#they don't do that in france !! so. not exactly sure what to give out

[outlying-hyppocrate]

Trick or treaaat!!! Happy Halloween!!!!!!!!!!!!

happy halloween !! here you go (:

[disasterbuck]

Oohhh for the prompts I'd love to see Buddie with the sidewalk rule 👀🥰

I'm so glad you chose the sidewalk rule because I had an idea for that one right after I reblogged the prompt post 😂

I hope you like it!! 💕

the sidewalk rule

established Buddie | 645 words

Buck was chatting away, his hands waving this way and that, and Eddie had a smile on his face as he walked beside him. They'd decided to walk down to the coffee shop on the corner of Buck's street together, to treat themselves after their long shift before Eddie had to leave to pick Chris up from school.

As he talked, Buck walked backwards in front of Eddie for a few steps before ending up on his other side.

"—and then it was introduced to England in like, the late 1700s," Buck was saying. How he'd gotten started on the history of dominoes, Eddie didn't know, but he definitely wasn't complaining. He could happily listen to Buck talk for hours about anything. "And it was all over the world by 1889! And although it originated in China, it's now way more popular in France and Belgium."

"And the Buckley-Diaz household," Eddie chimed in with a wink, referring to the set of dominoes Buck and Chris had been playing with for the past three weeks and making Buck blush.

While he was briefly distracted, Eddie gently took hold of Buck's wrist and guided him to the other side so that he was back on Eddie's left and Eddie was walking beside the road.

Buck frowned, then just continued talking about dominoes. But a few steps later, he cut across Eddie's path with a little spin so that he was back on Eddie's right.

With a scowl, Eddie stepped behind him and to the side, forcing Buck left. A giggle left Buck's lips and he ducked in to kiss Eddie quickly, distracting him, before taking the spot on the right again.

"Would you stop?" Eddie exclaimed, coming to a halt.

"Stop what?" Buck asked innocently, a bright grin on his face.

"You know what," Eddie said with a sigh. "Stop swapping sides!"

"Why?" Buck asked, a cheeky twinkle in his eyes.

"Because…" Eddie trailed off, feeling his face grow warm with embarrassment. A particularly fast car sped past and he automatically reached out to grab Buck's arm, pulling him further away from the road.

"I didn't know you knew the sidewalk rule," Buck teased.

"The what?" Eddie asked, baffled.

"The sidewalk rule," Buck repeated, as if saying it again would bring any further insight. Thankfully, seeing Eddie's face, he went on – "It's the idea that your boyfriend should walk on the side closest to the road to keep you safe from any hazards."

"I have never heard of that in my life," Eddie said, mouth twisting slightly in disgust. "It sounds misogynistic. And besides, we're both the boyfriend in this relationship."

"Sure," Buck said easily, giving a one-shoulder shrug. "But then, why exactly don't you want me walking on this side?"

Eddie slid his hand down to Buck's, twisting their fingers together. He didn't want to tell Buck the truth; he didn't want Buck's bright and happy mood to be brought down. But…

"Because of Shannon," he said softly. "Because she… I know it doesn't make sense. We're in way more dangerous situations every day. And she wasn't on a sidewalk but on a crossing, so it was different—"

"Hey." Buck stepped right up into his space, cupping his face with his hands. "It's okay. It makes sense to me. If you want me to walk on the other side, I will."

"I do," Eddie admitted.

"Then I will," Buck said. Closing the distance between them, Buck kissed him softly and earnestly.

When they parted, Eddie was surprised to find that Buck had somehow turned them during the kiss without him noticing. He was once again standing between Buck and the road.

"Come on," Buck said, taking Eddie's hand in his and pulling him along the path.

Content, Eddie gently squeezed Buck's hand and listened as he went back to discussing the history of dominoes.

Tags:

@dluoser @taketheplanspinitsideways @loudenthusiastic @wallywise @mxrcjqckspnchqsc

@i-am-married-to-my-fandom @therosesaredying @stillfuckingtired @classtrialguru @speggle

@awesome-igi @natnuszsstuff @olliesrants @crazyfangirlallert @delirium1995

@brah3280 @meanceclosetohell @anythingeverythingallofthetime @izzysbeans @jesuiscenseedormir

@darkrose6578 @veronae-buddie @steadfastsaturnsrings @loveyouanyway @inell

@spicyrottingbrains @gnoeltop @idealuk @donationwayne @lemotmo

Let me know if you'd like to be added or removed 💕

[muxshwriting]

swimming

Regulus Black x reader

summary: living two lives as you try to navigate through a war. you and regulus have to try not to get caught while breaking down the barriers of both sides || warnings: mentions of pregnancy, mentions of death, there's a war going on || word count: 1114 || masterlist

"Are we sure this will work?"

Regulus holds your hands within his. "Absolutely not. But we have to try."

"Okay."

Regulus reached a hand and knocked on the door of Remus and Sirius’ house, where the Order was currently meeting. A quiet shuffling could be heard inside and footsteps approached the door. It swung open and the person behind took one look at Regulus before thrusting their wand in his face.

"Good to see you too Sirius."

Regulus raised his hands, leaving his wand tucked in his waistband. But he also took a small step sideways, trying to cover you from immediate view.

"You here to kill us Reggie?" Sirius’ tone was sour and cutthroat.

"We’re not here to kill you, any of you. Can we talk?"

Sirius narrowed his eyes, glancing back at you. "Who the hell is she?"

"She’s my- Y/N is-" He stuttered a response, trying to find the best way to word it. "She’s here to help, please?"

"Give me your wands."

Regulus slowly handed his over and you hesitantly did the same. It wasn’t a nice feeling, giving someone else your wand. It was so personal to you, it chose you. You felt defenceless as you entered the house, weaving your way through until you were standing in front of the group.

"What are they doing here?" Someone asked.

"We're trying to get out." Regulus answered for both of you.

Moody scoffed. "There is no out."

"Exactly." Regulus stated. "We're doing what we can and then we're going to die."

"And when we're 'dead' we'll be free. We could go to France, Northern Italy maybe. Anywhere but here." You spoke up for the first time and Sirius’ eyes seemed to soften as you did but his expression remained serious.

You remembered him from school, a year older than you but infamous throughout Hogwarts. No matter how estranged him and Regulus had become, he always cared, deep down.

Remus asked the question everyone was wondering. "Why now? We're years into this war and now you chose to help us, why?"

Regulus glanced at you, squeezing your hand in reassurance. "We've got a future to think about. If we don't get out now, we never will."

Sirius' expression grew darker, if possible. "Are you serious? You're having in a kid in the middle of a war?"

"We weren't trying to."

He scoffed. "Clearly."

The anger bubbled inside you, threatening to boil over but you held it down. He didn't truly understand your situation, he didn't understand. You had to focus on the forward motion, keeping your head above water. The current would carry you where you needed to go but you had to guide yourself around the rocks and over the falls safely.

"We have a lot of information that will be useful for you all." You finally say, changing the subject. "Just hear us out."

"What kind of information?"

Regulus stepped up. "I can give you a list of Ministry officials that the Dark Lord has in his pocket, some under Imperius curse and some not. There's going to be an assault on one of muggleborn safe havens later this week, targeting those who protect others."

"It's the safe haven in Norfolk, attacking on Friday evening." You supply the specific details to the group who seem to pale further each second. “Six death eaters, they expect it to fall easily.”

"There are death eater recruitment programs wired into the fabric of Hogwarts education, specifically in Slytherin. People may not truly believe in the cause but they don't resist it enough to fully fight against it. For lots of purebloods, it's unthinkable to do what Sirius did, fight against his whole family and do the opposite to what they were raised to do." Regulus explained. "But there are plenty of weaker members who would abandon ship at the slightest notion of it beginning to sink. If you can get those people to leave, the dark forces have much less power than you realise."

"What are going to do now?" Moddy asked, his voice growling and deep.

"No one knows we came here. We'll return home, wait for the call and continue our lives as normal. No one can suspect anything."

"You-Know-Who is a skilled legilimens." He counters.

"Me and Reggie have been perfecting occlumency for many years in preparation for this. No one will know." You reassure them. "Even if they did find out, they'll kill us in an instant. You won't feel any repurcussions from it."

"This can only backfire on us."

When you and Reg get home, the air is palpable. There’s a nervousness between the two of you that you’d never felt before and it only increases the weight on your chest. It feels like a riptide pulling you out to sea. You can fight against it but it will only tire you out and drag you out either way.

"Reggie?"

He hums in response, asking without words.

"Do you think we did the right thing?"

"Yeah." He sighs. "Yeah, I think we did. But we’re not doing it for us, we’re doing it for them." He loops his arms around your waist and holds you close.

"For them." You agree. "I noticed you didn’t mention the horcruxes."

He tenses beside you and you regret bringing up the subject.

"Sorry-"

"Don’t. Don’t apologise." He says. "I don’t know if I should ever tell them."

"Reggie!"

"Would they even believe me?"

"Of course they would." You try and tell him. "We would make them, make them listen, make them believe. It’s the only way we can kill Him for good. Please Reg, we have to tell them at some point."

He nods silently, pressing a kiss into your forehead before pulling away. "Okay. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Regulus didn’t sleep that night, he hardly ever did. The ceiling of your bedroom had become a familiar sight, illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the crack in the curtain. His mind ran at a million miles per minute, scheming for the future but telling no one of his plans.

He would hunt His horcuxes by himself, he didn’t want to involve you. When you were close enough to the Order, he would write a letter to Sirius and abandon you in the middle of the night. He didn’t want to leave you, but the war would give him no choice. Regulus would go to the cave with Kreacher, he’d probably die but there would be a fraction of evil destroyed.

You would hate him forever, never forgive him for leaving you but it was worth to change the tide of the war. Regulus would make it worth it. There was no other choice.

