#who shat on your beds my guys

[ishikawayukis]

the kny fandom is kinda funny with the ships because for some reason sanegiyuu gets an insane amount of hate because sanemi hates giyuu they never talk all that jazz, but no one bats an eye when people ship akaza and rengoku even tho he was literally killed by akaza but ok i guess?

[meadow-mellow]

me, getting notifs on twitter: *baby's first time being harassed by unhinged Romys <3* Sure, go off, lol. *proceeds to draw Magneto eating Rogue out*

[helladventurers]

God i fucking hate ARR writing 💀💀💀💀 sure my WoL, one of strongest warriors in the land, will just sit there and watch a bunch of armed tugs, who would likely die in a single hit, take her friend away and not lift a finger to stop it

[leeknow-thoughts]

୨୧ YOUNG AND INNOCENT

𝝑𝝔 cw : virgin reader, daddy!minho, p in v, mentions of oral, shower sex, overall pretty vanilla!

𝝑𝝔 a/n : miss mocha @yongbun wanted me to @ her !! And also holy shat guys i'm at 900 followers??? that's so insane to me!! I love you all so much :3

It was no secret, you were Lee Know's favorite member. He was never crude to you, mostly because you were one of the only members who never annoyed him.

And you were sweet, the second youngest member in the group who without fail remembered every birthday and anniversary and planned accordingly.

And you were innocent, the fact drove him crazy.

It drove him crazy how you sang Red Lights on stage and you would get embarrassed over it, how you would walk around the dorms in the flimsiest pair of sleep shorts and camisole ever made, how you would blush and get all embarrassed when fans would call you hot or sexy.

It drove him up the walls insane, your innocence. He was patient, for the most part, unless it came to you. He was protective, especially when it came to you.

You always assumed boys never asked you out because of your looks, but little did you know it was really because Lee Know would stare down any man with romantic or sexual intentions who came within a five meter radius of you.

After years of living with men, you had become quite accustomed to seeing male anatomy. Whether it was because the leader of your group was comfortable walking around shirtless, or because you had accidentally walked in on someone in the shower a few times, you became pretty desensitized to seeing naked men.

At first it would embarrass you, but after a while it just became part of life. But these men were your friends and coworkers, so when you would see them without their shirt on honestly it just started to feel like seeing your friends in a bathing suit.

And although you had gotten used to seeing male anatomy, your group mates would gawk and stare every time you showed even the slightest bit of skin. "What are you wearing?" Seungmin gawks when he sees you in your regular pajama shorts and cropped tank top, cuddled up on the couch, watching a movie.

"Pajamas?" you retort, not knowing why exactly it would cause him to freak out.

"God, y/n," Seungmin gaffs, "you need to get laid."

You can't help the blush that creeps up onto your face, "w-what?"

"You heard me!" Seungmin persists, "listen, I'm not trying to be rude but you're the only member of the team who is still a virgin."

"So?" you cross your arms, "why is that such a bad thing? And what does this have to do with my pajamas!"

"Because you're twenty-something-years-old and you've never had your first kiss," he explains, "listen, we need to find you a boyfriend or something, only your boyfriend should see you in those kinds of pajamas, half your ass is practically hanging out!"

"I d-don't need a boyfriend," you huff, turning away from him, refocusing on the television.

"Then what is stopping you from y'know getting some?" Seungmin poses.

"W-well g-guys aren't really that y'know, into me?"

"Oh bullshit, I could set you up with someone, one of my friends," Seungmin proposes, "only if you want to."

"I-I mean y-yeah that's fine," you can't help but stutter.

"Good, I'll give him your phone number," Seungmin promises.

You couldn't help but get excited with the idea of going out with a boy. A thought that terrified you as much as it exhilarated you. "Pixie?" you call out to the boy who is currently playing League of Legends on his PC, the glow of his pink and purple LED lights illuminating his features as his fingers rapidly click against the keyboard.

"Hm," his head shoots up, looking to where you stood in his doorway, "hey, what's up?"

"I need to talk to you, and I hoped it would stay between us?"

"O-oh okay, yeah come in, shut the door," he says, he watches you flop down on his bed after shutting his door, "so what's wrong?"

"Okay well Seungmin is setting me up with one of his friends and I d'know - I'm just really awkward, I don't know how to talk to guys, like at all, and I d'know what to do," you confess to the blonde freckled boy who is swivelling around in his gaming chair that you bought him for Christmas, his right leg bouncing up and down.

"You're good at talking to me, how different can another guy be?"

"Pixie, you know it's different," you huff, sitting up, "please, I just need your help."

"Maybe you should go to Chan, or maybe Minho, I think they could help you more," Felix tells you, "but I think you should just y'know, be yourself, you're pretty and you've got a good personality and any guy worth anything is gonna see that."

"But w-what ab-about s-" you pause, hiding your face in your hands,"sex."

"What about it?"

"Well I haven't y'know?"

"Trust me, that much is obvious," Felix teases, "but really, most guys don't care much about virginity, some guys even find it hot when girls are still virgins, they get off on the fact that they're a girl's first," he informs you, you're hands moving away from your face, staring at him, "I know you may think that's weird, but it's the truth."

"But I don't know what to do."

"That's fine, some guys also find that hot, like with blowjobs you just need to make sure you take it slow at first, get used to it, then after that speed up, and don't be afraid to take deep breaths and breaks. And as far as sex goes the guy is mostly the one doing the work, you just lay back and relax," Felix explains, "unless you're riding him, but I wouldn't recommend doing that during your first time. Sex isn't that scary y/n, just think of it as two people just wanting to help the other feel good."

"T-thank you Lix," you smile at the boy, "t-that helped me feel a bit better."

"Anytime," he smiles that pretty smile of his, "oh, later do you want to get dinner with Jeongin and me?"

"Oh, no thanks, Minho is making me dinner tonight," you smile, you stand up from his bed and walk to the door, "thank you Lix, I owe you."

"Don't mention it," Lix smiles, refocusing on his monitor.

You were going to lose your virginity, you were dead set on it. And that was truly terrifying, but you tried to ignore that feeling of fear that pooled in your abdomen. It was just sex. At least that's what Felix said.

"Hi hi," Minho greets you when you walk into the kitchen, he was standing over a pot of water on the stove waiting for it to boil.

"Hi Min," you hum, taking a seat on the couch, "so what are you making? Do you need any help?"

"We have the rule to not let you in the kitchen for a reason, but thank you for the thought, I'm making your favorite," he says it like it isn't a truly heart warming gesture.

"Thank you Minho," you thank him.

"Mhm," he simply hums, refocusing on the stove, "so what was your day like? Do anything interesting?"

The words leave your mouth before you can even register what you're saying, "virginity."

This makes Minho's face turn to look at you, his eyebrows knit together with a look of utter confusion, "virginity?" he questions.

You hide your face in your hands, a rosy blush on your face, "y-yeah," you squeak, "I-I'm going to lose my virginity," you confess.

"Like today?"

"W-well no, but someday soon," you inform him, "I-I'm going to lose my virginity."

That was not okay for Minho, not at all, but you couldn't know that, you sounded scared enough. And that was when Minho got the best worst idea he has ever had. You could lose your virginity to him.

"Who is going to take your virginity?" he asks.

"Well I haven't exactly worked t-that part out yet," you confide, "but to someone, someone soon."

"It should be someone you trust," Minho advises you, "it shouldn't just be a random hookup, maybe it should be a friend, someone you already know, in a no strings attached kind of way."

"Maybe you're right," you ponder for a moment before shooting your head up, "do you think Felix would have sex with me?"

Minho can't help but choke on pure air, doubling over, "e-excuse me?"

"Minho! I'm being serious!" you whine, "Felix is my best friend an-and I trust him!"

Minho eventually regains his composure, "you shouldn't fuck your best friend, that always ends up messy."

"You're right," you agree, another idea coming to your mind, "I should ask Chan if he'll have sex with me."

"That's also a terrible idea, did you forget that he's already seeing someone?"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot, fuck," you groan, "what should I do, because if I don't lose it to someone else, I'll end up losing it to one of Kim Seungmin's friends."

"You could just fuck me," Minho proposes.

You can't help the way your jaw practically hits the fucking floor, "wh-what? You'd do that- w-well technically me?"

"I mean yeah, you're my friend, and I just want what's best for you," he reassures you of his intentions, "I'll teach you everything you want to know."

"Oh, well when c-can we?" you watch as he adds the noodles to the boiling water, "you know-"

"How about tonight? If you want to, I'm in no rush, you can choose when and where," he cuts you off.

"Tonight," you affirm, "tonight."

"Okay, tonight," Minho agrees, "you decide what we're doing."

"I want you to decide," you confess, "I just want this to be nice and y'know intimate?"

"Okay," Minho hums, moving to strain the water after the noodles had boiled for their needed time.

Minho eats with you, and cleans up the mess afterwards, you were on edge the whole time, not knowing what to do or what to expect. Practically vibrating with nerves and excitement all mixed into one.

"Y/n," Minho calls out to you.

You practically jump out of your chair, looking up at the man, "listen, you need to relax, let's take a shower," he proposes.

"O-okay," you agree.

You follow him into you and his shared bathroom, Felix, Jeongin, and Seungmin having their own bathroom. Minho was the first one to completely strip and that's when you saw it. His cock. That big thing was supposed to fit in you, there was no fucking way.

"Minho th-y-your cock," you gawk, if it looked this big and this intimidating like this you could only imagine what it looked like when he was actually hard.

"Don't worry," he grins, "I'll get you nice and prepped before I put it in."

His cock was nothing to joke about, big and fat with a slight curve, so meaty and girthy it was intimidating just to look at and he wasn't even hard yet.

Minho watches as you strip your clothes off, and you search his face for a reaction to your nudeness, you get one, "no wonder you have so many fanboys and fangirls," Minho grins.

He's offering you a hand, which you take, now standing under the water of the shower with him, becoming soaked from head to toe. He is quick to sink to his knees and start lapping at your cunt until you're painting his face with your cum before he's holding you still, making you give him another orgasm.

It hurts when he puts it in, you're whining and whimpering and falling apart, feeling like you're being ripped open by his fat length. He's gentle with you though, holding you delicately, kissing the back of your neck, stilling inside you and letting you adjust to his length.

"Jagi, that's only the tip," he hums, rubbing soft circles on your hips, "tell me when I can move, jagi."

It takes a few minutes before you're comfortable with him moving even more, but eventually you give him the go ahead. You're having to bite down on your tongue so you don't scream, "there you go, kitty cat, bigggg stretch," Minho coos, his hips stilling, "there now you're halfway done."

Your legs feel so wobbly like they could give out as Minho takes your virginity in the shower, "Min-daddy please move!" you gulp.

"Oh, I'm going to ruin you," Minho groans, pushing his cock in until his fat mushroom tip is pressed against your cervix, "gonna stretch you out all good and nice, no other cock is gonna fill you up quite right."

"Daddy!" you're practically screaming when he starts moving.

