#like no fuck off. that’s sexist. genuinely to me.

[uncaught-coolfish]

rambling time but while I’m fine with emerald getting redeemed (it was gonna happen eventually) and thank fuck for ilia getting redeemed but if they redeem cinder and especially if they redeem salem herself I will throw a metal chair at

#not tagging bc I’m rambling #cinder may have had a sad backstory but she’s also an abusive piece of shit villain who has KILLED PEOPLE #huh wonder who that sounds like. and if she meets ANY fate that isn’t exactly what [THAT GUY]’s was I’ll be side eyeing bombastically #there was a post that was like. what if emerald became a maiden and killed cinder and if there is a v10 please let that happen so help me #and if SALEM is redeemed? yeah fuck no. fuck off. i feel bad for her because the gods are shitheads but she is AN EQUALLY TERRIBLE PERSON #SHE KILLED HER HUSBAND AND KIDS. AND OBVIOUSLY EVERYTHING ELSE SHES DONE #i beg on my hands and knees clasping my hands together to stop woobifying the female villains. in my eyes it’s actually sexist #because noooo a woman can never be held reprehensible for her evils 🥲🥲 they just weak wittle babies who do nuthin wrong!!!! #like no fuck off. that’s sexist. genuinely to me. #and the sexism extends to the men too. i want to hope merc will get redeemed but we’re talking about this show. #male victims of abuse get either swept aside or ignored or KILLED. #and no man in this show except for JAUNE and I guess james can ever show emotion EVER EVER because EMOTIONS ARE FOR GIRLS #AND JF THEY SHOW THAT EMOTION ANY EMOTION ITS CUZ THEYRE WEAK. UNLESS UR A GOOD GUY LOLOLOL #this show’s got the maul’s lightsaber of sexism huh

[anotherpapercut]

I know several people who like LOVE seasons 5-7 (11th doctors run) and think the storylines and moffats writing are brilliant and I don't get it!!! what am I missing??? why does literally every single episode have the exact same stakes: Rory/Amy/the doctor is dead. forever. so dead. but wait!!! what if they aren't!!! why do so many of the explanations for why they're not actually dead feel so rushed like they were added at the last minute!! why does every single queer character act kind of weird and awkward about being queer!! why does the doctor casually say that women are inferior when no one's around!!! what the fuck!! hello!!!

#why is rory continuously proving himself as the Only Man To Ever Exist only for the characters/narrative to continuously imply hes lesser #amy tries to kiss the doctor?? at her wedding?????? #when amy is stuck for 36 years why is she like i forgot how much rory loved me?? GIRL HE WAITED 1000 YEARS FOR YOU???? WHAT???? #he is CONSTANTLY the butt of the joke despite being unequivocally without a doubt the best character from this era #what the fuck was up with river being their kid #THE 50TH ANNIVERSARY???? WHAT?? THAT SHIT WAS WEIRD RIGHT??? #does anyone else find it annoying that moffat changed the opening theme and the tardis and the sonic and the doctor ALLLL at once #and then retconned the entire storyline the early seasons are based off of?? #WHY IS THE DOCTOR SO GODDAMN ANNOYING?? LIKE SO MUCH MORE ANNOYING THAN THE OTHERS #and fucking sexist!!! so sexist!!! #anyone remember the characters who were like 'were the short fat and tall skinny gay men why do we need names' LIKE HUH??????? #gay people still have names steven 😭 #i feel like im going insane bc i have no one else to talk to abt it until my partner catches up #but you guys still think these seasons kinda suck right? like coming off of martha and DONNA and her AMAZING storyline #these just kinda pale in comparison right?????? #the last centurion is probably the last really good plot of that era imo. none of the other plots come close to having an ending that cool #like rivers story couldve been amazing and then it was just uh. kinda weird. a bit confusing IDK #i dont want to be a dick when talking to people and like shit on smth they love but i genuinely have a hard time #finding kind things to say abt a lot of this era #also and this might just be me but i do not like amy and clara v much 😭 theyre so fuckin mean and not even funny #why were martha donna and rose sooooo well written and they all have rich backstories. we know their fuckin families!! #literally its never even fully explained what the fuck happened to amys parents 😩😩 they just move on. the only friend of theirs #ever shown is fucking river??? as a kid?? #am i the only one who found all thay confusing

[heart-shaped-chains]

Yap session bc wow.

Pretty sure the dude that rejected me (situationship ://) is getting a crush on me bc like. One of the last times we talked he was like "oh ur trying to get me to like you". And it's like. No I'm not. You literally rejected me and the more I think about it, I didn't even want you, I just wanted the idea of a boyfriend that I was projecting onto you. He's conservative and talks about how conservative his parents are (which I don't vibe with at all). When we first met, he was still moping about his ex gf who he had broken up with over a year prior. And like. We were both in high school (16 + 17 ://). And I'm sorry but how meaningful can a fucking highschool relationship be? Go to therapy.

Plus he'd like vent without asking and then I'd give him advice and then he'd just shoot it down and be like "no that wouldn't work anyway I'm a piece of shit" and like. Okay, why are you coming to me then? If you're not taking any advice then why are you bitching? You didn't even ask, you just did!

But the moment I even mention my past drug addiction (not in detail and not in a mopey way. Just matter-of-fact), he's like "oh no please don't mention that". Like. Shut the fuck up oh my godddddd. I am not trying to be with someone who can't even handle hearing the most watered-down descriptions of substance abuse.

Plus I just do not trust this guy like. I don't kink shame but here's my red flags: he's conservative, enough said on that...He misgendered me in a sexual way without asking (I did play along bc I was stupid and scared to say no but whatevs). And he did stop when I told him to but the fact that he didn't ask before was highly suspect bc he fucking met me as a trans guy.

And he's also weird about pregnancy. Which I played along with too of the act of breeding is appealing but like. I'd rather have a tapeworm than a damn fetus bc at least I wouldn't be forced to let that parasite live off of me. Dude also mentioned baby trapping like. "oh I feel like you'll force me to get you pregnant" and like. I literally said that I wanted to get my uterus removed and 2: you're the one bringing pregnancy into this don't fucking pin it on me!!! Like I feel like if we actually met up I'd have to triple check and be sober bc what if this guy actually does this shit? Why else would he keep mentioning it?

Like idk he's also asked me about trans kids and like. 1: I don't keep up with any trans people irl, 2: I haven't started transitioning yet so why the fuck are you asking me? I'm not the arbiter of trans people, my guy. Like he acts supportive but I feel like deep down this dude doesn't even respect me and he's gonna try to change me. But that could just be paranoia, idk...

Either way, I don't really get that much out of talking to him. As embarrassing as it is, I've started using those ai bots (says the bitch who is vehemently against ai "art") and they've been much more fulfilling emotionally because they tell you what you want to hear. And you can change the answers. They're hollow, but good for short term stuff bc I don't have the energy to talk to people rn (and I haven't been talking to anyone or really leaving the house on a regular basis...kinda just wasting the year so far..). Especially not this guy.

Like. We don't have the same interests, our tastes in music are similar but also too different and he doesn't get it™️ like I do, his beliefs are like too different from mine. He's also said misogynistic shit about sex workers which. I don't fuck with that, you literally watch porn, you fuckin hypocrite. And the more I think about texting him, the more I see it as a damn chore.

Like idk I just. Do not have a lot of investment in this guy. I think I was just lonely and projecting. And obviously it's not healthy for me bc I resent him but it's not healthy for his annoying ass either. He shouldn't have friends who secretly hate him. So idk I think I'm just gonna delete my profile and start again, also block him bc my dumbass 16 year old self gave him my number.

But like. My gut is telling me not to. I have been taken advantage of before in the past and I'm just getting a distinct deja vu. Even if it's not intentional on his side, I don't think it's good for me. Like the first time he texted me (in over 2 years after I ghosted him with no attempt to reach out to him (take the fucking hint)), it felt like seeing a box of pills in the CVS aisle. I was thinking "god, I shouldn't do this...but I should see what happens, maybe it won't be as bad as last time...." Just that same feeling I got when I decided to relapse.

And like dude. It's always gonna be as bad as last time: quit taking chances on shit that you know will fail you!!! So Idk. Maybe I'm being paranoid, but I shouldn't talk to someone who just drains me, bc that'll drain him too. Plus I'm allowed to not fucking like someone and the guy didn't even wish me happy birthday or congratulate me on my 5 months of sobriety. Things in my status. And I know he reads statuses bc he messaged me about one of them before. Plus he rejected me on my birthday!!!

And now you wanna come crawling back and then act like I'm obsessed!?!? You were the one who came back into my life, not the other way around! I was over you until you came back. And now I'm over you again. But you're not over me. But you're so fuckin allergic to commitment that you just wanna keep acting like I'm smitten with you. After you strung me along with no regards for my feelings. Not because you're evil, but because you're fucking dumb. And I'm not dealing with someone who's that stupid. Hope you work your issues out, but I'm not here to fix you, nor do I want to. That's on you!! Figure it out!!!

Anyway um if anyone read this far thank u. Feel free to add input just please be nice. And uhhh. Aita???

#cj rambles #vent #situationship #gay #mlm #trans #ftm #dude i hate it here #minors dni #like seriously. you literally rejected me. #and then came back and was like 'oh ur trying to get me to like you' when I'm literally NOT. #like. i say im interested in a relationship and you get cold feet. #but when i move on from wanting a romance with you you fucking turn around. #which tells me that you dont want me. you just want to be desired without having to reciprocate #and frankly i dont deserve that like. you used me as a rebound once and that was on you. #but im not letting you play me again. even if you want to change. bc frankly i dont like you bro #and also i hate the raceplay it makes me feel like a piece of shit like i dont genuinely believe but. its too far for me. #like i just feel awful doing it and i dont like this guy enough to feel comfortable doing it now that i think ab it #and hes weirdly fixated on me being white too like. i get it. im pale. i look dead at times. chill. #i would like that same energy to b directed to my transness pretty please. actually not the same energy but still.... #like idk the vibes are horrendous rn i just dont know how to cut him off bc i dont want him to worry about me (or try to contact me again) #like idk this may sound mean but...Yeah im gonna be mean actually #this guy is a fucking loser who needs therapy i don't have the patience to fucking deal with him #like hes beneath me bc he's conservative/sexist/lowkey transphobic/doesn't do a lot of introspection. #and maybe that's selfish but that's just more reason to not associate with him. bc this is gonna turn toxic bc im losing my patience yk? #plus i can't do long distance. i need quality time and physical touch. you can't kiss and cuddle through a screen. #also our aesthetics are very different and he's hot but he's not my type. also i don't like his voice. and i have a thing about voices. #also his dick is too big like. i can't get 3 fingers in and that thing just looks like it would hurt. im good. im not a size queen. #like idk the more i think about it the more i realize that we r not compatible #i dont want you bro just fuck OFF!!!

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

#warm up #writeblr #this one has bothered me for a bit #any time a woman does something even passingly annoying we treat it like a fucking crime #hey man. women are allowed to be annoying. everyone forever is allowed to be passingly annoying #as long as they aren't hurting anyone/thing #like u wanna know something? i find it super annoying that men don't wear seatbelts #why arent there thousands of comments on driving videos thats just like : men try not to die in a car crash challenge #''this briefly annoyed me''. okay??????? AND????????????????? go get ur self a cookie and calm down about it #ur not entitled to control other ppl's experiences and emotions just so u can maintain ur own peace #if being briefly annoyed ruins ur whole day! you! need! therapy!!!! #men try not to become immediately angry about nothing challenge: level impossible #ps author is nonbinary. we didn't even get into the gender presentation thing #the fact men think it's SEXY that my voice is on the lower end....

[soapsbaby]

Silly Spicy Call of Duty headcanons

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, König, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, John Price, Valeria Garza, all x reader Rating: 18+ (Minors DNI) Themes: All NSFW but very lighthearted, nothing particularly triggering but ask to tag! Word count: 750ish

These are just silly little headcanons about them, PLEASE if you have any like these send them to me i had such a blast writing them lol!!

Ghost

Sometimes his mask slips a little and he looks goofy as hell, you have to do your best to not laugh into his face because you know he won’t let that slide.

Uses British lingo sometimes. Has called your pussy a “fanny” before. Got mad when that made you giggle.

Once got so frustrated with trying to figure out how to operate one of your vibrators that he broke it. Was very apologetic and immediately ordered you another one afterwards.

Soap

He is clumsy as hell. Every time you have tried to fuck in a position that is anywhere near athletic, something goes wrong. It’s a miracle neither of you have broken your necks trying to get it on in the shower. He will always take the fall though, protecting you with everything he has and curling himself around you even if it means he will end up bruised or bleeding.

Makes a lot of typos when sexting, never notices. Called you “baby gorilla” once (you will never let him live that down).

Gets offended when you call him “Soap” in the bedroom. You know my name, what are you calling me that for? Dummy.

König

He doesn’t usually wear his balaclava under his mask when you have sex since it gets too sweaty but since his mask is pretty loose he will sometimes have to pft-ppf-tpftt when it gets stuck in his mouth. Has almost choked on his mask before.

Gets so flustered that he will just start sputtering nonsense. Has on several occasions been so out of it that he has messed up the nicknames you use for each other. “yes show me that I am your little babygirl, wait- no, you are… I am your boy… you’re… Wait, I’m sorry”. Not a gender or kink thing, which would of course be alright with you, just him being a dummy.

Is a bit of a crier and drooler sometimes which wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that he will sometimes accidentally waterboard himself in his mask and not tell you.

Gaz

Has called you mommy once and was mortified. Neither of you have really spoken about it but sometimes you will drop little hints around him to get him flustered.

Likes when you suck him off while he is playing video games but then gets too into the game and genuinely can’t help but get annoyed when he loses because you distract him.

