#that's like a war trophy

[heart-0f-a-rebel16]

okay the way the rebels fandom treats zeb is just so crazy for one of the main characters. He doesn’t get half the insight or analysis and when he does it’s always through his relationship to another character. Like when are we gonna appreciate the nuances of his character? He is kind and merciful but doesn’t believe himself to be anything more than a useless grunt. He is strong and smart but he is so scared of letting his family down that he’s willing to completely hide parts of himself away just so he won’t ever have to bear the thought of that happening. There’s such a lack of love for him and it makes me sad

[loreandletters]

WarTrophy!Sokka Snippit

i survived finals. it only cost me my healthy, sanity, and a few years of my life. as celebration, here'sanother semi-polished drabble from my old drafts!

fic in question | snippit 1 | snippit 2

-

Agni, Sokka cursed, I think that made me feel worse.

He hadn’t thought about that night in a long, long time. Was this what brooding did to a person? No wonder Zuko was so grumpy all the time. Sokka sighed. Moping was doing him any good - best leave that to melodramatic prince’s with bruised egos.

Sokka propped himself up with a groan, his chest aching terribly and begging for him to lie back down. Shit. He felt horrible. Almost as bad as he did after his trials.

‘How could you let them get away? We had them!’ 

Sokka snorted, even though it wasn't funny at all. Honestly, what was Zuko expecting? It was the avatar, master of all four elements, versus Sokka, master of nothing. Was he supposed to pull a bomb out of his ass or something? 

Sokka pinched his nose bridge, resisting the urge to bury his face in a pillow and scream. Zuko was understandably upset. He had done the impossible, something everyone had laughed at him for and told him he’d fail at, only for the avatar to simply fly away. On a giant flying spirit-beast thing. 

Could Sokka really blame him for getting mad? 

‘How could you?! You’re - You’re no different than them. I - I should have known. You’re just a savage playing dress up.’

Sokka’s hand dropped onto his lap, cushioned by white sheets. It’s scarred and calloused skin stared back up at him. That…that was a little harder to reason away.

The people they fought, those were savages. Agni’s sake, they had bone spears! Bones! They lived in huts; they traveled on wooden boats - what about Sokka was savage other than his eyes? He may not be a Fire National, but everything he'd done over the past eight years should have made up for it!

Sokka served the royal family even when it went against his personal feelings, which wasn’t even something everyone on their crew could claim. Hell, he’d threatened to kill a kid in front of their mother for Zuko. Who in their right mind would see that and then say he was a traitor? A savage?

His gut grew hot - and he rubbed at his face to try and banish the growing flush, ignoring how it made his ribs twinge in protest. 

In the strictest terms, Sokka didn’t really have any grounds to get mad at Zuko. Zuko was a prince, banishment or not, and Sokka was decidedly…not. If Zuko wanted to call him a savage until the day he died, he didn’t have the right to say no. It’s just that...Sokka knew deep, deep, deep, deep down, Zuko couldn't have meant it. His prince was a kind one, gentle and so conscious of everyone around him. 

Fire spit, Zuko used to make him help sneak turtleducks into his room, wanting to raise them in secret only to give up because the idea of them being separated from their mother was too sad. Sokka sighed.

He forced himself to let go of any bitterness, letting the resentment in his stomach cool. His anger was misdirected (it was). Zuko wasn't the problem here - Ozai was. They wouldn't even be out here in the first place if it wasn't for him! Ursa, Lu Ten, Azulon - everything was Ozai's fault, and as if that wasn't enough, he was trying to ruin Zuko.

Zuko would still be that kind boy Sokka remembered from their childhood and Azula (probably ) wouldn't have turned out so crazy. Even now, oceans away and two years of silence, Ozai had still managed to hurt Zuko more.

That was the root of Sokka's anger. That once again, Zuko let his anger get the best of him, forcing him to embrace Ozai’s poison just a little bit more.

Sokka had held out hope that maybe the years at sea would dampen that connection, the openness maturing him in a way the palace could not, but it seemed he was wrong. Ozai's talons still cut in deep.

