#they are the backbone of our gay society

[justfranzz]

"Anyway, follow me on tumblr :))"

[warlenys]

house writers said ok gay people if you wanna see these old men fuck each other then you can have a bunch of gay scenes but they’re gonna be pissing in all of them. it’s like a backfired genie wish. you want their dicks out??? ok. piss. and like if u really want it then sure they can ride off into the sunset together but not before one of them’s fucking pissed again. final scene final piss. one last piss to end it all. it’s what you sickos deserve

[penpen363]

I need a biker Edward x drives a convertible Stede so I’m writing smth for it bc I’m tired of tryna find stuff that prolly doesn’t exist. Also someone give me ideas of what their jobs should be please.

[wasabikitcat]

This might just sound like semantics but I feel like some of you guys are too obsessed with "normalization" when what really matters first and foremost is acceptance. A lot of these fringe gender identities and sexualities are never going to be "normal" in the public eye and that's okay because being normal blows and is lame. There's always going to be people who don't like you for some aspect of your identity and no amount of normalization is going to change that because some people are just assholes who don't like anyone who isn't generic and conforming to social expectations. There is no changing this.

What is worth changing is acceptance. People are always going to think other people are weird and it's their right to feel that way, but "weird" people shouldn't have to live in fear that those people who don't like them will decide to physically harm them or take away their rights to live how they want. We need to create a culture in which everyone accepts that some people are just weird in their opinion, but it's never even remotely acceptable to cause harm to someone just because they're "weird" and that makes you uncomfortable.

We don't need to live in a world where everything is "normalized" and they're teaching kids about xenogenders in school or whatever because that's A. Never going to happen and B. Why would you want to be normal anyways? Be weird, who give a shit. But the world we should live in is a place where being weird means some people are just not going to like you, rather than some people are going to try and make your life hell just because they don't like you.

We don't need to be normal, we just want the right to be weird.

[willbyersenthusiast]

totally not guilty……

me reading about the same two characters falling in love over and over again in new settings

[celluceta]

you.

heart pirates enjoyer.

first of all, im relatively new to tumblr is it rude to call someone gay in their askbox because of a fandom / character they enjoy? (in a /pos way)

also you are the backbone of our society and i love you

DKJFHKSDFJS I'm new to tumblr too so dw!

I don't mind being called that at all, haha! Also thank you sm aaa😭🩷

[bagofbonesmp3]

gay Brazilian men are the backbone of our society

[harringrove-heroes]

oh hell no from here on out i'm only watching shows that have been put in the ground ok fuck this. y'all got me so scared for next season of wwdits ✋ creators be killing our gays in 2023, they're wrecking our ships. nope. i'm over getting my hopes up. from here on out i'm not touching something unless it's already dead and gone. that’s why joining the harringrove fandom post season 3 worked so well for me. i think watching that finale (you know the one) would have obliterated me and stolen my joy for making harringrove content. i am so genuinely imressed with all the harringrovers who have been here since day 1 you're stronger than any US marine. you are the backbone of society. you are untouchable and i love you all.

[dead-lesbians]

I think about this. Literally every day. I don’t think anyone understands how this fucked me up (/pos). I could write a whole ass essay on this but it’s almost 6am so I’m too tired to. But love having an autistic character that’s dumb as shit and fucks so hard. The autism I aspire to be…

BEN IS CANNONLY AUTISTIC LETS GOO!!!

[crguang]

also the fanart for PTN is so fucking gorgeous, never been fed so well as a gay ass mf ever before.

man. i am down astronomical.

im on twitter rubbing my belly every time some fanart gets on my tl, artists are the backbone of our society

[vessels-for-good-intent]

Not A Vessel For Your Good Intent

Daisy speaks up that hot, hot August 28th. She refuses to let Jay ruin himself over her anymore, even if it means giving him up.