[futurewdclandonorris]

Paris | Pierre Gasly¹⁰

Pairings: Pierre Gasly x fem!actress!reader

Summary: Pierre comes to visit you in your hotel room, and you know what always happens when you two get together...

Warnings: smut, explicit, descriptive, fwb situation, drastic change of pace, degradation, praise, edging, delayed orgasm, dom!Pierre, orgasm denial, basically everything you can think of this story probably has it

Word count: 5058

A/N: this is several moths old and filthy! Like it's the filthiest thing I ever wrote. For the sake of the story, let's pretend Pierre's family home is in Paris, thanks. Pierre's nickname for the reader is princess so there's a lot of that.

You were in your hotel room in Paris in the middle of unpacking when you heard a knock on your door. You'd be here for several days in France to film on location and wanted to make sure your clothes didn't get wrinkled, so you hastily set down the shirt you were holding before going to answer the door, already knowing who it was.

"Hey you," you said and prompted yourself on your toes to place a kiss on his cheek and give him a hug; he awkwardly hugged you back. "Come on in." you moved aside to let him through and closed the door behind him.

He immediately grabbed your head and put his lips on yours.

"Don't give me that crap ever again, I've waited weeks to see you." he said. "Kissing my cheek and bullshit."

You let out a laugh. "Sorry, we were in the middle of the hallway, someone could see. We're both famous, you know."

"No one even knows you're here." he looked around. "Why are you even staying in a hotel anyway? I told you, you can stay at my parents' house."

"And I told you, I don't want to inconvenient them. Besides, your mom doesn't like me." you continued to unpack, busying yourself by folding shirts and putting them away.

"What?! She likes you, she just..."

"Pierre," you rolled your eyes. "You talk about me all the time, no wonder the woman hates me."

"Did she ever tell you or did something to make you think that way?" he furrowed his brows.

You abruptly stopped in your tracks upon thinking of Pascale's stern advice to not toy with Pierre's affections. That had been an awkward conversation, since you weren't exactly certain what she knew about the two of you; Pierre who always ran his mouth and risked making it seem like you were a couple. But mothers often possess insight beyond what any mortal can explain - and somehow she already knew.

"Nope." you shook your head and folded your pants. "Besides, where would I sleep? In your childhood bedroom?"

"Mm, I would very much like to see you in my childhood bedroom." he hugged you from behind. "And maybe even see you wearing one of my old jerseys in it. Just the jersey." he moved the hair on your shoulder and placed a kiss on your neck.

You lifted your shoulder up, squirming, and removed his hands from around you.

"Don't do that." your folded pants gave you a reasonable excuse to walk away from him and put them away in the closet.

"Do what?"

You turned around to face him. "That..." you gestured with your hands. "Boyfriend girlfriend stuff. We're not that."

"I missed you."

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair. He walked closer to you.

"Haven't you missed me?" he placed his hands on both sides of your neck, his thumbs running across your jaw. "Huh, princess?"

"I have." you tiptoed to close the gap between you.

His lips captured yours in an instant. His hands moved to cup your face and bring you even closer. The warmth of his mouth reminded you just how much you craved him. Your hands reached for the collar of his shirt and knotted into fists there. He kissed you slowly and gently, your tongues tangled together, but it was not gentleness you wanted. Not from him, never from him. You opened your mouth to deepen the kiss, but he only groaned softly into it, slowing you down.

"Slowly, princess." he whispered over your lips. "I want you to tell me just how much you missed me. To show me just how much..." his lips brushed all over your face. "To tell me, where you missed me the most." he rested his forehead on yours, his thumbs caressing your cheeks.

You sucked in your lips and let out a shaky breath. "My..." you swallowed. "My neck..."

You didn't have to tell him twice to move his head to the side and place a light kiss there. You closed your eyes, shivering at the touch.

"Like this?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, exactly like that..." you moved your head, allowing him more space and giving in to the sensation.

Your hands sought out his locks and intertwined with them. He kissed your neck, eliciting soft sighs from you, then lavished attention to the spot behind your ear that made you quiver. His teeth lightly grazed on your sensitive skin, leaving a subtle imprint.

"Where else, princess?" he lightly scratched you with his stubble.

Instead of verbally answering him, you pushed his head down to your cleavage. You heard him chuckle, burying his head between your boobs. He kissed and sucked on the exposed skin of your chest, making his way up to your collar bone, biting and marking it.

Placing your hands on his shoulders, you pushed him down to his knees. He looked up at you and smiled, naughty gleam in his eyes. You took his hands and dug them under your shirt. Your breath hitched when his fingers curled around the bare skin of your waist. His palms started traveling upwards, lifting your shirt with them. The whole time he was staring up at you with those piercing blue eyes, your knees wanted to give out.

He leaned forward; you felt his breath on your stomach and then the brush of his lips. Prompting himself up a bit to be in the level, he slowly began placing kisses all over your stomach area. You gripped his hair, letting him know he was on the right path to drive you insane.

"Pierre, undo my pants..." you said; he seemed to be taken by surprise, but obediently did so and waited for further instructions, looking up at you. He knew you wanted him to pull them down, he just wanted you to say it. "And take them off."

His fingers dug into the waistband and rolled them down. While doing so, he placed a kiss to your hip bone. He gently removed your jeans and tossed them to the side, his eyes back on you again. He took a sharp breath in when he saw you wearing baby blue underwear, but quickly got a hold of himself. He gripped your waist and kissed the other hip bone, sucking on the skin and making a light purple bruise.

"What's next, princess?" he asked.

Oh god, this was torture.

"Caress my legs," you gulped. "With your hands."

He smirked then placed the tips of his fingers on your ankles. He dragged them up over your calves to your knees then dived with his palms into your thighs. Your muscles tensed and you shivered. A faint smile on his lips gave away that he liked it.

"Touch me, with your lips."

He placed a kiss to your left knee and made his way upwards, slightly parting your legs. You breathed through your hung open mouth with your eyes closed. He stopped when he reached your groin and you felt just his hot breath on you. You glanced down at him to find him already looking up at you, smiling. You ran your fingers through his hair.

"Keep going." you whispered.

He buried his face into your other thigh, making you gasp. He could probably see how wet your panties have gotten, but you could now feel them. He didn't even properly touch you and you were already soaking through, it was embarrassing.

"Pierre," you called and made him look at you. "Touch me."

Of course, Pierre wouldn't be Pierre without a little tease. He first ran his fingers around the area where you wanted him to touch you.

"Pierre, please... I need you."

"How bad, princess?"

"So bad... Pierre, please—" you were getting all whiny from the anticipation.

"Shh, calm down, princess, there we go..." he pressed his digits over your clothed pussy and you could finally breathe again.

"Oh, my god, yes... Thank you." you whined.

He chuckled. "You're my good girl, you know that?" he asked, drawing slow circles over your clit.

"Y-yes..."

"My needy good girl." he moved your panties to the side.

Finally, a naked touch. You parted your legs a bit more, spreading them wide to give him better access. His arms pressed against the inside of your thighs as he maneuvered his body for closer contact. A warm breeze cooled your moist skin and brought a red flush to your cheeks. You threw back your head in ecstasy as his rhythmic movement stirred you inside and out.

"Do you want my finger, baby?"

"I want two." you bit your lip to stop from smiling.

"Eager." he smirked, positioning two fingers at your entrance. "Ready?" you nodded your head and he slipped them inside.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips as he began to move his fingers inside you. His movements were initially gentle and slow, but when you grinded your body against him, the speed increased. You match him thrust for thrust, swaying in synchrony.

"Pierre... I want to feel you... your mouth..." you panted.

He stopped his fingers, curled them deep inside of you and then pulled out. He took off your panties next and discarded them aside. Separating your legs, he kissed around before giving your pussy a kiss, making you shudder. Starting with kitten licks, he teased you before fully running his tongue over you, but slowly, very slowly. Your breath caught up in your throat from the feeling. He rolled his tongue between your folds with such pace that was driving you nuts.

You buried your hands deep into his hair, moaning his name. He then decided it was time to bring fingers into play again. He was rhythmically fucking you with his fingers while sucking on your clit at the same time. He drove you to the point of screaming, your knees giving out and only holding onto his shoulders for support prevented you from doubling over.

"Get on the bed, love." he led you to the bed backwards and laid you down.

He kissed a trail up your body, taking off your shirt and moving on to exploring your chest. He wrapped his arms around you, undoneing the clasp of your bra before throwing it aside. His mouth then focused completely on your breasts, sucking and nibbling on your nipples while his hands squeezing them in pleasure. Your hands pushed down on his shoulders, guiding him where you wanted to be touched as he moved lower with his lips and tongue.

He positioned himself between your legs, his head right above your pussy. You prompted your hips up only for him to push them down. He lowered his head, his lips brushing your clit and hot breath making you whine. Opening his mouth, he slowly licked you up once again. His tongue circled all around you, making soft moans escape your lips. This time there was no fingerplay involved, just him sucking on you.

"Give me your hands." he murmured, not separating from your core.

"Why?"

He got a hold of them before you even got to process what was happening. When he reached to interlock your fingers that's when you quickly pulled away.

"No, sorry, I don't do that..." it was too intimate for you. The feelings you held for Pierre couldn't be returned in kind. You wanted to save hand-holding during these moments for when you were completely sure of your emotions, even if it wasn't him.

You noticed his jaw clench and eyes change to a darker shade of blue, but he said nothing. Instead, he pushed your legs back and started devouring you like crazy. You yelped in surprise and yelled his name. That was his trigger, you triggered him. Slow and gentle Pierre was gone.

