parents kept blowing your phones with calls and messages but you didn't really care at that moment when you could only look at Yujin's disappearing figure with mixed feelings.

What was that night?

[m1ssunderstanding]

Notes on Nowhere Boy

Finally posting the long version of the close-watch I did for @sleeper9's Fete zine. The bad thing about me is I hate spending money and love pirating shitty quality versions of movies. The good thing about the Beatles fandom is we're used to dealing with grainy pics. Anyways, here goes!

The opening ten seconds really do set the tone for the film, and here's why. It's the opening of A Hard Day’s Night where the boys are running from a hoard of screaming fans and George biffs it. John sees him go down, laughs, and keeps running. Only here, it's just John. George’s fall has been erased, making John into a cocky, if slightly insane, little lone hero. 

Mimi: do I ignore you? No. So please don't ignore me. Me: ummm, yeah you do ignore him, Mimi. Enough to leave deep psychological scars. But it's fine. Moving on.

Ugh, Uncle George is so sweet! I wonder how much of John's sweetness he learned from him. I wish we knew more about him.

Actually that was Jim that set up a cord running into Paul's room from the radio downstairs. But it fits Uncle George's character, so it works. 

Why did they make Mendips look a lot more working class than it actually was? No fancy iron fence, no pretty hexagonal outcropping, no stained glass veranda? 

Aaron Taylor Johnson is nailing it though. The laugh sounds very John, and this posture? Perfect. 

Okay but if that doesn't heartbreakingly encapsulate John and Mimi I don't know what does. Uncle George has just died. John goes to Mimi, wraps her from behind in a tight embrace and lets out a sob. Her response is to push him away. “Please, let's not be silly. If you want to do that, go to your room.” Alright, it's making me feel things, it's winning me over. 

John making his cousin Stan go and ask Mimi where Julia is is also extremely accurate. Always had someone to do the dirty work for them, all of them. 

Mimi's concern as John's going to visit his mother in the “bad” part of town is very good to have in too. “And you will be careful, hmm? Careful who you talk to.” And John's response, “it's only Blackpool, Mimi.” It's true. It could've been Speke, or the Dingle. Which Quarryman did I read saying Mimi didn't like John even leaving Woolton?

John's hurt little face when he finds out his mum, all this time, has been less than a bus ride away is a very clever way to show us his painful confusion about the whole situation. 

Trying to remind myself that this is a very anti-Julia pro-Mimi movie that will try to make me think she's crazy. But it sure is doing a hell of a good job. She hasn't seen him in years and suddenly she's hand feeding him desserts, kissing him every chance she's got, flirting all over the place. “Do you know what it means? Rock and Roll? Sex.” “Don't tell Mimi, alright? This is our little secret. Promise me.” And to a poor affection-starved boy, that's going to feel good. That's going to put thoughts in his head like “this is how it should be”. I mean I know she was wild and fun and sexy and irresponsible. And I know John did have weird thoughts about her. But I hope she wasn't actually this crazy. 

But the weird Freudian thing aside, he's got to be so terribly confused hearing the woman who effectively abandoned him declaring her love for him. Between Mimi and Julia, John would've had such a messed up idea of what that word meant. 

The Daily Howl, my absolute beloved!!

Nowhere Boy John watching Elvis: damn I've gotta get the girls screaming for me like that! Actual John watching Elvis: he's so beautiful! He's perfect! I'm in love!

Also I do not think sixteen year old John was that good at fingering. Just saying. 

This part always drops my heart cold into my stomach. Poor John. Poor poor baby. You can hear his little boy voice calling, “mum? It's me.” And she mutters, very annoyed, “go away.” Again. I have to remind myself that this is a purposely negative portrait of Julia. But then. It is true that she was a mostly absent and wholly undependable figure in John's life. 