Title from The Crane Wives Tongues & Teeth

Relationships: Daisy Buchanan/Jay Gatsby, Daisy Buchanan/Tom Buchanan, Nick Carraway & Jay Gatsby, Daisy Buchanan & Jordan Baker

Characters: Daisy Buchanan, Jay Gatsby, Tom Buchanan, Nick Carraway, Jordan Baker, Pamela Buchanan

Tags: Angst, POV First Person, Daisy has a fucking backbone, Writing Fitzgerald’s Women Better, the hotel scene, jay gatsby knows about cars, Unrequited Love, Mixed Jay Gatsby, it’s vaguely alluded to, barely applicable here but it does come up later, Gay Nick Carraway, POV Daisy Buchanan, vaguely aro daisy?, i don’t really like daisy but she needs to be heard, tongues and teeth is about her & jay’s relationship actually, Hurt No Comfort, (yet), Jay Gatsby is a Car Guy, yes i finally have a use for my knowledge

It was the hottest day I could remember, and we were having a party. A party, in heat like this! But Jay and Nick both agreed to come even in the immense heat.

Tom’s woman had called, and I watched Jay with cautious eyes. His hair, already a dark copper, had turned darker with perspiration, eyes drawing up in anger as he heard the increasingly loud conversation. Nick only swiped at his neck, the skin damp with sweat, his eyes flicking nervously between us.

“Very well, then. I won’t sell you the car at all…. I’m under no obligations at to you at all… and as for your bothering me about it at lunch time, I won’t stand that at all!” Tom spoke.

“Holding down the receiver,” I said, shaking my head.

“No, he’s not,” Nick said, trying to reassure me. “It’s a bona-fide deal. I happen to know about it.”

Tom flung open the door, offering his hand out for Jay to shake. “Mr. Gatsby! I’m glad to see you, sir… Nick.” The dislike was well-hidden, but I could notice it.

Wanting to end the growing tension, I urged him to make us a cold drink. As he left the room, I flew to him, pulling his face down to mine. “You know I love you,” I murmured, kissing him.

“You forget there’s a lady present,” Jordan interjected. I stared balefully at her.

“You kiss Nick too,” I said. At this, Nick blushed slightly.

“What a low, vulgar girl!” she said.

“I don’t care!” I cried, instinctively moving to clog the fireplace. Jordan grabbed my arm.

“It’s too hot for that, Daisy,” she said, leading me back to the couch. My daughter entered the room.

“Hello Pammy,” I said kindly. I always felt guilty for leaving her with a nurse, but it was demanded of high society ladies. The nurse let her go, and she ran to clutch at my dress.

“Pammy,” I murmured to her.

“Where’s Daddy?” she asked.

“He’s getting drinks for cousin Nick and Mr. Gatsby. Say how-de-do, Pammy.”

“Hello,” Pammy said, soft.

She peaked out from behind my skirts, and Jay looked surprised. Had he not known I had a daughter?

Jay and Nick both knelt slightly, reaching to take her hand in turn. “It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Buchanan,” his voice hiding the shock on his face.

“I have business to get to with Nick and Mr. Gatsby, Pammy, alright? I’ll see you tonight. I love you, sweet thing,” I say, and she reluctantly turns back to her nurse. Tom enters after she leaves, carrying four gin rickeys chock-full of ice.

“They certainly look cool,” Jay says, his fingers wiping away the condensate from his glass. We grab our drinks then, taking long swallows of the cool liquid.

“I read somewhere that the sun’s getting hotter every year,” said Tom, trying to make conversation. “It seems that the earth’s going to fall into the sun—or wait a minute—it’s the opposite—the sun’s getting colder every year.” He paused for a minute, then continued, “Come outside,” he said, gesturing towards Jay. “I’d like you to have a look at this place.”

Nick and Jay followed him out to the veranda, and Jordan and I joined them. Jay pointed to his house. “I’m right across from you.”

“So you are,” he agreed.

We had luncheon in the dining room, curtains closed against the heat, though it only served to make the room hotter, I thought. The room was tense, and we drank and ate in nervous gaiety.

