#am i putting this in the actual actor tags? yeah why not

[aiqingdemeimiao]

https://twitter.com/buckIeydiaz/status/1721216980219220476?t=o9bj5k63sHZE2H9sHllZkw&s=19

Ben kadiff Andrew and Paul at a drag show

slowed it down & brightened it so it's easier to see, but this bit where ben just grabs andrew's head is cracking me up 😭😭😭 why are they like this

[flownwrong]

no tether (star trek: discovery fic)

Burnham/Rayner, rated M; tags: post s05e05 Mirrors, PWP, praise kink, ~3200 words

A/N: Fair warning: I'm not very familiar with Star Trek universe. I am here mainly through the misfortune of being obsessed with a certain Canadian actor. So if anything doesn't make sense — you know who to blame.

read on ao3

The hour is just about to turn from late into early when Michael finds him tucked into a narrow nook, in a hallway that's mostly deserted during all shifts.

He's sitting on the floor, tucked into the corner, one knee pulled up, a hand with a drink resting on it. Likely too wired to sleep, too suffocated in the solitude of his quarters. That's why she comes here, anyway. It's rare for them to be off the bridge at the same time; figures that they would end up in the same spot.

She approaches slowly, makes sure she doesn't creep up on him. Rayner doesn't move, eyes fixed on the floor, or, no—his profile is illuminated by soft bluish light. A screen, then.

"Hey," she says, leaning against the wall. "You wouldn't take the chair, but you'd steal my hiding spot, huh?"

"Good morning to you too, Captain." Rayner looks up and raises his glass in a toast. "Hiding spot?"

"Well, isn't that what you're here for?"

His eyes crinkle at the corners. "Oh, I'm just catching up on my reading."

"Kellerun classics?"

His mouth lifts at one side, that quiet pleased almost-smile she never quite expects. "Terran, actually."

She leans down to see, raises her eyebrows. "Odyssey. You're full of surprises."

He shuts it down and shrugs. "A good book can save a life." He gives her a flash of a wink.

Michael laughs, caught off guard. He watches her and takes a sip of his drink.

She lowers herself to the floor and scoots until her back meets the opposite wall. The toes of their boots touch in the middle. He doesn't move away.

"So, what's keeping you up?"

"Could ask you the same question." Rayner's eyes are fixed on her face, intense, and for a second, she struggles for words.

"Nothing. Everything. All of this"—she waves her hand, trying to point it all out, the rest of the ship, the mission—"is new. Like nothing I've done before."

He huffs an approximation of a laugh. "You could say that." He doesn't sound nearly as bitter as before, and it's a relief she didn't know she craved.

Still, she's not sure where they stand on this, where the lines are drawn, here, huddled away when they should be sleeping. She clears her throat.

"The things I saw—in the time cycles, and today."

She tries to think of an explanation. Rayner keeps silent, waiting.

"The could have beens. They're hard to shut out."

He shrugs and looks up, out the viewport. "Yeah. Never did well with those."

"Neither have I." It's late, and they're both exhausted, and she's been through way too much weird to bother, so she nudges his boot with her own. "What are you going to do? After, I mean?"

He hums dismissively. "Does it matter?"

Yes, Michael wants to say, of course it does. I want to know what you're waiting for. I want to know if you'll stay. Instead, she says, "Oh? Nowhere you would go? Home?"

Rayner looks uncomfortable, hunches in on himself. When he speaks, his voice is low, like he hopes she won't hear. "Kind of supposed I'd go out before I go home."

She'd be taken aback, except it sounds exactly like him. "Just like that?"

He gives her a challenging look, a rare one that make his face unreadable. "Would you choose any different?"

Would she? He's thought about this, Michael realises, is used to the thought. She forgets, sometimes, how much older he is. Her thoughts are filled with hope, fear, longing—she hasn't chosen how she wants to go, not yet.

Still, there's something here he isn't sharing. She files it away, out of both curiosity and necessity, and reaches out to squeeze his knee. "I don't believe you."

"No?" His sharp features are tense, his cheeks hollowed like he's gritting his teeth.

"No. For one, it would take the heat death of the universe to put you down."

He snorts. "That's flattering."