Sokka sighed, the sharp twist in his heart throbbing. It hurt him to see Zuko chase senselessly after Ozai’s approval, not when he knew the Fire Lord would never give it. Everything that would make Zuko a great man was everything Ozai hated. Zuko would have to either die or become like his father, before even a sliver of approval floated his way, and Sokka didn’t know which was worse.

Making up his mind, he began to get up. So what if Zuko blamed him? It was nothing, just a bump in the road. There was a lot on the line, and Sokka didn’t have time to get all twisted about some playground insults. Zuko needed Sokka now more than ever, and if he continued to doubt him, well that just meant Sokka needed to work harder to show his dedication.

Sokka rolled out of bed with a groan. He needed to see Zuko and…well, he’d probably have to apologize for that punch. Also, Sokka just wanted to see him. He was Sokka’s prince, but they were friends. And anyways, Zuko still cared about him (duh the guy had moved him to his room) and that was enough proof for him that this was all just water under the bridge.

With great effort, he got to his feet. Sucking in a couple breaths, he steeled himself. Agni, it hurt. By the time he made it to the door, he’d pull himself together. He wouldn’t be of any use to Zuko broken. Letting out a hiss, he limped out into the hallway. When he crossed the threshold, he straightened up and pushed the agony to the corner of his mind that he ignored. There, totally normal. 

(he could make it about a day, tops, before needing like ten hours of beauty rest)

Sokka traversed through at least three hallways before he finally ran into someone.

“Sokka.” The voice was deep, heavy with the scratch that came from breathing out fire, proof of Agni’s blessing. 

“Jogan.” Sokka said back just as enthusiastically, which was to say, not at all.

Jogan looked him up and down with an unkind, critical eye. “You shouldn’t be up.” 

“Probably.” Sokka shrugged, then raised his eyebrow in half-feigned amusement. “Odd to hear it coming from you though. Didn’t know you cared.”

“I don’t.” The bigger man huffed, “but the prince has been hovering for days. It’d be disrespectful for you to waste his effort.”

Out of everyone on the crew, Sokka respected Jogan the most, despite the fact it was so obviously not returned. Jogan didn’t like him, but he was a loyalist so he obeyed Zuko. He was nothing like Ryuji, who ignored the prince in favor of his own disgust. 

It was nice to see that there were still people out there who respected the weight of Zuko's status. As the banishment went on and on, Sokka had started to fear the Fire Lords’ propaganda would fully erase support for Zuko’s claim to the throne by the time they returned. At this rate though, they had at least ten years before Sokka really had to start worrying. No great, but it could be worse.

“I would never.” Sokka promised, and tapped his chest confidently, “In fact, thanks to the Prince’s attention, I’m at full health. Could fight off a giant flying buffalo.” 

“Hmph.” Jogan grunted, but that criticizing gleam had dimmed. Sokka couldn’t help the exasperation. It felt odd knowing that a racist crewhand had more trust in his word than Zuko did. 

Sokka looked around then, confusion brushing away his apprehension. “Where is everyone?” 

It wasn’t that late in the day yet; there should still be some people milling about. Were they getting their asses kicked in some all out brawl on deck? Shit, he hoped he hadn’t missed Ryuji getting his ass handed to him.

Jogan thankfully decided to have mercy on Sokka and humor him, instead of ignoring him (outside of orders) as he tended to do. “We’ve docked. They’ve ordered everyone off board.”

“Already?”

Jogan rolled his shoulders. “It’s been a week since the poles.”

Spirits. He was out for a while. “Where are we then?”

“In Sen Dor port for repairs.” 

Sen Dor? Why did that sound familiar? Seeen Doooo – Sokka’s back sent sharp sparks of pain up his spine with how fast it shot up. This was Zhao’s port. Sokka closed his eyes in frustration. Zuko must have been too impatient to go further north. That, or he didn’t want to lose the avatar's scent. Shit! What a horrible time to be out. Couldn’t have happened in the three years they were just wandering out on sea with nothing to do, could it?