He's slow and delicate with you, taking his time, savoring every stroke in your tight virgin cunt. It hurt, it hurt so fucking good. You felt the ripples of pleasure shooting down your spine, the sound of skin slapping on skin being all that resonated around the shower room. "Oh my fucking God!" you yelp when his cock presses against that spongy spot inside you over and over and over again.

His cock has you seeing stars, and you're thoroughly convinced this is the best you've ever felt. No wonder people always talked about sex when it felt like this.

With every thrust of his hips he's bringing you closer and closer making you feel hotter and hotter. Your body is writhing around, he keeps a firm grasp on you, holding you still for him. "Atta girl," he hums, "you're taking my cock so well, jagi, like your little cunt was made for it."

"Daddy!" you're basically wailing, tears of pleasure streaming down your face, it just feels oh so good, you never want it to end.

When his hand wraps around your body to rub rub rub your clit you're doubling over, pleasure racking your body.

And that's when the band building up in your stomach finally snaps. Glancing down to watch the stream of clear liquid drip out of your pussy onto the tile of the shower. "Daddy!" you whimper over and over as he fucks you through your orgasm.

"That's it, jagi," Minho groans his cock slipping out of you before you feel hot ropes of his cum painting your ass followed by Minho's groans.

"Minho-" you whine.

"Oh, jagi," Minho is mumbling before he's turning you around and pulling you close to him, "I think I'll have to keep you, your cunt is just too sweet," he plants a kiss on your hairline as water from the shower hits your back.

[disneyprincemuke]

kiss all your tears away

alternatively: we haven’t talked in almost 4 days (next)

in which she and logan don't walk into the paddocks together for the first time all season and sends everyone speculating about the status of their relationship friendship

(series masterlist)

she hikes her bag up her shoulder, pushing the sunglasses up her nose. she taps her card against the reader before she can step into the paddocks.

when she'd woken up this morning, she laid in bed with two packs of ice over her eyes to try and reduce the swelling of her eye area. when she’s gotten up to look at herself in the mirror, it did depuff but didn’t entirely erase the evidence of all the crying she did.

she dropped george a text message early this morning, asking if it was okay to be wearing sunglasses everywhere on the paddocks without looking like a complete fool — it’s just a rehearsal, after all.

george simply assumed she’s hungover or something of the sort, so he didn’t ask questions. he just told her he does it all the time.

so, here she is walking into the paddocks by herself. with her stupid bag on her stupid shoulder and a pair of sunglasses over her eyes to hide away from everyone.

oscar, who comes in right after her, almost walks right past her before he realised who she is. he just almost barely recognises her entering the paddocks with a bag on her shoulder and logan next to her.

oscar taps her on the shoulder gently, flashing her a bright smile. “alone today?”

“yeah,” she answers simply, a smile of gratitude stretching her lips when oscar slows his pace down to walk with her.

“oh,” oscar nods to himself. while he’s been slightly out of touch with her out of respect of their relationship, he still did grow up with her. he still knows her telltales when she’s got a problem. “fought?”

“yeah.”

“that bad?”

“pretty bad.”

“i won’t ask about it. but are you okay?”

“i guess.”

“i’m sure it’ll be okay.”

“hopefully.”

“let me carry your stuff,” oscar mutters, circling around her to her other side. he doesn’t wait for an answer — he just slides her backpack off her shoulder and throws it over his shoulder on top of his bag.

she opens her mouth to protest, but oscar is quick to shut her down. “i used to do it before logan. don’t act like it’s so new to you,” oscar laughs, shaking his head. “and it’s weird seeing you with a bag in the paddocks.”

“that’s true. i haven’t walked into the paddocks with my bag on my shoulder since i joined you guys in f2,” she grins shyly.

“let’s put your stuff down then come and hang at mclaren? lily’s just got a taxi to arrive from the airport.”

“oh, she’s here this weekend? she didn’t tell me that…”

“she was going to surprise you after the rehearsal,” oscar giggles. “so, what do you say?”

“okay, but only if lando makes me a cup of coffee.”

george tilts his head at the empty seat alex has left in the corner. “move to the corner, we’re going to hog the space and be shat on for acting like boyfriends.”

“logan’s sitting with us tonight,” alex answers simply with a shrug. “can’t fully commit to being your boyfriend tonight, mate, i’m sorry.”

“oh, how come?” george asks, furrowing his eyebrows. typically, logan would sit in the middle rows with his girlfriend. “doesn’t he usually sit with (y/n) or oscar?”

alex shrugs, bottom lip pouted out. “think they had a friendly squabble a couple days ago. he’s been weird since he arrived in vegas the other day.”

george surprisingly held on to the unspoken agreement he has with them. he hasn’t told a soul about seeing her in the gap between his door that one time. nor has told alex about it.

but he does talk to lando, which wasn’t a great conversation to start when he came up to him with a 50 pound bill in his hand. they danced around the information of knowing something particularly specific, and lando eventually blurted excitedly that he saw them on a date a few days back.

so maybe they fought. or worse, have they broken up?

logan arrives literally a second after the worst thought passes his mind. he takes the empty seat next to alex, greeting george with a small smile before leaning in to start a conversation.

he watches the door, curious at what’s exactly going on. he completely tunes out from the conversation, feigning intelligent answers and short reponses. his eyes dart over to the door whenever it’s pulled open, and sighing when it’s not the driver he expects.

he looks down at his watch. there’s about 10 minutes before the briefing starts for them. and, vegas is a race that had them come in a couple days prior to be briefed and conduct a short rehearsal for the opening ceremony.

luckily, there’s not much media around today, which would make tiptoeing around this issue a whole lot easier.

when the door is pulled open again, george lifts his head quickly, as he’s genuinely quite invested now. he raises an eyebrow and is taken aback by the girl holding the door open with a pair of sunglasses resting on her nose.

he’s absolutely forgotten the fact that she had texted him this morning about this issue.

she takes a step forward, but then takes two back. instead of walking in, she stays back outside the room with the door in her hand. pierre and charles walk in, thanking her softly before returning to their conversation.

there’s a momentary pause as she looks inside, where they’re seated, before she looks at somebody who’s in the hallway with her. oscar appears, motioning for her to walk in, but she shakes her head and simply points inwards to the room.

alex has chosen to settle for the wrong seats today, obviously. having logan sit right next to the door might be a bit more detrimental than he thought. but what would alex know? he doesn’t even know of their relationship.

oscar tries to fight with her, but she simply purses her lips. the australian slumps his shoulder before sharply turning on his heel and just walking into the room, followed by a distressed looking lando.

lando looks around, catching george’s curious eyes, so the man in orange simply shrugs tiredly at him.

she beckons for someone else in the hallway to walk in, but it seems that it’s a losing fight by the way that she’s continually waving her hands in the air to persuade them.

sighing, she just visibly sighs and winds her hand back to act out a punch. she drops her hands before finally turning around to take a step forward again.

if there’s any way that she announces her arrival, it’s typically by the scent of her strong perfume. her floral scent fills his nose, and it’s obvious that logan finally takes notice of her arrival.

because logan turns around, eyes trained on her as she walks in with an orange paper cup in her hand. what’s made everything stranger is that she simply walks ahead: she doesn’t spare logan another look as she walks down the side aisle to join max, oscar and lando who unfortunately only landed the front row seats.

george watches logan’s eyebrows furrow and press his lips together. logan shifts in his seat uncomfortably before turning back to continue their conversation.

“did you catch that, mate?” alex asks, nudging george’s arm with his elbow.

“what?” george tears his eyes away from the girl in front to look at the two men next to him. “sorry, i didn’t catch what you were saying.”

“right, so basically…”

she looks up at the giant yellow circle in front of her. she momentarily lifts her sunglasses to gawk at the ever changing expressions of the emoji face being projected.

“that’s so adorable!” she points out, reaching out to roughly pat max’s shoulder to get his attention. “look, it’s looking at us!”

“hey, your hands are not as light as you think!” max scolds, his arm darting out to catch her wrist in his hands. “you’ve got to make up with logan.”

she pouts, retracting her hand roughly from the older man’s grip. she drops her sunglasses back down to her nose and folds her arms over her chest. “what do you mean? you don’t like hanging out with me?”

“i do. trust me, i have the time of my life annoying the shit out of you,” max laughs dryly down at her. “but you are all over my hater hours. gawk at this… thing,” he points at the sphere, “with your boyfriend.”

“no,” she scoffs, simply shaking her head. she huffs and tries to walk past him. “forget it — i’ll just go and find yuki and hang out with him. he doesn’t try and push me away when i try.”

max sighs, rolling his eyes. he grabs her elbow and drags her back to him. he puts her in front of him, hands on her shoulders.

max reaches out and takes off the sunglasses, clipping it to the collar of his shirt. “you’ve got to talk this whole fight out with logan. stop ignoring him.”

“i’m not ignoring him. he’s ignoring me,” she insists, throwing a hand into the air.

“no, he’s not!” max cries, pinching the bridge of his nose. honestly, he didn’t want to enjoy this race in vegas. in fact, all he’s done leading up to this grand prix has been openly hate on the thought of even being here.

he didn’t factor in that he’d have to suddenly play the part of being an older brother and a therapist to the girl standing in front of him.

he has grown to be fond of her, yes, but he very much preferred not being put in the middle of all this.

“what?”

“yeah! he was literally boring holes into you when you walked into the rehearsal briefing earlier,” max points out. “and then he only left the room after you left; after you just walked right past him again without a flinch!”

“okay, listen! if you had the fight that we had, you wouldn’t make up so easily either, okay?” she rambles, hands on her hips in frustration. her puffy eyes are finally nowhere in sight. “you don’t even know what we fought about.”

“fine, then enlighten me.”

“we fought about this,” she circles her hands around them, motioning to the track setup around them. “about all of this! formula 1! it’s caught up to us!”

max furrows his eyebrows. “what do you mean?”

“i mean like i literally had the sebastian vettel vouching for me to get a seat this season,” she sighs, shaking her head as she recalls the fight they had before flying to vegas. “i mean like i’ve been in the points consistently since i crashed in baku and he’s struggling to even be on par with alex!

“how is that my fault, max? it’s not my fault!”

“you’re right: it’s not.”

“why does it feel like it is? i hate that this is happening to him, of all people! but how is it my fault that i’m delivering and meeting everyone’s expectations of me entering the sport?”

tears rush into her eyes. she presses the bottom of her palms into her eyes as her voice cracks, shaking her head hopelessly. “like, it’s not my fault we’re performing differently. i’m literally driving for my reputation and seat — i’m on probation with my team just as much as he is.”

max suddenly regrets poking her button. from what oscar tells him, they’re not typically the couple to have very big fights. it seems that he has misread the severity of the situation.

“oh, (y/n),” max frowns, stepping forward to wrap his arms around her. he puts his hand on the back of her head, gently letting her nuzzle his face into his arm. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know.”