She ignores him, goes on while she has an in, "But what I mean is that there's too much wonder in you, Rayner. You don't want to go down fighting. You're out here because you want this"—she nods at the stars—"to last." And there's something you left undone, she doesn't add.

He worries at his bottom lip, one of his minute tells. His eyelashes brush his cheeks, a startlingly gentle image.

Michael tilts her head, trying to catch his eye. "Am I wrong?"

Rayner's still for a moment, then shakes his head, lips a thin line, like it costs him. "No. You're not."

"Yeah." She strokes her thumb lightly across his knee. His skin feels feverish through the fabric of his uniform, and she remembers the Kellerun run hotter than humans. He looks down at her hand, swipes his eyes up, over her knees, her chest, shoulders. When he meets her gaze, very slowly, there's a quiet, almost sweet expectation in his look.

She clears her throat. "You haven't finished your drink."

"You want it?" His smile is soft.

She hums an agreement and reaches for his glass, less than a finger of light amber liquid left in it, and he passes it carefully, his fingertips brushing hers. She expects the drink to be acidic, sweet and excessive in all the ways something called citrus mash should be, since she heard the name about seventeen times today, but it's—wow, it's a whiskey. Strong, fragrant, with an aftertaste she can't place, a sharp burn.

She coughs. "Wow. This is good."

"Fair warning, this one kicks." He looks pleased at her surprise, his whole shape looser, waiting.

Michael shakes her head, showing him what feels like the tenth smile of the night. "Thanks for the heads-up. It's good."

"Yeah? There's more where that came from."

"Not the bar?"

"Oh, no. My quarters."

"Oh," she says, appreciative. "You have a bottle with you?"

"As I learned today, keeping a good bar can prove motivational," he says, dead serious.

"Very practical."

His eyes flicker down to her hands and back. "What can I say, I'm a practical guy."

She chuckles. "Yeah, you are."

They breathe in silence for a little while, just watching each other, and Michael knows it will have to be her call. And, oh—she wants it. Wants to not think about the clues, and failed relationships, and the bridge, wants to feel good and make someone feel good—and this is oddly uncomplicated. If there's anyone on this ship she can trust with this, it's Rayner.

"I could join you. For another glass, I mean." She counts down the steps. Three.

He gives her a hard, no-bullshit look. Waiting for her to cave. When all she does is look back, he says, "I suppose you could." Two.

They get up silently, in sync. It feels good, them on the same page, an already familiar hum, the only new thing in it the simmering anticipation.

One.

As soon as they clear his door, Rayner turns, blocking her way into the room. "Captain."

"Michael," she says. She won't do this in command, not to him, and not to herself.

He nods. "Michael. Do you actually want me to pour you a drink?"

An out, then. For her or for himself, though, she's not sure. She's halfway through a no, not really when he raises a hand, halting her words, staring her down. Fine.

"Yes," she offers, as firm as she can. "Later."

He watches her with narrowed eyes for a second, then turns to go in. She catches his wrist and tugs until he looks back at her. "This isn't part of your job," she says, wanting him to know—he must, but this isn't something she can afford to misjudge.

He barks out a laugh, looking genuinely amused. "That what you think of me?"

"Shush," she says, before he locks down and this whole thing breaks. He looks shocked at the word. "This is not part of your job."

She holds very still until he tugs his wrist free, his mouth twitching in an abortive smile. "Fine." He raises his chin, but his eyes are still laughing.

Rayner drops the empty glass onto a bedside table, dims the lights, disappears into the bathroom. She lingers back, takes it in. She expected his room to be stark, impersonal. It's not. Mostly dark, now that he's turned the warm lights down. There's a soft-looking blue throw, not Starfleet issue, over the bed that's tucked neatly against the wall. An unfamiliar vine with round purple leaves framing the viewport above. A bottle with two matching glasses in the cabinet on the far wall. It's sparse, but nothing like the ascetic box she'd imagined.

He walks back into the room, barefoot, and stops, a little awkward, two steps in front of the bed, not wanting to—presume? Michael realises just then she was hoping—once they got past the questions—for urgent, for tumble into the room, fall into bed, shut everything out sex, and barely manages not to laugh out loud. Good pick of a partner here, Burnham.