I had a horrid thought. “What’ll we do with ourselves this afternoon?” I cried, “and the day after that, and the next thirty years?”

“Don’t be morbid,” Jordan chastised me. “Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.”

“It’s so hot,” I groaned, close to crying, “and everything is getting confused. Let’s all go to town!” They didn’t pay attention then, Jay wrapped up in a conversation with Tom about his conversion of our garage into a horse stable.

“Who wants to go to town?” I asked. Jay’s eyes flicked towards me, and even in his perspired state, he looked like a cool breath of air. “You look so cool,” I spoke, meeting his eyes for a single second, the thought once more flashing through my brain.

Jay was going to ruin himself in pursuit of me, and I didn’t care. He had never been meant to be forever for me, even after Tom and I’s unhappy marriage.

“Alright,” Tom broke in. “We can go to town.” I could tell he had seen something in the flick of my eyes to Jay, but didn’t know what.

“Are we just going to go?” I asked. “Just like that? Aren’t we going to let anyone smoke a cigarette?”

“Everybody smoked all through lunch,” Tom objected.

“Oh, have it your own way,” I said. “Come on, Jordan,” I said, leading her upstairs.

“What’s going on, Daisy?” she asked.

“He’s ruining himself in pursuit of me, and I don’t even love him!” I cried. “He’ll break if I leave him, and yet it’s the only way to keep him alive.”

“Tom,” she said. One short syllable that expressed everything I had missed. “He saw that you appeared to love him. That’s why he gave in so quickly.”

“I have to give him up, Jordan. I’m ruining him, and he chose that. He doesn’t realize it, but he won’t be anything without me. He’s based his entire life around me—I’m what makes him Jay Gatsby. He built his personality around me.” If only she knew how true that statement was.

She turned away. “You’d better see if Tom wants to take something to drink,” not acknowledging anything I just said. I nod, promising myself I’ll think over it on the way to town.

Calling out the window, I shout, “Shall we take anything to drink?”

Tom’s mouth moves, and he heads inside, Nick and Jay standing close together. We head downstairs, following Tom out.

“Shall we all go in my car?” Jay suggested, feeling the seat. “I should have left the car in the shade.”

“Is it standard shift?” Tom demanded.

“Yes.”

“Well, you take my coupé and let me drive your car to town,” he said. Jay’s face flashed with distaste.

“I don’t think there’s much gas,” he said.

“Plenty of gas. And if it runs out, we can stop at a drug store. You can buy anything a drugstore nowadays,” he said, and my heart sank. He knew. Or well, he thought he knew. My revelation had hit me in the face, and the shock showed on my countenance.

“Come on, Daisy,” said Tom, pressing his hand into the small of my back, his hand presenting Jay’s car. “I’ll take you in the circus wagon.”

I moved from where his hand laid. “Take Nick and Jordan. We’ll follow you in the coupé,” I said. Tom growled but consented, and Nick and Jordan followed him into the yellow car.

We clambered into the blue coupé, the familiar car seeming almost foreign with Jay in the driver’s seat. I watched Tom, Nick, and Jordan do the same, and Tom sped off, testing out each gear, Jay muttering over the waste of gas.

“He’s going to buy gas for you, you know,” I said.

“I guess,” he said, leaning over and kissing me once on the lips. I forced myself not to recoil, thoughts of his ruin via his pursuit of me still playing in my mind.

“We should go,” I said, and he laughed as he turned the car on. The car rumbled quietly as oil began pumping through the engine, and then quieted again.

“I wait until the engine quiets down after I start it,” he said, “and that’s because it helps the car last longer, if you can get the car to lubricate itself instead just taking off dry.” His words had no meaning to me, but I nodded.

“I don’t think Tom knew that,” I said. He had never waited the thirty seconds after starting the car, he just threw the car into drive and went.

“That would explain why he wants to sell this car, it’s a pile of crap now. How long have you had it?” he asked, pressing his foot to the gas and throwing the car towards the city.