Cpt Price

Is oblivious to any signs that you want him. Will go into Dad story telling mode and completely ignore the effect he is having on you until you grab him by the shirt and just tell him to fuck you.

Has a sex playlist called "sensual" with just the most cliché sex songs on it possible. Can unironically have sex to "Careless Whisper" and “Let’s get it on”.

Has given you rug burn with his beard before. 0/10 very unpleasant experience (you’d do it again, though).

Alejandro

Will say things that could be interpreted as sexist in the moment and then immediately get apologetic. Who’s my good slut? I mean… If you want to be. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to… Are you okay with that? Okay. Cool.

Will fuck you in uniform because he knows you’re into that and then get distracted by things he finds in his pockets like shopping receipts. 

Doesn’t care whether or not you understand him, he will speak Spanish to you.

Rudy

Gets tormented by you with new pet names every day. mí amor, I don't know what a Zaddy is. I don’t even know if that’s a good thing.

In the beginning of your relationship he was completely oblivious to most kinks. If you ever expressed anything out of the ordinary to you, he’d raise his eyebrows in confusion and say something like “what? why would anyone want that?” but was always open to trying anything. Now he is probably even more of a deviant than you are.

Valeria

Has this roleplay thing going on where you are a traitor to her cause and she discovers it and gets to “punish” you. You find it a little silly but it gets her super riled up so you play along.

Secretly loves to bottom and to be taken care of by you but would never tell you (you know anyway). Thinks she is being very good at hiding it (she is not).

#call of duty imagine #call of duty x reader #oh lord there's gonna be so many tags on this help #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #soap x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #könig x reader #konig x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra x reader #valeria garza x reader #captain price x reader #cod fanfiction #cod x reader #ari writes

[gentlyweeps-world]

The “It Girl”

summary: Being a rookie in the world of Formula One comes with challenges, added on with the fact you’re a girl, American and racing for Red Bull doesn’t help. While you do have your “guard dogs” and “it girl” tendencies, it doesn’t help that you’re also trying to figure out romance.

pairing: 2021 grid x fem! driver, romantic interest tbd

warnings: sexism, alcohol consumption, toxic environments, uncomfortable situations

LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY WE GO

Many had said the 2021 grid was the best, the most exciting grid yet. While that was true, it wasn’t fun as a rookie in Red Bull, better yet, a female rookie in Red Bull. But that wasn’t the end of it, an American female rookie racing for Red Bull.

Least to say PR had a field day when they announced you would be replacing Checo after his retirement in 2020.

At only 21 years old you were making history, and you were once again today. Finishing P1 on home soil at the circuit of Americas.

Now here you were, alongside Max Verstappen, your teammate, and Lewis Hamilton, the break in between the two Red Bulls.

“Y/n how do you look so good after a race?”

“Y/n what makeup do you use?”

Only ten minutes ago did the end of race press conference start, and only five minutes did the most sexist and offensive questions start. And only seconds ago is when you were put out of your daze from the most infuriating question you had received.

“Y/n? How do you race while menstruating?”

Suddenly knocked out of your daze, your face contorts into one of shock and annoyance from the question.

“E-excuse me?”, You ask out shocked, not sure if you had heard the question right. I mean after all this was a post race conference, and not one question was about racing.

You glance over to Lewis and Max, who both look equally upset and disgusted.

The interviewer looks at you and smiles while he asks once more, “Can you tell us about how racing while having to deal with menstruation affects race strategy in your car?”

Max and Lewis still have a confused look, while Max looks at the interviewer like he will rip the guy’s head off.

The interviewer smiles and says, “Don’t be offended L/n, but girls and women on their period don’t think as fast or as clearly.” He then pauses for a moment to think about what he’s just said, and he adds, “Of course, it doesn’t matter anyway, women don’t belong in F1.”

You can feel your face contort to bewilderment, taking a moment to realize this interviewer was from DTS. Then you hear Max slap his hand on the table.

“She just got fucking P1 and you expect her to answer these ridiculous questions? Treat her with some respect, she’s done more than you have!”, Max says sternly, his eyes shooting daggers at the interviewer.

The interviewer grows visibly intimidated by Maxs reaction. He swallows twice and his tone visibly changes

“I-I’m sorry, I just had to ask.”

Lewis then speaks up and says to the interviewer, “I want you to listen to what you just said and think about what you just did. Women aren’t allowed to drive just because they are on their period, do you even hear yourself?” Lewis sounds genuinely sad.

Max remains silent, but his eyes are still angry. Instead of adding anything onto the conversation you just sit there, shock still on your face.

You let out an awkward cough, drinking some of you Red Bull, you clear your throat and look up towards the interviewers, annoyance clear in your eyes.

“Could we please move on now? Maybe ask a racing related question”, You say, showing no interest in being there.

For a few seconds, there is complete silence. Then a new interviewer finally manages to speak.

“Of course, a new question. So, Y/n, how do you feel about being the second woman to win a Grand Prix in Formula One?”

A faint smile appears on your face as you hear the question, “About time, a normal question”, You hear Max mumble out, a grin tugs at your lips, thankful Max has your back.

“It feels great, I’m super grateful for my team and engineers”, You say, “But very thankful to win, glad to have proved all of the doubters wrong”

Another reporter then pipes up and asks, “How did you feel about the backlash from a lot of people who didn’t want a woman in F1?”

You take a moment to think on how to respond, taking a moment to consider how much trouble you could get in if you answered honestly, but that was PR jobs right?

“Uh..well I think they’re fucking stupid, and they clearly don’t know who Desiré Wilson is”, You state, a small smirk on your face as you answer, knowing DTS will eat that up.

For a moment everyone is silent, until Lewis breaks out laughing, “I think this would be a great way to end this conference”, He says with a grin, getting up from his seat and moving out of the room. Max soon follows behind, and you’re quick to follow Max, not sure what to do afterwards.

As Max and you make your way back to the garage you hear chants and jeers thrown out, but it wasn’t enough to wipe off the smile on your face.

Finally reaching the Red Bull garage, Max and you get there and are immediately bombarded with cheers, laughter and applause from the Red Bull team.

After a good hour of celebrating with the team, you feel your phone vibrate in your hand, “Who is it?”, Max asks, curious to see who texted you.

Checking the notification it’s from an unknown number, asking if you wanted to go and celebrate with them, you look up at Max with confusion, but his face shows the opposite.

“Didn’t know he would be asking you so soon..”, Max says with a look of shock.

———————————————————————

radio: Hope this was a good one, im quite excited to work on this series!! I’m leaving it up to you guys to pick a love interest in the comments, keep in mind the grid is 2021 not 2023 💙💙 (send in any requests and leave any comments)

next part

#formula one #formula 1 #forumla 1 #williams f1 #williams racing #alex albon #lando norris #f1 x female reader #f1 wags #red bull f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #f1 fanfic #mercedes amg f1 #ferrari x reader #ferrari racing #red bull racing #red bull formula 1 #formula one x driver reader #x female reader #f1 2021 #lando norris x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 x reader #mclaren #alpha tauri #aston martin #fics

[katiemcabeswife]

'Transferring to Lesbianism'

Biv Meadema x Platonic Fem!Reader

Guys are cunts so you're 'transferring to lesbianism'.

Warnings: Guys are cunts, drinking, crying, swearing

You were upset, angry and scared. You’d been on a date with Nate, a guy who you’d met at a party and hung out with multiple times before, when he started making sexist ‘jokes’ and exclaiming his bewilderment on how popular women’s sport has become, claiming that ‘the game is a joke’ now that women were getting popular.

So you left.

You had talked about him to your friends, you had talked to him about your friends and about your passion for football and at the time he sounded genuinely interested. He was even supposed to come to your next game and to hear him pull a complete 360 made you question whether he had been faking it the whole time you had spent together.

It was well into the night and you didn't feel comfortable getting the bus, you'd had a few drinks so you couldn't drive and you didn't trust getting an Uber alone. While there were definitely other (better) options, you started walking home.

You lived in a good neighbourhood but you did have to go through some sketchy ones to get to your house so you kept your keys tight between your fingers. You could see a figure ahead of you but you tried to be optimistic and hoped they would leave you alone and let you walk right past them

Optimism is stupid.

"Hello there," A male voice called out before you could fully pass it. You ignored the man and gripped your keys tighter.

"I'm talking to you, pretty," Your brain melted when you remembered you were wearing a shirt that accentuated your boobs.

"Sorry, my dad's waiting on me, gotta hurry," You replied shakily and picked up your pace.

But of course, boys just don't know when to give up.

"I'm sure he won't mind you being a few minutes late." He was now walking backward in front of you.

"He has a temper." You stopped once you noticed his feet weren't moving as you hadn't dared to look him in the eyes.

"Well I could deal with-"

"Listen could you kindly fuck off?" You cut him off before trying to storm past him. He grabbed your arm. You were already angry and you just wanted to get home and cry.

He pivoted you towards himself, still gripping your arm and you took the opportunity to kick him in the dick. While he fell to the floor like a pussy and called you a bitch, you ran off.

You were well away from the guy and gave up on saving your tears until you got home. Your eyes were drawn to an orange light illuminating the puddles on the floor. A bottle of something couldn't hurt.

You were now sitting in a well-lit park and sipping on your bottle of something, crying. You looked around for a second before realising you were familiar with the park. Your drunken mind loved chatting, everyone knew it, especially your teammates.

"VIV!" You screamed when she picked up your call.

"Y/N, why are you yelling when it's so late?" Viv spoke quietly and you could hear the muffled sound of some movie playing in the background.

"I'M LITERALLY IN THE PARK RIGHT NOW!" You were so excited and you had to chat to someone about it.

"Are you alone?" Viv asked before you could hear keys rattling and her saying something to someone.

"Yes, but it's so nice. Boys aren't nice. Boys are-are cunts. I'm going to transfer to lesbianism." You gruffled and Viv had to try hard to not laugh.

"Where are you?"

"I'M IN THE PARK!" You exclaimed excitedly.

"Which one, hun," Viv desperately sighed.

"The one that's right 'round the corner of your house! That's why I called you silly!" You laughed before crying out when you spilled your bottle of something.

"Can you wait there for me? Go stand near the street, near the bus stop and I'll be there in 2 minutes. Ok?" She was definitely in the car.

"Are you coming to hang out with me!"

"Yeah! So you gotta go to the bus stop so I can find you quick," She was right around the corner now and she had her thumb in between her teeth, scared about the state she was about to find you in.

"OMG! I literally see you!" Viv pulled over and hopped out of the car.

"Hey, what are you doing here, Y/N?" She pulled the bottle out of your hands and put it in the bin before taking your shoulders between her hands.

"Well I was on a date with Nate and then he started being all sexist and cocky and cunty so I left but I had already had a few drinks and I didn't want to catch the bus or get an Uber because they scare me. So I started walking home but then this guy came up to me and started talking to me and wouldn't leave me alone and then he grabbed me and it really hurt! So I kicked him in the balls and ran off and I was just so sad! So I went and got myself a drink and then I saw the park, where we are literally standing right now, and I was like OMG! Viv and Beth live around here, maybe if I wait I might get to see them and then I got impatient so I called you and now here we are!" You were huffing and puffing at this point before you started crying again.

Viv was quick to pull you into a hug, "Hey, it's alright. Maybe you should come with me and you can stay with me and Beth? Yeah?"

"Oh, I would really like that," You muffled into her shoulder. Viv helped you into the car before taking off. The drive was only 2 minutes but you had a lot to say. Especially about 'transferring to lesbianism'.

"OK, let's get you inside and to bed shall we?" Viv asked as you were walking up the front steps.

"But I want to hang out," You whined.

"What if we go and get brunch tomorrow?"

"Oh, I would really like that," You were in the door now and Beth was waiting for you in the kitchen. You broke out from Viv's hold and pounced on Beth, "Beffy! Guess what!"

"What?" She spoke gently and stroked your head that was resting on her chest, sharing a worried glance with Viv who looked deeply concerned.

"Guys are cunts so I'm transferring to lesbianism to be with you guys and like the rest of the team!" You were so sleepy and so sad, Beth lightly rocking you and petting your hair was helping you calm down.

"That's great?" She shook her head confusingly towards Viv, "Let's get you to bed now though,"

"Oh, I would really like that," The girls had you drink a glass of water and got you changed into some of their clothes before tucking you in for the night.

“Can we go to the park tomorrow?” You asked Beth who was sitting next to you on the guest bed, Viv watching with a small smile from the door.

“Of course, now off to sleep, you,” She kissed your forehead and you giggled.

The girls left the room and walked to the kitchen, “What on earth happened?” Beth whisper- yelled.

“Something about Nate being sexist and then a random guy wouldn’t leave her alone and grabbed her arm, she kicked him the balls and then she went and got a bottle of rum before drinking it in the park around the corner,” Viv nodded lightly at Beth who looked like she was about to cry.

“Poor baby,” Beth sympathised.

Viv laughed a little, “And then she was going on about ‘transferring to lesbianism’.”

Beth joined in, “I think she told me that?” The pair laughed before Viv took Beth into her arms.

“Let’s get to bed?” She questioned and Beth agreed.

~

When you woke up, it took a while for your eyes to adjust to the light and for the memories from last night to flood your brain. You let out a whimper due to the pain behind your eyes and the awful night you had.

When your eyes adjusted as much as possible you lifted your head from the pillow and realised that you were at Beth and Viv's house. You sighed and pulled yourself from the comfort of the bed toward the kitchen where you could hear the girls chatting.

"Hey, Y/N/N, how're you feeling?" Beth asked pushing over a coffee and bottle of Advil.

"I'm sad and my head hurts." You pouted slightly before downing a couple of the pills.