So she steps closer and looks up at him. He's tall enough that she's used to it, but up close it's a new feeling. He seems to be holding his breath when she raises her hands to his neck. She undoes his collar and keeps hold of it—she could probably drag him wherever she wants like this. He exhales on a laughter, like he's getting the joke, and folds himself down to sit on the bed.

"Here," she unzips his jacket, slides it down his shoulders, until he shrugs out of it. It's weird to be undressing someone wearing the same uniform. She wonders how long it's been since he wore anything but. She bares his soft undershirt, regulation, same as hers. He smells good, spicy, not unlike his drink. Getting to look down at him—she's struck by his angles, his pale shoulders almost narrow. Nothing like Book.

And here's the truth of it, isn't it? She could say she's getting it out of her system, a distraction from the one thing she can't have, and it wouldn't be a lie, but—she wants Rayner, here. He's sharp, and audacious, and oddly easy to provoke into uncertainty, and his eyes go warm and a little lost when someone—when she's proud of him.

So she reaches out, palm on his cheek, and he turns immediately to mouth at it, slow, eyes fluttering closed. It's dizzying. "Good," she says, has to say, and he shudders with it. She traces the edge of his ear with a finger, light, sees the start of a blush right at the tip. He leans into it. This, here. Michael wonders why he's doing this. What it is he's looking for, or trying to shut out.

His eyes still closed, Rayner opens his mouth to speak—and she drops her knee onto the bed, between his legs, warm and close. His eyes fly open, bright and stunned. She slides her hands back to cradle the base of his skull. The short buzz of his hair there is soft, silky.

"Okay," he says, and moves in, stretching up to press an open-mouthed kiss just below her ear. She draws a sharp breath. Good instincts. He moves lower. Her clavicle. The dip between her breasts. She isn't guiding him. His lips are hot through the fabric covering her ribs, hotter on her belly. He goes to slide off the bed, to his knees, and she strokes the back of his neck, and doesn't let him. He scoffs—of course he does, and looks up with almost comical annoyance.

Michael scoffs right back. "You don't hold back in uniform—this is where you start?"

Rayner laughs then, full-on, a grin splitting his face. She's heard his annoyed laugh, incredulous laugh, hiding-something-important laugh. This one is a first. "Me on your knees for you is holding back?"

Blunt—there we go, blunt is familiar territory, and she raises her eyebrows at him. "Do what you want, not what you think I want, yeah?"

He watches her for a second, like he's considering the concept, then slowly, deliberately sits back, spreads his legs further.

"Good," she says again, presses her knee right where he's—yes, hard for it, and waits out his low, uneven moan.

"Come on," Michael says, shucks everything off until she's left in her top and underwear. He grabs at her blindly then, reaches her elbows, her waist, slides further up the bed and lies down, pulling her in. She climbs up after him, not quite straddling his hips, says, "come on, Rayner,do your part," and he rises just enough to match her, bare but for his uniform top and shorts, allows her hands to settle at his face again. She thumbs over his cheekbones, over the scar crossing his eyebrow, and he spreads his fingers over her lower back, pulls her down on a hard exhale.

She takes his hand and slides it right there between them, says "go ahead", has to grind down on his knuckles as he palms at himself, rocking up into his own hand, holds his face firmly until he's gasping with it. He's slick when she finally gets him out; bites off a curse when she slides down his body. He doesn't feel any different than what she knows—coarse grey hair at the base of a long, flushed cock; soft, vulnerable sack below it. There's so much heat under her touch when her fingers circle him, a vague reminder of his origin, and that's all she gets to file away before Rayner sinks his fingers in her hair, green light, going in now.

He's quiet and almost still as she takes him in, but that's to be expected, and she closes her eyes, goes slow, gets really into it for a while, until he sucks in a shaky breath, squeezes her neck and arches up hard, says "fuck", sharp and meaning it, and "please", and that's so mind-meltingly hot Michael moans around him and can't manage more than five seconds before coming up because she needs to see him, now.

Rayner's eyes are shut tight, teeth bared. His hands slip down her arms, shaky, his chest is moving with harsh, shallow breaths. "God, Rayner," she says, taking him in hand and pumping slowly, "you're—you're good, you're so good—" and he actually keens at that, an odd high sound.

"Stop," he says, "Michael," and she doesn't, and oh, to see what this costs him.