“I think it was a wedding present from Tom’s parents,” I said, and he squirmed uncomfortably in the driver’s seat.

“I wish—well, you know what I wish, Daisy. You’ll tell Tom you don’t love him soon, right?”

“I—I don’t know, Jay.” The I’m going to ruin your life if we continue this pressed at my lips, but I held it back. I expected him to protest, but he apparently realized it was the best he would get.

We rode in tense silence for a few minutes before entering the ash heaps, seeing Tom making harsh gestures at the small man, who I guessed was Wilson. It was, after all, Wilson’s Garage.

“What’s he all mad about?” Jay asked.

“I’ve no clue,” I said. ��Perhaps his mistress.”

His face hardened as we slowed to wait for them. “I don’t like how he treats you, Daisy. Like a play toy, abandoning you when he gets bored.”

As the coupé advanced towards Tom and the man I assumed to be Wilson, we heard the maybe-Wilson man say, “I need the money. We’re moving West soon. My wife has wanted to go west for 10 years, you know.”

“Mr. Buchanan!” Jay called.

“Gatsby,” he said. “Go on, you two. We’ll follow.”

We sped off to the highway, Jay testing each gear and the speed of the car. Tom soon followed, accelerating faster than Jay could go. Jay tried keeping up, but the engine started making angry noises, so he slowed down. Thankfully, by then Tom had glanced behind him, slowing. He glanced back every few seconds, as if afraid that he would lose me forever is he didn’t check where I was every few seconds.

When we arrived, Nick looked almost ready to fall asleep. The heat had tired us all, especially in the cars that were 20 degrees warmer than the actual temperature. I suggested we hire five bathrooms to take cold baths, but it was shot down in favor of ‘a place to have a mint julep.’ I almost felt bad for the clerk at the front desk with all of us talking over each other.

The room was stifling hot, and all five of us being there likely did not help. We opened the windows, which only blew slightly cooler air into the room. It was breathtakingly humid, and I went to fix my hair. Jordan whispered it was a swell suite, and we laughed.

“Open another window,” I said.

“There aren’t anymore,” Nick said.

“Well, we’d better telephone for an axe.”

“The thing to do is to forget about the heat,” Tom said, showing that he too was affected by the heat. “You make it ten times worse by crabbing about it.” He unrolled the bottle of whiskey and put it on the table.

“Let her alone, old sport,” Jay said. “You’re the one who wanted to come to town.” In a sentence, Jay had caused Nick to stutter, likely not wanting to point out that I had first suggested it. But in the end, no one mentioned it, because the telephone book slipped from its nail and crashed to the floor.

“I’ll pick it up,” Nick offered.

“I’ve got it,” Jay said, examining the string that held it to the nail. He tossed it on a chair. “String’s broken.”

“That’s a great expression of yours, isn’t it?” Tom remarked, and we all looked at him strangely.

“What is?” Jay asked.

“All this ‘old sport’ business. Where’d you pick that up?”

“Now see here, Tom,” I said, turning from the mirror. “If you’re going to make personal remarks I won’t stay here a minute. Call up and order some ice for the mint julep.”

As Tom picked up the receiver, we heard the first pompous chords of Mendelssohn’s Wedding March from the ballroom below us.

“Imagine marrying anyone in this heat!” Jordan cried.

“Still—I was married in the middle of June. Louisville, in June! Somebody fainted. Who was it who fainted, Tom?” I asked.

“Biloxi,” he answered.

“A man named Biloxi. ‘Blocks’ Biloxi, and he made boxes—that’s a fact—and he was from Biloxi, Tennessee,” I said.

“They carried him into my house,” added Jordan, “because we lived just two doors from the church. And he stayed three weeks, until Daddy told him he had to leave. The day after he left Daddy died.” She paused. “There wasn’t any connection.”

“I used to know a Bill Biloxi from Memphis,” Nick stated.

“That was his cousin. I knew his whole family history before he left. He gave me an aluminum putter I still use today.”