His tongue lapped around much more rapidly, he sucked harder and even used his teeth to graze you. He was mercilessly eating you out. You couldn't control your moans nor your breathing. He held you in a position you could barely move. The only thing you could do was scream out and squeeze your own tits for some kind of relief.

Soon, your legs started to shake, a pit forming in your stomach and he knew you were closer for you were calling his name repeatedly while begging. But he only sucked on you one last time and pulled away.

"Oh, why, Pierre, I was so close..." you whined and squirmed on the bed.

"I know," he said. "Good girls get to cum. You're not one of them."

"Fuck you." you spat. "I can just make myself cum." you sat upright.

"Great! Do it then." he replied, walking away and taking his shirt off. You frowned and looked after him. He turned around. "Well, what are you waiting for? I don't have all day." he said, undoing his pants and taking them off.

He leaned on the dresser just in his boxers, watching you. You positioned yourself so you were on full display for him. Not breaking the eye contact, you licked four of your fingers, making them nice and wet for your cunt. You played with your pussy, running your fingers up and down your folds, stretching you out and exploring yourself before you started rubbing on your clit. You exaggerated your moans, grabbing your boob and squeezing it in pleasure.

You saw him grip the edge of the dresser, but still he did nothing. The bulge in his boxers was pretty evident even though he tried to hide it. You decided it was time to add some more fingers to the play. Since he wanted to watch, you'll put on a show. You slid two of your fingers into you and sucked on the other two to moisten them for your clit.

His jaw tightened when you started playing with your clit again while also fingerfucking yourself. You let out a very loud moan, almost pornographic. Man, you were really good at this when you had an audience. He put his hand over the bulge, trying to keep it under control, but he was probably just palming himself over the fabric.

Soon, that pit in your stomach started forming again and he knew by your behavior that you weren't faking it. You threw your head back, your legs shaking and moans uncontrollably leaving your mouth.

"That's enough." he hissed, but you didn't listen. You kept going, you were just on the edge. "I said, that's enough." in just two steps he was by the bed, taking your wrists and stopping you.

"What the hell?!" you yelled. "You said—"

"You don't get to cum. Not until I say so. Now get down on your knees, you dirty little slut." he practically pulled you down to the floor by the hair.

You sat back on your knees before him, looking up and waiting. He rubbed himself over his clothed dick a few more times before stripping down. His cock sprung out, almost hitting you in the face. Your mouth started salivating at the sight. You shifted on your knees just wanting to grab and suck it.

“Open your mouth for me—no, no, you don’t get to take it. Only good girls get to take my cock, but you decided to be a disobedient little slut today. No, not even sticking out your tongue will help your case. Now you’re going to get a taste of your own medicine and watch me play with it.” his hand stroked down his length as he moaned.

"Oh, Pierre, please..." you begged and whimpered; your hands itched to touch him.

“Oh, you can beg all you want, it’s only going to make me stroke it faster. But watching you play with yourself made me throb in the places I didn’t even know is possible, I’ll give you that. I’ll have that image in my head for days—oh, fuck…” he let out a long groan. “Oh, this feels so good, princess. My hand, wrapped around my dick… Do you think you could do a better job, huh?”

"Yes, Pi, please, let me just have a taste..." you pleaded.

“Oh, you just want a taste?” he chuckled. “But no, princess, no.” his hand moved faster, making him moan louder. “Well, maybe if you beg and plead hard enough.”

"Oh, Pierre, please, please, please..." you gave him your best doe eyes.

"Okay, princess, you're not even trying right now. I know you can beg better than that."

"Please, let me suck your dick, please. I'll take it like a good girl and never ever disobey you again. I am your fuck toy to be used as you please. I will make you feel so good. Please, daddy, let me have your dick." you didn't mean to call him daddy, but you got so into your speech that it slipped your tongue.

"Mon dieu, the sounds of you begging really turns me on. You know just how to get what you want, don't you? That's what you did to get us here, didn't you, princess?" he talked in between moans. "Fine, you can have a lick. But just a lick," he warned. "Stick your tongue out more."

You prompted up like a child that just got a Christmas present. You licked his head and all the way down his shaft, tracing the veins that popped up, never breaking the eye contact. The gold cross necklace rose with his chest as he breathed.

"Fuck, princess, suck it. Suck the tip. Just the tip." he panted.

You wrapped your lips around his pink head, sucking like you wanted to take his soul. His hands were in your hair, pulling on your roots. You never heard him moan like this, his face twisted in pleasure. You circled your tongue around him to stop yourself from smiling.

"Mon dieu, princess, just take. Take it whole. I need my cock in that pretty little throat of yours." he himself pushed your head down his length, groaning. "Open wider." another groan. "Oh, suck it, princess. Keep sucking, show me that you've learned your lesson."

You took as much as you could of him in your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, warming up your throat for a deep dive. His fingers curled into your hair every time the tip hit the back of your mouth. He whined and whimpered with his head thrown back.

"Now, princess," he said breathily. "Princess, look at me. I'm going to fuck your mouth, alright?" his hands already positioned themselves to lock your head in place. You could only nod your head, looking up at him, your eyes pleading with him to do so.

He started thrusting himself into your mouth, hitting the back of it repeatedly. You gagged and choked on his dick, your mouth overflowing with saliva that ran down onto your chin. Your eyes stung with tears and and you felt like you couldn’t take a proper breath. He would pull out and instruct to spit on his dick upon noticing your struggles.

"Look at me while I fuck your mouth. Aw, look at you, can't even fit it whole. Is it too big for you, princess?" tears rolled down your cheeks when he forced himself on you. "Don't cry, my princess, you know I would never give you what I know you can't take. God, your throat feels heavenly. Fuck, I'm going to cum." he groaned.

"Yes, daddy, come down my throat..."

"Wouldn't you like that?" he chuckled as his movements slowed down. "I don't know if I want your mouth to make me cum or your pussy."

You begged him, begged him with your eyes to give you a taste of his cum.

"Oh, you want it so much, don't you? Oh, yeah, you fucking do. I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum down your fucking throat and fuck you for way longer after, ugh." he trusted in you in between every word.

As he groaned loudly, his shaft soon disappeared inside of you and you relished in the warmth that surrounded you. You eagerly swallowed every drop and even begged for more. You lapped up every last bit of him from his tip, leaving it spotless.

"Good girl." he praised, running his fingers through your hair.

Moment of break was over. He picked you up and threw you onto the bed on your stomach.

"Ass up for me."

You complied without having him to repeat himself. Rewarding you with a nice slap, he teasingly slid his cock between your folds. His tip rubbed against your clit, tempting you to orgasm right then and there.

"Pierre, please..." you whined.

"Please what?" he said, sliding down.

"Put it in, fuck me." you cried out.

He didn't do it right away, but eventually he gripped your hips and pushed himself into you. Without letting you adjust, he started ramming into you. And why would he? You were already way too familiar with every inch of his body.

"Is this what you wanted all along, you dirty little slut? This dick inside of you? Finally getting it, huh?" you could only moan in response. "God, you're pathetic. The way you begged for it, like you've never had dick in your life. You love it don't you? You love my dick. You love me fucking you. No one has ever fucked you this good, isn't that right, princess?" you shook your head. "God, you can't even form words, that's how good I make you feel. Only me."

Still, you wanted more. You needed more. You took your hand and pressed it against your clit, rubbing fast.

"Move that fucking hand away." he slapped it off, then grabbed both of your wrists and locked them behind your back. "Good girls get to help themselves, but you don't. You think just because you sucked my dick so good you're in my good graces again? No, princess, you're still a long way to go."

You moaned in (dis)pleasure. You let him take control. God, you just hoped the rooms around were empty cause you both have been screaming all afternoon.

"But princess, I'll be so kind and tell you in advance," he grabbed a fistful of your hair and yanked it backwards, leaning into your ear. "I'm going to fuck you on every single piece of furniture you see in this room."

Oh god, just that sentence alone could send you over the edge. Your eyes rolled backwards and you just let go, whimpering and whining. After a while, your body started going limp under him, the gap between your thighs wanted to close and walls tightened around him.

"Oh, you're so close already?" he mocked. "And you want to come?"

"Yes, please..."

He only laughed wickedly. "You know you can't." he stopped moving all together, edging you for the third time that day.

He took you by your forearms and pulled you onto his chest. You could barely stand, but he tugged you off the bed with him still inside you, and led you backwards to the coffee table across the room. He sat down on the edge with you on top of him.

"You said you missed me, yeah?" you leaned back on him, trying to come to your senses. His hands firmly held your waist and lips brushed against your neck when you nodded your head. "Now show me exactly how much you missed me. Bounce." he slapped your thigh.

You took a deep breath in and leaned forward, putting yourself in a position you could easily jump up and down his dick. You used his knees for support, establishing a rhythm.

"Aw, come on, princess, I thought you missed me more than that." he cupped your breast and grazed your neck with his teeth. You whined and sped up. "That's my good princess." he whispered. "And good princesses get rewarded." he wrapped his arm around you, pressing the tips of his fingers over your clit.

You leaned backwards, grabbing him by the nape of his neck and whimpering into his ear.

"Oh, you missed me that much, haven't you? You missed me so much you want to cum again?" he hissed.

"Yes, Pierre, please..." you pleaded, rolling your hips on him.

"I'm sorry, princess, but I will have to disappoint you again." you couldn't move anymore so he took matters into his own hands or better say, your hips and started guiding them up and down.

Your whole body was shaking, your head was hanging low, but he wasn't done with you. Not yet. He pushed you off his dick and stood up. Picking you up in his arms, he carried you to the dresser where he sat you down. He separated your legs wide and slapped your pussy with his dick. You leaned back on the wall and bit your lip. Taking you by the legs, he yanked you forward onto his dick again. Wrapping them around him, you pushed him even deeper inside you.