"What do you want?"

He gasps for breath for a moment, shakes his head. Michael sighs and stills her hand on him.

"Rayner. Look at me."

He makes a cut-off sound of frustration, almost a snarl, breathes in, and meets her eyes dead-on, clear and precise. "Fuck me."

She can't help her smile. "Thought you'd never ask."

She rolls over onto her back. His eyes are all pupil as he lands on his elbows above her, and she throws her legs around him, high on his waist, draws him in.

"Wait," he says, "let me," and strokes just the tips of his fingers under her top, watching her carefully.

"Yeah," she says, "it's alright," and he helps her take it off, nuzzles her neck, then down to her breasts. She feels him hard, leaking against her thigh, and she presses her heel sharply into his lower back until he thrusts against her with a gasp, slowly, and again, keeps it up as he kisses her nipples, her shoulder, the inside of her elbow. She groans, because fuck, he's honest about this, wanting her, wanting her approval, and she whispers, "hey, come here already," and then he's inside her, his hips rolling smoothly, stroking in, and she holds his shoulders, murmurs to him, "yeah, that's it, it's good, you feel good, come on," hears his breath hitch. He closes his eyes, and in the soft creamy glow in the room the planes of his face blur a little. His hair is damp at the roots, a soft white lock falling down against his forehead.

Michael rides his steady rhythm, closes her eyes, too, his long, heated body oddly malleable under her hands and heels, and then his breath is suddenly hot and close, and she looks up to see him unsure again, doesn't get it until his hand cups her cheek and he drops his head an inch closer, hovering, waiting for permission. Oh, God, he's so—Michael draws him into the kiss, soft and wet and scratchy with his beard, and he moans into it, sounding so relieved she has to kiss him harder, fists her hands in the back of his shirt and clenches around him until his hips snap forward harder, again and again, and then he's gone.

After—when he's stopped shivering, when he's finished her off with such care she didn't know what to do with it and kept her hands fisted in his hair, holding on—they lie next to each other, on their backs, for long, quiet minutes. It's peaceful. It's what she came here for.

The room is warmer than what Michael's used to. She thinks about dressing, then discards the idea, sits up and stretches instead. Rayner's eyes don't follow her.

"I'll take that drink now."

He snaps out of his daze and looks at her. "Oh. Um, that way." He nods in the general direction of the cabinet. She finally gets to see the bottle up close—thin, pearlescent material, the liquid inside almost sparkling as the light reflects off it.

She returns to the bed with her glass, sits down, hugging her knees. Rayner hasn't moved, watching her from where he's stretched on his back, hands behind his head, bare but for his shorts. She takes a drink and strokes his shoulder, lets herself look back.

There are scars on his body, paler against pale skin, more than he'd get on a ship—even in battles, even in decades. She doesn't know if he was hiding them, and if he was, why he'd show her now, after. He looks calm, steady, but his face is pale and tired, the lines around his mouth more pronounced.

She slides a hand into his damp hair, smoothes it back. "This time, do get some rest, okay?"

"Aye-aye." He catches her hand and kisses it. His long fingers circle her wrist, thumb stroking gently at the base of her palm.

Something sharp shifts in her throat, a fierce protectiveness. This, she knows, goes both ways.

She takes one more chance. "I'd like to keep you, after. As my number one."

Rayner frowns and lets her hand drop. "Let's see how this one goes first."

Michael sighs and shakes her head at him. "You don't have to swear to it. Just consider it." She gives his shoulder a parting squeeze and gets up to collect her clothes.

As she sits down on the edge of the bed to tug her boots back on, he puts a warm hand between her shoulder blades. "Thank you," he says to her back.

"And you." She raises her hand to her badge, but turns back to give him a smile, and, for once, he doesn't look trapped. "I'll see you on the bridge, Commander."

[mytalemyworld]

They are the most popular couple right now on social media, actually it's not very surprising since there is no love story happening in other tv shows so it's like there is literally no ship wars or something but…even if there was, I think they could still be at the first place.

You didn't ask for my two cents but I'll tell you anyway. The show is a complete mess. Nowadays the writers just don't waste any efforts on their scripts. This one is no different, there's so much craziness going on that I can't stop judging.