The march had ended, and cheers floated through the open window. The dancing began in a burst of jazz. “We’re getting old,” I said. “If we were young we’d rise and dance.”

“Remember Biloxi,” Jordan warned. “Where’d you know him, Tom?”

“Biloxi?” he asked, thinking. “I didn’t know him. He was a friend of Daisy’s.”

“He was not. I’d never seen him before. He came down in the private car, remember?”

“Well, he said he knew you. He said he was raised in Louisville. Asa Bird brought him around at the last minute and asked if we had room for him,” Jordan said, smiling. “He was probably bumming his way home. He told me he was president of your class at Yale.

Tom and Nick looked at each other. “Biloxi?” Nick asked.

“First place, we didn’t have any president—“ Tom said, eying Jay’s foot, which was tapping restlessly.

“By the way, Mr. Gatsby, I understand you’re an Oxford man.”

“Not exactly,” Jay replied.

“Oh, yes, I understand you went to Oxford.”

“Yes—I went there,” Jay paused. Jordan, Nick, and I start awkwardly, looking between the two men.

Tom spoke again, his voice disbelieving. “You must have gone there about the time Biloxi went to New Haven.”

A waiter knocked on the door, and we all jumped. “Come in!” I called. The waiter did so, leaving the block of ice and mint leaves on the table.

“Thank you,” the man muttered, closing the door.

“I told you I went there—to Oxford,” said Jay.

“I heard you, but I’d like to know when,” demanded Tom.

“It was in nineteen-nineteen. I only stayed five months. That’s why I can’t really call myself an Oxford man.” He paused, and Tom glanced at us to see if we mirrored his disbelief. We didn’t, and Jay continued, “It was an opportunity they gave some to some of the officers after the armistice. We could go to any of the universities in England or France.”

Nick’s hand jerked, as though he wanted to reassure Jay with a hand on his shoulder. Hoping to diffuse the tensions, I spoke, “Open the whiskey, Tom. I’ll make you a mint julep. Then you won’t seem so stupid to yourself… Look at the mint!”

“Wait a minute,” demanded Tom. “I want to ask Mr. Gatsby one more question.”

“Go ahead,” said Jay, smiling.

“What kind of a row are you trying to cause in my house anyhow?”

“He isn’t causing a row,” I interjected. “You’re causing a row, Tom, please have a little self-control.”

“Self-control!” Tom roared. “I suppose the latest thing is to sit back and let Mr. Nobody from Nowhere make love to your wife! Well, if that’s the idea you can count me out… Nowadays people begin by sneering at family life and family institutions, and next they’ll throw everything overboard and have intermarriage between black and white.”

“We’re all white here,” muttered Jordan, and I saw Jay’s cheeks flush.

“I know I’m not very popular,” Tom said. I don’t give give big parties. I suppose you’ve got to make your house into a pigsty in order to have any friends—in the modern world.”

Nick looked annoyed at Tom’s words, and I think everyone felt the same. It was too hot to not be annoyed.

“I’ve got something to tell you, old sport—“ Jay began. I guessed at his intentions, and raised my hand to silence him.

“Not now, Jay,” I said. “Let’s all go home anyways, it’s hotter than it was back home.”

“That’s a good idea,” Nick said. “Come on, Tom. Nobody wants a drink.”

“I want to know what Mr. Gatsby has to tell me,” Tom said, and my heart sank. I would have to tell Jay that I didn’t love him, that he would come to ruin if this continued, that his pursuit of me was stripping him of all it meant to be Jay Gatsby.

“Your wife doesn’t love you,” said Jay. “She’s never loved you. She loves me,” he said. I stood up, meaning to object to his claim, but Jay waved me back down.

“Listen to me, Jay!” I said, the exact same time that Tom said something.

“You must be crazy!” Tom cried.

Jay sprang to his feet then. “She never loved you, do you hear?” and well, that was true. I had married Tom out of obligation to my parents, not out of love.