He slammed into you with all his might, making you delirious, not even able to scream anymore, just chant his name under your breath. His mouth got a hold of your nipple, biting and sucking while his fingers pinched the other one. You squealed in surprise, arching your back and losing your fingers into his hair. He moved up to kiss your lips, resting his forehead on yours. You were both sweaty and panting. You looked down, his dick going in and out of you, hitting all the right spots.

"What are you looking at, princess?" he noticed. "You like seeing it disappear deep inside of your tight little pussy and making you feel like a perfect little slut you are, huh?"

"Yeah..." you could feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment. All you wanted was to hide your face into his chest.

"No need to get all flustered now, you know I love you like that." he picked up the pace a bit and in response, you pulled him by the cross necklace into a kiss.

Your orgasm was coming soon again and he felt it. He slowed down, scooping you up and carrying you to the armchair. You groaned into his shoulder.

"I know, princess, I know. Just a little longer, I promise." he caressed your hair.

He sat you down, positioning you on top of him.

"Ride me now, come on, princess, I know it's your favorite. I saved best for last." every atom in your body refused to move from overstimulation, but somehow, you found it in you to rock your hips back and forth. "Yes, princess, ride me." he encouraged. "God, you feel so good." with his hands on your waist, he helped you keep the pace. You even started bouncing a little. "Mm, you're doing so good, keep going." he moaned.

But you couldn't. You threw yourself onto his chest and he instantly wrapped his arms around you, taking over. With only a few more pumps, your whole body started trembling on top of his, your walls tightening like never before. You were on the verge of screaming.

"I'm going to cum." you said.

"No, not yet, princess, hold it." his face twisted in reaching his own orgasm.

"Pierre, please, I need to cum, I need to cum right now!" you yelled.

"Just a little bit longer, princess. Just hold it and we cum together, alright?" he didn't wait for your answer, he kissed you to shut you up. "Now, princess, let go now." he said and pushed himself deep inside of you.

Your moans echoed off the walls as you fell onto him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You collapsed onto his chest, burying your face in the crook of his neck, still joined together and sweaty from the intensity of it all. His arm was draped over you while the other one stroked your hair, his lips whispering sweet nothings. You could feel his dick still inside of you, twitching ever so slightly.

The only sound that could be heard was that of your heavy breaths. As if to confirm how intense the moment had been, you moved your hand to feel his heart beating rapidly beneath his chest. He kissed your temple and you sniffled.

"Hey," he said, rising you up. "Hey, princess, look at me. Are you crying?" you, in fact, were crying. "Did I... Did I fuck you to tears?" he smugly smirked and you laughed.

"Yeah, you did." you confirmed and he pulled you in for another kiss.

"It was that good, huh?"

"It was." you laid back on his chest as he ran his fingers down your spine.

"It was a bit rougher than I intended to," he admitted. "but you took it like a good girl. I'm sorry if I did hurt you." he kissed the top of your head.

"Nah, it was alright." you lazily replied. "We should do it again later." you smirked.

"Wait, really?" you nodded. "But no, no later for you. You should take a rest. I'm going to fix you a bath and take care of you now."

Your groans of discomfort prompted him to help you up and usher you to the bathroom. There, he filled a bathtub with hot water and bubbles for your relaxation. He then took a shower while you lay there, but when you invited him in for other activities, he told you to keep it light. He certainly had his moments of dullness. After his shower, he went off to look for clothes in the bedroom, leaving you alone in the bathroom. Glancing out of the window, the sun seemed to be just about ready to dip below the horizon.

"Pierre?" you called.

"Yeah?"

"Do you want to go grab dinner with me?"

"Sure, my princess needs to refuel after all that exercising she just did." his smirk revealed he was teasing you.

You rolled your eyes and smiled in spite of yourself. You still tried to persuade him to go further than a dinner date later that night, but he refused your advances. Not even your tight black mini dress could alter his decision. He kept insisting that you needed to rest and take it easy—blah, blah, blah. But the look on his face and his tight pants said something different anyway.

[anonymouscapybara]

people say the worst SI unit is the mole. "ohhh but it's just a number it doesn't even have anything attached it doesn't deserve to be an official unit" BZZZ WRONG

the worst unit is the candela. the candela is stupid.

what's the candela, you ask? well, it measures the brightness of light

"oh that sounds reasonable" you say, "just measure the energy or power emitted!" nope. they would not do anything nearly so simple. a lightbulb emitting a watt of yellow light is more candelas than a lightbulb emitting a watt of red light.

"ok that's weird" you say, "but maybe they're adjusting for that somehow? maybe it measures number of photons?" again, that would be far too reasonable. a lightbulb emitting a fixed rate of yellow-light photons is more candelas than the same rate of purple-light photons.

but what are they even measuring then? what else is there to measure? clearly they ran out of ideas while making up units, because what they're actually measuring is the SUBJECTIVE BRIGHTNESS OF LIGHT TO THE HUMAN EYE. the candela is STUPID

a reasonable question to ask is: how would you even measure the brightness of light to the human eye? aren't a lot of human eyes different? don't different things look bright in different circumstances? aren't there colorblind people in the world?

surely the General Conference on Weights and Measures, which spent millions precisely calibrating magnetic quantum flux to avoid basing the kilogram on a random block in France, has a clever solution!

no. no they don't. the candela is stupid.

as far as I can tell, what you do is you first measure how much light of each wavelength comes in. Then you multiply each measurement by a "luminosity function", which measures brightness to the human eye:

you will notice that there are multiple functions shown in this diagram. the SI system has five of these, for different lighting conditions. do your lighting conditions not exactly follow one of the Five Official Standardized Lighting Conditions? guess you're out of luck then.

and whose eye are we using? why, the Official Standardized CIE Photometric Observer, of course: the "ideal observer having a relative spectral responsivity that conforms to a CIE-defined spectral luminous efficiency function for human vision"

(and no I can't show you this function because the fine people of the ISO put it BEHIND A PAYWALL. who puts measurements determining a fundamental SI unit BEHIND A PAYWALL. the candela is stupid)

all right, so we're measuring a fundamental unit using a (nonexistent) idealized observer in one of five random lighting conditions. how did they find the values for this? i'm...not entirely sure. but here's a glimpse, based on a few of the most recent studies I found used for this:

"...heterochromatic (minimum) flicker photometric data obtained from 40 observers (35 males, 5 females) of known genotype..."

"To obtain an estimate of the mean L-cone fundamental, we weighted [weird variables] according to the ratio of 0.56 L(S180) to 0.44 L(A180) found in the normal, male Caucasian population...and averaged them together"

that's right, our Official Objective Brightness Unit is probably sexist and racist. none of the other SI units have a chance to be sexist and racist. a meter is a meter in every country on Earth. 6.022*10^23 For Women is still 6.022*10^23. but the candela is-- probably-- the white man's candela, because you can absolutely bet that genetic drift around the world gives different values for this stuff.

in summary: my opinion, as you might have guessed, is that the candela is stupid. hopefully you agree with me after reading this that we need to completely eradicate it from the planet. failing that could we at not give it the same level of officialness as the meter or the kilogram?

[elderwisp]

◁ || ▷ now playing

Frances: Look, I’m sorry about my friends. I swear, they aren’t that weird all the time. Well… 

Icarus: [ chuckles ] It’s fine. They seem to care about you a great bunch. 

Frances: I honestly think they would take a bullet for me. I’d do the same for them.

Icarus: That’s good though, I’m glad you have people looking out for you.

Frances: Would you say the same for your friends?

Icarus: Yeah, I think so. This your room?

Frances: Mhm. You can come in.

Icarus: You sure?

Frances: Or we can talk right here. Although I imagine you’re gonna get a bit tired of the drunk people running into the door.

Icarus: [ small laugh ] Good point. You like to collect a lot of things. Is this a rock?

Frances: A geode, I think if I wasn’t a music major, I’d probably be a geologist. 

Icarus: You could always study for another four years.

Frances: Pfft. Absolutely not. I never want to buy another textbook again. 

Icarus: Are you excited for what comes next?

Frances: Actually, about that. I need to talk to you about something.

Icarus: Is it bad?

Frances: Sort of.

Icarus: Then we can talk about it another time. We’re celebrating.

Frances: Icarus…

Icarus: You gonna deny me that?

Frances: [ shakes head ]

Icarus: Good. 

-

Dan: Oye pendejo! Where are you going with my alcohol?!

Ares: JESUS!

Dan: It’s okay I know him. Pues?!

Atlas: No te preocupes, vamos a divertirnos! Mwah! / Don't worry, we're going to have fun!

Dan: [ grumbles ] That fucker.

Ares: Context??

Dan: He literally always does this. He always steals my alcohol!

Ares: You should beat him up.

Dan: I should- Why are you encouraging me?

Ares: I dunno. Feelin’ evil I guess. Got a light?

Dan: Now what the hell is up with you not having a lighter? 

Ares: I do! I just never refill it. 

Dan: I don’t even think said lighter is in the room with us.

Ares: You know there are some things I’m allowed to not be put together with and this is one of them. 

Dan: Here. Keep it.

Ares: I am not keeping your things.

Dan: You sayin’ there’s something wrong with it?

Ares: I’m not doing this with you.

Dan: Oh so you hate me.

Ares: Yep, I guess I do.

Gabriel: Dan! Now why the hell were there two people making out in the entrance? 

Dan: They’re still doing that?

Gabriel: I mean good for them but like… Get outta my way, you know?

Dan: Pfft! Thank you for coming! 

Gabriel: Of course! I brought a bottle of wine but Gum took it. 

Ares: Gum’s here? And she’s alone?

Gabriel: She’s fine. Knows exactly where I’m at, besides something caught her eye. 

-

Frances: You’ve been practicing.

Icarus: I have a great teacher.