“it just gets increasingly difficult to comfort him weekend after weekend. i’m at a high, and he’s just-“

“i’m sure it’s not easy for him either,” max cooes, swaying side to side in an attempt to comfort her. “i am sure that it is not his intention to… make you ‘feel bad’ of what you’ve achieved thus far.”

“it’s just so hard,” she cries harder into his chest. “i want to be there for him, really. but it’s hard! it’s hard when my team is out celebrating after every race because of my points finish and he’s down with what’s happened with his race.”

max looks up at the sound of footsteps against the gravel, catching lando and george trying to make their way towards them.

he holds up a thumbs up to them, nodding gently enough for her not to feel it, to send them the other way. it’s bad enough she’s crying at the f1 track four days before a race with majority of the teams still in the paddocks.

he turns his head to the side, by the grandstands, catching oscar and sebastian’s stare of concern. he simply flashes them a smile and a reassuring nod. in return, he gets a firm nod from the race engineer and a thankful smile from the young driver.

from what he knows, she hasn’t told anyone about this issue. perhaps that’s why she’s stuck to him all evening?

“i don’t think we’ll get past this, max. that’s the worst part,” she sobs, pulling away to rub her eyes. she heaves as tears flow out of her eyes, lips quivering and voice cracking with every word she speaks. “how can we even? i don’t know what to do.”

max frowns. he pushes her head into his chest again, this time, resting his chin on the top of hers. he doesn’t exactly know what to say.

their situation is so unique, that even he — with as much trauma as he carries around — does not know anything he can say that would make her feel better. so, he just rubs circles on her back as he sways.

“i’m sorry this happened to you,” he sighs, readjusting to now press his cheek on the top of her head. “i really don’t know what to say. there wouldn’t be any words i can string together to make you feel better about this.”

from the distance, he can see alex walking out of the pitlane. the bright blue shirt didn’t really make him hard to spot in the first place.

alex is the least of his problems. because behind alex is logan trailing behind him quietly, completely taken a step away from the conversation alex holds with some of their team members.

“do you want to go somewhere more private? teams are coming out to scout the track, i think,” max whispers, moving his head to look at her face. “let’s go?”

“okay. it’s kinda weird i’m crying here anyway,” she manages to mutter a joke. “my sunglasses.”

max almost wants to laugh when she cries even harder, reaching out for the sunglasses he’s confiscated from her a while ago. she removes it from his shirt, then replaces it on her face.

while she had paraded about with her chin in the air all evening, now she walks with her head down. her hair is out of the braids that blythe had styled her with, now falling to her cheeks to hide her away from everyone else.

if max could have continued walking the other way to simply avoid the williams racing team, he would. but if he did that, they’d have made a complete round of the track on foot. which doesn’t seem like a good idea at all with her state.

max slings a protective arm around her shoulders, walking around her body to hold her away from the prying eyes of those that walk past them.

as they slowly approach the team in blue, alex grows mildly concerned at the weirdly silent girl. “is sh- oh, okay.” alex nods understandingly, holding a hand up to wave max for an apology. all because she’s heaving silently in her sob in max’s arm that immediately told alex to not intervene. “sorry.”

and max just knows they’d eventually find a way out of this fight they’re in. because he turns around to gauge logan’s expression: he’s stopped dead on the tracks with a lingering stare on the crying girl.

max just gives him a small smile, to which logan forces a grin before turning away to catch up with alex who calls out for him.

surely, there’s a way around this. right?

[gothicprep]

two things I’ve been meaning to comment on: the redlettermedia video on the death of movie theaters, and The Usual Suspects of z-rate youtube movie critics blaming furiosa’s failure at the box office for being too girlboss. I promise i’ll tie these together in a way that makes sense.

there are a lot of reasons why theaters aren’t doing great right now. the biggest one is attendance, and how it hasn’t bounced back since lockdown. this has been exacerbated by a lack of product in the marketplace, driven by the wga and sag strikes. this isn’t anti-labor union sentiment on my part. I want to be extremely clear about that. it’s not a comment on the negotiations. just an objective statement about how two large guilds striking = less movies = less butts in seats. I’m surprised the rlm guys didn’t consider this.

but there are two salient other things to bring up with what’s going on with the box office rn specifically.

one of them is that movies are still performing in the way you’d expect them to in the box office rn, relative to other seasons. furiosa is a great example of this. fury road, commercially speaking, was not a big hit. furiosa had a higher budget. and mad max movies tend to stand on their own. no further proof of this exists than most americans thinking that the road warrior was the first mm movie, because WB really shat the bed on the distribution for the original. they’re highly tethered to the anxieties of when they came out. the pre-apocalyptic nature of mad max dials in on what kept people up in the 70s. the road warrior is evocative of OPEC and middle east/oil anxieties. thunderdome confronts our 90s fears of tina turner. fury road deals in environmental collapse, right down to how the manpower in the citadel is imagined. Furiosa breaks from this format in a few ways. max not being in it is the obvious one. the other is that it’s so reliant on fury road that its end credits contain a supercut of the movie. this is unusual for a prequel, at least in its extent.

this all to say, there’s no universe where this movie made a lot of money. it was never going to happen. contrary to what some may tell you, it was never a girls get it done thing. i know furiosa was great, but you need to remember that critic and general audience reception are very different things. if you’re someone who likes to talk and write about movies, you’re in a place that’s closer to critic brain than you are general audience brain.

If you had a normal release schedule for, say, may, this would be sort of a nothingburger. but remember – marvel movies have pretty much always dominated may. marvel is in sort of a weird position rn post infinity war, and there was no marvel movie to come out in may.

the second one is more related to the strikes. haulted production is a temporary hiccup. within a year, things should normalize a little. think of it like the recovery period after a surgery. something is wrong. you get it fixed. but there’s a time period after that where you can’t do much of anything. in the end, you come out healthy. your strength may be diminished, but you move on. we’re in the recovery period rn. perhaps theaters are a dying business, and this is one of those situations where you carry on but are a bit weaker. but it’s recovery. not death.

ah well, those are just my thoughts on it.

[kitthepurplepotato]

Shenanigans Part 8

Alternative Universe Part 3/3

New to the story? Start with Chapter 1!

Part 6-7-8 can be read without knowing the whole story, if you want to give it a go, click here!

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Part 8: The Menace and the case of the pajama party in the alternative universe. ( + extra Tododeku!)

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Warnings: swear words, drunk people (everyone is 25+ and responsible), drunk crying

Summary: Bakugou Katsuki might not have feelings when he’s sober, but he’s really weak to wine and champagne - with that said, get ready to an overly sensitive, fluffy Bakugou from the alternative universe.

Meanwhile, in the real world, the grumpy Bakugou Katsuki suffers - he can’t seem to understand his confusing feelings towards his biggest “enemy”.

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Meanwhile in the real world…

“Go to sleep, Kacchan.”

Honestly, the fuck is the nerd’s problem? Katsuki is on the couch. His eyes are closed. What the fuck else can he do?

“I would like to sleep, but your stupid fucking freckled face is distracting even with my eyes closed.” Katsuki snaps, his movements aggressive as he slaps his duvet around a bit for greater comfort.

Why is he on a random ass couch instead of his bedroom?

Because those two fuckers didn’t let him go home alone. Not even the mention of his poor starving pigeons made them change their mind. Sadistic assholes.

“Izuku’s freckled face has nothing to do with you hyperventilating on the couch.” Todoroki sighs. “She’s fine, Bakugou. She’s probably having a pajama party with a less mental version of you right now.”

Was that supposed to make him calm? And anyway… “Why the fuck are you here, Candy Cane?”

“I’m here to make sure you don’t strangle Izuku in his sleep.” Comes the easy answer, and to be fair, he might do that if he gets sleep deprived enough.

“Go and share a bed with him him, just in case.” He grumbles back and closes his eyes again, hoping to have least 3 hours of sleep tonight, just to have some energy to scream Y/N’s face off properly when she dares to come back. That’s all.

“Good idea, thank you!” Perks up the half and half idiot, making Izuku squeak like a 10 year old virgin. Fucking idiot.

“I wish to sleep a-alone, thank you v-very much.” He stutters and leaves the living room; Todoroki goes after him like a kicked puppy who does not understand their owner’s anger, even tho they just shat on their carpet 5 minutes ago.

After a few minutes of loud commotion in Deku’s bedroom - the nerd is probably telling that dick off for not understanding human communication again - the flat falls silent; but Bakugou’s thoughts are still too loud to be able to sleep.

“Fuck this shit.” He grumbles and takes his phone out to type out a message.

The fact, that the message was sent at 3:30 AM does not matter. He’s just not tired yet.

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The pajama party is more like an interrogation on crack. You are attacked with questions from every side, barely able to answer them all, but all your anxiety flew away the moment Todoroki popped open his secret drink fridge filled with all the fancy alcohol he stole from his idiot father’s old liquor cabinet. “Well, it’s his fault he left them in my mom’s house. He’s not gonna come back for it.” He said nonchalantly, when seeing your massive saucer eyes when he popped open a super expensive champagne that costs more than your monthly wage.

You tell the guys about the world of quirks; you try to keep it simple and not too revealing, but Deku is about to pop a vein as his question wasn’t answered before, so you have to do something before the guy gets brain damaged.

They tell you all their funny stories from America, about their dreams and plans for the future; they are so pure and so lively, they make your heart melt. You also try your best to tell them about their current life in your world; you can’t really tell them much about Deku and Todoroki but the more you drink, the more you ramble about your annoying boss, about how much you hate his guts, about his daily assholery; by the end of the day you end up with your head on the dumbstruck blonde’s shoulder next to you.

By 3 AM, Deku and Todoroki are passed out on the massive bed in the funniest position ever; they literally fell asleep on top of each other, their bodies making a cross sign on the bed. Deku’s body is spread through Todoroki’s lap like a cat, his head hanging down from the side of the bed. It definitely doesn’t look comfortable, but they look content so you decide against waking them up.

The blonde next to you is also half asleep, but he looks kinda melancholic. To be fair, he did stop responding to your ramblings after a while, but you were too drunk to care.

“I’m sorry for talking shit about your other self.” You apologize as you make your way to the makeshift bed on the floor. “He’s really not that bad. He can be really caring, you know?”

“No, I don’t know.” He snaps, then suddenly, he’s really interested in his own bedding by the way he stares at it. You swear his eyes look a little bit wet, but you might be hallucinating. “I’m sorry, it’s just…”

He’s crying. Motherfucking murder whatever god Dynamight is fucking crying.

You definitely drank way too much. This can’t be real. “I’m frustrated, goddamit!” He cries out loudly, waking the other two up with his sudden hysterics. “There is this beautiful, intelligent, caring lady in that fucker’s life who tolerates him even though he doesn’t deserve it at all and he’s being an absolute ass about it.” He continues, silent tears falling on his red cheeks. “He has everything I always wanted yet he doesn’t give a shit about it, and that frustrates me.” He ends his rant while he covers himself with his duvet aggressively. You are not sure if you want to cry over the touching words or laugh at how adorable he is so you just end up staring at him from the other side of room where your bedding is.