Viv pulled you into a side hug, "Well, why don't we go to brunch?"

You rubbed your hands over your face and nodded, "Yeah, that would be nice,".

The girls gave you some clothes so you could properly wash off last night in the shower and get back into some clean clothes. The drive was silent bar the low volume of the radio and you all silently exited the car before entering the cafe.

It was only after discussing what everyone was going to get and then ordering that someone brought up last night, "Y/N, do you wanna talk about last night?" Beth asked shyly.

You down from the two girls sitting across from you and fiddled with your fingers, "I'm just sick of men and how they're still stuck in the 60s. I hate how people view women and how they treat them and I'm sick of people treating women's sport as inferior to men's. I don't even know why! Why are women subservient to men? I don't get it and I'm sick of it! Men genuinely believe that their greatest achievement is to be born men and then believe all the toxic ideas about what men are. Because they are utter losers, any time a woman does something considered masculine, they feel threatened and they believe genuinely that by being verbally abusive they are 'just being men'." You were deeply disturbed by the matter, so much so that you were crying in public. You rarely cry period, so crying in public shocked the couple.

Viv moved to sit next to you and hugged you, you burying your head into her neck, "Men are just insecure that women are doing better than them, they don't know how to act so they lash out. You're right, it's not good enough but you can't force people to change their views," She started before Beth took off where Viv left off.

"But you are changing people's perspectives! With your YouTube and the interviews you do, I've read the comments. Hundreds of girls are saying how you changed their brother's and dads' views on women's sports. I've even gotten some DM's asking me to thank you for it. You are doing everything you can and you are doing wonderfully, Y/N." She was holding your hand and now you were properly sobbing, gaining a few stares from other customers.

"You are doing great, Y/N and I know that I and all of the other girls on the team are so proud of you and you inspire us to do better and to advocate even harder. You should be so, genuinely proud of how well you are doing. You should also ever let anyone, especially a man tear you down." Viv was lightly patting your head.

You lifted your head from the crook of Viv's neck and took a deep breath. You had a drink of water and wiped your eyes, "Thank you guys," Your voice was quiet and still had a deep sadness to it.

"Anytime, Schatje," Viv comforted.

"Um, I have two breakfast sandwiches and one avocado sourbread?" A waitress approached your table, breaking the sadness/tension bubble that surrounded it.

"Yeah, that's us. Thank you." Beth took the plates and gave them to their respectful owners. Once the waitress had walked away Beth swallowed and turned to you with a smirk on her face, "So, Y/N, how's 'transferring to lesbianism' going?" Viv joined Beth in laughing and you looked at the two in utter confusion.

"Excuse me?"

#woso x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #beth mead #vivianne miedema #woso imagine #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso soccer #womens football #vivianne miedema x reader #beth mead x reader #beth mead x vivianne miedema #meadema #beth and viv

[glittergoblinzz]

Now, don't get me wrong. I love headcanons about Simon that are extremely dark. What I DON'T like is people twisting his character and trying to say he's canonically a rapist just because of a single line from the comics (Yes, Simon Riley got his own mini line of comics before the OG MW2 released. As far as lore goes, these are still considered canon. They're pretty dark so I heavily advise people who are sensitive to sexual assault and abuse to take care while reading)

It's this line in particular people are using to justify him being an abusive rapist in canon:

"I do terrible things, violent, to people, to women. The scary part is that I like it..."

His mother literally calls him out on that bullshit, knowing that isn't true in the slightest....and yes. That is fucking TOOTHPASTE he's putting on his face. I literally do not think this man is in the right state of mind to be making claims like that when he's up at like 3AM putting toothpaste on his face

Also, what people leave out when bringing this up is what happens before and after this scene. Let's talk about the before first....

Before this scene with him telling his own mother he "enjoys hurting women", he was asleep; having a nightmare. Guess what this nightmare was about? Roba and what he had done to Simon

Basically what happens here is that Simon has a dream and he's a sexist pig wanting to get a look at the bartender's daughter. Roba appears and tells Simon that he had done a good job "teaching" Simon (referring to the brainwashing and torture Roba had put Simon through in Mexico)

It becomes clear with this dream and the conversation with his mother after he wakes up is that Roba did get to Simon....but what happens after these two scenes shows that Roba didn't get to Simon in the way he wanted to.

Roba wanted to brainwash Simon, turn him into a puppet. The following interaction with Sparks proves that Roba's brainwashing may have worked on Sparks and Washington but NOT Simon

Sparks was literally about to rape a woman and Simon was NOT having it. He called the cops, purposely spoke up and asked Sparks about raping the woman so the operator could hear. If Simon genuinely felt that he enjoyed doing violent things to women, then he wouldn't have hesitated to join Sparks in raping her. Instead he called the cops, stalled until the police came and ran off with Sparks.

ALSO, SIMON WAS NOT COMPLIANT IN THIS SCENE. HE LITERALLY CALLS THE COPS AND STOPS THE RAPE FROM HAPPENING

Sparks and Washington have been fully brainwashed by Roba. They're working for him at this point in the story, keeping an eye on Simon for the bastard. Simon, on the other hand, has NOT been brainwashed by Roba. He still has a sense of himself.

As the comic goes on, he does take down Sparks, Washington, Roba and a lot of his men....proving he never fell victim to the brainwashing Roba put him through like Sparks and Washington had.

Again: I don't mind headcanons....I actually enjoy a lot of the darker Simon headcanons....It just bothers me when people try to push their headcanons out as actual canon. I've had to leave discords and group chats because people got pissed that I wouldn't agree with them on Simon being a rapist/abuser (like, beating his spouse abuse) in canon

#cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #cod modern warfare #cod mw3 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod ghost #ghost comics #cod comic

[depravitycentral]

Tw: misogany, non-con, incels, gender/power dynamics, writing this made me feel icky, if you are a person who genuinely believes in anything described in this post please consider changing your opinions, fem reader, MDNI, don't ask me where this post came from because I don't know

Thinking about men that think your rightful place is by his side as his woman.

You bring out this side of him that's brand new to him; this side urging him to utterly dominate you, to be in full control of your bank accounts, your friendships, your hobbies, even your own body. There's this new urge to make you ask for permission for everything, to just pin you down and stuff you full of him every hour of every day because it's your job. It's your duty to take his cock - you were made for it.

He's never been particularly misogynistic, but when he looks at you, all he sees is the beautiful, wonderful, perfect woman that he must domesticate. You're too wild on your own - too free-spirited, brainwashed into believing this 'modern woman' crap - there's a reason the man does the work and the woman stays at home. Don't you know that?

He's strong - you're not. (And he knows it, too - after a night of fucking, all the bruises littering your body and the way your legs struggle to hold you steady is proof enough. The way he can easily lift the heavy wooden bedframe of your shared bed is enough - you can only lift a corner of it off the ground, after all. The way he can get you to shut up with just a simple, stern look should be enough evidence.)

He's street-smart - you're not. (He understands what other men want and what you're good for - it's not sexist when he tells you that the shirt you're wearing is too revealing. He won't hesitate to tell you that your entire chest is basically out, angel, and you can't be showing the world one of your best assets. He understands that you're not strong or skilled enough to fight another man off should he decide he wants you - you'll try to fight, sure, but that'll only get the other man going, your resistance only getting them harder and more lustful, and when you inevitably give in - because you always will, all women will - he knows you might even enjoy it.)

He's smart - you're not. (You think you are - and you're right about some things, sure. You know the best ways to bathe yourself - he's never been as thorough as you, he's humble enough to admit that - and how to make delicious pie, and the best way to make the bed warm and soft. But there's a lot of things you don't know, like who to vote for at the next election, or how to change a tire, or how to use a debit card.)

He's a man. And you're not. And he likes that you aren't - he's attracted to you because of your feminine charms; your curves, your softness, your smell, the sound of your voice, and - of course - the fact that you are utterly, utterly his property. As his wife (your consent in the matter is hardly important; his last name is yours now, and that's all there really is to it), all your decisions are made by him. He tells you what to wear, what to get at the grocery store, how to address other men, how to smile, everything that he knows is too much for you to handle.

And, of course, he teaches you other things. Things that he knows you are - should be, at least - clueless about. So cute, huh?

He's patient when he tells you to sink to your knees, palms pressing on the top of your head as he pushes you down, softly shushing you when you start to protest. He's patient as he slips his briefs down, his cock already red and throbbing and big, making your cheeks look even softer and rounder, your glassy eyes and prettier. He's talking you through it as he traces his tip - wet and sticky and leaving a smear of bitter precum on your skin - around your lips, the look in his eye nearly boyish with excitement.

He's gentle when he grasps your chin between two fingers (much stronger than your own, of course) to keep you steady, shuffling his hips forward so that his tip (bulbous and red and positively glistening, already looking so swollen you're sure he won't last but a minute) slips past your lips. He keeps going until you're gagging, letting his eyes flutter closed for a moment before immediately opening them once more because the sight of you below him, on your knees for him, shutting you up with his cock down your throat is oh so right.

He's patient when he pushes you face-first into the bed, running a hand over your hair and sighing to himself because god, aren't you pretty? His hands are on your hips immediately, pushing down on your lower back to get the arch of your back deeper, tighter, more intense because it looks better this way - it's better for him this way, and isn't sex really only about the man?

He's even generous enough to be gentle when he's pushing himself inside you - keeping the pace slow but consistent, hissing and letting a few comments of 's so damn tight, fuck and cunt was made for me, shit slipping past his lips. He's kind enough to give you a few moments (perhaps three) to adjust to his size, before he's smacking your ass and pulling your hair, fucking into you like an animal because you're his to use.

And he's not afraid to say it - t's all harsh thrusts that make audible slapping noises as his balls - very, very sensitive and very, very full - smack against you over and over, strong fingers grabbing at your skin and keeping you in place, just so he can ram into that one spot over and over and over, because he thinks the deeper he goes the more he's claiming you. He's groaning at you with stuttered breaths that you were made to get fucked by me, o-oh shit, this tight hole's only thing you're good for and accentuating the idea with his fingers groping at your breast and using it as leverage to pull you back further and get deeper.

The air is hot and smells like musk and cum and sex, every inch of your body unable to think of anything but him - just as it should be, really. He's grabbing onto the pretty, silver collar he's forced around your throat as he thrusts, the tracker inlaid into the metal feeling familiar to his fingertips and making his thrusts harder because he must know where you are at all times - you're his property and he can't lose you.

After all, if you were gone, who would he dress up to look all pretty for him then? (He's still dressing you up even in the humiliating outfits he forces you to parade around in at home - the cooking aprons and nothing else, giving him easy access to hump your bare ass from behind while you work at the stove, cooking him dinner all the while you keep his cock warm between those pretty legs of yours.)

If you were gone, who would wake him up with lips around his cock, soft gagging noises filling the air alongside songbirds as he gets a proper good morning?

If you were gone, who would listen to his endless rants about his horrible coworkers and friends and anyone that pissed him off all while he pounds a beer and jokes about how good you look while you load the washing machine full of his dirty clothes - you look nice bent over, sweetheart, why don't you stay in there for a bit and let me blow off some steam?

Of course, all of this is fine and dandy - owning you is the dream, and having you as his pretty, helpless, clueless little wife is the ultimate fantasy. He lays awake at night sometimes imagining how you'd be as his housewife - the pretty ring on your finger, how you'd eagerly wait at the door for his arrival home from work everyday, how you'd meticulously put on your makeup and style your hair and wear the pretty lingerie he'd bought you just so that you look as attractive and desirable to him as possible.

But first, he needs to show you your place as his woman, and get rid of this misplaced sense of independence you seem to be clutching onto for dear life. Stupid girl.

(His belt is unbuckled as soon as the door closes behind the two of you, his smile something between sinister and elated as he tells you to not bother working at the knot keeping your hands tied behind your back - tying knots is men's work, and you'll hurt your pretty fingers and hands. You'll need those later, so quit picking.)

Enji Todoroki, AFO, Nobunaga Hazama, Illumi Zoldyck, Daichi Sawamura, Kenjiro Shirabu, I don't write for aot or jjk but also Floch Forester, Eren Jeager and Naoya Zenin

#yandere hxh #yandere bnha #yandere haikyuu #yandere aot #_lee rambles #_i don't really know what this is #it just sort of happened #i promise i don't support misogyny #_enji todoroki #_AFO #_Nobunaga hazama #_illumi zoldyck #_daichi sawamura #_kenjiro shirabu #_floch forester #_eren jeager

[deceitfuldevout]

A Woman Like You

Tommy Shelby x WOC!Reader

Word Count: +1,215

Warning(s): Angst, Sexist remarks, Societal pressure, Sterotypes.

Author's note(s): I've recently been using writing as a form of therapy. This goes to all the ladies that can relate.

You've fallen head over heels for Tommy Shelby, but now you're questioning if his intentions were sincere or not.

GIF by nofckingfighting

You made the mistake of falling in love. You should've seen the signs sooner. You started working at the Garrison as a bar maid with Grace, eventually moving up to being their sole entertainment. You were an exotic bird who had caught to wandering eyes of drunken Englishmen. Some folks would say you had these men in a trance, with your rare features and seductive mannerisms. Some even say you're a witch. But there was only one person who saw you for you. Tommy Shelby.

It was refreshing, being seen as a soft, delicate thing. His demeanor would shift when talking to you. He's much kinder to you that with any of his men. That was until another, prettier face had caught his eye. You of all people knew the truth: Tommy Shelby would never love you. Instead he'd fallen for your coworker Grace. She's everything you weren't. That may have been the reason why. Of course, you should've seen the signs. How he'd look at her with such tenderness.