Sometimes dialogue is absolutely perfect. Like this – “Aw, why couldn't God make me Elvis Presley?” “Cause he was saving you for John Lennon.” “Aw I'll get you back for that, God!” And this – “you haven't told Mimi, have you?” “No point going through her bullocks if I don't have to.” “Why? She has to go through yours.” “Yeah well I never asked her to, did I?”

Ugh this whole movie just hurts so bad! How he looks to Julia as Mimi is ordering him out of her house, just begging her to claim him this time. And she doesn't until he makes a stand for himself. And then, later. “How long can I stay?” Is met with nothing. Not even a fake “long as you want, love.” It really plays into the title of the film. This boy's got nowhere to call home. And then, the final straw. Look at his face as he hears Julia agree that he does in fact need to go back to Mimi's. If I did that kind of thing, I'd actually be crying right now. Fuck, why was I knit-picking, this movie is working so well. 

 As he's announcing he's leaving Julia's, John wants her to tell him to stay. To at least pretend it's not what she wants. And she doesn't even look at him. Imagine if they did something like this in the John biopic mirrored with a scene with Paul in the breakup?

He's just so adorable looking at that guitar like he can't believe it's real.

John's gathered the og Quarrymen in the bathroom and Pete goes “I take it we're not here for a communal crap.” Idk Pete, wouldn't put it past him. It's not far off what you all do already.

It's making the Quarrymen look kinda cool here, and I really want them all to be shit except John, just because that's what I get from Paul's description. Not that he's biased or anything. He could've been watching John play with Elton John and David Bowie and he'd still say everyone faded into the background. 

Also Mimi would Not have been there. Not on her life. 

Okay now we're sort of seeing them from Paul's perspective. Bunch of losers surrounding this inimitable shining star. 

Accurate that the first thing John says to Paul is about jerking off. 

The dynamic in general is just so well-done in this first scene. John instantly testing Paul. How much shit will he put up with? And Paul instantly having none of it, showing off, and winning John over. 

All the other Quarrymen just know it's time to dust off the ole resume. 

But! Paul's fete “audition” is so toned down for this film. Although of course, accounts vary. He did 20 flight rock, yeah. But he also did it on someone's borrowed right hand guitar turned upside down. And he did little Richard and played the piano, and tuned John's guitar for him. In one telling of it, John says he asked him to be in the group right there on the spot. So. Yeah. 

But either way, watching John watch Paul is just gorgeously gay. It's giving extreme “Oooooh, he likes hiiiiiim!” It's actually illegal not to queerbate using Lennon/McCartney and I'm glad all moviemakers seem to understand the law.

Cut to “John, your little friend's here!” Can you imagine if they'd showed the “chalk and cheese” whirling dervish moment? Or Mimi making Paul use the back door? Those might change some thoughts and feelings in this movie. 

And then we get the reciprocated “Oooooh, he likes hiiiiiim!” Moment as Paul's too busy checking out John’s buddy Holly Look to remember where he is, let alone what cord they're on. And it's so sweet because Paul's the first person who gives John the idea that his real self is actually cooler than his tough-guy act. 

The little matching feet tapping?? Eee it's so cute! 

But why miss the opportunity for them to sing in harmony here?

Sometimes the dialogue is extremely inaccurate. “So mummy’s cool about baby Paul wanting to be Elvis?” “Oh she would've loved it.” Like hell she would've. She would've been as disapproving as Mimi. Then again, maybe it is accurate for Paul to be lying about that.

“Well she – she sort of – died. You know, em. If we're gonna do this we should write our own stuff.” Okay yep there he is. That's Paul. 

Also love how John gets his first calluses after Paul the bossy taskmaster comes into his life. (You know. And the reason to push himself and a person who cares enough to take the time to show him things and it makes John all dreamy staring at the stars that night etc) Anyway. It's perfect. 

And the first gig we see after Paul joins is in a venue on a real stage with a much bigger audience, and the matching suits of course. 

Mimi selling John's guitar because of a bad report card is like the lighter, kinder translation of what happened in reality when she had his dog put down while he was staying at Julia's. 