“He’s a sensitive drunk, bless his little heart.” Mumbles the greenette and taps Bakugou’s head with his hanging hand. He passes out again right after.

“If I would be in his place…” he mumbles, still hidden under his duvet. “Actually… I will go to your fucking country and I won’t leave until I found you. I will make sure you are the happiest fucking woman in this world, I’ll force you to come with me to Japan if I need to. That’s what I’m gonna do. Yeah.”

The room falls silent. You are definitely crying now. Who is this man and how is he related to Bakugou Katsuki? You really want to get married to this random stranger in a random creepy chapel in the middle of the night.

“I’ll give you all my possible addresses then.” You murmur into your pillow with a smile on your face; it’s really silly to be jealous of your own self, but you can’t help it. You are really sad you won’t be able to see these people again; this weird trio made their way into your heart in less than 24 hours and to be absolutely honest with yourself, you really don’t want to go back to the real world.

You slowly drift off to slumberland in this safe and peaceful room, dreaming about a better world and a better life.

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Meanwhile in the real world…

Mr. Katsuki did NOT sleep last night.

Why, you ask?

Because sleep is for the weak.

No, it has nothing to do with the fact that his secretary is in another world, sad and lonely, probably frightened to death in the middle of night, sleeping on the street somewhere, freezing and hungry.

Mr. Katsuki does NOT care about the Menace.

He’s also not tired.

The bags under his eyes? They are Gucci. It’s a fashion choice. They make him look rough and manly, as Kirishima would say. They also help shutting up the extras, as they are too terrified to talk to him.

Everything is fine.

“Katsuki.” The half and half fuckface sighs. The fuck is his problem?! He haven’t said a single word. He’s calm and collected. “You’ve been staring at the concrete for 2 hours now. We still have a few more minutes.”

“I’m just making sure no one steps on the spot.” Mr. Katsuki answers, looking all professional. This is just another job on the field. No biggie. He’s just doing a good job.

“Kacchan, you made sure no one steps on that spot 2 hours ago.” Deku opens his mouth and Mr.Katsuki does not understand the problem here. Yes, he drew a big circle around the area saying “If you step here, you die.” But there might be someone around who’s visibly impaired, or just dumb in general. Or a foreigner who does not understand the world DIE! DIE! DIE! Written all over the area. Maybe, the message is not clear. You never know.

“Fuck off and let me do my job!” Mr. Katsuki snaps, his eyes still focused on the concrete in front him. He could probably remember every single crack on this concrete piece by now even without looking at it.

A few minutes later, something suddenly falls from the sky; Mr. Katsuki is too focused on the concrete to see it coming, hence why, the Menace arrives with a big thump.

Mr. Katsuki almost throws up from the way his heart suddenly drops for a second… wait, no. The only reason Mr. Katsuki feels sick is the smell of alcohol coming from the ground.

“I will never drink again.” Mumbles the idiot while rubbing her stupid forehead. And Mr. Katsuki looses his shit.

“You fucking asshole!” He screams, making the hungover Menace flinch. “I thought you fucking died!” He screams even louder. “Yet here you are, fucking hungover, while I couldn’t fucking sleep because of you!”

Y/N’s phone suddenly beeps, so she takes a look at it, giving Katsuki a questioning glance.

“By the message you sent me at 3:30 AM, you slept really well last night?” She dares to say, and also, she dares to continue. “Oh, and your other self is so much nicer than you are. Quite a bummer, really. I kinda wanted to date the guy.”

Mr. Katsuki does not get flustered. The only reason his face is red as a tomato is the hot weather. It has nothing to do with the indication of Y/N willing to date him. It’s not him anyway, technically. Plus, he would never date this terrible, smelly woman. Never. He has no intentions of waking up next to this menace everyday, moan about the stupid pigeons while trying to untangle their limbs from each other, he definitely has no intentions of making breakfast every morning to make sure the Menace actually eats proper food and not just rice with fucking broccoli - just because the food is plain, doesn’t mean it’s nutritious.

… wait.

You are misunderstanding. He definitely DID NOT think about this before. His self-deprived brain is just a bit to imaginative, that’s all.

Let’s take a deep breath and step back for a bit. Let’s think about this situation.

The Menace is clearly hungover if not fucking drunk, still.

The Menace just confessed that she met his other self.

That means…

“You got drunk with me in an alternative universe?!” Mr. Katsuki snaps again, glaring at the floor incredulously.

“No, I got drunk with you, Deku and Todoroki. Also, you are really sensitive and super cuddly when you drink. It’s adorable.” The menace GIGGLES, hiding her stupid face behind her stupid hands, looking like a lovesick teenager.

Cuddly?!

Adorable?!

“You did not fucking cuddle me. You did not!”

Dynamight can not take this shit anymore. He explodes. Literally. For the next few minutes, all you can hear is swear words and death threats coming from the hero, his palm making explosions from left to right.

(…And you didn’t even mention the cute selfie you have on your phone with the three of them yet; you can only hope the picture is still available in this world, because fuck if you you won’t frame that shit and put it on your living room shelf.)

“It’s Shouto’s fault! His father has a liquor cabinet!” She tries to save herself self while throwing the other one under the bus. Todoroki doesn’t get offended, just stays silent for a while and nods.

“My father indeed had a liquor cabinet, but I never opened it before. Does it have good stuff in it?” He asks innocently, but his gaze is nothing but mischievous.

“Shou…” Midoriya facepalms, but says nothing else. He’s just done.

“The best stuff, mate. Mind sharing in the future?” Y/N winks, and for the first time in Shouto’s life, he grins at a “stranger”.

Mr. Katsuki doesn’t comment, he just explodes again.

Literally.

💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥 ~💥

Extra:

(not a part of the main story, feel free to skip if it’s not your cup of tea)

Warnings: Closeted gays, Tododeku, talking about sex (only vaguely)

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“You wanted to see us, Y/N?”

Yes, you wanted to see these two. Why? Because you are a fucking fujoshi. That’s why.

“Shouto, Deku. Please, sit down.” You point at the sofa, making the two bulky heroes shuffle awkwardly. “Today, we will talk about love, romance and sexual attraction.”

As you finish your sentence, the two heroes get extremely uncomfortable, shuffling a bit more to stay as far away from each other as they can. They literally behave like two teenagers who just got caught making out. It’s actually quite hilarious.

“I’m… not sure why is this important, miss Y/N, b-but to be honest, I ne-never had the time to think about my… preferences? I’m married to my job, I guess?” Stutters the green haired hero, awkwardly ruffling his own curls to keep himself grounded. Adorable.

“I am more than content with my current life. I do not need romance to be happy and satisfied.” Deadpans the half and half hero, and that’s actually what you wanted to hear; because now, you can ask your question without beating around the bush too much.

“Does Deku has something to do with your current satisfaction?”

If he dares to answer with a lie…

“Yes.” He deadpans again, making the greenette next to him blush like a high schooler.

“Deku?”

“I… I don’t think there is anyone who would be able to understand my work on the long run, as I barely have a day off, and I also couldn’t find anyone who would tolerate my rambling for long enough to like me that way.” He sighs, trying his best to not make an eye contact with anyone in the office.

“I like your ramblings.” Shouto steps in, not really understanding the problem here. This guy really can’t read the room. “I also work with you, so I understand your line of work perfectly.”

“Shouto, we are talking about love and romance.” Deku whines, clearly done with his best friend’s bluntness. “You wouldn’t have sex with me, would you?”

“I never thought about this option before.” Todoroki touches his non-existent beard, clearly deep in thought. “Is it allowed to romance your best friend?”

“Shou!!” Deku takes one of the pillows from the sofa and hides his face in it; his body lit up as OFA intensely crackles around his muscles from the embarrassment.

“You can date your best friend, yes. Now leave. And talk about it. My work here is done.”

As the two heroes leave the office, you look at the blonde hiding behind his massive desk next to you; the two were too busy to realize he’s here, and you decided not to make a comment about it either. It was more fun this way.

“They will fuck tonight.” He says while looking at you with a mischievous smirk on his amused face.

“They probably won’t, but they will get together, for sure.” You smirk back, your hand in the air, waiting for a high five, which never comes.

“You have a long way before you can get a high five from me, you fucking drunkard.”

Oh, well.

At least you officially made two couples since you started in this office.

That’s enough of an achievement for the day.

“I really want to drink with you again, Mr. Dynamight.” You sigh into the distance, mumbling to yourself.

“You wish!” The blonde snaps, his blushing face hidden behind his hands as he looks away; as Mr. Dynamight said, you are a long way from getting drinking privileges with the hero, but never say never; If that adorable blush is anything to go by, you are not that far away from it as Bakugou thinks.

… next chapter!

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The alternative universe story ENDS HERE, the main story will be continued!

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End note: We are slowly getting into the romance territory here! I actually came up with quite a few ideas in the last few days! Don’t worry, it’s still going to be funny. If you think these two can do anything in a non-comedic way, you read this story the wrong way, mate.

Also thank you for those who only read the last 3 chapters; I hope you enjoyed them! Feel free to stay around for the rest of the story! The taglist is still open for everyone! 💥

If there is anything you want to see in this story, feel free to message me with your ideas! 💜

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Taglist: @ibkg @chuugarettes @lilmaimai @nonomesupposedto @sozainturpal @luleck @notplutos

[lastweeksshirttonight]

We're back with Strike Force Five episode two, which seems to have randomly dropped at some point after I went to bed on Saturday. I enjoy when podcasts just randomly drop episodes, honestly, makes the whole thing feel more authentically chaotic.

I started listening to this while trying to figure out how to draft for fantasy football. I am not a football fan. I don't follow football. I don't know how to do fantasy. I very much procrastinated on that by doing these notes. My team is graded C- by Yahoo btw, which is two full grades higher than I expected.

Notes under the cut y'all.

This episode opens with Fallon talking about how he forgot his show's shirts glow in the dark. Apparently Billy Crystal tried to sleep in one recently and discovered this; John also noted a time when he was trying to get his infant son to sleep while wearing one of Fallon's shirts and saying it glowed "too well".

The audience for this podcast is obviously 30-something office drones like me. I say this because Atlassian is now running ads during the podcast. They must sense that everyone listening to this has it open in tab one while having their task-overrun Jira boards open in tabs two through five. John also completely "ruins" this ad - which was very on the rails for a decent amount of time! - by suggesting that Atlassian sounds like "one of those plans G. Gordon Liddy had to relect Nixon". Fallon also claims Atlassian is the name of his Fortnite character. (I wonder how my boss feels about both of those lol)

Everyone opens by briefly talking about how many staff they have. Stephen has 210, Kimmel has about 180 + 13 writers + a bunch of crew, Fallon thinks he has 305, and John jokingly says he has 500 people before admitting he misses his legal and research staff. He's ready to say things he thinks are true, instead of "things that are legally defensible".