Frances: Man, I’m gonna miss this.

Icarus: Sit. I know you’re scared that things are changing.

Frances: Icarus, I need to-

Icarus: I’d like it if you enjoyed this moment with me. Please?

Frances: Okay.

Icarus: When do you leave?

Frances: First week of July. God, leave it to the universe to cosmically fuck up my life.

Icarus: Not even! 

Frances: I mean is it selfish for me to be a tad bit unhappy? Everything I’ve worked for, built up to this very moment and it’s not enough. 

Icarus: Sometimes expectations are just that. A lead up to disappointment. 

Frances: I’m sorry, I’m being so negative right now. We were having a moment and I started to ramble.

Icarus: Don’t apologize. From the time I’ve known you, I can see you’re a bit of an overthinker but! Before you give me that look, it isn’t a bad thing.

Frances: It isn’t bad… It’s horrible.

Icarus: [ chuckles ] Stop it! You like to see things in every perspective and it’s endearing. 

Frances: Said the only person ever.

Icarus: Why are you so keen on giving me a hard time?

Frances: Why not? I think you like it.

Icarus: I like a lot of things about you, Frances. Be here with me?

Frances: Even if it breaks my heart?

Icarus: At least you won’t be alone in that.

[ahhhhhhh-e-i-e-i-o]

this is ur free pass to talk about ur hyperfixation. i have no idea wtf it is but i want to hear

You dont understand how happy that just made me, I literally giggled and jumped up and down like a little girl.

Ok so it's this show called SKAM, or Shame in norwegian (and I'm deep in it rn). So it's basically this Norwegian teen drama but there's a ton of remakes around the world (so far I've seen Skam France and WTFock which is Skam Belgium, but there's a ton, like Skam Italy and Skam Austin). But the cool thing is when it aired it was in real time and random, so basically if there was a clip of an episode that took place at 5:30 on Monday, it would air at 5:30 on Monday and then at the end of the week they would release the whole episode. But ALSO, they would randomly release texts between the characters AND all the characters had Instagram accounts run by the show that would post randomly. And so basically each season follows a different character and the OG only had 4 seasons but some of the remakes have many many more, and the remakes have to follow the same characters and general storyline of the first four seasons, but then they can do whatever they want and it's really cool.

So basically everyone's favorite season (and the reason I watched) is season 3 because it's about these guys Even and Isak who fall in love (and we love queer romance) and it's actually soooo good. Basically Isak is gay but super in denial and has all this internalized homophobia that goes out the fucking window when he meets Even, a raging pansexual with enough charisma to make a lesbian fall for him istg (ok maybe not a lesbian but at least a straight man I'm sure). But, mild spoiler, Even has bipolar disorder and has this intense manic episode around Isak which fucks everything up and his ex is like super toxic, but then they get over it and have some of the cutest scenes I've ever seen in TV history.

I've really onyl watched season 3 of Skam France and WTFock, and just clips from the other ones, but from what I can tell, Skam France is very similar to the OG, and WTFock is a little darker (like at one point they get beat up on the street by homophobes). But I really like the remakes because the characters aren't exactly the same even though the story is. So like Robbe (Belgian Isak) is super adorable and little tiny baby and like Isak is too but not in the same way. And like Eliott (French Even) has more of a temper and he's a little more "cool guy" and yeah idk.

I also love love love season 5 of Skam France because it's about Arthur who is the love of my life (dear lord he's so hot) and he goes deaf and I think it's a really great story. I also really like television that focuses on a sense (or lack thereof) especailly hearing because you can do some really cool stuff with it. I think the show did some things about it really excellently and some things I would've done differently just to evoke a different or stronger emotional reaction but I still think it was really cool.

Idk I just love it sm it gives me so much dopamine and just like. joy. ahhhhh thanks for letting me rant even if you don't read it I love talking about Skam and my friends are probably so happy I'm talking about it here and not to them anymore haha.

[redbirdandbluebird23]

To Bite or not to Bite

Masterlist

Written for the Batman Halloween Bash 2024 (@wait-whos-batman) in collaboration with @graytodd whose art can be found here!

“So, are we talking like a full Dracula situation, or like a Twilight situation? Because they’re completely different scenarios.” Jason says, trying to suppress the urge to laugh hysterically because while there were a lot of things he was prepared for tonight, this was absolutely not one of them. Haley continues winding around his ankles, trying to get his attention, but Jason can’t shift his focus from Dick right now. 

Dick gives him a scathing look from where he’s sat on the floor on the other side of the room, still looking like he’s ready to bolt out of the window if Jason tries getting any closer. 

“You can give me that look all you want, but I think it’s a relevant worry. Like are you going to need to sleep in a coffin or shit like that? What exactly do I need to know here?” Jason asks, shifting very slowly further into the room, not missing the way Dick’s eyes are tracking him with an unnatural precision. 

“I already told you what you need to know.” Dick says, his eyes flickering to the wooden stake on the floor that he’d practically thrown at Jason’s feet when he first walked in. 

“And I already told you; fuck that!” Jason snaps. “The fact you even asked me gives me all the reasons I need to refuse. So, I’ll ask you again, what do I need to know ?”

“They’re dead, the rest of them, I killed them.” Dick says, not looking at Jason and instead focusing on a random spot on the wall. 

“They were already dead, Dickie, I don’t think it really counts.” Jason folds down to sit cross-legged on the floor, still not too close given the look Dick shoots him. It gives Haley the chance she’s been waiting for as she immediately crawls into his lap and tries to lick his chin. He grabs her around the middle and scratches between her ears instead. 

Dick gives him a look that suggests he doesn’t agree, but he doesn’t try to argue. “From what they were saying, most of the myths are true. Blood, no sunlight, silver, stakes, crosses; all of that is true. The garlic and coffin thing is bullshit though. But that’s probably also where the main issue lies.”

“There’s a bigger issue than not being able to go out in daylight anymore?” Jason asks with a raised eyebrow. 

“I have to sleep with ancestral dirt, as in the dirt from where I was born and apparently there are consequences if I don't. Although they were a little vague on what the consequences will be.” 

“I mean, that won’t be too hard to get hold of, even if you can’t go outside during the day.” Jason says, not quite seeing the problem. 

Dick bites his lip and looks away from him again. “Jay, I don’t know where I was born and it’s not like I can just ring my parents and ask.”

“Doesn’t Bruce have your birth certificate?” Jason asks, well aware that Bruce made sure he now had everyone’s birth certificates after what happened to Jason because of his. 

“My birth was registered in France, due to my mom’s dual citizenship, when I was a few months old, but I don’t think I was actually born in France, no matter what the certificate says.” Dick says, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around them. It draws Jason’s attention to how pale he looks, but it’s not in a sickly kind of way, more that he looks carved from marble compared to his usual tan tones. 

Jason chews his lip and continues scratching Haley’s ears as he thinks about what to say next. “What about someone from the circus? Would they know? You could frame it as looking into your family history or some shit like that and then we can get some dirt.” Christ, that is a sentence he never expected to say. 

“Oh yeah, that could work. I’ll call Pop Haley.” Dick says quietly as he stands up and makes his way into the bedroom. Jason knows he’s still not entirely on board with the whole living as a vampire thing, but he waits until Dick’s out of sight before grabbing the stake off the floor and promptly throwing it out of the window. 

Haley barks at him and nudges at his leg as he grips the window ledge and takes a deep breath. This is… complicated in a way he doesn’t know how to deal with. “ Fuck . What am I gonna do Hales?”

Read on Ao3

[formercarylshipper]

Thoughts on TBOC finale ***SPOILERS AHEAD***

I have to say I was curious when Norman repeatedly claimed that the finale is the best hour of TWD ever. But then watching S2, and the way it was written, the story, etc, i had my doubts. Then I watched the finale. In my opinion, it was not the best hour of TWD television. Not even close. Not even the best TWD finale. BUT, I do have to say that the location and the zombies were definitely unique and not something we've seen before, so kudos for that.

The best part of it was Carol. We already know that Melissa is a tremendous actress and she did not disappoint. I cried. The emotion in that final scene was so beautiful. And it felt like Carol's trauma around Sophia has been resolved in a way and I'm hoping that it allows Carol to finally start healing and move foward.

Can't say the same for Daryl. Maybe it was lost on me, which is completely possible. I saw a man who was ready to give up. Granted, he had just been through quite the beating by not just one, but 3 people. I don't imagine he felt amazing in that moment, so I get it. But also, I do feel like there was a bit of a "what's the point" moment. And then Isabelle shows up. I'm still not sure what she meant to Daryl but there she is stroking his face and telling him not to give up, to believe in hope and then telling him that he's not going to die in France like his grandfather did and leave his family behind. We know Daryl struggled with his grandfather's story in S1. In a way, it was very beautiful, her giving him hope since that what she represented. And Daryl is crying while staring softly up at her. Likely a combination of a few feelings I imagine. There was also a script leaked awhile back and A LOT got cut from this scene. It was supposed to show Daryl dealing with feelings of guilt around the deaths of Merle, Glenn and Beth. But we don't see that. Just a sweet moment between Daryl and "the love of his life".

I feel like, aside from Isabelle's apparition, she had a bigger presence in this episode. And that might just be my own interpretation. But the song with Laurent and Daryl i think had to do with Isabelle with the lyrics "you can't always get what you want, but you get what you need" suggesting that Daryl wanted a family with Isabelle and Laurent but that, in fact, Carol was what Daryl needed which lines up with what Norman said about the Carol being the person that he needs. Then Fallou leaving but then deciding to stay with this new woman that he's found romance with, was representative of the choice Daryl's felt with Isabelle and that Fallou got his happy ending, where Daryl didn't. I think that Isabelle showing up isn't necessarily a closure for Daryl and it's not necessarily wrapping up that story and that character. It's already been hinted to us that Daryl is going to continue to deal with his grief in S3. To me, it seems that Isabelle was more than just an acquaintance or "experiment". Was he in love with her? No, I don't think so. But I also don't think Daryl knew exactly what he felt. Since according to Norman, Daryl's never experienced that before. So he's probably trying to figure out how he feels about all of it.