So they kinda make up for not letting Paul sing etc by having him nail the guitar instead of screw up at this gig like he did irl. 

And he's stealing Julia's attention, which is clearly Not okay with John. Reminds me of that quote of Paul's about how they were both in love with John's mum. 

George is appropriately infantile. Good. Cutie. 

The Quarrymen playing “That's Alright, Mama” as John's making up with Julia since she bought his guitar back for him. Okay. Very clever. 

Paul does Not like John disrespecting his mother after the show for obvious reasons. (“I said something wrong now I long for yesterday.”) But clearly he doesn't have the full picture here. I wonder at what point irl Paul got a full run-down from John on his messed-up family life. Or did he just have to pull it together piece by piece over the years?

And of course he jumps to light Julia's cigarette. Boy was patting his pocket for a lighter like it was the race of his life. Mister steal your mum.

Here we are, ladies and gentlemen, Paul McCartney’s number two complaint about this movie: John was Not taller than him. How dare they? Slander.  

That's one hell of a jacket.

At the party, John's of course pissed to find Paul serenading Julia in the kitchen. But Paul just wants a mommy so bad, John. Why can't you just let him have yours since you clearly don't want her? Right, because you really, really do. More than anyone can understand. But when you showed her that – how bad you wanted her to be your mum, not just a friend – she hurt you. Forced you to go through your abandonment all over again. So now you can't show that anymore. 

The washboard over Pete's head is almost exactly accurate, isn't it? John does not handle people leaving him well. 

Ugh his little voice cracking on the word “mum.” John Lennon is a poor poor baby and I will die on that hill.

I wonder how John did find out about Victoria and the real story of why he was with Mimi. No matter how, though, that's certainly a lot of mess for a young man to be carrying around with him all the time in his head. 

“When your father came back from the merchant Navy, he wanted to try and save the marriage, but your mother would have none of it.” I do feel like we're going with Alf’s version of events here, the one he sold John in order to get into his good graces after he was famous. Which is, again, not fair to Julia. I wonder how little Julia feels about this movie. 

In fact, I think this part –  “who do you wanna be with, John? Do you wanna be with me or do you wanna be with your mum?” – has been categorically disproven. But it certainly does make for some high drama. And John himself did believe his father's story, so there has to be at least some emotional truth there. 

Nowhere Boy John: There's no point in hating someone you love. I mean really love. IRL John: How do you sleep, you cunt?!

There he is. Art School John. Though he fell in love with every iteration of John, I think this one never left his head because he was one of the earliest Johns, and he was a John Paul had to fight for, you know, with all the Stu business and dead mother anger.

He really does an excellent job of playing John, though, when he's written right. “Woman took her kit off and we painted her breasts. Not actually physically. I got my eye on you two.” Ridiculous. Charming. Off- putting. Adorable. 

Ignoring the fact that I prefer to think of “Hello, Little Girl” as being about Paul (“you never seem to see me standing there”) and they're making it about Julia, this is a lovely scene. With John somewhat unsure still of his songwriting abilities and Paul looking up at him from the floor full of admiration. 

Oh he's gonna murder someone. To be fair, I think playing Julia's banjo at her funeral is exactly the type of insensitive thing Paul would do, because he just thinks and feels in music and it makes Sense to him even though of course it's going to piss John off. 

Hilarious, and probably accurate tbh, that Paul's pissed John off so he gives Pete a bloody nose.

But here we go, the number one complaint about this movie from Paul, which I think is actually valid. John never hit him and that was important to both of them and it's disrespectful to portray it and play into the myth of their rocky, angry relationship. 

But maybe in 2009 that's what it took for them to be able to show John Lennon and Paul McCartney in a genuine, loving embrace, crying into each other's necks about mothers. It has to be preceded by John punching Paul in the mouth. 

If I was John's writing partner, my biggest beef with this movie would actually be the scene where they're recording ISOATD and making it look like John wrote it and played the guitar solo. But Paul's never even mentioned it. Which I guess really shows he cares far more about the legacy of his relationship with John than his career legacy. Which. If you mean more to Paul McCartney than his fucking music? Well then you must be just about important enough to have your own movie. 