Continuing, Jay said, “She only married you because I was poor and she was tired of waiting for me. It was a terrible mistake, but in her heart she never loved anyone except me!” His voice was desperate, waiting for me to confirm his words.

Nick and Jordan stood, pleading their excuses, but Tom and Jay both insisted they stay. The two of them wanted all of us to see who would win the fight over me.

At that point, I stood up. Tom blinked at me.

“Daisy, what are you doing?” Jay asked.

“Telling the truth of the matter, as I see it,” I said. They waited for me to go on.

I took a deep breath, suddenly nervous. Jordan and Nick watched me curiously. I addressed Tom first.

“Jay is right. Not about all of it, but parts of it. I don’t love you, but I don’t love him. I married you because my parents—because I felt I owed that much to my parents—they deserved to see me married. I’m sorry, Tom.” Jordan nodded at me. She had found me after I had gotten drunk the night before our wedding. I watched Tom’s face for a reaction. His face hardened, but he nodded stiffly.

“And Jay,” I said, pausing to keep my sobs in my throat. I didn’t want to break him, but he needed to hear this.

“Jay, if you keep pursuing me, you will ruin yourself. You’re already stripping yourself of everything that makes you Jay Gatsby.” Or James Gatz, I thought. “You are ruining yourself in pursuit of a woman who does not love you. I know this hurts you to hear, but I can’t let you choose to ruin yourself. Your whole personality is modeled after what you think I am. I’m not the same girl you knew in Louisville, Jay.” His head jerked up at his name, though his face was shiny with sweat and tears. He had curled into himself upon the couch.

“Daisy—“ he gasped out. I stood up.

“I’m leaving,” Tom said. “Daisy, Jordan, Nick?” he asked. Though his face was stricken, he was much more composed than Jay.

“I’m staying. Leave Gatsby’s car, please,” Nick said. “I’ll get him home.”

“Of course, Nick.”

“I’ll go home,” I said. “I really am sorry, Tom.”

“It’s alright, Daisy. We’ll talk when we’re back at home. Jordan?” he asked.

“I’ll come with you two,” she agreed.

“Goodbye,” Nick said politely, though his voice was cold in a strong contrast to the heat.

The three of us walked from the room, watching Nick slowly approach Jay.

[dreamseksuel]

We don't appreciate people who take time out of their day to make gifs of gay porn... If you see this I love you and you're the backbone of our society

[longing-for-rain]

You’re also completely missing the point.

You firstly ignored the fact that real people can experience harm as a result of fictional narratives (e.g. the way certain characters are portrayed in media), and secondly jumped straight into accusing me of censorship when I never said that. Being critical of media doesn’t mean I’m arguing that media should be forcibly suppressed.

It’s overly simplistic to act like all instances of racial slurs, for instance, in a story are the same. For example, a book like Huck Finn taking place in a racist environment inherently includes that kind of language to paint a realistic picture of the time period and ultimately serves to promote an anti racist message. But as a counter example, let’s say we have a white supremacist author who writes black characters as caricatures in his story and refers to them using slurs, because in his mind this is funny. Clearly, these aren’t the same, and most audiences would recognize that the second author’s attitude towards his characters is reflective of his bigotry. I know media literacy is dead, but the difference isn’t really that difficult to see if you look at any form of context.

It’s also important to note that stories don’t exist in isolation; stories follow general trends across society. As a gay person, one trope I’m particularly aware of is the “bury your gays” trope as I’m sure you’re also aware. I remember a time watching media, when if I was lucky enough to see a hint of a gay character at all, they were almost always killed off. Don’t you agree, that can be damaging to a person? Yes, those characters were all fictional people. None of them were really harmed. But the way their respective authors and showrunners treated them sends a message: that nobody wants people like me to be around. We are meant to appear briefly for shock value and then die.