Stephen: "Would you guys be okay if I had a little Casamigos, I got a bottle right here...?" John: "It's 7:30 in the morning, why not?" Seth: "That's like a 24 ounce 7-11 cup..." I'm so glad this is all in an auditory medium.

John is going to continue shitting on whatever alcohol company he shat on last week, and called it "pond water". I am guessing it's somehow related to Bud Light but that doesn't really track with tequila advertising, so who knows. I have in a past life had Bud Light Margarita in a Bag once, maybe John also suffered that unique hell.

If it IS Bud Light John is talking about, I have no idea how Stephen talking about Budweiser wanting him to be the voice for a Budweiser energy drink/caffeinated beer called B to the E/B 2 the E didn't get cut. This was in about 2001-2002, so well before Four Loko, and the ad copy contained things like "your friends are heading home AND YOU'RE JUST GETTING STARTED!" (John is quietly dying in the background the entire fucking time before Googling if it ever came out. It did! Fallon is flatly like "that's illegal" in a completely baffled tone early on.)

We are 8 minutes into an hour-long podcast. Just informing you, in case you were wondering. Why yes I am obsessed/bad at football why do you ask

Kimmel insists that his early seasons - "for the first eight to eleven years" - were the worst of anyone's on the podcast. He said this after talking about, on his show, Mr. T and Jim Belushi hating each other and almost about to fight each other, his cousin doing pillow-fights early on and causing a catastrophe one episode by fighting Lennox Lewis culminating with Anna Nicole Smith falling into a cake, and another pillow fight with Tom Arnold ruining his suede jacket. I forget that Kimmel is partially of the Jerry Springer era, if not on his late-night show then from his other work, and this just really reminded me of that.

Mariah Carey wanted to be interviewed by Seth Meyers during Christmas in a functional sleigh. John tells a story about watching Watch What Happens Live where Andy Cohen, on live TV by himself, said that Mariah Carey was in the building but would not sit on the side where guests usually sit on his show and was desperately trying to fill time. Mariah seems fun.

If I had to imagine Hell for Stephen Colbert, it would be "having to fill in for a guest on The Daily Show and turning down an advanced screening of The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring". That scenario seems tailor-made to completely destroy him.

I'm glad I remember that Ben and Jerry bit Stephen and Fallon are talking about. I would love to know what this whole explanation sounds like to someone who does not remember the whole "best friends" late night "wars" of the time. Here's the bit btw. (Your daily reminder that the CC website sucks ass.)

I forgot Fallon started his show two weeks before Seth. I must have completely blanked out how quickly all of those hosts changed in 2014 (and then John starting the same year).

I'm with John on this one, "Allen key" makes waaaaaay more sense than "Allen wrench". It's a fucking key! The amount of shit I've had to put together with those goddamn things, it's not a wrench at ALL.

One thing I learned today: chairs are very serious business for most of the hosts. Fallon keeps a chair backstage to see how someone will look in chairs on the set, and to confirm that's okay with the guests. Seth, meanwhile, had chairs that John feel like he was being interviewed to be on Seth's show. And Stephen has all different sizes of chairs, to make everyone feel comfortable when they're on the show. (This is where things go predictably off the rails, as Seth then claims he has chairs that get smaller and smaller to keep guests on their toes.)

John's guest are was the most expensive part of his set, and they never used it. Somehow that doesn't surprise me. I was shocked they have a guest booker, though. (Stephen: "Wow what a cushy gig!")

Kimmel's live show ceased being live when Thomas Jane said "fuck" nineteen times on air and affiliates/censors were mad. Apparently on network you CAN technically say anything past ten p.m., according to Kimmel, but that's not the reality of the situation.

Seth: "People forget about the early 2000s. If you were a sports fan, you would often say, 'I wonder who won the big game... let's watch the Kimmel monologue.'" This is exactly what the 2000s were like, kids.

Seth and Fallon both were told by SNL showrunner Lorne Michaels that it would take them 18 months to get comfortable with their shows and figure out how to use them. Seth definitely felt that was wrong and he'd only take 6 months... but the first time he started the show from behind his desk was almost 18 months to the day from his first episode.

Stephen has an unaired 3-minute opening credits sequence that he wants to show on his last episode if possible. John also had a longer title sequence that he loved, but that his producer said he'd be constantly going over for time and he'd need to cut it down, lest he get continually furious over not having enough time for his actual show.

Fallon talks about how his first interview was with notoriously reticent and quiet Robert DeNiro, who gave Fallon one-word answers for literally everything. John asks if anyone told him he was starting from a high difficulty degree, but is interrupted by Stephen remembering a Space Train sketch in the middle of Fallon's interview featuring DeNiro.

Stephen remembers more about Fallon's show than Fallon does, which is wild. Stephen probably remembers more about everyone's show than they do, based on the first two episodes.

Stephen calling The Colbert Report "a totally different beast and maybe doesn't even fit in this conversation" made me sad. Tell me all the Report gossip!!!

Stephen telling the story of how he made the Public Access Show for Monroe, Michigan prior to doing late night is incredible. I remember watching him and Eminem do that show the day the internet became aware of it, and it is just a fascinating bit of transitional Colbert work. Also, had no idea they took over a real show... or that they got almost 0 viewers for it, lol. Here's the link to the bit, for your viewing pleasure:

Fallon must realize that John has said literally nothing for a while, because he asks how the first episode of Last Week Tonight went. John actually talks about hosting The Daily Show for three months. He says he'd never interviewed anyone before then (I'm guessing he means that as in "I've never interviewed someone seriously and with the eye of not taking the piss out of them", because he'd done MANY filmed interviews for correspondent pieces before then) and talks about the episode where the power was cut. They taped the episode on a camcorder and had to feed it to Comedy Central through Stephen's office.

Stephen then talks about how his first episode almost doesn't make it to air because it couldn't be exported from Avid. Everyone in the editing bay insists this is fine, and it did end up being fine, but the contrast between how CBS editing works and John having to go to another office to feed a show to Comedy Central is so interesting.

Stephen also kicked down a door after this. Please enjoy this mental image, you freaks.

John and Stephen sharing a bitter laugh over John's joke about Les Moonves in the background is fantastic.

John is the first person to bring up that Ryan Reynolds turned around Wrexham the team AND the city. I really should watch that show.

We now return to Last Week Tonight, which lawyers refused to allow to be live. (Knowing John's comedic sensibilities, I completely understand Legal's stance.) He acknowledges that they had too many ideas going together in the first episodes, including a pre-taped guest. The big thing they learned was that they were doing one show a week, which lead to research coming in throughout the week that undermined their segments, rewriting whole shows on Thursday, and the realization that doing the show that way was completely unsustainable. Having watched those early episodes recently (and I promise I'm still doing that in the background), this context totally explains the franticness and weird pacing early on. Of course things feel more didactic and surface level - they were writing full episodes in two days! The show completely restaffed and changed after year one, and John's "bones were as hollow as a sparrow". He also knew that anyone who didn't like episode one was going to hate episode two, because it was about the death penalty.

Seth's first guests were Amy Poehler and Joe Biden, because they'd been on Parks and Rec together and Biden gladly accepted being after Amy.

Seth's misplaced confidence in his pink eye sketch is very relatable.

Fallon texting everyone that he is basically dying of heat stroke in his room and is trying to leave to save himself is hilarious. Poor Jimmy, he's suffering and getting clowned so hard for it. AND THEN Stephen talks about the opening of Fallon's first episode and all the change he dumped on his desk and him. And Fallon had to run up to the roof with change falling out of his clothes. Again, all this while Fallon is having a heat episode. As John says, "we should rename this 'Asphyxiating Jimmy Fallon'."

Fallon is also vaguely losing his mind and forgets he can talk on a podcast, because he keeps texting the others his thoughts.

They actually address the hosting schedule! Next episode, Stephen is hosting. After that, it's John (I'm excited for the inevitable LMFAO retrospective and/or extensive discussion of penii on rooves), then "James Theodore Fallon".

Thank you for reading this ABSOLUTELY MASSIVE BLOCK OF TEXT I'm so sorry that this is apparently my niche right now, thousands of words on a 45 min to 1 hr podcast featuring five white guys. One day the John pictures will again outnumber my blatherings, I promise.

[pardonmydelays]

fave lyrics from "the election of 1800"?

it's such a bittersweet feeling, i can't believe that we got so far... shit. let's go then:

every action has an equal, opposite reaction, john adams shat the bed... i love the guy, but he's in traction - bahhahaha i love this one

talk less, smile more, don't let them know what you're against or what you're for, shake hands with him, charm her, it's eighteen hundred, ladies, tell your husbands: vote for burr! - idk i just love this so much burr is so damn funny

the people are asking to hear my voice, for the country is facing a difficult choice, & if you were to ask me who i'd promote, jefferson has my vote... i have never agreed with jefferson once, we have fought on like seventy-five different fronts, but when all is said & all is done, jefferson has beliefs, burr has none - this might be my favourite moment in the entire song SLAY SLAY SLAY

bonus: idk, this just made me laugh, it's about the line "if you were to ask me who i'd promote...":

[fartquen12]

(IM BACK) yandere greedler x female reader.

HEY GUYZ IM BACK AFTER A FEW MONTHS.... HOPE YALL MISSED ME UWU.... JUST.. ENJOY THIS BEAUTIFUL PIECE OF FART

TRIGGER WARNINGS: onceler being MY version of onceler, Major character death, mentions of rape/non-con, Farts, poop, dookie,eating disorders, bulimia, body dysmorphia (vice versa jhonnythin style yk what i mean) will defenitly offend you if your a mini kyle or mini ravi.

You were here... you finally made it to the shitty place with all the trees you couldnt stop laughing at how hobo this town was... You were.. happy i guess when you saw this weird GUY.. uh wtf.. you thought to your self.

you walked over to him who was fighting this little orange guy..

“No shutu-”

“AHEM.. WHO ARE YOU?”

The fatass dude stared at you for a long time before making a run for it to his shitty houuse...

“um..” you said

“BRO WHO THE FUCK ARE YOY?” the lorax asked..

you just ran to your house.. that was real. And went to bed.

your was awoken by this weird sound... *scratch* you look over and see some creep looking at you through the window.. 

“OH HELL NAH” you said as you slammed the blinds shut. You coudnt make out who that creep was.. but he continued watching you.. at night.

“GURRRR” you said as a attempted to open my laxative bottle. 

*scratch-*

“WHA- DUDAAAA!” you yelled slamming the blinds shut again.

You began making it a habit to keep the door shut and locked and the windows closed.. no matter what.