Sokka bowed, and bid the man a quick goodbye. He definitely didn’t miss the disapproving stare it earned him. Sokka ignored it, focusing on getting to his room and armouring up as fast as he could.  Zhao was a fucking bastard, an ambitous prick that wouldn’t think twice about hyjacking Zuko’s mission for his own gains. If Lu Ten hadn’t died, he never would have made it up the rank as far as he had.  

Unfortunately for literally everyone, that was just the kind of soldier Ozai liked.

Sokka swore under his breath. 

Zuko just couldn’t give him a break, could he?

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Ngl the idea that Ben's, Mal's, Evie's and Jay's boat trip during Descendants 5 (that they could have shoved Carlos onto as well as an explanation for his absence but what do I know I'm not descendants who decided Carlos must be killed off for some god forsaken reason) was just so they could recruit kingdoms into Auradon AND to compete in the kingdom cup games to win the ultimate kingdom cup is eyebrow raising as fuck. Because like, one: the idea that this is to explain new Disney movies like Encanto now being in Descendants when its still questionable to have Colombia/the village of Encanto be recruited into Auradon in the first place given uh, what was the root of family trauma in Encanto....is just annoying as fuck because why must every Disney movie location be apart of Auradon, just making Auradon look like a colonzation place this point with how they getting everyone to join them and not letting some be and just being allies with them instead... Two, the idea that they also were recruiting for the games like...what the fuck makes a kingdom cup game so appealing to basically merge your location with a huge kingdom??? Also they could just invite to join the games, not use it as a way to get people to join the kingdom, just saying! Three, the fuck is gonna be the excuse for the four's absence this film then if that was all they were doing in Rise of Red off-screen??? Because surely they still can't be recruiting during the games themselves and the king and queen would have to be present.

[nascarandstuff]

podium day!!! 😁

[bubblyernie]

i saw another post about this but columbo and ace attorney suspects are both so funny in the way they can never be normal about being accused, its never like "I would never shoot someone! I swear I have no idea what you're talking about!" and always "....I see. So you think I shot someone? Well what proof have you that I did? Why don't we talk very casually about my collection of guns that have never been fired which I polish once every day, search them if you'd like" like!?!?! Okay, murderer!!

[spiderbae2319]

The true tragedy of Anakin Skywalker is that he was unable to live out his true destiny as Padme’s trophy husband.

[lemodoe]

Did Yiu Know; i drew yaoi yesterday

HAHAHHAHAHAHHH.hHhHHAHAHAHAHAHAHH.OH GOD I. one moment. let me set the scene.

me and jun are in the bedroom, probably fucking around somewhat. they’re sitting at the desk, and I’m sitting at the far end of the couch, facing towards like their side. it’s pretty quiet, they’re checking tumblr and I’m looking over their shoulder. it’s something like six pm. theres a notification, they open their ask box.

dead silence from both of us. we stare at this message for like what must have been a solid five seconds. then we couldn’t stop laughing for like the five Minutes after-ANDYYYYYYY.ANDY WHYY DID YOU PHRASE OT LKEL THAT.ANDYYY YOUKILLED US.

[mayra-quijotescx]

being mad at neopronoun-havers and your primary issue with them being said neopronouns is weaksauce, btw. Whenever someone with cool new pronouns is being annoying and full of shit all over Ada Lovelace's internet I yoink said pronouns and give them to one or more characters in one of my several WIPs that will never be finished nor see the light of publication. Get on my level (the level of five or more distinct genders in every WIP you start writing) (and also never completing anything or being published) (smh)

[daenystheedreamer]

Lucemond redeeming quality they single-handedly prevent the asoiaf top ten ships on ao3 from being exclusively straight

im still sooooo mad they beat out rhaenicent (you people HATE women) but its also insanely funny idk. like they really had a button a nickel and one sock and they used it to invent an entire seperate mythology which they then hawked so hard its only beat out by daemyra. no matter what i say on the ship know that i respect the battle hardened sincere fujoshi. and you KNOW theyre the reason omegaverse is one of the top ten tags for ALL of hotd. also unrelated but aemondgirls getting x-ofc and x-reader on the charts.... nevertheless she persisted!!!