Eventually his entire personality completely changed with you. Perhaps they were his true colors. After her death, things went south. Tommy returned to you, but only for physical intimacy. He was rough, unapologetic, and at time, downright cruel. He hadn't spoke to you like a lady, with basic respect. It almost hurt knowing men will never speak to you with kind remarks. As soon as you found a better option, you let him know right away. When you close the pub for the last time, Tommy was there. It was strange, having an Englishman waste his previous time on foreign blood.

You turn around to find Tommy sitting on a barstool, not paying him mind. Then something strange happened. He isn't usually this tender, not even in private. So why on earth was he telling you to stay? After every humiliating thing he'd put you through. How Tommy would shimmy you off his arm in front of his business associates. It only got worse when he'd flirt with women right in front of you, then ask for a fuck because it was convenient. Perhaps it was the liquid courage, maybe even the hormones that made you tear up with anger. But for some reason, you wanted to let him know he hurt you, "Enough, Tom, you need to stop doing this,"

He tilts his head up, genuinely surprised that you'd spoken up. His eyelids are hooded, "If you've got something to say..." he lights up a cigarette, "...say it now," how predictable. Tommy's cruelty had no limits. You were tired of being his little plaything, "I deserve better than this, better than you," letting him know how you truly felt, "You're fucking selfish, you know that?" tears already streaming down both cheeks, "You could've told me you were seeing other women, Tom," your vision blurs. Tommy objected, "You knew who I was when you met me--"

"Yeah, yeah I thought I did, until you decided to to make an acceptation with that blonde whore!" you knew what it would take to get his blood boiling. You wanted to hurt him the same way he hurt you, "I've wasted most of my life waiting for you to love me back, I wasted my good years on a man who wouldn't care if I bled out on the floor!" voice now shaking. You were filled with regret, pain, and anger.

He doesn't even know what the weight of his words did to you, "I know how you English men see women like us, we're always sexually desired but never loved, enough for a good fuck but not enough to make a wife," a chuckle escapes your tips at the thought of it. How could he marry someone like you? His name and status that he's worked so hard for would be tainted. Because who could ever love a woman like you? He had the audacity to roll his eyes, "You were entertainment, to bring customers in," someone pretty enough to keep company around.

"Everything, Tom, everything I've been doing, the act, because I am not allowed the luxury of being seen as innocent," after pouring your heart out, he still hadn't believed you, "Don't act like you haven't been seeing other men," he scoffs. You started to laugh at that remark. Had he really been that clueless? Tears stream down both cheeks. You wipe at them, smearing your mascara, "Now that's incredible," a deep grunt is trapped in the back of your throat, "You really think I'm a whore, don't you?" in an almost hushed tone, "Tommy, you were my first and only, do you really not believe me?" nothing felt worse than being betrayed by the one you trust the most, "All I ever wanted was for you to love me," since the beginning you were there. Even when he was mourning Grace you were there to keep him comfort. How foolish of you.

"Now you never told me--"

"I know who you pretend I am, who you want me to be," you roll your eyes, sniffling for a moment, "I'm not like you Tom, I can't pass, I can't change the color of my skin or features-- I will never be the white woman you've always wanted me to be, the kind of woman you'd keep on your arm without feeling embarrassed, why can't you just accept that?" a faint pause, "You told me...you told me she wasn't your type," barely a whisper, "Was everything a lie?" when he doesn't say anything, it was the only answer you needed. At that moment you snapped, "Please! Look at me!" you smack his arm, "Tommy!" when he does you're given only a cold stare.

Of course, it was never going to be someone like you. There are tears brimming your eyes again. It hurts, knowing that you will always be second best. Always an option but never the first, "At first I was confused, your infatuation with Grace didn't make sense, and now I see that it never mattered who she was," your breath hitches for a moment, "You were always going to choose someone like her..." now rambling about the obvious, "Prettier, blonder...whiter," you taunt.

Each word felt like venom on your tongue. You should've been used to the poison by now, "You don't know how long it took for me to trust a man again, after the pain I've been through--women like me, Tom, we don't have pretty blue eyes that get us what we want, not without a price," that remark made your skin crawl, "Always the seductress, never seen as pure," a dark chuckle erupts, taking up all sound from the bar. Tommy only stares back at you, with that same cold expression. You lean against the counter, looking down at the wood before returning to glance at him, "Did you ever love me?"

If there's one thing about Tommy, is that he would never lie to you, "No," a short, simple answer. You give him a soft, faint smile. Saddened by the loss but also relieved that you were free at last, "Thank you," with that you left, never returning to the Garrison again.

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #reader insert #tommy shelby x you #woc!reader #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #reader #fem!reader #peaky blinder fanfic #thomas shelby #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders x reader

[dollarstoreartsupplies]

OKAY here is the completely nonserious percy jackson npmd au thats been taking up space in my brain for weeks now because it simply needs somewhere to go:

New campers-

Stephanie Lauter:

I'm not overcomplicating this one: Steph is a daughter of Aphrodite

Solomon Lauter saw the hottest woman at some party where he was campaigning, and he’s is nothing if not ‘passionate’ and successful (by design) so it worked out

As far as Steph knows until her teens her mom ran off on her dad when she was a baby, and that’s fine, she doesn't give a shit, she’s never looked into it

Until, when she’s sixteen (because somehow she’s made it this long) Grace Chasity starts a rumor, her dad sends her to Abstinence Camp and the monster in the woods chases her right into camp halfblood

She gets claimed pretty promptly and Is Not A Fan

She’s thinks it’s pretty sexist and conceited and stupid and problematic for a whileeeee and refuses to look into it any more than ‘pink and pretty and misogynistic’ which like, doesn’t go well for her but she’s nothing if not stubborn

She’s fluent in French because of her mom but she doesn’t know that until she gets to camp and is genuinely so pissed off that the one school subject she thought she was good at isn’t even on her own merit

She’s got some vague appearance manipulation stuff, and once she realizes she does she exclusively uses it to change her hair color and make her eyeliner look good

She’s probably like camp way more if she knew about it earlier but the combo of her had having kept it from her and who her mom is and all the stupid games/worship expectations piss her off and she bails on most of the events/training/campfires out of spite

She definitely uses some close up weapon like a dagger or short sword

Grace Chastity:

Grace is a daughter of Ares 

(Her finding this out goes very poorly)

Im ngl i feel like somehow Ares ended up with Mark Chastity, I refuse to examine this thought but i think Mark Chastity had his first gay experience and woke up the next morning with a baby there somehow because Ares thought it would be hilarious and wanted to see what would happen

She gets chased to camp with Steph from Abstinence Camp and is fucking livid, the whole thing is insanely scareligious and ridiculous and everyone there is going to hell and she is so heated that Ares, once again thinking it’s really funny and slightly proud, claims her on the spot

Grace Chastity is out here with her sacreligious two gay dads

She really resents specifically who her dad is because in her head she is made for peace and love and spreading the word of god, she hates the idea of war or violence on principal, so she spends a lot of time at the strawberry fields or Pegusus stables because she does really like the flying horses :)

She refuses to take place in any camp activities or training and all her siblings hate her

At a certain point she’s able to harness a level of odikinesis (enhancing feelings of hatred and war) and it doesn’t go well

Chiron honestly is forcing her to stick around because he’s REALLY so very nervous about how the fuck it would go to have Grace loose on the mortal world right after she finds everything else

Her weapon is an axe

Obviously

AND THEN we’ve got the established campers-

Peter Spankoffski:

Okay so forgive me for my special little blorbo-fication of my guy but:

Pete’s a son of Nyx

He super fucking shouldn’t be, there aren’t demi-god children of Nyx, just monsters and minor gods, but him and Ted were kind of just… thought experiments? Like she was bored and very curious so she took a really shitty human and had a child with him (Ted) and then, in what Nyx’s head was barely any time at all but in human years was straight up 18 years, has another one (Pete)

Ted raises Pete for a couple years, but children of Nyx in general are just bad omens, and human children of Nyx who probably shouldn’t exist are no exception, so they get hunted down by monsters hard

Ted dies or disappears by the time Pete’s ten or eleven and he ends up at a camp

He’s a year round camper and lives in the hermes cabin because obviously Nyx doesn’t have a cabin (look okay i know that percy fixed that, but that bit of lore where any unclaimed or minor god children live at the hermes cabin is so fucked up and rife with angst and hurt/comfort potential is too much for me to resist so this is a universe where percy jackson does not exist)

His luck is horrible, like it’s a magical demigod ability how horrible his luck is and he’s well on his way to systematically having broken every single one of his bones one by one, they know him so well in the apollo cabin

NO ONE (and I mean NO ONE) likes him and he’s considered a camp wide jinx so he takes one for the team and personally exempts himself from any team events like capture the flag because no one is willing to have him on their side

A lot of newer campers generally assume he’s an Athena kid because he really enjoys learning/strategy/by-the-book stuff because it’s a lot easier than trying to get involved with the more dangerous athletic shit 

Because his mom is the goddess of night he’s very into outer space

His weapon is a bow and arrow, but he’s pretty good with most range weapons/anything that he can calculate aim for 

Ruth Fleming:

Ruth is a daughter of Demeter and she’s pissed about it

Her dad told her about being a demigod a couple years before she went to camp but he didn’t know who her mom was so she got very very into greek mythos and shit and was convinced she was a daughter of Athena or Aphrodite or someone else nine-year-old-girl-cool and was fucking devestated when it was the goddess of farming

Like, she’ll do all the things she’s expected to (helping in the strawberry fields, weeding, etc..) but she’s going to complain about it

She doesn’t even have any cool powers to go with it!!! it’s so unfair >:( 

She’s also involved with the camp’s theater department and is convinced it’s rigged against her because of who her mom is in favor of Apollo and Dionysus kids (in fairness…. it probably is) which is why she’s always stuck on tech 

She’s definitely got a crush of Richie’s dad

She’s a summer only camper for sure, monsters don’t hunt her down for any reason in particular or en mass so she can get away with it and fight off the ones that do, but she does kind of take offense to the fact that even monsters don't want her (even if they’d just kill her) 

Her childhood greek mythology obsession carries over so she knows every dumb little detail about every myth and will bring it up unprompted

Her main weapon is just a celestial bronze sword but i feel like when she first got to camp at 12 she bribed a child of Iris to change the color of it so it looks like… rose gold lmao

Richie Lipschitz:

Richie is a son of Dionysus

And sure, okay, I know what you're thinking: that doesn’t really fit…?

But to that I say oh boy it does, just not for Richie

For his twin brother Trevor however– 

Richie is kind of like the black sheep of his cabin, not that there is many of them, because his brother is perfectly cookie cutter what a Dionysis kid should be (he’s a theater kid, he throws good parties, he’s generally popular) and Richie is not

They both started camp at probably 10-ish, a little earlier than traditional because there were two of them which drew more monsters

His eyes are violet though which he thinks is very cool so he dyes his hair purple to match them

He sorta-kinda has chlorokinesis, specifically for grape and strawberry vines, which a. he also thinks is very cool, and b. he uses as an excuse to get out of training so he can hang out with Ruth

He's also really good at swimming and trying to work up the courage to ask his dad if he'd possibly be able to grant him the ability to turn into a dolphin but just like... only when he wanted tot and he could turn back

He really wishes his was an Apollo kid (though, obviously he’d never say that out loud) because of the artistic stuff, so he sort of just tries to gaslight everyone that because his dad is the god of the Arts that includes physical art like drawing so obviously that’s why he’s good at it

He’s a summer-only camper too but for the dumbest reason; their parents gave the twins a choice, but Trevor wanted to be able to go back to school to do school plays and Richie can’t watch anime at camp so they chose summer only

His weapon is just a normal sword but he’s campaigning to get a child of Hephaestus to make him a Katana

(They’re all three kind of outcasts in terms of their own godly parents, because Ruth and Richie don’t really fit the mold of ‘normal child of [blank]’ and Pete’s kind of just generally disliked because of his parentage, so they all sort of came together as friends out of necessity but now they’re just actually buddies and they hang out)

anyway who knows if ill do anything with this but its FUN and id love to talk about it forever they're just little demigod losers I love them

#npmd #percy jackon and the olympians #stephanie lauter #grace chasity #peter spankoffski #ruth fleming #richie lipschitz #im THINKIN ABOUT THEM #id love to write something with them but we'll see if I can think of a full plot #pjo #nerdy prudes must die #starkid

[billthedrake]

I was inspired by the latest hot story by @maturedadsandmen. He gave me the blessing to write a riff on the premise. It started out as a prequel but became something else. Thanks to him for the inspiration and for the permission to let me adapt his idea.

WHAT HAPPENS IN FRANKFURT

"So, Trent..." I said as we settled into the business-class seats on the transatlantic leg of our flight. "Whadya have to promise Becky to get to come for a week?"

My friend and golf buddy shrugged. He's a big guy, 6'5", real muscular with a good deal of middle aged padding on his thick, ex-jock beef. Good thing I had scored the plush seats with my miles, because I couldn't imagine the poor guy squeezing into economy. Even now in his jeans and button-down shirt, the sight of him got me going. From the twinkle in his eyes, I could tell he was maybe feeling the same about me.

"It's not a week," he corrected.

"Pretty close," I smiled. We were flying to Frankfurt for the Chiefs-Dolphins game, but tacking on a few days in Bavaria for the typical guy-trip stuff. Beer halls and outdoors time. Stuff our wives had no interest in.

"I didn't have to promise Becky anything... what, is that something Heather expects?" he asked with genuine surprise.

I nodded. "Fuck yeah, that's something she expects," I said. "She's already planning the Napa wine trip."

Trent smiled. He had a personality that was laid back almost to the point of being taciturn, so I always found him especially handsome when he smiled.