So the main character Yaman (his real name is Ali Soysalan) was kidnapped when he was a child. Then he somehow ended up on the streets, grew up with three homeless children. (Cesur, Asi and Umut. Their names come from their characteristics I guess since they have no identity. Cesur means "Brave", Asi means "Rebellious/Rebel". Umut means "Hope". Yaman means "the person who doesn't give up, is strong") They become a kind of family. One day he finds out his real family and the story begins.

This might be too cliche, I don't care about that, but the problem is if you want to watch a heartfelt family reunion you may be very disappointed. After he reunites with his family, there is no bonding, no family time, no thought about how to spend their days from now on…The family find their kid and act like "so yeah, this is your family, stay in our home, these are your other siblings, let's move on." Come on! As a mother more importantly as a doctor mother, you just have to see the emotional damage and the endless gap between your kids.

And don't get me started on how Mother Soysalan announce the news to her other children: They just find out from the tv like the other citizens in the country.

Nothing makes sense, but let's just forget all nonsense and accept that this story is more like about a lost kid who turns back his home to get his revenge on the bad guys.

Btw, I am usually not that kind of person who comments on the performances of the actors but I don't know why, the lead actor doesn't make me really feel anything. The same actor also acted in Kardeslerim as Kadir a.k.a. the eldest brother, (this already looks like typecasting btw) however he is really not convincing here. There's a lack of chemistry with everyone, but this also might be a directing or a script problem because the other actors can't give any strong feelings in some specific scenes too. In short, I fast forward his scenes most of the time. The fact that his actions are so predictable doesn't help either.

So here comes the problematic part.

They are twins but I prefer calling them Jessie and James from Pokemon.

Since The Council of Radio and Television in Turkiye doesn't care the degrees of violence shown or the importance of right labelling for tv shows, I shouldn't be surprised by how this show is tagged. I, however, will give you a warning. The show is dark, there is drug use, excessive violence, emotional abuse, family abuse, physical abuse…oh my, you can put any warning actually. The worse, they are not handled very well. Law enforcement, is there even such a thing in this show? No. Any law? No. Stupidity ever ends? No. I know they are portraying the underdog people so the violence part might be kind of realistic, but the adults are so frustrating when they can not do anything useful.

And these twins are suffering from childhood emotional neglect. (To be honest the half of Soysalan family must be in prison, the other half should see a therapist.)

Alaz Soysalan, he is one of the problematic characters in the show. The younger sibling of the main character and doesn't like his newly found "big bro" (he uses this word with a mocking emphasis) because he sees him as the main reason for his lonely and motherless childhood. He doesn't know what empathy means, he just doesn't feel the others' pains unless the other party also goes through the same thing he does.

He definitely isn't likeable, but for a tv show where everybody shows acute reactions, his choices blend in the rest. Don't expect anything from him, he is a complete disaster.

I can overlook many of his wrongdoings because that's fiction, but I wish I had never seen the way he behaved towards his twin sister at the early episodes. I think it doesn't make sense since he is overly protective and possesive of his family.

Yeah, let's jump into the shipping part.

She is Asi. Your typical tough tomboy. Thanks to growing up together with a bunch of boys, she knows how to deal with them. She swears, she fights. But she is also loyal and compassionate. She is unfortunately helplessly in love with Yaman. He isn't aware of her feelings and sees her as his family, his sister.

When she first meets Alaz, they don't have any important one-to-one interaction. They just don't like each other and naturally turn into enemies. But this is the slowest burn of the show.

Like I said, he has lack of empathy unless he sees someone is hurt from the same pain as he is.

This is the moment he truly sees her because both of them are suffering from one-sided love. He realizes she's in love with Yaman and she knows he loves Rüya. Unlike the other people in the cell, she knows why he's frustrated and angry. Not communicating at all, they share something here.

I'm going to post more about them. They're the only interesting thing in the show. For the rest...meh. I usually adore family dynamics, but don't have expectations here after having seen the found kid part was badly written.

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hey I wanted to ask you if you also write for the actor Tom Sturridge.

If so, could you write a Tom x british princess reader story in wich the princess is born the last child of Diana bevor she died and is a really fascinating person. Like she is very serious about er work and duty but is a really funny and sarcastic person outside of it and makes fun with the queen and her brothers.