Overall, the season didn't leave me wowed. It's called The Book Of Carol, but it just felt like Carol was a side kick to Daryl's story. And things just felt awkward. There's still so much missing between those two. Norman wants to make us think things are all perfect between them, but it's not coming out on the screen that way. Have Daryl and Carol changed too much to get back to what they were before? They don't feel like the BFF's they were in the flagship show. There's just...something missing.

Tbh, nothing i saw is giving me lots of excitement for S3. Time will tell.

[endlesscolddreams]

Why don't you ship usuk?

Because there are many types of love, and I honestly think familial love applies much better here.

That is not to say I don’t understand why one ships them or that they don’t fit, because that would be a lie. They are similar and different in equal measures, which makes them a great pair, and the gloomy vs. sunshine trope is appealing, but I can’t really ship them because there is a certain unconditional love between them that’s familial and not romantic in my opinion.

Familial bonds are foundational, providing a sense of security, identity, and history. Romantic bonds are more fluid, passionate, and dynamic, built on mutual attraction and emotional connection. Romantic love can be fleeting, can come and go, can destroy you and resent someone so much you want to destroy them because of the risks of change and heartbreak, but only a familial bond is enduring and eternal despite conflict or distance.

Take it with a grain of salt because, and I will repeat, this is just my opinion, and I’m sure someone must have put this into better words before, but I never talked about it, and I feel like developing this question.

America is the boy who grew up admiring England, doing everything to please, and while England felt this huge unconditional love for him because he was his boy—the best thing that ever happened to him really—he is a messy person who has trouble opening up, and each time he tried he would say the wrong thing or just dismiss America entirely. He was a strong empire with bigger problems at home, many places to be from one corner of the world to the other, and his guilt was enormous because he could see that America was just like him: a small, unruly thing who was lonely and unprepared, which meant toughening him up. It was exactly what made him become what England became, but obviously the situation is much different, times are different, and America may have many similarities to him on the surface, but deep down he is a completely different person.

(Sidenote: I headcanon that his avoidant and anxious attachment style is more like Francis than like England's avoidant tsundere, which makes Arthur astonished and completely out of his depth. Another thing to take into account is that, just like Francis, America is his own person and much more resilient than England, something England doesn't fully understand. England is sensible, prone to hold onto traditions since they give him control, and his youth was such a mess he was never his own person and suffers from a chronic identity and woes. 

Not that England shows that side of him; like all nations, his mask was carefully built to make him look unfeeling and cold, a preventive measure that creates a distance that is very common between parents and children. It's very difficult to read old nations properly; they have a flair for theatrics and meticulous rules and etiquette that only they still follow. America doesn't understand it, but he's not interested in knowing it either since he willingly prefers to be seen as a fool, his own facade, and basically ignores it, which only increases that distance. 

France uses his dramatic nature to overexpose and act out emotions that blatantly hide his real feelings, and I get the feeling that sometimes Alfred does that just to infuriate England.)

Now, America indeed needed to get rid of England, not only for his country but because of Arthur himself.

Arthur, the person, was emotionally dependent on him. He controlled everything to fuel up that dependency, and Alfred was finally enlightened enough to see that while he loved his father figure he was being caged in. He is his own man; he is strong enough, and he aims higher than he’s allowed to, so there is only one solution: freedom.

France plays a huge part in this by telling him about the days of his own captivity, days spent locked in palaces, forced to be the ideal 'representative' his bosses dreamed of a nation like him when all he wanted was to be a pirate like Spain, a missionary travelling the world, maybe dress prettily like he always loved without being forced to forgo certain colours or fashion, and most important of all: mingle with his lovely humans instead of sitting in his gilded cage. France is petty, and his resentment fuelled his words, but at the same time he saw promise in America, even if that promise was mainly to undermine and distract England from his goals.

(I will always hc that Francis dreamed of a world in his image and truly thought that having it all would bring peace and beauty for all these unfortunate souls who are less civilised.)

I digress here, but America looked up to France too because while England likes to trash talk his enemy, he respects him and even admires certain parts of him, which led to America's willingness to meet the blasted frog who makes England so angry he shakes like a flustered puppy.

This is to say that the fallout of the relationship between father and son was a mess because they wouldn't communicate. It doesn't mean the fallout wasn't needed—far from it. England was always too proud to back down, unwilling to conceive that he was not completely right and righteous in what he did for America because ultimately he was doing his best and loved him more than anything else.

But as soon as the war was over, they sat together and made new agreements that completely neglected all the others who helped America in the war. True story, it's like the kid who finally leaves home yet needs the parents help to make his new house presentable and functional. I imagine England would give him a proper trousseau, something he never gave anyone else because this was his heir and greatest hope/disappointment.

Still, there was a strain. Arthur was truly hurt, felt abandoned, and blamed everyone and himself for what happened, and Alfred was also hurt because all he wanted was Arthur’s support yet all he got was stiflement.

I think Alfred was always sure of Arthur’s love (unlike Matthew with Francis), but because Arthur can’t properly show it in a reasonable way (everyone has different needs and Alfred’s love languages are way different than Arthur’s in the end), their relationship was strained for that wretched century. It didn't’ help that Arthur was still trying to meddle in his business when he was growing and proving himself. Most of all, Alfred wanted to impress and show the world his valour, something Arthur didn’t think he needed to do because his worth was always very clear to him.

They only really begin speaking when they are forced together by the wars. The first one showed them how similar their interests and ways of working are, which opened them a little for proper communication, and the second really made them sit down and talk because enough is enough and America is a superpower in his own right and England is not as mighty as he once was, but he is still respected and finally begins to learn how to let Alfred go and trusts him to come back safe.

Nowadays, they're more in tune than not. England reluctantly let's America do his thing despite being the first to run across the world just to point out he warned him as he bakes him a treat (he's a lovely baker), and America, despite it all, keeps sneakily asking for England's advice because he's old and lived too long, and America secretly will always look up to him as an example and moral compass.

The thing with love and parents is that the relationship will never be easy.

You don't really communicate; the parents always see you as a small kid who keeps fucking up; you see them as obsolete fools who try to keep relevant despite the world being completely different, yet you still love each other and behave a lot like one another despite it all.

Alfred truly resembles Arthur in certain things (just ask Russia who will tell that he did the same thing during both the great game with England and the cold war with America, or maybe France, who has a certain fondness for America because he reminds him of the enemy across the channel. You can even ask China, who will tell his memory, sometimes mixes them both together, greedy children who can't play nice and enjoy disturbing his sleep. The only ones who refuse to see the semblance are indeed Arthur and Alfred, yet I think Alfred is more aware of it than Arthur, king of denial) and is almost a truly different version of England in others, but in the end it's pretty much clear that they’re related, or at least love each other unconditionally in a way a romantic love would destroy.

[no-stupid-questions-official]

possible a very controversial question, but i (not jewish, and not very educated on this) don't understand why zionism is bad. i originally wasn't sure what it meant because it got thrown around a lot so i looked it up and apparently it refers to the idea of wanting a country/land for the jewish people. the main criticism against zionism seems to be that a jewish ethnostate is bad for obvious reasons, but... i've never seen anyone describe zionism as wanting a jewish ethnostate? i could be 1000% wrong on this but i thought it just referred to wanting a country for the jewish people that still worked like any other country, where you're not limited by nationality but there is a language and culture and space for those people to belong. (every country is a country for the nationality of its inhabitants. i.e. france is a country where everyone is free to come and go as they please, but if i defined it as 'the country for french people', probably no one would disagree with me because i would be correct in saying that the people who live there are primarily french.) so, if i have this correct, what then is exactly the mainstream problem with having a country (not an ethnostate) for jewish people?

This topic had gotten out of hand before, so some reminders for replies:

Do not express a desire for an entire nation of people to be killed.

Do not endorse terrorist groups.

Do not spread misinformation. Cite your sources wherever possible, and if you can't, give context on the limits of your answer.

[hetalia-has-a-secretary]

Okay but allies and axis with a normally shy and pure s/o putting her hand on their lap and asking “is this seat taken?”

Allies + Axis dealing with a S/O "looking for a place to sit"

Alies:

America

For once he's a little speechless

Doesn't say anything until he pulls his S/O into his lap

"Is this what you wanted?"

He says with a playfully pout.

Kisses all over

Hopefully his S/O doesn't break under the attention!

They might be there a while.

He may get a tad touchy but never doing anything to scare them off.

England

"W-What? I mean, of course not!"

About a 5/10 when it comes to recovering from the initial shock.

He's WICKED squirmy once his S/O actually sits down.

Poor man is TRYING to keep his gentleman composure

His leg will start to bounce and he doesn't know what to do with his hands for a solid 15 seconds

Eventually leads his head on their shoulder and wraps his arms around their waist

Comfy silence engulfs the the rest of the cuddle session

France

Oh man. I hope his S/O KNEW what they had signed up for

This sudden surge of bravery is sooo sexy~

He's already pulled them on to his lap, facing him and resting their head into his chest.

He starts whispering promises of an endless night, if they chose to let him go that far.

If not he is 100% down for some light teasing and cuddles.

He will also be the first to fall asleep if they stay like that for too long.

His yawns are painfully cute!

China

He instantly chuckles and plays along.

Either he will act all shy like an innocent princess, or like a mafia boss getting his way.

He definitely leaves a trail of kisses either way and won't let go until his S/O is ready.