[mollysunder]

Imagine a universe where Anakin reveals his secret marriage to Padme to the Jedi and leaves the Order to be with her. In a scenario where things just don't work out (a lot's still riding against them) and they get divorced, would Anakin be entitled to alimony payments and child support?

He didn't come into the marriage with any money or assets because he was born enslaved, and as a Jedi, he was encouraged to own little. Padme was a literal queen who served two terms on Naboo and then became an influential senator on Coruscant, so she has a pension somewhere. Any divorce lawyer would point out that Anakin's standard of living was hyper elevated by his marriage to Padme, and he would be entitled to spousal support because the divorce has created a gap in his financial support.

None of this is meant to be pointed, I just like the idea of occasional awkward conversations between Anakin and Padme when she picks up Luke and Leia for her weekend with them to let her know the checks cleared. They were running into problems because Anakin never owned an independent bank account before.

[brechtian]

literally what does the former president of the trans jorgen fanclub and lgbt skyward discord have to do to get her hands on an mbot figurine

[keicordelle]

The Daily Inconveniences of an Au Ra: Servants

"Please, Master Dotharl, allow me to carry that to your room for you."

"What? Uh, no thanks, I'm fine. I've got it." Keshet twisted before the black clad servant could pull the tray right out of his hands.

Keshet was no stranger to servitude. Not that he'd ever submitted to such an ordeal himself - the Dotharl did not take slaves from their victims, they just slaughtered them, but some tribes did, like the mangey Buduga. The Dotharl had long held that if you wanted something done, you did it yourself. No task was too lowly for a true warrior; you did not pass off the grunt work onto someone lesser than you. And you certainly did not insist that someone else carry your lunch when you had two perfectly functional arms.

Suffice it to say staying at the Fortemps Manor had been an uncomfortable arrangement from start.

It didn't matter to him that he'd been assured time and again that the servants were fairly compensated for their services. ("They're servants, not slaves, my friend," Haurchefant had claimed with a pat on his back.) Aside from the simple fact that there was no compensation in all of Hydaelyn worth lacing Emmanellain's britches for him (Nhaama bless poor Honoroit's soul, Keshet was fairly certain the boy had more strength of character than he did), it seemed to him that the servants had little choice in their work. Oh, they weren't chained and forced to labor, of course, but what other choice did they have? Either they bowed to their master's whims or they starved. That was not how it ought to be. Your worth ought to be judged by your strength at arms, not some accident of birth that named you a noble or a commoner.

So what if they were born to a goat herder and a shoeshiner, that didn't make them any less capable an individual than a son of the High Houses. That didn't give the Fortemps or the Dzemael or any of the others the right to order them about to do their bidding without half a thought to what they asked of them. He'd heard Artoirel and Emmanellain both command the servants to fetch them tea or biscuits or their coat, to clean their messes and oil their armor, and the servants just bowed and "yessir"ed and did as they commanded. By Keshet's standards, the stableboy scooping chocobo dung from the pens held more worth than the snotty nobles who refused to clean up after themselves, much less their mounts.

He did, at least, have the good sense not to say that to their faces, especially when their presence in Ishgard depended on the Fortemps' generosity. But he'd brought it up to Urianger once, during one of his stealthy visits to the Waking Sands. "'Twas mine impression that much of one's station amongst the Dortharl dependeth on the circumstances of their birth," was all Urianger had said, watching him steadily.

Keshet frowned at him, lowering his steaming cup back to the table as he protested, "Just because your identity is known from birth doesn't mean that dictates your existence, though. Your standing is determined by your strength at arms in this life, not in your past."

But it seemed that, while Ishgard was by far the most egregious offender, this same sort of hierarchy existed across much of the West. From the poverty-stricken slums of Ul'dah to the Garlean war of succession, "birthright" was the unimpeachable king.

"Did you want to join me?" Keshet asked the Fortemps manservant - Phillipe, Keshet was pretty sure that was his name. "An offer, not an order. Though you can tell Edmont that I demanded it if you need to."