Yeah, me and Trent have a thing. A sexual connection, an affair, whatever you want to call it. Sometimes we talk about it, sometimes we sweep the complications under the rug. But it had been a solid six months since our last time having sex and with the prospect of this trip together for six days, there was just this unspoken sexual tension between us. SOMETHING was gonna happen, all right.

"Didn't she just do that for one of her girls trips?" my friend chuckled.

Our wives got along OK but weren't close friends outside of my and Trent's bond. I was always surprised that Trent was able to keep up with my wife's doings.

"Oh yeah," I said. "Only she wants to go back with just me. You know, do something romantic. I don't even wanna know how much the cases of wine are gonna set me back."

That got a belly laugh out of my buddy. It was a running joke between us. He was the hunky ex-football player who ran his own construction company. I was the number-crunching corporate exec who admittedly had the MUCH deeper bisexual streak, to the point I carried around a lot of what-ifs in my middle age. But I was the one who was more bro-ish. Maybe I wasn't quite the sexist asshole I played up, but Trent gave me some real eye rolls from time to time.

"You can afford it, buddy," he chastised me. "And a lot fucking more."

I started to reply but he held up a finger in warning. "Don't you even pull that 'happy wife, happy life' BS." He was smirking.

"Dude... you gonna bust my balls this whole trip?"

I saw a naughty look sweep across my buddys masculine, handsome face as he leaned. "Whaddya think, Josh?"

I bit my lip and did as casual a crotch adjustment as I could. Trent had given me a full-on boner.

I knew Trent was chubbed too. It had been THAT long since we'd fooled around. Sometimes it was lack of opportunity, but my buddy likes to put the breaks on a lot. Probably for the best, since I had zero self-control, around him or in general. When I was 35 I had to vow never to go to Vegas again. This affair had a different kind of high stakes, but it felt like an extension of my addictive personality.

But my hunky buddy was pulling back now, putting in his earbud and pulling up his iPad to watch some shows he'd downloaded.

I had a book. Some stupid spy novel that let me get my mind off of work. Trent teased me for bringing the office with me, and on the first leg I'd caught up on a bunch of emails. I'd have more stuff to do in Germany, but I'd worry about that later. Trent told me I should set boundaries with my company, but hell it was my work travel that was getting us these business class seats and the hotel rooms on points and I'd probably cover the majority of our meals, too...

I took a breath and paused. I had this dickish thing where I'd enjoy treating people in my life - spoiling my wife or picking up the tab with my buddies - then I'd get resentful or controlling. I was lucky to have a travel buddy like Trent. Even if we didn't suck or fuck at all this next week. Though God knows I hope we did.

I put on my noise-canceling headphones and picked up my book.

****

"You gentlemen here for the game?" the concierge asked.

I'd booked us at a chain hotel in the old city. The guy at the desk was in the typical hotel uniform - vest and tie - and I was immediately attracted to him. Early 30s I'd guess, light brown hair, almost boyish in his handsome looks, though he had the kind of athletic build that comes with doing sports, maybe soccer, or rock climbing or something. I had a soft spot for German guys, I'll admit. They always seemed to have that boy next door thing going on, with a naughty side beneath.

Or maybe it was just the slightly clipped, more formal accent.

"Yes, sir," Trent said. "You got a lot of folks in town for it, I suppose." It was a trip to see my not-so-chatty buddy get all Midwest now that he was abroad.

I couldn't tell if the desk man was trying to humor us, but he replied back to Trent's small talk with a smile. "It seems so, yes."

I felt like I had to pull Trent away. He was asking for restaurant and bar recommendations, asking for the guy's first name, the whole works.

"What?" he asked, not quite annoyed as I shook my head in the elevator.

"Dude, you don't know how much I'm looking forward to a hot shower. Wash some of that jet lag off."

He seemed contrite. "You should have told me buddy. I honestly didn't think we'd get into the room early." It was nearly noon, but we were ahead of check-in time a little.

"I guess it'll be good to stretch the legs some this afternoon, get in some sun and fresh air?"

He nodded. "Looks like a nice day."

We rolled our luggage down to our rooms and entered the clean but soulless business hotel room.

"You go first," he said. "I'm gonna call Becky and let her know we're here." I knew from Trent's account that his wife was an early riser, a yoga devotee who got an early start on her day. I'd text Heather in a bit and call her later.

"Yep," I said, already pulling off my sweatshirt and kicking off my sneakers.

The shower felt good. No, it felt great. I could have stood under for much longer, but I didn't want to hold things up. I rinsed the shampoo out of my hair and turned off the water. I was just as quick drying off and putting product in my hair. I took one look in the mirror. Not so bad for 46, I thought. I'd gotten into Crossfit lately and tried to eat clean, saving beer and junk food for game days or the nineteenth hole with the guys. I was shorter than Trent, 5'9" and some, even if I rounded up to 5'10" when I told people my height. Everything was looking pretty sculpted and hard and compact, and the thick blond fur on my torso was groomed and trimmed.

"You fucking narcissist," I thought. I wrapped the towel around my waist and opened the door, letting the steam out.

"Damn, that felt nice," I said to Trent. He was waiting for me, stripped down to his boxer briefs. It took me a second to realize what was in his hand, but it was a portable enema kit.

"I know you wanna hit the sights, buddy... but maybe I can clean out for you, first?" he asked. An excited glint in his eye but also some embarrassment. It had taken some convincing to get my hunky friend to bottom for me and even more sweet talking to get him to do a deeper prep. But it turns out Trent loved getting his ass eaten out, and he knew I'd go at it more freely and fervently if he was squeaky clean.

"God yes," I said. "I guess vacation starts for real, huh?" I said. Already I was chubbing beneath the towel.

He nodded with a grin, clearly excited by how easily I got turned on.

I let him do his thing while I texted Heather and answered a couple of work emails. I set down my phone and took off my towel, hanging it up in the closet. I pulled down the sheets on one of the double beds. My dick wasn't hard at first but as I lay down naked, I thought of Trent's hunky ass and meaty body. I thought of the reception guy and what it would be like to watch him and Trent go at it before I came in and fucked that German stud hard and fast from behind.

I was rock hard now. I thought of picking my phone back up and scrolling through some porn but decided I'd enjoy the more purely mental excitement I was filling. Just enjoy the moment of being in a hotel room with my good buddy and sometimes fuck buddy. For a whole week. I shut my eyes and let my sexual fantasies visualize themselves.

"Dang," I heard, snapping my eyes open. Maybe I'd been dozing some, but apparently my prick wasn't. "I never get sick of seeing that cock of yours."

I'm not huge, but I'm big, and my endowment looks bigger on my frame. I smiled and spread my legs, showing my meat off to Trent.

"OK if I suck it first?" he said, stepping up. In the big mitt of his right hand he had a small bottle of lube, which he set on the night stand.

"When have I ever said no to that?" I asked.

"Bro," Trent retorted, "You're such an ass-man... you can have a one-track mind sometimes." I felt defensive and I was gonna say something, but Trent got on all fours and crawled toward me. He was such a big guy, tall and beefy, that it was never anything short of mind-blowing to see him in such a posture. Already his hand was on my quad muscle, rubbing it in a way that sent electricity right to my boner. "It's OK bud. It's a good look on you," he said in a hushed, sexy voice.

Then he leaned forward to get a closer look at my crotch. Inches away close, and I could feel his breath on my dong. Trent's brown eyes were on my dick, only flitting up to my face occasionally.

"What happens in Frankfurt, right?" he growled.

"Fuck yeah," I hissed. When I started up with my buddy, I just thought I was scratching that bisexual itch. And yeah it was naughty fun. Clearly I fantasized about other men, too. But I was coming face to face with the reality that no one turned me on so much or so effortlessly like my 52 year old friend.

His first licks were a get-reacquainted approach. It had been a while since he'd taken care of me. I sucked him too, and on a blue moon bottomed for the stud. But this is what we did the first time we fooled around, and it felt like our own private anniversary ritual.

"That's it, buddy," I hissed. Trent had that combo of not-quite-skilled and very enthusiastic that appealed to me more than I realized. Outside of my times with Trent, I'd only had dude sex a couple times behind Heather's back, and those guys were better cocksuckers. But not better, you know? They weren't Trent Grayson.

My buddy coughed some on my dick as he swallowed more. Not a gag, but a grunt that said he was fighting back that initial reflex. Instantly my fingers went to the back of his neck. "Easy, bro... you got this."

He did, too. After that initial shock, he was working more of me into his gullet, over and over, faster and faster.

"FUCK!" I gasped, my eyes wide as I watched my best bud deep throat me with silky steady mouth strokes. "Buddy... if you don't let up," I warned, my breath ragged. I normally wasn't this quick at the draw, but I hadn't gotten off the last couple of days. My balls were drawn up tight.

Trent spit me out, a satisfied smile on his face. He knew he'd done a great job.

"You been practicing?" I asked. "You haven't done THAT before," I said.

"I may have gotten a toy to work on," he admitted with a wink.

"Yeah?" I asked, my chest heaving in excitement. My dick was twitching in time with my heartbeat. "When was that, bud?"

Those brown eyes were hungry and playful and sexy as fuck. "When we booked this trip."

"And here I was worried I was gonna push up against some boundaries with you this week," I said.

Trent nodded and leaned up. He was excited all right, his medium-sized tool rock hard and wet at the tip. My buddy had a beefy build that was something shy of a dad bod, but he was real and muscled head to toe, and his size meant he carried the mid-section girth well. "You probably will," he answered honestly. "Hell, I know you well, Josh," he added.

"Yeah," I admitted. Chastised some. I was the one of us who got carried away. But this man was so incredible, body and soul.

Trent didn't seem too fazed. Or maybe the sexual heat was winning out. He turned to face away from me so I could see that broad back, that short hair cut with the gray fringe and the balding spot on top, that round daddy ass fitting a tall, athletic man.

That ass was backing up toward, the buns getting closer. Trent didn't shave down there, he somehow naturally had a smooth ass, except for deep in the crack.

"You gonna...?" I asked. Or started to ask. Already the big guy was leaning forward and spreading his legs, opening that crevice right up for my gaze. Softly furry with that neglected crinkled pucker in the center, freshly cleaned for me.

My hands were already on his butt doing the rest of the work to part the cheeks as I dove in.

"Oh god yes," Trent hissed. "I've been thinking about this... so much."

I licked softly at first. Giving some gentle kisses beween a more exploratory approach to his hole and trench. Then I gripped his ass more tightly and started drilling in. I couldn't even say I was an expert at rimming. I just loved it and went at it, hard. Slurping and sucking. Munching and tonguing. Alternating my moves in part because I just fricking loved it all.

Trent loved it too. I still think he had hang ups when it came to anal. I know I did. We were two men unwilling to relinquish what we considered the more masculine role. I'd probably put up with his misgivings this week, and he might try to break down my hesitation to bottom. We'd see. For now, though, it was clear that I was even more into eating out a male cunt than actual pussy, and Trent enjoyed the oral treatment to his hole.

Finally, I pulled back, practically growling into his spit wet trench. "Dude, I gotta be in you. Now."

I expected some pushback, but instead Trent was scrambling his big body. Moving forward and pivoting around. His prick was outright dripping now, a thin strand of clear sap swayed from his tip. I wondered how many days he'd held off from sex or jerking off.

Hurriedly he reached over and got some lube in his palm, eagerly reaching back behind. "Let me ride," he said. "It's been a while."

I nodded and rode out a deep couple of breaths while he lined my prick up to his wet buns and settled back on me.

The initial penetration stung some for him, but quickly he relaxed.

"That's nice," he muttered as he sank down a couple more inches. He got a grin on his face. "I love how hard you get, Josh."

"Jesus buddy," I hissed. I'd had to sweet talk him into barebacking a little over a year ago. Now, every time I entered him was pure bliss. Silky, warm, and drum-tight. "I'm like that everytime I'm with you."

"I know," Trent replied. "I fucking love it." He settled further back and my cock popped past the last bit of tightness. Suddenly, Trent was sitting all the way in my lap and his guts were gripping my boner in spasms.

"You good?" I asked with concern. But a little hesitant to ask, because this was all VERY good for me.

"Yep," he said. He reached down and wrapped his lubey fist around his hard on, smearing this own sap to add to the slickness. His initial strokes made his ass clench down tighter on me, then the self pleasuring helped his body relax into it.

Within a minute of settling down on me, Trent began to lift his burly body up off my dick a couple of inches, only to swivel back down.

This was the almost feminine part of our mating that Trent felt self conscious about. Working my bone with a slutty hip motion. But I'd told him that starting slower is much better for me, and it turned out to be better for Trent, letting him build up the stimulation of his prostate as we locked eyes.

Our fuck was silent now, other than the sloshy slick sounds where his ass connected to my dick and the soft bounce of the bed. Trent's a heavy man, in the mid 200s on the scale, and my dense muscle added to it, too.

I watched him get into it, watch the pleasure grow on his face. This is what surprised me with Trent. I thought sex with dudes was simply about getting my rocks off, but I loved giving this man pleasure. Giving him an orgasm. I was about to give him one now.

"You're getting close," he said in his deep gravely voice. Not a question. Trent could read it on my face, register my impending cum before I did.

"Oh yeah," I hissed. It was arriving fast now, that crest of pleasure, like an ocean swell that breaks right in front of you. My fingers gripped his hard quads, maybe a little too hard, just seconds before I felt his hot spray of semen jet onto my bare chest muscle. Then another, then another. All heavy wads of bleachy-floral seed raining onto me. I was pounding out a mammoth load from this beautiful man.

My own cock was firing now, matching Trent's in its heaviness. "Fuck!" I whimpered. Trent sometimes teased me for the way my voice would get higher pitched when I came. But our nearly simultaneous O meant we were synched in our lust and deep connection.