Could you pleeeaaase write that for me my love?❤️

Wild Child

Tom Sturridge x Princess!Reader

Summary: There was a reason why you were called the wild child, and one particular man was going to find out for himself during his time volunteering at a nonprofit.

Word Count: 1k+

Warnings: British Princess!reader, reader is blonde cause duh her mom is princess Diana, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: this is such a wild request. peak delusion i think. and i am so here for it HAHAHH PLEASE I AM SO A PRINCESS AND DIANA IS, LIKE, MY MOM FR T_T I LOVE HER SM HAHAHAAH i just like i cant believe im writing this aHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH it's such a niche request HAHAAHAH idk why but writing about the royal family made me apprehensive lol HAHAHH IDK ITS SO CRINGY TO WRITE FOR ME TO ADD THEM so i decided forGET THEM IMMA DO A FREESTYLE I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT MY LOVE I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR THE REQ IT WAS SO WILD AND FUN THAT I EVEN MADE THIS HEADER LOL ig im still tagging @pinksirensong because of course i must that was our deal

I spit out blonde strands of my hair when it flies into my mouth. I release a huff as I bend down and pick up a box from the pile which was unloaded from the truck. I then head back inside the place, watching my step as I went.

"Oh, my dear, you didn't have to!" one of the head organizers calls out to me from across the room, interrupting the instruction she was giving to the rest of the volunteers.

I shoot her a lopsided smile, "are you calling me weak, young lady?"

The grey haired woman named Berta laughs as I make my way to the back. She calls out, "not at all, princess!"

Berta, and the two people she had been instructing, watch me go to the back. One of the two whispers to the other, "ya know she's actually the princess, as in the literal princess of the country."

Gasp, "wait, really? I was gonna say she looks so much like the princess!"

"Yeah, she does cause she is the princess! She volunteers here often."

"Hush you two," Berta chides, "enough gossip!"

I release a breath and roll my shoulders back when I put the heavy box down. I take a moment to stretch and then head to the door to repeat the process. That was until someone walked in, grunting, carrying two boxes in their arms.

"Hey, you need some help there?" I say walking over.

I see blue eyes and dark hair peek from behind the brown object. I offer him a smile and move to get one of the boxes from him.

"It's alright, I've got it," he calls as I move to take one from him.

I give him a quick nod and instead watch him as he puts the boxes down.

When he straightens up, he huffs and turns to me, in time to see my smirk before I speak, "an impressive feat, considering the weight of those boxes, superman."

He catches his breath and returns my expression, exaggeratedly biting his lower lip as he grips one of his biceps, "these guns are no joke."

I snort and raise a hand, "lucky for me, I know how to disassemble artillery."

He pulls his head back, lips still curved up into a smile, "wait, really?"

I nod with a brow quirked, "quicker than you can say Worcestershire."

We share a chuckle because of my words. I then extend my hand to him, saying my name in introduction. He obliges, taking my hand, telling me his name is Tom.

"Do you volunteer here often?" he asks after we withdrawing hands.

I hum and narrow my eyes, "I'd say alternatively would be more appropriate."

"Ah."

"And you?"

"I think, is the third time I've come back here."

I nod, motioning to the door, silently leading us out. I turn to him as I say a quick thank you when opens the door, "is there any particular reason you've come back?"

"Honestly, the people here are kind and I've grown to love the company of the elderly chaps I've met."

I match the smile on his face as we make our way outside to get the rest of the boxes. "Yeah, I'd say the same reasons have drawn me back to this place as well."

"Oh, good," someone calls just before we could exit, making Tom and I turn to the speaker. It was Berta, "you're both here. We need help giving the seniors grub. I'd love it if both my prettiest volunteers gave out the food so they wouldn't be so cranky."

Tom and I chuckle, catching each other's gaze along the way.

"Come on, lovies," she beckons, waving her hands, "I've got enough people on the job for the boxes."

When she walks off, I turn to Tom, who raises a hand, "after you."

I give him a nod and a soft smile as I trail after Berta.

Once we get to the cafeteria, it was apparent they really did need help giving out food, for not only were there many old ladies and gentlemen queued up impatiently, there were very apparent individuals giving the poor youth volunteers a hard time over the food.

Berta gives an exasperated gasp.