I feel similarly watching media as a woman; the frequent use of misogynistic tropes and constant eroticization of female pain is dehumanizing, because it speaks to the amount of people who hold those beliefs about people like me. I have every right to be critical of that, and I’m never going to buy the fact that a male writer putting graphic rape scenes of little girls in his novels is some progressive icon exploring complex issues.

Your point about kink is also very interesting. You seem to be approaching it from the angle that only gay people would eroticize homophobia, etc. when in reality that isn’t the case. Would you feel the same if a white person became aroused by seeing a black person being assaulted and called slurs? Your answer implies you wouldn’t be comfortable and good, at least you have some moral backbone. I simply apply that further to straight people who enjoy “dykebreaking” etc. and men who enjoy the idea of physically and sexually abusing women. Those people are sick in the head and clearly hold deeply misogynistic and lesbophobic views. Again, these things don’t exist in a vacuum. There is a reason they see people like me and view us as things to be abused and degraded. Those people are acting out their hatred and biases and we have every right to be critical of it. We also have every right to be critical of narratives—even fictional narratives—that promote the use of our lived pain and experiences for the enjoyment of people who will never be in a position to understand the consequences of those experiences.

I really think everyone needs to truly internalize this:

Fictional characters are objects.

They are not people. You cannot "objectify" them, because they have no personhood to be deprived of. They have no humanity to be erased. You cannot "disrespect" them, because they are not real.

[penpen363]

I have so many WIPs it’s not even funny someone give me motivation

[winderlylandchime]

Oh shit, I just realized that the message i just sent was for 2x07 and not 2x08. Can you tell my brain is one giant mess? My apologies. This is 2x08!! well 1/2 of it, once again my bad :/

The man was feeling good enough for one more ep. His preparations for starting to watch it are my favorite thing in the world. This one started with him clapping his hands and going ‘i can do this! The last one was upsetting but also a bit boring since it was about Michael’ clearly he has favorites: ‘oh so NOW debbie is happy again? Man, fuck her. (That part about the next person that walks through the door comes up) *my brother crosses his fingers and starts rocking back and forth* please dont be brian, please dont be brian, please THANK FUCK ITS EMMETT!’ ‘Oh damn, brian…see! Denim on denim! What did i say? Gay! OH HE REMEMBERS THE RULES! HE RESPECTS THE RULES! OH NO SNARK AT THE WORD BOYFRIEND? We are evolving! We are growing! Maturing even! That guy looks kinda like a knock off version of a young keanu reeves…did Brian fuck Keanu Reeves? Respect *fist bumps his chest* OH MY GOD BRIAN JEN AND JUSTIN! LOOK AT THAT KISS! That was cute. I would like Jen and Bri to have a friendship! Need them to work together and be cool together…Does Justin have some voyeur kink..dude..what are you doing? DID HE LICK THE TOWEL?! PLEASE TELL ME HE DID NOT LICK THAT CUM TOWEL? I JUST CLICKED PLAY I CANNOT TAKE A SMOKE BREAK ALREADY! okay jen and brian having a wild night would be fun..i forgot he has a sister..yup, he definitely has a voyeur kink..’ if anybody wondered he is hoping this pornstar thing ends soon because he believes Emmett deserves a better job but in his words ‘not that being a porn star isn’t a good job! They are the backbone of our society! But my boy Em could thrive in something better’…’look at emmett have his audrey hepburn moment! Who do you think his secret admirer is? Probably some hot rich dude’ ‘WHY DONT THEY HANG OUT AT BRIANS MORE OFTEN? Even mel is there! This is fun! Look at Brian working that camera! They should hang out at Brians more often! Add Justin and Em to the mix!…okay that writers complaining comment feels personal. Who pissed off a writer? Wait they’re on that strike right now, forget i said anything’ ‘oh! Emmetts man is RICH RICH! Okay show us the hottie with the body! Oh…okay not what I expected….I’m sure he has a lovely personality.’ *pauses the episode* ‘do you think when they did shower scenes and they fucked up that they had to dry their hair and re-do? Like how many takes do you think they did..*starts episode as if he didnt just make me question every shower scene*…okay Justin, don’t take this personal but from what I’ve seen, i think you have better luck fucking me than Brian. YOU CAN ALWAYS BE WITH ME! HE JUST SAYS SHIT LIKE THIS AND EXPECTS ME TO BE OKAY?! How does one even fuck someone FOR someone else? That tiny kiss was adorable. Brian is cute’ *the party scene comes on tv* ‘ohhh that’s how you fuck someone else FOR someone else. That was Brian through and through’ *he paused the tv looked at the ceiling and just groaned and then pressed play* ‘OH THATS THE OLD GUY! I was right! He does have a nice personality, I like him…i think i do…’ *we are now back at the party* ‘…baby, i hate to be the bearer of bad news but i have better luck curing cancer than you meeting The One in college. THATS RIGHT! WE DO NOT KISS! WE FUCK BUT WE DO NOT KISS! We have morals in this house!…or apparently we don’t, WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK JUSTIN?! YOU made the rules! YOU! i am so mad aright now! Literally just earlier Brian respected your rules but YOU mr. ‘and one more thing’ BREAK THEM?!! Un-be lievabe!’ ‘Oh i like the old guy! He made pickles! I love pickles!(the man was allergic to pickles as a child and hasn’t had them since they figured that out when he was 5, when confronted with this fact he scoffed at me and went ‘you don’t know my life’)