Prepare for extra gifts and love for displaying such courageous actions

Makes sure to tell his S/O how proud he is for it as well~

Russia

He's a little taken aback at first but laughs it off and opens his arms wide for them!

He does prefer them face to face so he can nuzzle their noses and cheeks together

Careful if you set on top of his legs, he will turn into a bounce house at that point (take that as innocently as you want, or not)

His scarf gets wrapped around them at some point as well and he is the perfect balance of ice and heat

There's also a huge chance he thinks they just want a hug

Good luck getting him to let go once he's comfortable...

Axis

Germany

He goes a little red in the face and grows quiet

His S/O shouldn't take his silence and stern look for rejection

He's just weighing out his options on how he should respond

If it's later on at night and he doesn't have any meetings they should prepare for it to turn intimate

Any other time and he will give them a shy cuddle session

He tries to play it off like he's not totally into it, but he is

He will be whispering many praises over his treasure and their bravery.

Also mentions that they should do that more often.

Italy

Is kind of confused but has the spirit!

Not at all shy about it and gives immediate nuzzles and squeezes

His S/O is too cute and precious!

Don't. Be. Fooled.

He'll start to do things like graze their thigh and play it off innocently. TOO innocently

He's just silly, not dumb and knows exactly what his S/O wants, and likes.

It's like a cute and cuddly mime field!

Japan

This depends on where the relationship is, and if he's in his home or not.

If they've been together a while chances are he's already bathing with them (if they're OK with it) and he's even initiated hand holding and cuddles!

He's a completely different person when it's just him and his S/O.

He'll probably be kneeling on the floor, so be prepared for it to be slightly awkward to get comfortable, but he can manage.

He acts like he didn't hear what they said and it becomes such a peaceful and calming atmosphere

That is until S/O feels a light breeze go into their ear.

He will let go if they get uncomfortable but is 100% taking advantage to tease them and try and catch up on all the months they stayed touch starved.

If they ARENT that far into the relationship he'll be reluctant but agreeable. So be very gentle with the Japanese man.

[ominiscorridor]

About Unions in France

I had this feeling when looking at the discourse that a lot of people reacting were likely american/used to american ways because a lot of the time they immediately jumped to "qsmp will get sued!" I know that while it's a possibility, it's also usually one of the last resorts when unions get involved... Like the point isn't to destroy a company as much as to make it a better workplace, unions don't want to take people's jobs away as much as ensure they get decent working conditions from my experience. Pretty sure the moment Quackity Studios improves and actually follow the laws, the Union will leave them be. It's more a way to apply pressure on them to do the right thing to begin with, and if the qsmp higher ups decide to ignore it then union negociations will have failed and it'll be time to involve the law.

Also union reps tend to be HR but for the employees, like when you get involved in any type of workplace issue here in France a union rep can and will come with you to face a supervisor and ensure you as an employee get proper advice on how to handle the situation, when HR seeks to minimise issues for the company... Like unions do a lot of cool stuff aside from strikes and lawsuits lmao.

https://www.vie-publique.fr/fiches/24063-quel-est-le-role-dun-syndicat

This explains (in French) what unions do, and the first big point, "représentation des salariés et de défense de leurs intérêts (recueil des revendications, passage d'informations...) " explains that unions "represent employees and defend their interests (gathering their demands, sharing information); based on the message put out by the union involved, they're currently doing exactly that- trying to understand what the employee's demands are.

With their knowledge of French Law and the power given to unions here, they can then basically intercede for the employees (so Leasagne or Pomme's admin), making sure their working conditions actually follow the law, and doesn't cause them too much harm. Normally because it's not online, that's when you'd see people strike as an example. In the article they bring up petitions; I'm pretty sure the public attention is causing more than enough pressure on Quackity studio to give the Union quite the advantage in these negociations right now (which, ironically, is similar to the effect a strike should have, like when the trains stop running the goal isn't just to fuck with people trying to go to work, it's meant to bring attention to an issue. For the trains it's just they do it so often it mostly makes them look like dicks by now- but that's a personal opinion and I'm getting very sidetracked.)

On the topic of union the link shared also show other nifty things they do like they help with handling retirement funds, healthcare etc (actually another interesting point they might bring up with the qsmp; were they actually making sure to pay in to these funds like it's mandated when hiring someone in France? Since they weren't based in France it'd be interesting to see how this would usually go.)

[abybweisse]

People who don't believe in or even Hate the undertaker=cedric theory always have tow reasons, 1,they simp over ut so bad that they can't tolerate him having kids with another person 2, it will make him absurd, because love makes things cheap and not interesting, which I highly disagree with,because if there was anything ever between them I highly doubt it was lovey dovey and healthy, I mean we have ut who is a literal death God and I don't see him as a caring and gentle person like many do at all, and then we have claudia p ( I meant c'mon she is the grandmother of ciel and the mother of vincent, just imagine how deranged and manipulative she herself was) so I really think the relationship between tham was fascinating although I don't think we will ever get a flashback of them because it's not relevant to the current story... just wanted to know ur opinion on this.

Some UT x Claudia/Cloudia thoughts

Well, anon, it's an interesting take, and I agree with certain elements of it, but I have to disagree with the rest.

Some fans might simp over him so much they can't stand the thought of him canonically with anyone, and some might find the "I did it for love" motive to be too cliché and boring. But there are other reasons I've seen for why detractors or critics of the theory don't like it.

Many of them can't handle the idea that a reaper could or would mate with a human. I believe it's entirely possible within the Kuroverse; it's just forbidden. Well, when you are a reaper who has deserted your post, why would you care anymore about the rules? In fact, I think he could have his own motives for mating with humans... like giving his human offspring traits that are supposed to be reserved for reapers. Or even with the intention of decreasing the number of new reapers (if they are reborn to reaper couples, as I theorize). A relatively small chunk of the fandom doesn't want Undertaker to be Vincent's father... because they ship those two guys together. Though, finding out they are father and son might not entirely stop them. 😑

It's possible that a relationship between Undertaker and Claudia/Cloudia wouldn't be the healthiest thing for either of them... but I can totally see it being lovey dovey 🥰. Don't forget that well-written characters aren't so one-sided, and they are allowed to be -- for example -- manipulative and cruel and loving and generous, depending on the circumstances. Undertaker can be gentle and caring; he might have been even more so before she died. Grandma P might have been strong willed and possessing of an evil streak a mile wide, but she also might have fallen head over heels for the most attractive male character in the series, according to Yana-san herself. Don't forget that despite him being cruel and manipulative as queen's watchdog, Vincent does truly love his family -- something else Yana-san has previously said. Why wouldn't people like Undertaker and Claudia/Cloudia produce children like Vincent and Francis/Frances? They seem exactly like the sort of offspring I'd imagine from a pairing like that. They might have had children together for more than one reason, but I believe love is one of them. An act of rebellion might be another. 😏

I sure expect at least one flashback of them together, since it's totally relevant to what's going on. Remember when Sebastian asks our earl just how far back they have to follow the series of events to figure out which culprits to target for revenge? Well, I think our earl's problems largely started with that pairing. Or, more specifically, started with people who didn't appreciate that pairing. I think it's why she died when (and however) she did. I think it adds to the various reasons why the Phantomhives were attacked in 1885. Forget the fans who don't like the pairing; there must be someone in the story that doesn't like it, either. Like the queen... or John Brown....

When Sebastian asks Undertaker what his relationship to the Phantomhive family is, he says he'll leave it up to imagination. But, eventually, I expect him to explain it anyway. And that's when we'd likely get at least a panel or two of them together. We could even get several chapters of them together in a long flashback.

[yikesharringrove]

For the longest time, Billy doesn't get why Steve keeps in contact with his parents when Billy was able to live his life without ever talking to his dad after moving out. He's tried exactly two times to see if they could repair their relationship and it's only reinforced that he wants nothing to do with his father. But Steve? He goes to his parent's parties and lets them show him off like some kind of rare dog breed. They call and he comes to stiff, hostiles family dinners and then home again to Billy, exhausted and sad.

Until one day Billy tries to convince him that he doesn't need to do this, that if they make him miserable and he doesn't have to bend over backwards for a scrap of affection and Steve looks at him with heartbreaking, genuine confusion and says "But I owe it to them. It's the least I can do to lay them back. For, y'know. Raising me. And the other stuff."

Steve had tears in his eyes when he closed the apartment door, and Billy knew it was a fucking bad one.

Dinner with the Harringtons was never a fun thing for Steve, but sometimes it was awkward and dull. And sometimes, sometimes it was downright hurtful.

He sat down on the couch next to Billy, curling so his head was on Billy’s lap.

“Baby, please. Next time they call, don’t go. You don't have to go."

Steve sighed, and Billy ran a hand through his hair, stiff with hairspray and neatly styled. So unlike the messy way he's been wearing it for the year they've lived together.

It was nice seeing Steve letting go. Not keeping up with the routines and expectations that were hoisted on him when he was young in a small town, with too-rich parents and too-little self-esteem.

"Bill, you know I do."

"Stevie, take it from me. I think that you'll feel a whole lot better once you're not at their beck and call. They don't care about you. It hurts, but you know it's true."

Steve squeezed his eyes closed, a sure sign he was still holding back tears.

"I can't cut them off, Bill. I can't. Neil, he was, he was so bad, but my parents, they're fine. They're fine, and I still owe them for years of putting up with me."

"You don't owe them shit! Parents are supposed to love their kids. And support them. And make them feel safe. And if you feel like you owe it to them for putting up with you, then they didn't do their one fucking job!"

Steve gently pushed Billy's hand out of his hair, sitting up on the couch to face him.

"It's just not so black and white. My parents didn't treat me like yours did. They paid for anything I wanted, and they let me do what I wanted without a lot of question. They bought my car, and they would've paid for my school, if I had gone."