Finally Trent's hips slowed and he eased off. Some semen came out on the dismount but he clenched up to stop the rest as he plopped down on the spare side of the bed. The double mattress didn't hold out two big bodies easily, Trent's especially but he kind of snuggled up to me in an uncharacteristic intimacy and rested his face on my shoulder. Lazily his hands ran along my torso, smearing his own cum into my chest fur.

"You have an incredible body, Josh," he said.

My dick hadn't gone down. I was drained and not ready to fuck again or anything, but I was still pretty keyed up. I kissed his forehead. I didn't want to push the guy too far but figured he'd initiated this closeness. "Yeah?" I asked. I knew we enjoyed a physical chemistry, but Trent had never complimented me like this, even though I sometimes gushed over his body.

He ran his hand down my ripped abs. I didn't have the body of a 26 year old, but I kept my core tight and knotted.

"I've been afraid to tell you," he said.

"Really?" I asked. Trent didn't seem to be afraid of things.

"You can get a little conceited," he said, brusquely.

This was the Trent-and-Josh thing. Teasing each other. Humble guy and the corporate exec. But something about his words seemed to cut deeper. "I don't know what to say," I said softly.

He patted my stomach. "You're you, Josh. I understand ya, buddy. And I know I'm not easy to get along with." His hand drifted lower and wrapped around my cock, which was still rigid as just a minute earlier. "In all fairness, you have good reason to be conceited."

I wanted to kiss this guy, so bad, but that was against our bro code. "If I get to be too much, buddy..." I started. "Well, I just don't want this week to be weird."

Trent looked up. "It's not gonna be weird, Josh. Football... beer... hot steamy hotel sex... what more can you want?"

"Nothing, man," I growled. I enjoyed the soft touch of his hand as he explored my dick. Finally with a sigh, I spoke up, "I will absolutely fall asleep if we keep lying here... maybe get out for a bit?"

Trent didn't answer but just scooted away from our tight embrace, edging his big tall body off the bed. I watched him walk to the bathroom to clean off.

Somehow, the spell had been broken.

#drakestories

[spiderbussy]

The Hating Game

Dylan O’Brien x Reader

WARNINGS: mentions of sex, steamy moments (but no smut), swearing, lots of anger/hatred, i think that’s all??

i wrote this a whole year ago and dug it up from deep in the drafts and it’s not entirely awful so i figured i might as well publish??? also edited whilst watching some killer shark movie LMFAOO so it might be a lot worse than i think jshsjs,, quick PSA tho: i dont rlly feel comfy writing for real people anymore, and i don’t like writing smut, so whilst this is relatively steamy there’s no actual smut in it :) hopefully someone enjoys lmfao

there is also a high likelihood that i will be deleting this soon bc i am Embarrassed

Being mortal fucking enemies with your co-worker is not exactly what you envisioned your first serious acting job to entail, but no one can have everything, you suppose. Like, it makes sense, from a realistic (OK, pessimistic) standpoint that getting hired to be a main character on a popular teen TV show with little to no acting experience and the only thing to your name being an apartment you’re about to get evicted out of for not paying your bills is exceedingly lucky. Like, come on, what are the fucking odds? And everyone knows that something so good is bound to be followed by something bad. In your case, something you consider the worst thing that could possibly happen to a person, and his name is Dylan O’Brien.

First off, you know. Dylan O’Brien. Every teenage girls wet dream. He’s a conventionally attractive white guy who respects women because he doesn’t actively spit on them! (You’re not saying he’s sexist, because you’re pretty sure that’s not why he hates you, it’s just because he’s tasteless and a dick.)

Here’s the thing, though. Ever since you started this job, he’s had it out for you. Like, genuinely, he’s fucking evil and is trying to ruin your life. Why is this? You have no clue, only that you hate him back equally as much, if not more.

What really sucks, though, is that this is the guy who’s playing your love interest. At first, this wasn’t even really a problem for you (only to your controlling ex-boyfriend — good fucking riddance, by the way), but it became one when you overheard Dylan actively begging the shows head writer and producer, Jeff, to cancel that plot and then storming off like a complete and utter wankstain when he was denied.

Your character's first kiss scene has had to be filmed at least a million times by now, and the crew is starting to really get pissed off by it, which, like, fair enough, you are too, but it’s not your fault you and Dylan can’t even pretend to be romantically interested in each other for five minutes! The scene itself isn’t even the problem, you’ve nailed that, it’s the kiss. The gentle, loving kiss your characters are supposed to share, and Jeff is an asshole and every time he’d yell at you and Dylan you’d both just get more and more pissed at each other, and the kiss would get progressively more and more heated and angry with every retake.

That’s where you’re at now, bordering on eating each other’s faces (excuse you while you yack!) as Jeff yells “cut!” for the fifty-millionth time. You and Dylan instantly spring apart, awkwardly avoiding eye contact as Jeff sighs. Using the back of your hand, you wipe your mouth, only to pull it back to find blood. Literal fucking blood.

“Did you bite me, you fucking pervert?” you whisper-yell at Dylan so that the crew aren’t prone to any more unprofessional behavior you exhibit. The stinging in your lip grows more profound, and you scoff. “Oh my fucking God, you bit me.”

Dylan smirks, shrugging his shoulders as he glares back at you tenfold. He’s oozing this nonchalant smugness, and you feel more pissed at him than ever.

“How the hell was that ‘gentle’ or ‘loving’!?” you continue quietly yelling at him as Jeff talks with the rest of the crew, his hands rubbing over the creases on his forehead.

Dylan’s smirk falls, as he glares at you with incredulity, “How was pulling my hair like, five minutes ago, any more ‘gentle’ or ‘loving’?!” he spits back.

Part of you wants to admit that that was genuinely an accident, but, like, whatever. Dylan would probably take it the wrong way, interpreting it as you being kinky and attracted to him. “OK,” you say instead, “act like you didn’t moan when I did that, you freak.”

“I moaned in pain,” he argues, eyebrows scrunched and a fire in his eyes as he unconsciously steps towards you.

You open your mouth, ready to retort with another remark with the intent to insult him, but Jeff’s voice quickly cuts the two of you off. “OK, guys, it’s been a long day but we’re gonna try it again,” he breathes out, rubbing his hands together before he suddenly stops, eyes narrowing in on your lip. “Jesus, OK, what the hell, your lip is bleeding Y/N.”

“Sorry about that,” Dylan smirks, poorly feigning being apologetic. And this guy’s supposed to be an actor, Jesus Christ.

“Right,” Jeff sighs, so obviously done with the both of you as you glare daggers at Dylan, which only seems to widen his smirk. “Um, OK, so this time… Dylan, try not to eat Y/N, OK? And, guys, try not to step on each other’s feet… or kick each other… the camera may not be able to see down there, but it shows, and we cab. Um, so, both of you…. just… gentle and loving, OK? This is supposed to be a sweet moment, your characters are comforting each other…. God, OK, let’s just try and get this over with.”

Admittingly, when Jeff speaks, you aren’t even really listening. You’re trying your best to hide the fact that you’re elbowing Dylan behind your back, and he’s aggressively standing on your toes. The both of you are glaring at each other from the corners of your eyes, paying Jeff little attention.

“And, reset!” Jeff calls, the both of you getting back into position. Dylan seemingly can’t help himself, though, because he steps on your heel as you walk away from him. Fucking asshole. You curse him out in your head as you try to hide your wince and sit on Stiles’ bed. He just always has to have the last word. It’s fucking childish.

You’re not paying attention as Jeff continues to call to the crew, ready for a retake. Instead, you’re glaring straight ahead, and Dylan is glaring back. The tension between the two of you dissipates quickly as Jeff yells “Action!” though, and you pretend to be upset as tears fill your eyes. You sniffle and Dylan walks over, slowly sinking himself down next to you. There’s a palpable distance between the two of you, one that’s closing slowly as Dylan, in character, awkwardly shuffles towards you, fidgeting all the while.

“What are you doing?” your character asks, looking at Dylan (Stiles) with soft, furrowed brows.

“Uhhh,” he stutters, “I just—trying to comfort you?”

“Oh,” your character says. “Right. I’m OK, though. Sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s alright.”

There’s silence for a moment, enough to be considered a moment too long, one that makes the air awkward. You aren’t looking at Jeff but you assume he’s relatively pleased, although this isn’t the part you and Dylan have been struggling with. It’s coming up, though.

Your breath audibly halters as Dylan’s tender fingers brush your hair out of your face, tucking it behind you ear. His character is closer than you thought, as you turn to face him. His fingers are lingering in your hair, coming to hesitantly cup the side of your face as you meet his gaze. There’s barely even three centimeters between your faces, and your character's eyes are flicking down to his lips constantly, as though she can’t help herself.

“Can I…” Dylan‘s charachter trails off, gulping. “Can I—is it alright if I kiss—?”

You cut him off, quickly leaning in to place a peck on his lips.

“…You,” he breathes out, his eyes widened as he looks thoroughly perplexed.

Your character bites her lip, looking down at her hands before shooting up. “Sorry. I’m—I probably shouldn’t have done that. Sorry. I’ll go.” As quickly as you stand up, though, Dylan grabs your hand.

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, and when you turn around to face him his hands are cupping your cheeks again and you’re kissing. It’s gentle and soft until his finger tugs a strand of your hair, and then all of a sudden your hands are in Dylan’s hair roaming through them and tugging and, next thing you know, you’re tonguing and Dylan’s hand is wrapped around your throat.

“OK, cut!” Jeff screeches, and the two of you practically scramble away from each other. “What the hell, guys? You were doing so well until then. I just… Let’s take another five, I guess. No, actually, screw it, we’ll pick this back up tomorrow.”

Jeff storms off, and not only are you pissed at Dylan now, you’re ashamed. The both of you have been acting unprofessional all day, just because Dylan is a fucking child. If he gets you fired… You’re gonna kill him. Fucking murder him. Shit on his mutilated corpse.

Glaring at him, you shove his side as you storm off to go back to your trailer and calm down. You need to sleep because tomorrow is an early shoot and it’s already late, and now you probably won’t be able to because you’re pissed and stressed and worried.

Unfortunately for you, there’s a pattern of thudding footsteps on the ground before Dylan catches up to you. “Jesus, can you slow down?” he rasps. “What the hell did I even do now?”

“Are you fucking serious, O’Brien?” you whirl around, only to be met with him much closer than you anticipated. “I could get fired ‘cause of your immature ass.”

“Oh, my immature ass?” he scoffs. “Do you even hear yourself?”

With a roll of your eyes, you turn around and continue on your merry way to your trailer. You want to get away from Dylan, desperately, before you end up punching him, but he doesn’t seem to be getting the hint and is hot on your heels.

“You’re the one always calling me a dick and shit, insulting me, starting stuff. I mean, I have bruises on my back from you elbowing me just a minute ago.” You’re at your trailer now, after blocking out Dylan’s ranting in your ear, but you only just open the door before he continues, “What, you mad ‘cause no one else ever dishes back what you put out? Sorry not everyone just accepts your word as gospel, princess.”

“First of all, fuck you,” you spit. You’re giving him the attention and reaction he wants, but you don’t even care. You’re that pissed off. “Second of all, me, the princess? Holy shit, O’Brien, you’re delusional. You had a go at me today because I ate the last mac ‘n cheese, even though your name wasn’t on it. You think everything belongs to you because everybody loves you. News flash, it doesn’t, and they don’t. They just suck up to you because you’re a rich white guy with an army of teenage girls behind you.”

“Sounds like you’re just jealous to me,” Dylan shrugs, trying to pretend he’s unaffected but the stiffness in his shoulders is entirely obvious. “I mean, come on, let’s be honest here, you’re used to getting everything, to being the favourite, but the moment someone else gets attention you go fucking haywire. Or maybe you’re just in love with me. You say you hate me but, come on, everyone knows there’s a thin line between love and hate.”

“Me? Love you?” You scoff, laughing aggressively. “Only one of us choked the other as they shoved their tongue down their throat today.”

“Choked you?” Dylan snorts. “You wish. I merely placed my hand in the wrong place. It was an accident, Y/L/N. You know, like you.”

“Oh, good one. You really got me there, Dyl.” The sarcasm is practically oozing out of your every pore at this point. “And your hand was around my neck. How do you accidentally do that?”

“I was aiming for your other cheek, but you were tugging on my hair so much I could barely fucking see,” he retorts.

“Oh, sure. You were aiming for my cheek and you just accidentally slipped your hand right like this,” you say, sliding your hand around Dylan’s throat to demonstrate, lightly pushing him against the wall.

“Yeah, maybe like how you accidentally kept going like this,” Dylan says, his eyes narrowed into slits as he stares straight into yours, his fingers sliding through your hair before gripping and yanking.

“I hate you,” you breathe, your gazes re-aligning. The distance between the two of you is minimal at this point, and there’s an angry hornets nest in your stomach that you blame on your insatiable anger and hatred of this man in front of you.

“Fight me,” he spits, eyes boring into yours and not breaking contact for even a second.

“Oh, you wanna fight?” You challenge, mocking him.

“Fuck you,” he spits again, violently frustrated.

“Oh, you wanna fuck?” You were supposed to say it with a laugh, but the distance between the two of you is so small, and your voice sounds so quiet, and his eyes are looking at yours like that, and it suddenly sounds so reasonable… The two of you are kissing, but it doesn’t feel like kissing. It feels like more. It doesn’t start gentle and slow, like the ones you were doing for the camera earlier, it starts violent and angry as you communicate every ounce of hatred from one body to another.

Dylan’s foot juts out, his hands sliding down your body as he kicks the door to the trailer shut. Immediately, you push him up against the closed door, hands sliding into his hair as his hands come up to cup your cheeks with vigor.

“I knew you were into that,” he groans, smirking.