One day you were staring at yourself in the mirror while laying upside down with your head hanging off the bed. You were bored and were looking around the room. since it was 12:00pm it would be safe too go outside.. but were you gonna risk it..? no. Ever since the creep stole your laxatives while you were gone and put a fan in your bathroom you havent felt safe.. You stared at the doorframe.. when you noticed something... rather... strange. You stood up on the bed to get a better look and to be able to reach it... IT WAS A MINI CAMERA. your jaw dropped and apparently so did your asshole because in that moment a huge flow of dirhea came out of your ass in fear. you ran to the toilet and threw the camera in before shitting all over it. While you shit you thought about everything that camera saw... Every time you scratched your butt.. every time you twerked.. every time you replayed that one abigail blyg and nick furcillo edit... AND THAT ONE TIME YOU CRIED TO “taco farts by mr farts and the band” WTFFF.

You began to cry. as you ran to your bed and slept all day. You woke up at 2:00am to check your house for any other cameras..

*scratch scratch*

“NO! NOOO!.. Listen.. please dont hurt me! stop stealing my laxatives and we can all be friends..”

*silence*

You sighed and ran to the bathroom and cried on the toilet as you ate takis and laxatives and shat like crazy. 

“why me!?!?!”

you began scratching your ass s you fell asleep on the toilet.

Next day you finally went out to town to get groceries.. you kept seeing this guy called the.. onceler? He was pretty nice and you felt bad for him about the whole thneed thing. it was a good idea to you but no one else like em i guess. 

“Hey! Onceler how are you?” you said attemting to make conversation.

“good.. what about you..?”

“Uhh... ive been okay..? There is this creep who keeps recording me tough i cant tell who though..?”

“heheheeee..”

“what?”

“check your bathroom... y/n” he said smiling.

You ran home as fast as possible slamming and locking your door and seeing it..

Yes. He was the “creep” you thought as you saw the camera in the bathroom you had.

“OH SICK!” you yelled before ripping it down. You heard something knock at your doorloudly and when you didnt answer..there was a knock.. at your bedroom door from inside the house.

You began to panic as you jumped and hid under the bed slamming a hand over your mouth to mask the sound of coughing from the battle with the toilet a minute ago. 

Thats when the onceler came int your room and grabbed you straight up from out under the bed and forced a mask over your face  with a gas to make you sleep. 

You woke up in a dark room. with this weird guy.. even though he had kidnapped you.. even though he had ruined your life.. and he raped you that one time... you liked him.. in a weird way. AFter weeks of treating him like a boyfriend and finding out about his factory and what not. He let you have free access to the house when he left for work. what he didnt know... is that he was going to regret that.. 

You saw his car leave and when you did you bolted for the toilet. You began throwing up last nights dinner the dinner before that the one before that and.. the one before that.

You had gotten super skinny... what you didnt know was that the onceler was coming home early.

“oh god *cough cough*” y/n said hovered over the toilet.

“I’m home! Ho-”

oh shit.

HE stared at you before running into the bathroom. you were excited for him to see you. you knew he was going to hug and kiss yo-

“GET THE FUCK OUT OFF MY WAYYYYAAA!” he yelled shoving your head away from the toilet and pulling his pants down to shit. But when you continued trying to throw up he got really mad.. with poop dripping down his legs he stood up and began to beat the everloving shit out of you. 

“DONT *smack* BOTHER *smack* ME *smack* ON *smack* THE *smack* TOILETTTT *smack smack smack*!!!” he said as he began to break every single bone in your body.. you decided to go into the light where you saw turds with halos on their heads.. Guess moving to that hobo town wasnt so funny after all..

THE END

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

ADWD: Daenerys VI (Chapter 36)

Ser Barristan wrinkled up his nose, and said, "Your Grace should not be here, breathing these black humors."

"I am the blood of the dragon," Dany reminded him. "Have you ever seen a dragon with the flux?" Viserys had oft claimed that Targaryens were untroubled by the pestilences that afflicted common men, and so far as she could tell, it was true. She could remember being cold and hungry and afraid, but never sick.

She's such a clown.

Later on we'll have to figure out whether Daenerys has the bloody flux (pale mare) or not. The above + the following,

. . . three mounts must you ride . . . one to bed and one to dread and one to love . . . - Daenerys IV, ACOK

suggests she might become infected.

Not to worry, she won't die from it or anything. Where's the fun in that?

+.+.+

Jhogo rode before her, Aggo and Rakharo just behind, long Dothraki whips in hand to keep away the sick and dying. 

Handy! Nice they got to keep those.

+.+.+

"Mother," they called to her, in the dialects of Astapor, Lys, and Old Volantis, in guttural Dothraki and the liquid syllables of Qarth, even in the Common Tongue of Westeros. "Mother, please … mother, help my sister, she is sick … give me food for my little ones … please, my old father … help him … help her … help me …"

I have no more help to give, Dany thought, despairing.

Pretty blatant mirror to Jon's trip to Mole's Town.

There's one small difference, only one is being treated like a Messiah.

+.+.+

Little children with swollen stomachs trailed after them, too weak or scared to beg. Gaunt men with sunken eyes squatted amidst sand and stones, shitting out their lives in stinking streams of brown and red. Many shat where they slept now, too feeble to crawl to the ditches she'd commanded them to dig. Two women fought over a charred bone. Nearby a boy of ten stood eating a rat. He ate one-handed, the other clutching a sharpened stick lest anyone try to wrest away his prize. Unburied dead lay everywhere. Dany saw one man sprawled in the dirt under a black cloak, but as she rode past his cloak dissolved into a thousand flies. Skeletal women sat upon the ground clutching dying infants. Their eyes followed her. Those who had the strength called out. "Mother … please, Mother … bless you, Mother …"

Well that's horrifying.

+.+.+

By the time Aggo returned with Grey Worm and fifty of the Unsullied loping behind his horse, Dany had shamed all of them into helping her. Symon Stripeback and his men were pulling the living from the dead and stacking up the corpses, while Jhogo and Rakharo and their Dothraki helped those who could still walk toward the shore to bathe and wash their clothes. Aggo stared at them as if they had all gone mad, but Grey Worm knelt beside the queen and said, "This one would be of help."

No criticism here. She feeds them and burns the dead when every one of her counselors advised against it.

+.+.+

When Daenerys returned to her pyramid, sore of limb and sick of heart, she found Missandei reading some old scroll whilst Irri and Jhiqui argued about Rakharo. 

Strange little detail.

+.+.+

"You are too skinny for him," Jhiqui was saying. "You are almost a boy. Rakharo does not bed with boys. This is known." Irri bristled back. "It is known that you are almost a cow. Rakharo does not bed with cows."

"Rakharo is blood of my blood. His life belongs to me, not you," Dany told the two of them. 

Nobody belongs to you, dipshit.

Why are you being territorial over a guy you don't care about?

+.+.+

Rakharo had grown almost half a foot during his time away from Meereen and returned with arms and legs thick with muscle and four bells in his hair. He towered over Aggo and Jhogo now, as her handmaids had both noticed. 

Unreliable narrator George R. R. Martin. The author has managed to mix up his Dothraki bloodriders.

Credit to @aegor-bamfsteel for pointing out this blunder.

Jhogo is the youth.

Jhogo edged back, his hand on his arakh. He was a youth of sixteen years, whip-thin, fearless, quick to laugh, with the faint shadow of his first mustachio on his upper lip. - Daenerys VIII, AGOT

Rakharo is already a man.

Rakharo snorted contempt through his drooping black mustachios. - Daenerys III, ACOK

I'm not sure how a mistake like this is possible when he's given them such complex characterizations.

+.+.+

"This one heard the Astapori scratching at the walls last night," the little scribe said as she was washing Dany's back.

Irri and Jhiqui exchanged a look. "No one was scratching," said Jhiqui. "Scratching … how could they scratch?"

"With their hands," said Missandei. "The bricks are old and crumbling. They are trying to claw their way into the city."

"This would take them many years," said Irri. "The walls are very thick. This is known."

"It is known," agreed Jhiqui.

"I dream of them as well." Dany took Missandei's hand. "The camp is a good half-mile from the city, my sweetling. No one was scratching at the walls."

"Your Grace knows best," said Missandei. 

The dragons are trying to claw their way out! They want to escape!

🌺 symbolism 🌺

For a moment he saw only the blackened arches of the bricks above, scorched by dragonflame. A trickle of ash caught his eye, betraying movement. Something pale, half-hidden, stirring. He's made himself a cave, the prince realized. A burrow in the brick. The foundations of the Great Pyramid of Meereen were massive and thick to support the weight of the huge structure overhead; even the interior walls were three times thicker than any castle's curtain walls. But Viserion had dug himself a hole in them with flame and claw, a hole big enough to sleep in. - The Dragontamer, ADWD

x

Rhaegal, still chained, was gnawing on the carcass of a bull. The bones on the floor of the pit were deeper than the last time she had been down here, and the walls and floors were black and grey, more ash than brick. They would not hold much longer … but behind them was only earth and stone. Can dragons tunnel through rock, like the firewyrms of old Valyria? She hoped not. - Daenerys VIII, ADWD

+.+.+

"Shall I wash your hair? It is almost time. Reznak mo Reznak and the Green Grace are coming to discuss—"

"—the wedding preparations." Dany sat up with a splash. "I had almost forgotten." Perhaps I wanted to forget. "And after them, I am to dine with Hizdahr." She sighed. "Irri, bring the green tokar, the silk one fringed with Myrish lace."

"That one is being repaired, Khaleesi. The lace was torn. The blue tokar has been cleaned."

"Blue, then. They will be just as pleased."

Should she be wearing green in the presence of Galazza Galare?

Across the pit the Graces sat in flowing robes of many colors, clustered around the austere figure of Galazza Galare, who alone amongst them wore the green. - Daenerys IX, ADWD

+.+.+

The priestess and the seneschal were happy to see her garbed in a tokar, a proper Meereenese lady for once, but what they really wanted was to strip her bare. Daenerys heard them out, incredulous. When they were done, she said, "I have no wish to give offense, but I will not present myself naked to Hizdahr's mother and sisters."

"But," said Reznak mo Reznak, blinking, "but you must, Your Worship. Before a marriage it is traditional for the women of the man's house to examine the bride's womb and, ah … her female parts. To ascertain that they are well formed and, ah …"

"… fertile," finished Galazza Galare. "An ancient ritual, Your Radiance. Three Graces shall be present to witness the examination and say the proper prayers."

"Yes," said Reznak, "and afterward there is a special cake. A women's cake, baked only for betrothals. Men are not allowed to taste it. I am told it is delicious. Magical."

And if my womb is withered and my female parts accursed, is there a special cake for that as well? "Hizdahr zo Loraq may inspect my women's parts after we are wed." Khal Drogo found no fault with them, why should he? "Let his mother and his sisters examine one another and share the special cake. I shall not be eating it. Nor shall I wash the noble Hizdahr's noble feet."

I'm torn.

I don't blame her at all for not wanting to observe these specific traditions.

On the other hand, I remember this girl enthusiastically eating a raw stallion heart and fucking Khal Drogo with an audience to immerse herself into Dothraki culture.

I won't touch this one, how about that?