"Throwing money at you isn't parenting. Loving you, is parenting."

"They love me." Steve's voice shook, and by the miserable look in his eyes, Billy knew even Steve didn't believe the words coming out of his mouth.

"Y'know, you're my family. Right, Stevie? Neil, and my mom. They proved they didn't want me, and they didn't give a rat's ass. You're right, it was easier for me. With my mom, I didn't even have a fucking choice whether I wanted her in my life, or not. But, the way they treat you like some kind of show dog. Like you're an expensive painting they bought in France to impress their friends. They hurt you. And they keep hurting you. And you deserve to be happy."

Billy reached out and laced his fingers with Steve's.

"Don't sell yourself short. I was with you when you cut your dad out. It wasn't easy. And your mom was even worse."

"Don't change the subject." Steve rolled his eyes, which meant he was feeling okay enough to be bitchy. A good sign. "I've said it a hundred times: just because they didn't hit you, doesn't mean they were good.

"Parents insist on bringing their kids into the world, and expect them to kiss the goddamn ground they walk on, just for not leaving them in the woods. They fuck us up, and want us to thank them for giving us a life we never asked for."

"I don't know," Steve said, laying his head back down onto Billy's lap. "The only thing Neil ever did right was have you."

The phone rang on the side table, the brand-new called I.D. displaying Harrington. Steve sighed.

"They're pissed off because I didn't say goodbye to the secretary they conveniently invited to dinner and conveniently sat next to me."

They had a habit of that, inviting some young woman to their dinner parties, as if to entice Steve out of the happy, stable, consistent, (homosexual), relationship he's been in for the past eight years.

Steve stared at the phone, chewing on his bottom lip.

"They'll be even more mad if I don't answer."

"I can't make the choice for you. You know my thoughts. I love you either way."

Steve glanced back to Billy, and picked up the phone.

"Hi-" he was cut off almost immediately. "I know I didn't say goodbye, I had a long drive."

They knew he had a long drive. They knew it was nearly two hours from their place in Hawkins back to Steve and Billy's Chicago apartment. They had nearly times it perfectly to call when Steve would be home.

"Yes, she was very nice." Steve rolled his eyes. "And very pretty. True." Another eye roll. "No, would not like her phone number, Dad."

There was a long pause, and Steve rubbed his eyes, propping the phone between his ear and his shoulder.

"It's been eight years, Dad, and Billy and I are not breaking up. Please stop calling it a phase."

Steven's homosexual phase, they called it.

The few times BIlly's been invited to a dinner party, the Harringtons will be stiffly polite to his face, but Billy wouldn't like to hear what they say about him behind closed doors. Or, maybe he would. Maybe he'd finally give Mr. Harrington the left hook to the jaw he deserves.

Steve looked at Billy, and he reached out to hold Billy's hand. Billy's heart thumped in his chest.

"No, I won't be able to make it next week." He took a shuddering breath. "In fact, I won't be coming around anymore. At least, at least not until you can Mom can show me that you guys actually value me more than-"

Billy could hear the monotone sound of the line going dead.

"He hung up on me," Steve said, his lower lip trembling.

"I'm sorry, Baby." Billy tugged Steve into his arms, reaching around him awkwardly to slam the phone back onto the receiver. "But you are so brave. So brave." He rocked back and forth gently. "You've had a long night. Let's go to bed."

Steve nodded, and they got up to get ready for bed, Steve's hands shaking ever so lightly as he brushed his teeth.

He didn't say anything until the lights were off, and he and Billy were wrapped around one another in bed.

"Thank you, Bill. I couldn't've done that, stood up to him, without you. I love you."

"I love you too. And I love you without expectation."

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2024: #27

27. FRANCE Slimane - "Mon amour" 4th place

Decade ranking: 103/153 [Above The Black Mamba, below Marco Mengoni]

Slimane has a very powerrful voice. 🙂

THE RANKING

Okay, FINE. I suppose I can't leave it like that. 🙄 Although I'd much rather would.

So *SLIME*-MANE. There's a lot to unpack and a lot I know most people will disagree with my takes, but oh well. I've ranked Joost low, and Mustii low, so it's only fair the Slimane fans get some scalding hot truth tea splashed in the face from this deluded overthinker. Disliking men is a much more productive way to run away from my problems than simpling them is.

So remember how I spoke about songs designed to Make People Cry? You know I hold emotional extortion in contempt. "Pity" is just a slightly more charitable way of looking down at others, and shouldn't be strived for. These anthems are inherently designed to manipulate the undiscerning into uglycrying while offering very little sustainance. Yep, we're here yet again. Another song that doesn't pass even a tiny bit of scrutiny, except in a language most viewers do not speak.

In fact, I'm pretty sure that "Mon Amour"'s francophoneness is what made many people sleep on the fact that it's not exactly narratively sound. Most people that I've spoken about ESC to that understand French haven't responded well to "Mon Amour" (lol one of my French friends bursting into chat all "SLIMANE REPS US? EW. HIS MUSIC IS SO BORING AND CORNY 😣" hours after Mon Amour's release passed without comment from any of us ♥).

The indifference makes sense when you read the lyrics. It's filled with cliche's that scream "I YEM ZE FR0NCH~", a little bit too much on the nose. If I thought "Évidemment" was bad, this is worse. Lines such as "reviens à Paris" and ''Es-ce-que tu-m'aimes où pas?" are such clichés they feel thoughtless and expected, like someone writing out the monologue on autopilot.

But what sets me off is the overal narrative. Slimane and France have attempted to retcon "Mon amour" as "the story of an artist reaching out to his fans, seeking validation" but that is not what the lyrics read out. Instead, speak of the aftermath of a broken romance, where SHE has had her heart shattered to a degree that she LEFT THE PROTAGONIST'S HOMETOWN FOR AN UNKNOWN DESTINATION AND BROKE OFF ALL CONTACT. Instead of giving her, you know, personal space or time to reflect, or even lick his wounds, he keeps desperately asking her whether she still loves him or not. Dude, I don't know her, and I know the answer is "no". Give it a rest, and move on. Sadly, Slimane didn't move on and spends a full three minutes wailing on about it. "I want her, I need her only her, why doesn't she love me". We know where this ends - with a restraining order and either her or him dead and dismembered inside a dumpster six months later. (Australia's jury of snarky yet emotionally intelligent gays picking up on this and ranking him dead last ♥ bless them ♥)

As you can perhaps tell, the above realizations completely KILL the romantic aspect of the song for me. I cannot, and WILL NOT get into its grief and sadness. All the parties involved should be GLAD it's over.

Instrumentally, the song's just... generic piano ballad, nothing new or innovative here. Dime a dozen, we've heard it before, bla bla bla. "Mon amour" is a nothingburger, an empty vessel for Slimane's vocal chops.

Which brings me to another problem I have with it - I personally don't really care much about technical skill? Eurovision is an audio-visual SONG contest, not a SINGING contest. It is cool that you can nail those masturbatory vocal projections. You're a singer who can sing. "Loud" however is a pitch, not an emotion. It would have been more impressive if you've also discovered the cure of cancer alongside it. (Curing tumors with vocal vibrations. Medical students reading this, get on it so I can be impressed by Slimane.)

Focusing exclusively on that though, is annoying to me. Good Eurovision entrants start with a SONG. "Mon amour" barely classifies as one. End off.

That isn't to say I cannot respect Slimane's vocal for what it was. I mean THIS:

is a feat only a few vocalists can successfully pull off. It is MORE impressive the first time you witness it before the laws of Diminishing Returns kicks in. But it was immensely clever to trial it at Dora and then include it into the song itself - it gives the performance stakes and gravitas, so why not?

However that brought the song's weakness even more to the forefront to me. My logic is the following: if you can pull off such a stunt, then why aren't you the immediate fave to win? Eurovision 2024 was the most open year perhaps of all times, and I'm supposed to believe a voice THIS strong cannot win it by itself? There are enough examples of strong vocals POWERING through merely decent songs (Céline and Corinne Hermès for instance) into a first place. If you can pull that off and still lose doesn't that prove your song is fucking shite?

Going into the contest I was HOPING to get something out of the live besides Big Vocals and also that France wouldn't morph into a direct contender to win (You would HOPE that 2024's varied and exciting line-up was competitive enough as to not crown a vocal projection exercise as its winner), and ultimately, I got both of my wishes because Eurovision 2024 was BORISVISION. I was the meta this year, bitches, and I think fourth place is a perfectly reasonable result for a vocal that strong on a song that nonexistent.

But more importantly, Slimane managed to inject his performance with EMOTIONS and good god I really needed that.

It took a LOT of effort from Slimane for me to recognize that yes, this man is cooking with gas, and his expertise elevates the whole package. "Seductive" is the incorrect emotion for the subject matter but whatever. Ignoring the subject matter is the only way you can enjoy the song, so if that's what one must to do end the night on a high note, so be it. I let it pass, with few regrets.

Like Nutsa, he served enough for me to respect him ~as a performer~ who deserved the result he got. Like "Firefighter", I still have some contempt for the song itself, and there's a strict limit for how Im i'm willing to place it.

Turns out that boundary lies at Marco Mengoni. "Mon amour" always felt like a lazy, soulless answer to "Due vite" for me, and I'm not willing put it ahead, nor to re-examine my stance on DV so quickly after my 2023 ranking. "Due vite" was a song that ultimately wasn't my cup of tea, but it was the superior composition, and deserves a higher mark.

So ultimately, I end with Slimane a bittersweet note. A man with the capability to win the Eurovision Song Contest, yes and who manifested his impending loss with below average penmanship. If the French are looking for someone to blame for not winning once since 1977, they can start with their failure to recognize their 2024 song needed a revamp.

THE RANKING (again)