This is really the Vote for Mimi Smith campaign, isn't it? Putting across the screen the fact that John called Mimi every week until he died as “Mother” plays in the background is brutal. Ouch. But it's true. “It's Mimi time.”

[p4p4y4princess]

Every time I go on tiktok, I just get angry. Like I've not mentioned the hate after Brazil as a Lando supporter because I choose to tune it out because I'm unwell myself and can't handle the stress of worrying about a man who doesn't know about me, parasocial relationships aside, I do not know this man but I do know what the women and fem presenting people in the F1 fandom go through.

It's not just the "What's DRS then?" joke. It's the sarcasm and snarky comments on every Lando or Carlos or Charles or Oscar (or anyone really) supporter who happens to be a girl's posts. It's the bullying of TEENAGERS by grown men for finding a celebrity attractive or entertaining. When men lust over the WAGs, when the tabloids reported on drivers groping women in the backs of cars and spraying champagne up grid girls' skirts: it gets continuously brushed under the rug because there will always be the power imbalance and a sexist angle in every aspect of this sport because if a woman opens her mouth about liking a driver, she's ruining the sport but when Ayrton Senna dated a 15 year old girl, he was a hero and a different time.

I think of Rush as a film so often and that Chris Hemsworth as James Hunt said that it's not the driving that gets girls to like the drivers, it's the thrill of it all which I think has some weight to it while misogynistic but there's only so much grace you can give James Hunt in this conversation. We look at drivers of the past and those who have grown with decorum and not acted like a fool whilst in Formula 1 or post retirement as this shining light of movement in the F1 world. Seb Vettel was objectively a little shit when he was at RB and look what a shining example he is now, there's room for change, kindness and learning in a sport like this.

We all get used to this misogyny at times, we take the blows given out for having an interest, we get reminded of our places in society in a patriarchy like F1 and we do it because we want that morsel of respect. We fall to it sometimes, personally I've seen multiple girls and fem presenting people make the joke of "why are we sexualizing the drivers?" "why do you have to make everything weird?" May it be the constant willingness to shrink ourselves into the background and be the ones who don't cause a fuss or make our excitement the loudest but if you are in that either end of that situation, I see you and I hear you. You are allowed to be happy. You are allowed to be as loud and as proud as you want to be about your favourite drivers and teams. Defend that shit with your life if that is your joy, do not let anyone take that from you but understand every action has a reaction and if you have a disdain for your fellow girl, please ask yourself why.

The girls are in the academies, baby girls are growing up in garages and in front of TV's in awe of fast, brightly coloured cars, freshly 18 year old women are becoming motorsports students and interning on go-kart tracks and mechanics. Let's not crush their dreams by letting misogyny no matter how miniscule win.

[searchingforgravity]

Graceland Experience - PART 5

Fandom: Elvis/Elvis (2022)

Prompt: The next stop you need to make is one to the library to find out if you have any chance of making your way back home. Then, you explore Elvis' room.

TW: Brief mention of sex, mention of sex toys and objects, implied smoking, profanity

Word Count: 2801

A/N: Sorry for the slow burn with this series guys, but it will be worth it!

"Hey, I'm sorry about last night. I just really thought you were a nutcase, Y'know?" Sonny laughs nervously before shoveling a plateful of food in his mouth.

Everyone at the table looks to the two of you. You, Sonny, Elvis, and Jerry all sit at the kitchen table. You are surprised that they let you sit to breakfast with them, but they've all seemed to accept the fact that you're not crazy. They still look at you with curiosity. You're the exciting new topic in the house. The girl with amnesia.

You absolutely hate it.

"Yeah, it's fine," you say quickly, focusing now on your plate of food, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

"I mean, you really had me goin' there," he laughs.

Annoyed, you pick at your food refusing to respond. There is an awkward beat as everyone turns back to their food.