“Shut the fuck up,” you retort, forcing his head back down to yours so your lips can re-meet. His laugh cuts off into a moan as you pull his hair, and he suddenly flips the two of you around, parting your legs with his foot as his hands cup your ass.

The next day, you drag yourself into hair and makeup, ashamed. You know Sam, your makeup artist, is gonna want to kill you for all the goddamn hickies on your neck. Honest to god, it looks like you’ve just crawled out a leech-infested lake.

“Jesus Christ, girl,” Sam gasps as you take your usual seat. “You get mauled or something?”

The woman lifts your hair as she peers at your marked-up neck, assessing the damage. She seems more amused than pissed off, thankfully, but it does nothing to quell your embarrassment. You just hope you didn’t mark Dylan up as much as he did you, or else someone might just put the pieces together. You do not want people thinking your standards are low enough to sleep with him—they might think you’re some sex-crazed satanist if they know you fucked the devil last night.

“Yeah, something like that,” you sigh, irritation lining your tone. It just so happens that, at that moment, the trailer door opens and in comes Dylan. Your eyes meet immediately, just as they always have done when the two of you have found yourselves in the same room. You glare, but you find it’s half-hearted and, unlike usual, he looks away and goes over to his own seat, seemingly searching for something.

Huh.

“You gotta tell me who did this to you,” Sam whistles, still in shock, apparently. “Slip ‘em my number, maybe.”

You can’t see Dylan entirely, his back half-turned to you, but you see the corner of his lips turn up as he tries to suppress a smirk.

“You know what they say about guys who put on a show,” you shrug, eyes narrowed in Dylan’s direction. He’s pretending to search for his phone still, but you saw him slip it into his pocket already. Nosey fucker. “It’s a little somethin’ called overcompensation.”

Sam lets out a loud cackle, turning to grab something out of her bag, and Dylan, done with pretending to look for his phone, whirls his head around to give you a subtle glare and a raised eyebrow, a smug look on his face like he knows you’re lying. (Which you, very begrudgingly, have to admit to yourself that you are.)

You hate Dylan. Despise him, even. More than you’ve ever hated anyone; you can rationalize why last night happened easily enough. The amount of hatred and tension and the pressure from Jeff to get that scene right all blew up. That much emotion had to be exhausted somewhere, and, well, it was. It was a blip in the timeline, some kind of glitch in the matrix, but it happened and there’s an easy explanation. What there’s not an easy explanation for, however, is why you liked it so much. Why you’re lying, trying to pretend it wasn’t nearly as good as it was, trying to pretend you’re not still thinking about how it felt to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him… There is no logical explanation for that.

In fact, it’s entirely illogical, the mushy way you feel inside when you met his eyes, covered with a glare that you wish had half the hate in it that it normally does. It’s weird and it’s wrong, because you’re not supposed to have butterflies when you think of the way his hand had caressed your face, the way he ran his fingers through your hair, the way his arms felt, wrapped around you. You’re supposed to be revolted.

He’s smug and he’s pompous and you cannot stand him, let alone stand the thought of kissing him. And yet, although you hate the fact that the thought exists, you yearn for it. You find yourself excited, even, to go to set and get yelled at by Jeff because you simply cannot help yourselves when it comes to one another. You hate it, every second of it, every second of him. You think you hate him so much you might actually love him. And with the wink he sends over his shoulder as he leaves the trailer, eyes dark as they peer at the hickies Sam is frantically trying to cover up, you think he does, too.

#dylan obrien #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien x reader #stiles stilinski #teen wolf #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien x reader

[ultfreakme]

Thoughts on Jessie Gender's video on NATLA

I really admire Jessie Gender's videos usually, she's the one whom I usually go to to see videos on gender and queerness in media. I like her stuff a lot and respect their work.

But the NATLA video left me going "no, wait, that's not what happened" a lot. I can't summarize the video, I suggest people go watch it if they want to know but I disagree with practically everything for the most part.

I'm not anybody on the internet. But what I do have is a lifetime of growing up on ATLA, a degree in Sociology and English Literature, coming from a culture that ATLA is based on, studying about colonial rule, researching the cultures ATLA is based on in my spare time and a love for the original. Does that establish some legitimacy? If for some reason you feel like you need to go hate on Jessie for this, DON'T. DO NOT. This is me just critiquing because I think the video content was biased and I want to honestly engage with the points made because everyone has a tendency to demonize the adaption without looking at it on its own merit. With that said:

Point 1: Sokka's sexism is taken out to make the show more palatable and his arc in the Kyoshi Island episode undermines Suki to prop up Sokka.

She says that Sokka's sexism and him addressing it is a show-long arc, and him deconstructing that is him fighting against the colonial sexism of the Fire Nation.

Sokka's sexism is explicitly dealt with in one episode. He's shown to be overtly sexist in the first 4 and never again except for little comments here and there that every other character makes as well and goes unaddressed. His sexism is not because of the Fire Nation- FN is very inclusive of women as warriors. Sokka's sexism is an anomaly because no one but him cares that Katara isn't just sitting home mending clothes(Bato, Hakoda, none of the men on the ship they are on in S3 say a word and she takes off to join Aang in the Fire Nation islands).

If Sokka's sexism is not systematic to the Southern Water Tribe or caused by the Fire Nation, what kind of commentary on sexism is this?

She also says Suki is played down and demured to give Sokka confidence when she's teaching him, taking away her arc as she pines for the new boy who she likes because he's shirtless. Sokka's throughout the episode shows insecurity and a more subtle form of sexism where he's trying ton prove he's as good as her. He's trying to show off his strength to her, and failing miserably and when he realizes she bested him, he walks away. He goes into it assuming he's better than her but walks away realizing shit she is GOOD. Then he goes to her dojo to observe the practice and follows along, Suki invites him in seeing him fucking up the forms outside and teaches him.

Suki falls for a tackle Sokka does in the og and live action. In the OG, it's shown as Sokka ACTUALLY being better. In the live action? He isn't. One lesson doesn't make him better, she transitions from actually teaching him to kinda flirting until she completely stops. She's not weakening herself for him, both of them are expressing romantic interest. How did Sokka, a boy who that morning was defeated by them, get better than SUKI in a spar she put genuine effort in? I think that's frankly more sexist than the live action take.

Additionally, Suki was meant to be a one-off character meant to teach Sokka that sexism is bad. She existed entirely to serve Sokka's character arc and had no independent motivation in season 1. In the live action, we see her talk about wanting to go into the world, and see her growing motivation through Aang's presence of wanting to not just protect Kyoshi Island, but the world. She became what she is only in season 2 and 3. Sokka's sexism arc didn't even pan out well because he never addressed the issue with Katara after that episode, the first and most affected victim of his sexism.

Sokka wearing the armor in the original, is a joke. Aang calls their uniform a dress while laughing (it's not, like it's not even constructed like one, the bottoms are loose pants called Hakama). He isn't put into the uniform to show solidarity, it's a joke, and we are meant to be laughing at Sokka for the most part. Queer fans have reclaimed and redefined that scene to be like drag, but that wasn't the original intention of the show because we get jokes on Aang's masculinity which never actively get refuted from Toph in season 2. Katara of all people points out Sokka wearing a poinytail in a demeaning manner multiple times, a supposedly girly hairstyle. If the original wanted to honor Sokka embracing gender fluidity, they wouldn't consistently mock him for being choosy about buying a bag and wearing a ponytail(which in-universe has cultural importance to him).

All signs of 'femininity' in Sokka are played for laughs in the rest of the show(down to the scene where he draws a rainbow, and his master Piandao simply rolls his eyes).

Sokka is also never once shown as a better warrior in the live action- his story is the opposite. Sokka yearns here to be an engineer, a scientist tinkering away with new inventions. His father Hakoda and the SWT discourages this because there is no value in that for them. Value is shown for them to come from physical strength, which Sokka NEVER has in live action season 1(him having biceps and being shirtless is not a glorification of strength). He's good, but he's nothing special. His true highlight is in his intellect and the show implies pretty well that Sokka doesn't need to be physically strong or a warrior to fight back against oppression.

That's his defining line in the show teasers "you do not need to be a warrior, to be a hero."

Point 2: The sexism arc isn't replaced by anything more nuanced.

It is! It's replaced by the biases against bending. Sokka discourages Katara from bending because the Fire Nation attacked the SWT to eliminate waterbenders. Both Katara and Sokka hold fear for waterbending, a part of their own culture, specifically because of the Fire Nation's hegemony and hierarchical beliefs. Waterbending = preservation of culture and Katara says these exact words in episode 1. Sokka stopping her is him being under the colonial hegemony of the FN because waterbending is what brought Fire Nation soldiers to their shores to kill their mom. That's the new arc and it has follow through to the end. Instead of Sokka telling Katara to kick ass because he isn't sexist anymore, the live action Sokka says it because he's embraced waterbending and his own culture now through seeing Katara grow and letting her choose for herself what's best for her (instead of smothering in his faux warrior persona, which they literally discuss when stuck in the cave). This arc is exclusive to the show, there's no comment on the cultural significance and erasure of waterbending in the original.

It's made more explicit in Katara's arc, where she needs to get past the fear the Fire Nation has put in her of the dangers of her own bending, and embrace that her people wanted to protect it (Kya sacrificing herself, Gran-Gran hiding the waterbending scroll).

Point 3: Showing the genocide of the Air Nomads is disrespectful

In the original, the Air Nomads are nothing but a memory. At all times. We never see the influence of the Air Nomad culture on Aang, or see them alive and thriving at any point. We see them fight back on the live action, and the actual genocide is a few short minutes, interspersed with Aang sinking. It's not a lingering process and it shows the abilities of Air Nomads. Jessie says this is purely aesthetic and to be cool, but there are significant moments that happen here.

Establishing the powers of Air Benders- this is the first and last time we'll get to see Air Bending on this scale and this shows what they can do

There's a scene where two air nomads nod to one another, and the air nomad switches from defensive to an extremely offensive move. It shows that this isn't typical for the Air Nomads, and that they are being pushed to their limits

This is a festival, they were defending themselves and it's important to show that the Air Nomads didn't just go silently without a fight and were ambushed on an important day.

To show the Fire Nation's cruelty and the extent of their power during the comet specifically.

To give weight to WHY everyone Aang runs into is so critical and hateful of the fact that he was gone, and to also show why Aang never refutes them and the weight of what he's lost (and also that even if he were there, he couldn't have done anything)

It's not just to be cool, it's honestly not cool to watch and taking Gordon Cormier, a child's quote to say that's what everyone's impression is, is disingenuous despite the disclaimer given. The kids' quotes always get taken out of context. Reviewers and Avatar fans who went to the premiere were disturbed overall by the violence. They did not think of the Fire Nation as "cool", they saw the Air Nomads like that. Like don't we want people to think of the Air Nomads in a positive light for fighting back?

Their culture gets little to no expansion in the original, and whatever Aang has left of them is actually slowly stripped away in the original.

Aang is made to okay the destruction and modification of the Northern Air Temple when destruction is shown as wrong during his rage and grief in the Southern Air Temple. The new settlers have used the gliders of Air Nomads to device weapons that fly, which were then sold to the Fire Nation. The Mechanist and his people continue this and create more weapons to fight the war in the temples(albeit this time agaisnt the fire nation but the cycle of violence continues using devices and cultures of a peaceful people). A once-peaceful place, is now a center for war innovation and Aang is told to accept this because he must let go of the past to look to the future.

The above, in comparison to Aang simply saying "I should let go of the past and look to the future" is FAR more disrespectful of Aang's culture and past. The live action keeps Gyatso's memory a constant companion to Aang, he is terrified of letting go of the past and it hinders him from simply living.

Point 4: Violence is shown as good and the cycle of violence is perpetuated.

She says Kyoshi demanding Aang to fight back and hit hard is showing that Aang needs to embrace strength and power. That everyone telling him to fight and be alone means strength is given importance, and that the same is shown when Zuko says "sometimes the weak can become strong, sometime you just have to give them a chance."

Kyoshi is wrong. She is willfully portrayed as powerful, but harsh. Roku(though his screentime was small) disagrees with her and tells Aang to find his own way of fighting and that is ultimately what Aang follows.

Kyoshi doesn't come off as correct, she's demanding and harsh, unforgiving. Aang initially lets her take over because he is scared of the power he holds and she promises she can control it to help others. Aang doesn't want power(he literally says 'I don't want these powers'). In the finale, he gives in to the ocean spirit and does what Kyoshi asks; save everyone, even if it costs his own life. But it is shown as a tragedy. Katara calls back for him and tells him he shouldn't have to sacrifice himself, that he has a place in this world as he is no matter what others tell him and he listens to THAT. He says he will save the world not alone, but with his friends, in the memory of the Air Nomads to ensure it never happens again.

Physical strength is only a priority to Katara's character. Sokka doesn't fight in the end, he's begging Yue to not sacrifice herself and is protecting her. He's not some macho man. Aang is also not embracing power.

Zuko says that line not to show that he can grow stronger, but that people should get second chances. He's a hurt kid wishing his father had the compassion to let him grow. But he doesn't and Zuko walks away from it thinking physical strength and bending prowess is important, crushing his compassion. That line on a meta level isn't even about physical strength. It's about mental fortitude and character, and the strength to be compassionate.

Jet was mentioned as being portrayed as more wrong, but in the original he was ready to sink a village of innocents. in the live action he genuinely helped Katara with her waterbending and was justified in wanting to kill the mechanist(who collaborated with the fire nation) and King Bumi (who is neutral, incompetent and has let the Fire Nation run rampant in the city). He's more sympathetic here because he's doing it with a concrete reason, and he didn't even manipulate Katara the way he did in the original. She was genuinely charmed by him.