+.+.+

"Magnificence, you do not understand," protested Reznak. "The washing of the feet is hallowed by tradition. It signifies that you shall be your husband's handmaid. The wedding garb is fraught with meaning too. The bride is dressed in dark red veils above a tokar of white silk, fringed with baby pearls."

The queen of the rabbits must not be wed without her floppy ears. "All those pearls will make me rattle when I walk."

"The pearls symbolize fertility. The more pearls Your Worship wears, the more healthy children she will bear."

"Why would I want a hundred children?"

That's the thing about Daenerys Targaryen,

Afterward, as Jhiqui was patting Daenerys dry, Irri approached with her tokar. Dany envied the Dothraki maids their loose sandsilk trousers and painted vests. They would be much cooler than her in her tokar, with its heavy fringe of baby pearls. "Help me wind this round myself, please. I cannot manage all these pearls by myself."

[...]

"Have my silver saddled. I would not go to my lord husband upon the backs of bearers."

"Your Grace," said Missandei, "this one is so sorry, but you cannot ride in a tokar."

The little scribe was right, as she so often was. The tokar was not a garment meant for horseback. Dany made a face. - Daenerys VII, ADWD

she's only a mother to dragons.

+.+.+

Dany turned to the Green Grace. "If we should wed by Westerosi rites …"

"The gods of Ghis would deem it no true union."

I hope the old gods reach the same verdict.

+.+.+

Galazza Galare's face was hidden behind a veil of green silk. Only her eyes showed, green and wise and sad. "In the eyes of the city you would be the noble Hizdahr's concubine, not his lawful wedded wife. Your children would be bastards. Your Worship must marry Hizdahr in the Temple of the Graces, with all the nobility of Meereen on hand to bear witness to your union."

Get the heads of all the noble houses out of their pyramids on some pretext, Daario had said. The dragon's words are fire and blood. Dany pushed the thought aside.

+.+.+

"One more small matter, Your Worship," said Reznak. "To celebrate your nuptials, it would be most fitting if you would allow the fighting pits to open once again. It would be your wedding gift to Hizdahr and to your loving people, a sign that you had embraced the ancient ways and customs of Meereen."

"And most pleasing to the gods as well," the Green Grace added in her soft and kindly voice.

A bride price paid in blood. Daenerys was weary of fighting this battle. Even Ser Barristan did not think she could win. "No ruler can make a people good," Selmy had told her. "Baelor the Blessed prayed and fasted and built the Seven as splendid a temple as any gods could wish for, yet he could not put an end to war and want."

This guy might be the worst.

How does praying, fasting, and building a new temple help anyone? You bootlicking ham.

+.+.+

Dany told him of her meeting with Reznak and the Green Grace as she was pouring wine for him. "These rituals are empty," Hizdahr declared, "just the sort of thing we must sweep aside. Meereen has been steeped in these foolish old traditions for too long." He kissed her hand and said, "Daenerys, my queen, I will gladly wash you from head to heel if that is what I must do to be your king and consort."

He does.

The Graces brought forth an ivory chair and a golden bowl. Holding her tokar daintily so as not to tread upon its fringes, Daenerys Targaryen eased herself onto the chair's plush velvet seat, and Hizdahr zo Loraq went to his knees, unlaced her sandals, and washed her feet whilst fifty eunuchs sang and ten thousand eyes looked on. He has gentle hands, she mused, as warm fragrant oils ran between her toes. If he has a gentle heart as well, I may grow fond of him in time. - Daenerys VII, ADWD

Good on him.

As far as political marriages go, Hizdahr doesn't seem half bad.

+.+.+

Hizdahr crossed his long legs. He looked pleased with himself. "Yunkai will give us peace, but for a price. The disruption of the slave trade has caused great injury throughout the civilized world. Yunkai and her allies will require an indemnity of us, to be paid in gold and gemstones."

Gold and gems were easy. "What else?"

"The Yunkai'i will resume slaving, as before. Astapor will be rebuilt, as a slave city. You will not interfere."

"The Yunkai'i resumed their slaving before I was two leagues from their city. Did I turn back? King Cleon begged me to join with him against them, and I turned a deaf ear to his pleas. I want no war with Yunkai. How many times must I say it? What promises do they require?"

Major concession, but like she points out, it's a concession she already made.

You can be anti-slavery and still acknowledge this is a necessary step if she's to achieve long-term systemic change and peace.

+.+.+

"Be that as it may, they do not trust you. The men of New Ghis feel the same. Words are wind, as you yourself have so oft said. No words of yours will secure this peace for Meereen. Your foes require deeds. They would see us wed, and they would see me crowned as king, to rule beside you."

Dany filled his wine cup again, wanting nothing so much as to pour the flagon over his head and drown his complacent smile. "Marriage or carnage. A wedding or a war. Are those my choices?"

Am I supposed to feel bad for her? Is this supposed to feel like some great sacrifice that isn't totally standard within a feudal society?

Catelyn // Lysa // Sansa // Arya // Cersei // Myrcella // Margaery // Arianne // Asha

With the exception of Lysa's second marriage, do you see a single woman here who picked her husband?

Hizdahr zo Loraq is not gay, or a drunken abusive adulterer, or a dying corpse, or a psychopath, or 450lbs, or Tyrion Lannister. I think I'll save my tears on this one.

+.+.+

"Your Grace," he said, bowing, "I am sorry to disturb you, but I thought that you would want to know at once. The Stormcrows have returned to the city, with word of the foe. The Yunkishmen are on the march, just as we had feared."

A flicker of annoyance crossed the noble face of Hizdahr zo Loraq. "The queen is at her supper. These sellswords can wait."

Ser Barristan ignored him. "I asked Lord Daario to make his report to me, as Your Grace had commanded. He laughed and said that he would write it out in his own blood if Your Grace would send your little scribe to show him how to make the letters."

Looks like you have a choice to make! Hizdahr or the sellsword.

+.+.+

"Blood?" said Dany, horrified. "Is that a jape? No. No, don't tell me, I must see him for myself." She was a young girl, and alone, and young girls can change their minds. "Convene my captains and commanders. Hizdahr, I know you will forgive me."

"Meereen must come first." Hizdahr smiled genially. "We will have other nights. A thousand nights."

"Ser Barristan will show you out." Dany hurried off, calling for her handmaids. She would not welcome her captain home in a tokar. In the end she tried a dozen gowns before she found one she liked, but she refused the crown that Jhiqui offered her.

Yeah, thought so.

You are either a young girl or a queen. You don't get to be both.

+.+.+

"You're hurt," she gasped.

"This?" Daario touched his temple. "A crossbowman tried to put a quarrel through my eye, but I outrode it. I was hurrying home to my queen, to bask in the warmth of her smile." 

Bella Bergolts

+.+.+

"This blood is not mine. One of my serjeants said we should go over to the Yunkai'i, so I reached down his throat and pulled his heart out. I meant to bring it to you as a gift for my silver queen, but four of the Cats cut me off and came snarling and spitting after me. One almost caught me, so I threw the heart into his face."

I don't believe this story.

+.+.+

"Very gallant," said Ser Barristan, in a tone that suggested it was anything but, "but do you have tidings for Her Grace?"

"Hard tidings, Ser Grandfather. Astapor is gone, and the slavers are coming north in strength."

Is she going to let that slide?

+.+.+

"More turncloaks?"

"More brave men drawn to your noble cause. My queen will like them. One is an axeman from the Basilisk Isles, a brute, bigger than Belwas. You should see him. Some Westerosi too, a score or more. Deserters from the Windblown, unhappy with the Yunkai'i. They'll make good Stormcrows."

It's Quentyn!

Is that big brute with an axe supposed to remind me of Victarion?

+.+.+

Ser Barristan frowned at Daario. "Captain, you made mention of four free companies. We know of only three. The Windblown, the Long Lances, and the Company of the Cat."

"Ser Grandfather knows how to count. The Second Sons have gone over to the Yunkai'i." Daario turned his head and spat. "That's for Brown Ben Plumm. When next I see his ugly face I will open him from throat to groin and rip out his black heart."

Dany tried to speak and found no words. She remembered Ben's face the last time she had seen it. It was a warm face, a face I trusted. Dark skin and white hair, the broken nose, the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. Even the dragons had been fond of old Brown Ben, who liked to boast that he had a drop of dragon blood himself. Three treasons will you know. Once for gold and once for blood and once for love. Was Plumm the third treason, or the second? And what did that make Ser Jorah, her gruff old bear? Would she never have a friend that she could trust? What good are prophecies if you cannot make sense of them? If I marry Hizdahr before the sun comes up, will all these armies melt away like morning dew and let me rule in peace?

I'd caution against trusting men the dragons are fond of. :)

How would Brown Ben Plumm be her treason for love? She's so bad at this, it's astounding.

Brown Ben Plumm could be her treason for gold, but let's be real - he's not.

Ser Grandfather knows how to count.

Barristan's been teleported back to Joffrey and Cersei's court. Good.

+.+.+

"Continue as we planned. Gather food, as much as you can." If I look back I am lost. "We must close the gates and put every fighting man upon the walls. No one enters, no one leaves."

The hall was quiet for a moment. The men looked at one another. Then Reznak said, "What of the Astapori?"

She wanted to scream, to gnash her teeth and tear her clothes and beat upon the floor. Instead she said, "Close the gates. Will you make me say it thrice?" They were her children, but she could not help them now. "Leave me. Daario, remain. That cut should be washed, and I have more questions for you."

I'm not sure I can criticize her for this. Abandoning the common folk is normally frowned upon, but the bloody flux complicates this.

I don't know, how do you guys feel about it?

+.+.+

"Your clothes are stained with blood," she told Daario. "Take them off."

"Only if you do the same." He kissed her.

His hair smelled of blood and smoke and horse, and his mouth was hard and hot on hers. Dany trembled in his arms. When they broke apart, she said, "I thought you would be the one to betray me. Once for blood and once for gold and once for love, the warlocks said. I thought … I never thought Brown Ben. Even my dragons seemed to trust him." 

The story's not over yet, Daenerys.

Even my dragons seemed to trust him.

Oh no, repeated. Jon? Euron?

+.+.+

She clutched her captain by the shoulders. "Promise me that you will never turn against me. I could not bear that. Promise me."

"Never, my love."

That was not a promise.

+.+.+

She believed him.

How can I question someone with such great intuition?

+.+.+

"I swore that I should wed Hizdahr zo Loraq if he gave me ninety days of peace, but now … I wanted you from the first time that I saw you, but you were a sellsword, fickle, treacherous. You boasted that you'd had a hundred women."

"A hundred?" Daario chuckled through his purple beard. "I lied, sweet queen. It was a thousand. But never once a dragon."

She raised her lips to his. "What are you waiting for?"

Fitting his beard switched to purple.

The fandom downplays how truly awful Daario is, and how damning this is to her character.

Final thoughts:

Let's assume two things.

Daenerys and Euron clash before Daenerys meets Jon.

Jon loses an eye before meeting Daenerys.

Would she not be incredibly triggered by his eyepatch? I need this.