Phillipe blinked at him for a moment, caught between surprise and puzzlement before his face melded into a mask of polite regret and he said, "My apologies, sir, but I fear I must attend to my duties. Perhaps another time. But do not hesitate to ask if you need anything."

Keshet frowned after him as he scampered away, off to tend to Emmanellain's laundry or fetch a book for Artoirel, no doubt. Another effort to get to know the house staff, thwarted. He would have liked to befriend them; he was reasonably confident they'd make for better company than the stuffy nobles who constantly surrounded him these days, with their elegant sneers and their ridiculous rules of etiquette. Give him someone who could cook a boar or wash the sheets any day.

With a sigh, he retreated back to his room, tray in hand. Given the unknowable duration of their stay, he'd doubtless have another chance. But he refused to grow accustomed to having someone wait on him. He'd fetch and carry his own things, thank you very much, and if any of the servants wanted to do him a favor, they could break bread with him, not for him.

Read the rest of the series on Ao3!

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[marxistlesbianist]

The entitlement of US Vietnam vets is so fucking wild because, like, on top of everything else they lost the war! These people will stand tall and demand you recognize the “sacrifices” they made for your “freedom,” as though they didn’t suffer a humiliating military defeat. Talk about participation trophies!

[veiledfox]

} kinda starting to feel the need to sleep

but I don't want to yet

might get back on games for a while

[mooningningg]

✮⋆˙ Halloween with Roommate!Sukuna

“Yo, who let this menace in?” Gojo snickers, watching Sukuna swagger in behind you, an arm slung around your waist like you’re his trophy for surviving hell.

Gojo's dressed like a vampire prince with dramatic-ass eyeliner and a floor-length velvet cloak that he keeps stepping on.

“I came with your mom,” Sukuna grins, middle finger up, “but she told me to come back later. Said she needed a nap after what I did to her—”

“Sukuna,” you hiss, elbowing him.

He just laughs and pulls you tighter, pressing a kiss to your cheek so smugly that you want to punch him and melt at the same time.

“Bro,” Suguru snorts smooth and cool as always in a black and gold Grim Reaper fit, fake scythe slung over his shoulder like it’s part of his spine, sipping his beer. “You show affection like it’s a war crime.”

“Don’t be mad I got the baddest girl in the room, man,” Sukuna slurs, spinning you around dramatically. “Look at her. Look. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re loud,” Toji grumbles, leaning against the wall, black devil horns crooked on his head. “Louder than the fuckin’ music.” Toji groans from the corner, wearing a black T-shirt with “This Is My Costume” scrawled on it in red sharpie. Literal devil horns sit crooked on his head like they’re as tired of him as he is of everything else.

“I’m sexy. I get a pass.”

“No, you’re drunk.”

“I’m both. Cry about it.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing a plastic cup off the snack table while Shoko slips beside you, devil wings shimmering.

“He’s feral tonight,” she says, deadpan.

“He’s always feral,” you sigh.

Meanwhile, Sukuna’s halfway into a very heated argument with Gojo about who would win in a fight between Freddy Krueger and the IRS. Somehow, you are not surprised.

“Ryo,” you say sweetly, pulling on his sleeve. “Please stop making Gojo threaten to ban you from every party we ever go to.”

Sukuna turns to you, all slanted eyes and sinful smirks. “You tryna distract me, baby?”

“No,” you say, flatly.

“You want me to take you to the guest bedroom upstairs and prove I’m right about Freddy?”

“I hate you.”

He kisses your cheek again. “No, you don’t.” And the worst part? You really, really don’t.

Suguru is wheezing. Shoko’s filming. Toji looks like he regrets being born.

But Sukuna? Sukuna’s just vibing—his fingers sliding up and down your waist, your name falling from his lips like a song he refuses to stop singing. His touch is casual but constant, like he wants everyone to know.

“You good, baby?” he murmurs close to your ear, voice dropping beneath the noise.