A big problem I had with Jessie's video was putting in clips from some right-wing channel between critique of NATLA....which....why? Huh? And these were used to say NATLA is leaning into fascist tendencies and smoothing out any critique of colonialism when it really isn't. I think NATLA is very explicitly saying the same message as the original. Not in the same way, but it is. The show actively engages audiences and the characters in discussions of cultural erasure and the problems of valuing power(the latter especially through Zuko and Azula).

There are million issues with the live action (Sokka's casting, ableism in Zuko's burn scar, the writing issues, pacing issues, the lack of screen time for Aang and focus on the Fire family). The ones Jessie Gender discussed though, are not it.

#natla #natla positivity #atla la #atla live action #avatar netflix #jessie gender

[munamania]

ok um i am going to vent on something as someone with an outside perspective and people are going to be normal about that right. okay lol. im sick of hearing about taylor swift <3 as compared to a few years ago even she is like... suffocating. and i feel like we never advance this conversation because on one hand we have people who swing into full misogyny when talking about her, and on the other we have people who won't admit that she blatantly uses feminism to deflect from her problematic behaviors, or at least they won't like, do anything about it, and in this way she sort of ends up misleading a lot of young girls into like. girlboss liberal white feminism. im not saying shes a supervillain for it but you can't deny the ramifications of what she does and doesn't speak up about, just given the absolutely massive platform she has. she is the biggest pop star in the world

for the record, i don't expect taylor to be like. a normal person. she was very famous from a very young age and people aren't normal about teen/adolescent stars, especially when they're girls and women. she had her personal drama aired out in front of the world, had so much misogynistic dialogue surrounding her, from demeaning her success to interrogating her dating life (and never holding the pedos who preyed on her at a young age to any sort of standard!) and for many years people weren't very critical of that. it was normalized to be trashing this young girl's name and saying vile shit about her to like the entire nation and i dont blame her for being like, a little off after that. and yeah i also don’t think we should look to celebrities as our end all be all of activism and opinions on sociopolitical issues

but we've gone full swing into like. she is so famous and so big that her actions can be harmful and she does these things anyway because she doesn't expect her fanbase to hold her accountable, lest they be acting like the very sexists who tried to ruin her career. at least i imagine that's what the thought process is like, at least at some level, but at this point it's just like. this woman makes so much money. so much money it's ridiculous. idk how y'all fathomed paying so much for concert tickets but like i'll give props that they at least seemed to have some insane production/theatrics... so like alright. there's that.

but she is reselling the same songs. sometimes that don't sound that good. and making more money off that. yes yes to 'officially own them' and whatever. and releasing vault tracks and other versions of albums with different songs on them. but never all the same bc u need to collect them all. and the thing is some of them are like kinda bad. but you listen to them anyway because we live in a time of overconsumption/consumerism in late capitalism and it's like trendy and fun to be able to tell what song of hers is playing in the first millisecond. sorry or just your personal attachment to her. and don't say it's embarrassing to be a taylor swift fan these days she's like. so huge. and some of you equate embarrassment with having to hear criticism toward her. which might not be as common if swifties idk stepped it up and actually expected something from her?

which i guess is getting me to my main point here. can you imagine like. what would happen if taylor swift actually said anything about palestine? or anything of value in the world right now? no one's asking her to be a fucking scholar on it but genuinely sorry there’s like a genocide. several. the most documented real time genocide of our time i don’t care if it makes you upset that people expect something from her. she is time's person of the year. she has everyone from young girls to lesbians to gay men to bored football wives to dads to well fucking etc you get the point tuned in. she has dabbled in so many different spaces done so many collaborations aligned herself with so many entities who can keep up? if she, as massive as she is right now, posted something as simple as 'free palestine' or called for a ceasefire, can you imagine what would happen? i can’t help but think about it when day in and day out my feed is filled with screaming people being pulled from rubble or having their limbs amputated.

but she won't, because, quite frankly, what does she have to gain from it? she’s teaming up with the nfl right now to make some more money, she's gotta have at least like 4 new albums recorded in the last two years and at least um what three more that you're expecting? and she doesn't even have to like? write new music really? (edit: oh boy!) why the fuck would she be doing anything with her time other than poisoning the planet with jet fuel to visit her pr boyfriend?

taylor swift is never gonna be punk or what the hell ever beyond like a white liberal-at-best moderate woman. but if any of you could talk to each other and talk about, like, organizing in ways that it would be impossible for her to continue to ignore these situations, and just keep playing her tour FILM (how could i forget) in israel and etc, like if you could flood her socials or do a mass movement (and it would be massive given the sheer amount of peoples' top artists she's in) of not listening/buying/interacting with her stuff, until her agents and whatever had to make some sort of statement? like that's the only chance we've got with her

i'm not saying don’t be her fan, or listen to her music, or have an attachment, etc, but she's been around enough vile, anti-feminist, racist things this past year that y'all DO need to hold her accountable. like way more than you do. or it's going to be like really difficult to. tolerate it. haha. like you SHOULD be vocally and loudly disapproving of her actions when it causes a lot of damage overall. speaking up about her insane climate irresponsibility when we're having the hottest years on record is not the same as the people who felt the need to like pick apart her dating life on the news. but can we talk about how she's officially like. circled back and now is purposefully making news about her dating life? for her personal gain and that of the fucking nfl? lol. in a way it is funny for her to ‘take that power back’ in a way, of her image, and i think that’s how some people might view it, but like on the other hand she obviously is gaining a lot from this. you know. a lot of actual money. she is going to profit off this image of her being misunderstood etc for as long as u guys allow it and well i just think that has run its course. yk

continuing into 2024 (edit: and now with the release of a new album!) i don't want to see swifties automatically exonerating themselves from difficult conversations because like they feel like their fave has faced enough unwarranted criticism. or bc other people should also be criticized. much of it is warranted! and you guys need to grow up and be able to talk about it and stop painting taylor swift's face as like the Pinnacle of feminism. she doesn't and shouldn't have to be, and she isn't, and she should in fact be held accountable when she does really fucking shitty things on account of they're shitty! i don't care that she's a woman! it's like that meme of oh yay a woman democrat sent these missiles. oh yay a woman is massively damaging the planet and proudly dated a violent misogynistic racist, and faced minimum criticism for these things over and over because your only comeback is ‘well what about’ if a man did the same thing, etc, you refuse to just look at the situation we do have. yes we should. we should do that we should hold men accountable but you can also like not accept awful fucking behavior from your faves when you have a chance. do you think that’s helping feminism genuinely. use your voice use your power (your money) to like. do something for once. i cannot keep living in the taylor swift echo chamber.

and for the record. i like enjoyed taylor like back when i was a young girl and she had a few songs on the radio, and i honestly even had a moment where i used guys' opinions on her as a first step to navigate who i felt safe around in a very hypermasculine sexist college space. because yes. some people do need feminism 101 and some people's genuinely misogynistic rage will be demonstrated in their hatred of taylor and her success. but at some point we gotta move on from that. if some people will look at the most powerful woman in the world, who has enough money to stay away from them and an extremely massive loyal fanbase watching and supporting her every move - if some men take out their hatred on her, a powerful white woman, how do you think they view and treat women who are not white, thin, "conventionally"/eurocentrically attractive, or accessible to cis/het audiences?

anyway i hope that i can bring a conversation to the swiftieverse cause i honestly believe u guys could have comparable impact to like. bts stans. maybe. if you put your minds together for a good cause. and we don’t have to do the oppression olympics or whataboutisms or WHATEVER for forever. can we please move the conversation forward does anyone else feel insane with like where we’re at

on that note, i really do think now is the perfect moment for you to disrupt shit with your voices and demand better from her. it might not save the world, but it could make a huge difference in changing peoples' minds

okay um. thanks 👍

tldr i can’t do another year of swiftie discourse i just can’t please if there is a god out there help us

#abby talks #well here’s a draft that i guess is relevant #taylor swift #swifties #swiftie #midnights #1989 #folklore #evermore #taylor’s version #travis kelce #long post #ok swiftie mutuals u better have my back here 😇👍

[wearehea]

Pandora

Part 1 of 2

Synopsis: Bang Chan is your dance student, but tonight he seems particularly unruly.

Fic content: Smut, softdom!chan, sub!reader, afab reader, dance instructor reader, idol!chan, swearing.

.................................................................................

"Again"

The clock in the dance studio indicates past midnight. The place is sweltering and the mirrors covered in steam, which isn't ideal for a dance rehearsal. But if you're being honest, tonight seems to be a never-ending series of unfortunate events.

You take a sip of water. It's just you and Bang Chan today, working on a piece you choreographed for an upcoming live performance. It's a short two-minute routine, but challenging, even for you. And it has to be flawless. You've been practicing for the last few hours, nitpicking every little detail. Bang Chan, bless him, is being a good sport, going along with it all. Even as you take a breather, he's still trying out moves, completely focused on his reflection in the mirror. Too damn pretty.

"Alright," you cough. "Let's run it again." You press a button on the remote, and the music blasts through the studio. The two of you start moving in sync.

As a dance instructor, you always dance right alongside your students. You believe in involving them in the creative process and boosting their confidence to let loose. You won't be seen in the corner shouting instructions.

Besides, dancing with Bang Chan is a delight. He has technique, strength. But most importantly, he genuinely loves what he does. You can see it in his smile when you teach him a move, in the way he starts singing along without even realizing, or the way he says goodbye with a grin as wide as when he walked in for his lesson. He's the most lovable guy you know, and a dear friend. And sure, you have a crush on him, but who wouldn't? He's totally out of reach. You on the other hand, are like like a magnet for sexist dudes who don't even bother to get to know you. Just like last night.

You miss a step.

"Stop, stop," you blurt out, embarrassed. You repeat it, acting like you know what youre doing. Like Chan's mere presence didn't affect you. But as a matter of fact, this particular part does need some tweaking.

"Let's do that move again," you assert, tapping his right shoulder lightly. "And open up that leg a bit more."

He repeats the step a couple of times, incorporating your suggestions.

"Better," you nod, "Let's take it from the top once more."

You both go for the revised part with the music, your bodies in perfect sync. But your head is spinning, thoughts racing in every direction, your throat all dry and your legs suddenly rebellious. Frustrated, you cut the music abruptly and drop the remote on the ground.

"This isn't working," you whine, sitting down to rub your sore legs.

Chan shoots a worried look in your direction, but doesn't stop dancing right away.

"Hang on, what if"....he tweaks the previous step again, making an even wider angle with his body. Fucking mesmerizing. You might keep this. But he's not the problem, nor the choreo, and you know it deep down. The problem is you. You concentrate on your stretching.

"That's really beautiful, Channie."

The mention of his nickname is enough for him to realize that something really is off with you tonight. You rarely call him that, even if casual settings, always striving to be the most professional. He sits down crossed legged in front of you, frowning.

"What's wrong?" His voice is barely above a whisper, soft and comforting with his melodious aussie accent.

How can he make you melt with two stupid words? You feel the burn of tears trying to climb up your tearducts. Oh no. Say something, quick.

"I'm sorry", you laugh. "I'm okay, it's just...This piece is stressing me out, and we only have a few weeks until the show, and I didn't get any sleep last night and..."

"Oh...Had a fun date night didn't you?" He teases, pinching your arm. You blush instantly. Shoot. You told him about the date last week, how you were so excited to go. Dinner and a movie, what could go wrong? Well, everything did. Still you somehow were convinced it was worth inviting that guy over to your place. Maybe if he stopped talking and started fucking it would be better. Crude, you know, but it'd been a while you did anything other than sleeping in your bed.

"If only"...you moan. "I mostly stayed up wondering why I thought a date was even a good idea. And also, he snored."

"There's nothing wrong with snoring!" Chan protests. I snore, too."

Congratulations, that's your only fault.

"Yeah, but...it's just...just..." You stammer, finally feeling the toll of a sleepless night, slight hangover and hours of dancing. He looks at you worryingly, looking impossibly gorgeous even doing nothing. Why, why...

"And I mean, is it so hard to make a woman cum?" You say. Loudly.

Silence. Since the ground didn't open underneath you like you'd hope, Chan is still here, staring at you with a shocked expression. Have you, Y/N, managed to shock Bang Chan, the guy who gets shirtless anytime he has the chance? No way. But then, he does something even worse, something that makes your body tingle- he grins.

"Sorry", you whisper.

"No need to apologize." He's still grinning from ear to ear. You drop your head into your palms, cheeks cherry red. The both of you keep silent for a few moments. Whatever tension you felt risingup earlier -anger, or lust, or a mixture of both- quietly disappears. Not for long. It comes rushing back as soon as Chan breaks the silence.

"What do you like?"

You look up at him. Uh-oh. That's a sight you've never seen before. He's still sitting up straight, dancer like, hands relaxed between his crossed legs. His eyes are dark though, even darker than usual. He's not messing with you. He's very, very serious.

"I like...."the words roll on your tongue before you can stop them. "I like to be lead."

More silence.

"Makes me feel...Safe, I guess." You shrug. "Sorry, it sounds crazy."

"No it doesn't", Chan frowns.

You can't help the desperate look you give him. Why is he doing this?

"What else?"

Just as you're about to properly ask him what the hell has gotten into him, the studio door opens abruptly.

"Oh...Sorry, you kids are still here?" The janitor asks, not used to see people rehearsing this late. "I'm closing up, alright? You guys take the back door when you leave, it will lock.

"Uhh...Ah, yes Sir", you reply because Bang Chan still hasn't stopped staring at you, which is becoming almost kind of rude.

The janitor smiles politely. You watch him leave, closing the door behind him, painfully aware of the pair of darkened pupils burning into your neck. What if you turn your head and Chan laughs at you for believing he was actually hitting on you? But he doesn't. Instead...

"Show me."

End of part 1.

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