-> return to menu <-

[mintharaa]

The post you made about Astarion being the fan fave. Have you ever considered... thats not an issue? Like ever? At all? I dont even play BG3 but after being in several fandoms where theres always been a small cluster of people that arent interested in the fan favorite and do nothing but constantly shit the bed over others all enjoying the popular characters, I just think its stupid. What do you expect as a solution - everyone forcing themselves to try and change their favorite and their blogs to please you, a complete stranger? Why would they? Do you not see the entitlement...? This isnt something like an area of scientific research getting neglected. Its fandoms on tumblr, and people enjoying something harmless. The only one who would benefit here is you and a few others that like the less popular characters - but you dont *need* to benefit. It would be nice if you did but if you dont get to, thats life. You are not entitled to a high volume of fics, artwork, posts etc that center around your fave. At all. Its not an issue that youre not getting that, creators will make what they will and people are allowed to enjoy certain aspects of a media most of all that you dont. Their fun isnt about you. It sucks for you, I do empathize that it must feel frustrating, but get over it. People dont need to change their fave and creative outputs all for your sake. And you can always commission if you feel so entitled to. But otherwise all of this stuff is free content people make primarily for themselves and those who feel the same.

Good lord what a shitty uncalled for response to one (1) meme. Let’s start from the beginning. First of all, “it’s not an issue”, do you really think the fact that the only poc character in the main cast getting almost no attention from the majority of fans is “not an issue”? You really don’t see the problem here? But like… it’s not like my post was a call to action of some sort, I hardly “shat the bed” as you so eloquently put it, it’s a meme. It’s a funny meme my guy. If you don’t find it funny that’s okay! But like you said, you don’t need to! It’s not all about you :)

And like the thing is, wyll isn’t even my favourite character. I like him a lot, I like all the characters, but he’s not my favourite. I just noticed the disparity in attention and thought, huh, that sucks, ill make a meme about it. It’s kind of incredible the extent to which you managed to miss the point of my post.

And also I… never said anyone can’t enjoy anything? Again, I hardly said anything, this is over one (1) meme. But I enjoy all the characters, you can take a look at my posts and see astarions one of my favourites, I certainly haven’t stopped enjoying content around him, why would I think anyone else should.

End of the day my meme was just a bit of fun. I do think there’s a wider issue about the treatment of black characters in fandom, but there was no malice intended towards anyone and I think people should enjoy what they enjoy, just be aware. The fact that you saw my post and read so much into it that wasn’t there and wrote me this very hostile message says a lot more about you than it does about me.

[simplyasimpformen]

Dream(xreader) HC's that plague my mind whenever I wanna sleep.

Since bro is tall as shit, he'd use you as something to lean on(if you're short af that is)

If you're tall(his height or taller) he'd definitely joke around and pretend to be intimidated by you.

I assume all of you have seen his face by now and have noticed that he almost always wears those cute lil cat beanies.

He'd definitely force- *ahem* have you wear them.

He would definitely have you model for his merch.

Bro would prolly wake you up at 3 am for pancakes.

He'd pretend to be hurt whenever you choose patches over him and show more affection towards her rather then him.

My guy would definitely take you and Drista on trips to the mall.

"get in bitch- we're going shopping"

If you have a dog, Dream would definitely offer to take it on walks and/or play with it 24/7

If you have a cat, he would arrange a lil kitty date with patches and your cat.

If you have a bird, he'd probably try to teach it how to say random shit, or how to curse.

If you have any reptilian pets, he would ask very nicely to hold it and/or pet it.

Bro doesn't fear shit.

You two would have lil game nights and spend your time together playing Minecraft, Mario kart, Mario party and other games.

If you have insomnia or struggle with falling asleep I feel like he'd stay up till he's certain you're asleep before going to bed himself.

If you sleep a lot, he would try and learn your sleep schedule and try to sleep at the same times you do and wake up when you do so that you two can spend more time together.

He is a lot like Sapnap I feel and would randomly as you to go with him to gas stations and buy snacks or sum'

You and Drista definitely team up on his ass whenever he's annoying or just for amusement.

Which includes threatening him with dirty silverware.

Busting into his room while he's streaming has become a regular thing, and to say that the chat loves you is an understatement.

Chat actually look forward to your little visits, because it always makes the streams 100% funnier.

Tommy definitely made a video named "I spoke to Dreams Lover"

You sneaked on his Minecraft acc and logged onto the SMP while Tommy was streaming, and that's how you two met ig

Tommy didn't who tf you were at first and thought you were some random ass mf who broke into Dreams house or hacked his acc

But after you explained to Tommy, he got super fucking excited and asked you dumbass questions, like if Dream ever shat the bed.

You and Sapnap would play Dreams songs in the car while he's driving and just absolutely fucking butcher the lyrics just to irritate Clay.

You were sat in the room next to his office during his Duel against Techno and comforted him when he lost.

If you have an actual job and make good money, you won't ever ask him for money, like at all, but bro still decides to spoil tf out of you.

If you don't have a job and are studying something in college or university, he would support you and help you study for exams.

If you're a streamer as well, he would definitely donate dumb af messages to you, asking you if you've ever ate sand or sum' stupid shit like that idk

After his streams he makes extra sure to always raid you if you're streaming.

Bro got mad once when you went on a Love or Host for Minx.

You and Minx are best friends(shh, don't even try and say otherwise)

You, Dream, Minx and George went on a little double date in Minecraft, which ended up just terrible.

Minx spat on George, Dream pissed himself, George fell asleep and you probably passed out due to a cocaine overdose

Anyway- that's all, idk what else to put honestly. Low-key wanna make a Schlatt one of these since I'm watching some of his old VODS rn.

[ciitrinitas]

for the ask meme: stevetony, thorki, a fate ship of your choice

AH, I DIDN'T SEE THIS UNTIL NOW.

(in response to this meme.)

steve/tony - C: Not a bad ship.

your enthusiasm for it has endeared it to me! and my god do i see where comics shippers are coming from. you all are eating there. i am most familiar with its mcu permutation, however, and i am still sad to report that i can't quite see the start of it there. a lot of the fallout lands with things like civil war, but the foundation never really sold me. i am very fond of it as sort of like a...nephew of a ship, though! i want to buy it nice gifts for the holidays and on its birthday.

thor/loki - okay, this is a slightly complicated one because my opinion varies on whether i am excluding ragnarok and endgame or not. so, i'll do them separately.

excluding ragnarok and endgame - A: I love it.

the first two thor films are nothing special, but that dynamic just works for me. thor's at his most charming as an impulsive meathead of a prince who learns to temper himself and loki's at his most loki. it's a really great combination of personalities, and the way the constipated emotions boil over in tdw still makes tdw a solid enough watch for me. i love complicated sibling relationships!

including ragnarok and endgame - F: NOTP.

my disdain for ragnarok is something you know well, amanda, so i'll restrain myself from going on a salty rant. but, in short, it dumps everything i had liked about thor's characterization and extra dumps anything enjoyable about his relationship with loki. infinity war was the least decent thor characterization in the mcu, and christ above does endgame just shit the bed it had already fucking shat. loki's back! but not in a form that retains any of his character development. : ) thor's there! but all of his grief is undercut by him being a funny fat joke. : ) there's parts of endgame that are okay, but i increasingly look back on it less fondly. i have zero interest for either thor or any ship involving him that takes cues from these films' characterizations of him.

yu meiren/prince of lanling - B: It’s really cute.

you let me have my pick, so why not go with a really odd rare pair of mine! paisen is married. she is Big Married. she is so married that she's the equivalent to a wife guy--a husband lady. and i do really think how much she loves her husband in any form, including as a four-armed mecha centaur, is incredibly sweet. but it can tend to subsume her character, so i have a slight preference for her interaction with lanling. he's the only other human she ever seemed to form a close bond with, and man, the best part of lb3 is the prologue, imo. they're incredibly cute in summer 5, too. she's just fully herself around him and comfortable even when he is like "yu meiren pls don't be trash talking humans for the fifteenth time today..." he really loves her, and he's her favorite non-xiang yu human, and it's an impossible ship, but gosh dang it, i really like their dynamic!

[reginasrandomthoughts]

Today I randomly remembered that The Last Jedi exists and had to come face to face with the realisation that i care about the wasted potential of that movie more than I thought,

Like Raylo had potebtial. Narratively speaking.

On one hand we had this guy who comes from a famous, and infamous, family who is being crushed under the weight of that family history to the point that he is losing his own identity, and he IS losing it. And on the other hand we have this girl who is desperately trying to fill the complete void that is her past. They both kind of want what the other has and it could have been a beautiful narrative exploration of the forming of identity and how to find a balance between individualism and the collective...

and then J.J. Abrams shat the bed.

Like tell me how you can fumble something that badly. It's not even the inherent elitism of making Ray into a special snowflake bc there is no way someone not from the special bloodline could ever be important, but it is that too.

It's not like I wanted a boombox serenade, kissing in the rain, fireworks going off in the background conclusion to Raylo, but I wanted them to find an equilibrium bc I thought that the conversation about how your past, or lack of, can define who you become was interesting. I wanted them, as characters, to find their own answer for how they can accept their history as a part of them but still move on to become their own person, to navigate becoming themself.

And yea, sure, I think that the possibility of both of them becoming wanderers post dealing with the First Order would have been my preferred solution. Not even necessarily together, but at least with an awareness of each other. I just wanted those crazy kids to go on a big fucking roadtrip of self discovery.

[sunlovetarot]

Twin Flame Reading

Step 1 pick a gif(moving picture if it wont load eat shit i guess)

1

2

3

1

Ya shat the bed my guy. The DM either cheated or cheated with this Lucy Steele backstabbing energy in the five of swords. Now they're running from their mistake but the DF is part of that mistake but the DF doesn't want them to run away so we got problems. Ultimately the DM is terrified of rejection. The 224 angel number provides reassurance about past mistakes. I can't say if the DF will take the DM back, but running won't solve anything. Pussy.

2

ANYBODY GOT A MAP?

This...reminds me of my wife.

The DF's intuition is blocked. They feel lost without a map of stars to guide them...because...because the DM has cut them off in some way. The DF is lost without a lifeline. Without focus. DF is no longer the Catherine Moorland the DM knew sitting contentedly with her books. I mean...their books. Um. Now...they lack the effort...the conviction to strike out on their own. They need someone who has turned his...I mean...their face away from them.

*sniffs* I'M FINE.

Keep...going...whoever you are. You will be fine in the end. Find your way back to you. Okay?

3

NOW. WE'RE. TALKING!!

INTERESTING indeed...

We got a passion play here. 523 calls for mastery of passions and guidance...the Eclipse of two souls in sync. The waltz. Ms. Eliot the jack of spades expresses caution and Ms. Lizzie Bennet on the other side of the coin was once shrouded in mystery and now is vulnerable and bare to her partner...

This is a time of discovery. Walls are cracking between the partners. The eggshell of a new age in a relationship is breaking...breaking...

Freed.