No worries about getting the episodes mixed up. I’m the worst at knowing which one is which.

That scene with Jen and Justin and Brian is so cute and yes Justin is a bit of a voyeur - he would have to be with Brian as his partner.

I love that your brother supports sex workers and the writer’s strike (he knows the writers from QAF weren’t striking at the time of its making… right?)

Huh. I am now wondering the same thing about the shower scenes. Like did they rehearse a ton without water and hope to get it in one take?

“we do not meet The One in college” - oh boy this man is going to be messed up by what’s coming. I mean about Ethan and Justin. Justin obviously met the one in HS.

Welcome to the fandom anger at Justin never fucking keeping the rules. We hate it here.

“You don’t know my life” Now I have no siblings so I’m no expert, but I think the very point is that they do know your life. Pickle allergy and all (is he allergic to cucumbers?) What a bad allergy to have. I love pickles.

[prismatoxic]

mainline metal gear solid opinions from a guy who watched someone else play the games

mgs: extremely good. the hetero romance is heavy-handed but knowing it crashes and burns between 1 and 2 helps. otacon is at his most loser stage and i respect him for it. naomi is a bitch and i love that for her, she is important to the plot in a way that makes me love to hate her. inclusion of the totally unnecessary otacon ending is just *chef kiss*

mgs2: really solid except whenever rose and raiden are in a call together. jesus christ. shut the fuck up. i wish you could play snake in the main campaign but having him and otacon be super gay just off screen is good. the ending sequence with the AI corruption is so fucking awesome. i stan pliskin

mgs3: i did not think i would care about a game without solid snake and otacon in it. i care SO MUCH. very goofy and also very heart-wrenching. ocelot is a fucking joy to behold. eva is annoyingly sexual but when you find out why it really ties a ribbon on the ending. the sorrow's "fight" is genuinely so cool, what the hell. this one made me cringe away from the screen more than the others but that's bc i'm squeamish

mgs4: suspended my disbelief so hard i felt like i was seconds from losing it entirely, but actually a really good send-off to the story of solid snake. i fucking hate naomi in this one, and not in the fun way. why did she get to solve everything. i am sad about snake's fate but it's ok, i'm writing fix-it fic. this is salvageable. i cannot stand drebin's monkey

mgs5: i'm gonna be real with you the fandom makes this one for me. i haven't seen all of it yet but oh my god it isn't doing it for me. kaz/venom shippers are the backbone of our society (also there's a dog, i love the dog). the chicken hat is fucking evil and i resent konami for it. just program an easy mode you pretentious assholes