You tilt your head at him, cheeks warm from the liquor and laughter. “I’m with you, aren’t I?”

He gives you a look—like you just won something he never admitted was a contest. Then he taps your hip. “Come on. Let’s go terrorize that haunted bathroom upstairs.”

“Ryo.”

“Just sayin’. Ghosts would be lucky to see you bent over a sink.”

You swat him. He kisses your cheek anyway. And like every party before this one— You end up both causing and cleaning up the chaos.

notes, guess who's back... me and roomie sukuna!

[cherrysinner]

── NEVER MY LOVE ♡

♡ pairing: nerd rafe x pervert!reader

♡ summary: you're worried that someone your boyfriend is tutoring is into him.

♡ warnings / tags: fluff. angst.

♡ author's note: i hope you like it!

PERVERT MASTERLIST ♡ RAFE MASTERLIST

if your boyfriend hadn't signed up to tutor people with lower grades because he wanted extra credit, you likely never would've met him. but something you'd started to notice lately was that... some people weren't coming to rafe just for help with their schoolwork. to be more specific, some girls.

you saw it in the way they wore skin-tight skirts to something that was supposed to be a 'study session', in the way they bit down on their lip when he taught them something, in the way they laughed at the kind of jokes you laughed at when you first had a crush on rafe, the kind of jokes no one would laugh at until they wanted to get in their pants. but whenever you voiced your worries, rafe just laughed it off.

"come on. i'm not even good looking. why would someone go through two hours of tutoring just for me? i think you're just being paranoid, dove." rafe smiled, stroking your cheek.

"you need to stop that." you sighed, pressing a kiss on rafe's forehead, "there aren't enough words in the fucking dictionary to describe how amazing you are, or how lucky i am to have landed you."

rafe lets out a soft laugh, and presses a soft kiss on your forehead, once again repeating that you were the only one who'd want him and that he basically won the lottery by having you be into him.

but you saw the way some of the girls looked at rafe. like he was a trophy, like he was something to be won over... and you kept your eye on each and every one of them.

"do you love me?" you asked him with a throaty voice, displaying each and every one of your emotions inba four-letter question.

"more than anything living or dead."

sofia was a smart girl.

she knew that rafe was obsessed with his girlfriend; the girl who had originally needed rafe just to better her chemistry grades, but now needed him to hold her at night. maybe if sofia replicated something like that, maybe if she needed his help… maybe she could catch rafe's attention.

you’d never been jealous because of a guy. you never even cared enough about a guy to be jealous because of him. but when you passed the library and saw rafe and sofia laughing together, it felt like someone stuck a hot fireplace poker into your heart. it reminded you of the way you'd made him laugh when you'd first gotten together.

you'd tell rafe the stupidest joke you'd found on a joke book, and he'd laugh like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. but now, whenever you tried telling him any kind of joke, he'd simply let out a quiet chuckle.

was he getting tired of you?

that night, you two were laid in bed together, your boyfriend stroking your hair, "rafe?" you mumbled softly. "yeah, baby?"

"can you stop tutoring sofia?" "why?" rafe asked with a soft chuckle. "i... i just don't feel comfortable with it. i think she's into you. like, really into you." "sweetie." rafe pressed a peck on your lips, "i'm doing this tutoring stuff so that we can have a better future. i think you're reading into it. i want no one but you."

"please. just her, and her only."

rafe smiled, pulling your forehead to his, "i won't help her out with even a singular math question."

and you believed him.

you were laid on rafe's bed, staring up at the glow-in-the-dark stars you'd put up on his ceiling with blu-tac, even going as far as attaching some pictures you'd printed out of star wars ships, along with the doctor's tardis, wanting to surprise him for his birthday. when he saw it, rafe told you that he loved it, that it made him feel loved and cared for.

you decided that enough was enough, getting out of your boyfriend's bed, grabbing your bag off the floor and taking in a deep breath. rafe was probably forced out like some of his friends tended to do. you pulled the dormitory door open, ready to call him and go wherever he was at.

only to witness sofia's lips on rafe's.

TO BE CONTINUED....

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