"Thought you were just batshit cr-"

"Sonny! Fuck off," Elvis grumbles, not amused.

Your body flushes in embarrassment. Looking across the table to Elvis, he meets your gaze, his cheeks flushed with anger.

You quickly look away.

God, how you wished there was another girl in this house. Most of the time, it's just the boys.

"Right," Sonny snaps, clearly offended.

Silence again.

You look over at Jerry. It's so odd, he's just a teenager. You recall all of the photos you've seen of his as an older man, and it's surreal. You watch as he makes a joke to Elvis, trying to win his approval. Elvis chuckles. Jerry's eyes light up as he shoves a forkful of eggs in his mouth.

It's so surreal.

After another moment, you let your gaze wander around the room. You haven't really had the chance to see it since you've been here. The house is buzzing. It's so full of life. This is what you've dreamed of.

You can feel someone watching you.

Looking back to the table, Elvis is watching you intently, like he's trying to read your mind. When he catches your eye, he doesn't look away. Instead he gives you a curious look, lingering.

You clear your throat in thought. Should you say something?

"So, do fans line up outside your door all the time?" You ask.

Stupid question.

Everyone looks at you again. Everyone looks dumbstruck by your question, like you don't live in 1961.

"Are you kiddin' me?! Every day! They love Elvis, it's almost scary. Gosh you aren't a fan are you?" Jerry suddenly pipes up, teenage boy energy bursting.

Your face flushes.

"No! I am obviously, you're amaz-" you start, then stop.

Elvis gives a smug grin, crossing his arms.

"I mean-."

Oh God, stop talking.

Before anyone can comment further, Elvis speaks up, sparing you the spotlight.

"Yeah, I really appreciate all the love. I don't deserve it sometimes."

"Aw, c'mon E, sure you do! Hey, remember those two girls that mailed themselves to the house? That was crazy, man. Now they were batshit. But they were cute girls. You're so lucky, you can get all the tail you want. And you did get some action with one of 'em right? Or was it both?"

Well, there's that. Elvis' cheeks flush as he shoves Jerry by his shoulder.

"Jer, come on, there's a lady at the table."

Jerry glances over at you looking like a dog with his tail caught between his legs.

"Oh, right. Sorry ma'am."

You tell him it's okay as you try not to laugh.

---

"Hey, Elvis?" You ask, catching up with him after breakfast as Sonny and Jerry go outside to the stables, him following closely behind.

Elvis turns to you.

"Yeah, what's up, honey?"

You hesitate. It might be a risk.

"Do you remember asking me if there is anything I needed last night?"

"Yes, I remember."

Here goes nothing.

"I was actually wondering if I could get a ride to the library."

"The library? I don't see why not. If you want some books, you can write down which ones you want and I have a guy that goes out and gets things for me."

That won't exactly work. You don't want written evidence of you requesting time travel books.

"Well, I actually wanted to go myself."

He gives you a sideways glance.

"Are you sure that would be a good idea? Don't you need some rest for your memory?"

"I think it might be good if I go out. Maybe it could help jog a few things in my mind."

Good thinking.

"Hm, maybe you're right. It seems you got some memory back. At least I know you're a fan," he teases, winking at you.

Your cheeks burn as you look to the ground. There's a brief awkward silence.

He clears his throat before continuing.

"Well I can't go with ya, but I'll tell Sonny to give you a ride. How does this afternoon sound?"

"That sounds amazing. Thank you."

---

Getting into the car with Sonny, you're suddenly nervous. You are about to go out in public in 1961. You still partially believe you are in some crazy dream. You look down at your outfit, making sure you look the part, and you do. You are wearing a simple pink shift dress. You aren't usually one to wear a ton of dresses, but you certainly can't wear your usual clothing now. And you have to admit to yourself that you are starting to enjoy wearing these dresses. Elvis had some ordered to the house once he realized you might be at Graceland for more than a few days.

"Hey, uh, I know I said it already, but I am sorry for acting that way last night. Just been high strung the past few days, I guess," Sonny says awkwardly as he starts the car.

"It's okay. I understand, I don't blame you, really. No one knows me here," you relent, looking out the window.

"Yeah. You don't seem too bad, though. It's been nice I guess having something to focus on. It was startin' to get boring around here. Elvis hates boring," he laughs, the southern drawl peeping out of his voice.

You hadn't noticed it before.

You aren't sure how you feel about Sonny taking you to the library, you aren't sure if you like him yet, but he was your only option and you had to take the opportunity.

Sonny turns the car, heading for the back of the house, to your surprise. The front entrance leaving your line of view.

"I thought we were going out the front way."

At this, Sonny gives a genuine laugh.

"No, honey, we almost never use the front entrance. Do you know how many people are out there? Hundreds. We wouldn't get to the library before it closes."

You turn your body as you try to look and see if you can get a glimpse of the fans out front, but it's too late, the entrance is already out of sight.

---

When you get inside the library, it's quiet. There are a few people wandering around, but other than that it's empty. It's not so different from a modern library, except there are no computers. Only books. It's insane to see. Everyone you see are either in dresses or the men in slacks. Some men wearing hats. You see an older man with a hat covering his face as he nods in an out of sleep on a chair in the corner of the non-fiction section. It's all so different and yet, somehow not.

You were preparing for Sonny to come in with you, which would be a challenge to hide what you're getting from him, but he said he'd stay in the car if you wouldn't take too long.

You make your way to the fiction section as you start your search. you hope they have something here that can help you. As you look through the limited selection, you're about to give up when you see A Sound of Thunder by Ray Bradbury. You remember seeing this book while you were writing a paper about the author in high school. You pluck it out of its place and turn it to the back cover, skimming over the words.

Ah, yes. A man who travels back in time and discovers even small actions have big consequences. You make a mental note of that. You decide to pick out a random book as well in case anyone asks you what you got. Looking for a romance, you see a booked called Loyal and All by Mary Burchell. After taking a quick skim of the back, it looks to be up your alley.

You're about to head to the check out when one more catches your eye. A pebble in the sky. Hm. You pick it up and read the back. A man is accidentally sent to the future. Similar to your situation, only you went to the past. This could give some insight.

You decide to pick that one as well as you head to the front. A gentle looking older woman greets you.

"Hello, dear. Did you find what you were looking for today?" She asks pleasantly.

You smile.

"Yes, thank you. Just these three please," you say in return, placing the books on the table.

She glances at them.

"Ah, time travel. I love hearing those stories. I wonder if it will ever come to be one day. I would like to go back and see Louis Armstrong in his prime. I love that man's voice."

You laugh to yourself. That's what you thought about Elvis about a week ago. Now you don't know what to think.

"I'll need to see your library card, dear."

Shit. A library card.

"Oh, I don't have one, I just moved here recently," you say a little too quickly.

She doesn't seem to take note of it.

"Not a problem! I'll just have you fill out this paper and you can take these home with you today."

A paper. Then you think of the butterfly effect. Will something as small as filling out a paper change the course of history? You're not sure. But you need these books.

"Oh, you know what, that's alright. I'll just put them back. I might not be staying for too long, it's a little up in the air at the moment," you respond trying not to sound nervous.

"Oh, alright, if you're sure."

You assure her that you are as you head over to the shelves.

You can't leave without these books, but how are you going to get past the counter without her seeing you? You look around for a distraction and it isn't long before you find one. There's a kid's section with two children about the ago of three running around playing. Setting the books down on a shelf near the exit, you go back up to the check out desk.

"Hi, I'm so sorry, but I think I just saw a child get sick in the children's section. I saw him running around with a friend."

At this, she sighs.

"Sometimes I wonder if the parents watch their children at all while they're here. Thanks, dear," she says before leaving the desk and walking towards the far section of the library.

Perfect.

You're about to run out when you see complimentary bags on a table near the door. You snag one before shoving the books in the bag and exiting the way you came.

You huff as you get in the passenger seat of the car.

"That was a fast exit, what did you steal 'em?" Sonny laughs as he pulls out, turning out of the lot.

You laugh nervously.

"A kid got sick," you lie as you glance down in the bag.

Sonny makes a sound of disgust as he pulls a cigarette out of his breast pocket before lighting it.

"That's why I don't like libraries."

---

Good, you've got the books, now you just need to do one more thing before you can relax.

Get into Elvis' room. That might not be too difficult seeing as he's still rehearsing for the upcoming film. After dinner, while everyone heads downstairs, you say that you are going to read for a while in the living room.

As soon as you hear them moving around downstairs, you spring into action. Climbing the stairs two at a time, you hurry until you come to a halt at his door, firmly closed.

You take a deep breath, then a second one. You listen for a moment to make sure no one is upstairs. There is complete silence. Your hand shakes as you bring it to the door knob. You need to be quick about this. You turn it and it opens with ease.

Looking inside, you are awestruck. It's a spitting image of the pictures you've seen. You can't believe you're actually in here. A room that not even president's can enter in your own time. It feels magical. You can smell the scent of Elvis all around you. It's intoxicating. You feel invasive, like you shouldn't be in here. But you need to make sure.

First walking to the closet, you open it gently as to not make any noise. You crouch down and look to see if there are any hiding spots. You see a box.

Opening it hastily, it takes you a moment to realize what exactly you're looking it, then it dawns on you.

Pictures of his mom. other small trinket items that you assume belong to his mother.

You gently shut the box and put it back where it belongs. Okay, time to look somewhere else. You check briefly to make sure there are no more hiding places in the closet before getting off the floor and closing the door. Looking around, you spot Elvis' dresser. Quietly walking over to it, You decide to start at the top as you open the first one. When you open the top drawer, you see a polaroid camera. Hm. Then you see handcuffs? Polaroids? For the second time, it takes you a moment to realize what exactly you're looking at.

"Oh,"You gasp as you see what, or rather who, is on the polaroids, quickly shutting the drawer.

Multiple different women, and one or two of him. Nude. Your face flushes all the way to your ears in embarrassment. You've heard stories of him liking that kind of thing, but you never thought you'd actually see it. All the sudden, you hear something.

"One second man, I gotta piss," Elvis calls down to someone as he climbs the steps to his room.

Oh no.

Your heart leaps in your chest as your eyes go wide. Oh God, what are you going to do? You look around and see his closet. It's your only option right now. You run over and gently open it before closing it on yourself, blanketed in complete darkness. You close the closet just in time as you hear the door to his bedroom open.

You hear him sigh as he shuts the door behind him. All the sudden, he stops walking. You can't breathe. What if he opens the closet door to grab something?

"What in the hell?" he mutters, and you can hear him walk away from you and go to his dresser drawer.

That's when you remember. You didn't shut it.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

You hear him open the drawer more, and look around in it. You wish you could tell what he was thinking. He is silent for a long moment before you hear the drawer close again and he makes his way to the bathroom. He shuts the door. Thank God.

You hear him start using the toilet and think this is your best shot at leaving. Opening the closet as softly as you can, you slip out before shutting it just as slow. Tip-toeing across the floor as gently as you can manage, you finally reach the door and grab the knob. Then you hear him starting to wash his hands. Eyes widening, you open the door.

You sigh silently as you quietly shut the door behind you. You walk over to the staircase just in time for him to open the door, leaving his room.

"Oh, hey, I didn't know you were up here. Thought you were readin' in the living room," Elvis remarks as he walks in your direction.

"I was, but I needed to use the bathroom," you lie, pointing in the direction of the room you've been staying in.

"Oh, yeah, me too," Elvis chuckles, but the humor doesn't fully reach his eyes.

Whether that's because he's suspicious of you or not, you don't know. What you do know is, that was too close of a call.

Way too close.

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