I place a hand on her shoulder as I watch the scene that was stressing her out, "I've got it," I mutter, walking over to the elderly gentleman and the young lady he was scolding.

Berta watches the scene play out, as does Tom behind her. Tom cannot help but chuckle at the exaggerated expressions and the big smile that replaces the loud remarks that was being thrown.

Berta lets out a sigh as he watched the periodically difficult man walk off happily, "that girl is truly a gem."

Tom nods, humming softly.

"Come along now, love, the food is not going to serve itself."

After disarming the intense argument, I release a sigh and find my way to the food stall, smiling at Tom who was there, blushing at the compliments the elderly ladies were giving him.

"Quite a popular fellow, aren't you," I tease, coming up to his side, as I ask the next person in line what they wanted to eat.

Tom smiles at the lady that tells him he's got gorgeous blue eyes. I chuckle to myself upon hearing it. He turns to me as he grabs an empty plate, "not nearly as popular as you though. You're clearly a fan favorite. Everyone has been asking me about you."

"Hmm, and what have you been saying?"

His lips curve, "that I have but only met the princess today myself, but I am sure she is as brilliant as they have been describing."

I playfully roll my eyes at him, just as a woman greets me by name and title. I match her small curtsy with a nod, as she then begins to trail off about how much she loved my mother, "I remember watching her wedding in '81. Oh, the princess was such a beauty, and you my dear, are the spitting image of her."

I offer her a smile, "that is truly such a compliment. I do try to be more like her everyday."

She sighs, "such a shame. She was gone too soon."

I nod, "yes. Yes, she was."

After that conversation, I the air between Tom and I became a bit rigid. I couldn't blame him. The topic usually elicits that type of reaction. I work on breaking the ice then.

"Tell me, Tom," I say, once we served the last of the people in line. I lean on the food cart as I turn to the taller man.

He nods and peers down on me, brushing off his sleeves along the way.

"Are you one of the very few people on earth that don't like Princess Diana?"

He chokes on his spit.

I snort, "I mean," I raise my hand in surrender, "I do recall how she kept me from eating chocolates to my hearts content, and I say, I still have a bit of resentment in me over that, even after all these years."

Tom breaks into a fit of laughs. It is enough to break his tension.

I join him with much softer laughter before adding, "or perhaps you're just upset you didn't manage to snag a roll in one of the many biographical shows about my family being produced."

Tom snorts again, pressing his lips tightly.

"I have the ladies over there to thank for the information of you being an actor," I tilt my head to the right.

He gathers himself and allows his chuckles to die down a little before continuing. Tom withholds his laughter as he jokes, "I'm actually rather upset over the fact you haven't seen my work."

I match his sarcastic expression with a sigh, "unfortunately, my time watching on the telly is quite limited. I don't have room for bad acting."

Tom hollers, gripping his chest as he throws his head back in laughter, "ok, now that hurts!"

I shrug, pouting as I pat his shoulder, "the truth hurts."

Before Tom could rebut, I hear my name get called by a woman. I pull away from Tom and spot Lizzie. She was, quite frankly, my biggest fan in the place. I wave to her as she does me. Soon enough, she is beckoning me over.

I nod as I smile at her, turning to Tom after, "duty calls."

"I'll be here waiting," he offers, "you've got this, your grace."

I raise a brow at him as I walk off, "it's your royal highness to you."

[esse-lunam]

an introduction to: my 90s fame dr!

please read this god please there's art in here also ive put 5+ months of work into this dr at this point so i swear that there's interesting shit in here yall I SWEAR I AM NICHE.

reblogs greatly appreciated! this took me forever teehee

ohhh my god this is a long time in the making, ive put this off for so, so long and i really couldn't tell you why. this can act as a script me into ur dr post if you like as well!

for starters, you can find my pinterest board for this dr here :3 just in case u want some cool visuals i guess :3

-

so lets get the basics outta the way shall we?

full name: marley jo veitch

nicknames: mar, marley barley, mars bars, tink (reserved for s/o), living poet (public figure nickname type deal? yknow how stevie nicks gets called the white witch? yeah that)

pronouns: they/she

DOB: june 1st, 1970 (which makes me a gemini btw!)

occupation: musician (piano, violin, guitar n bass, some drums, and saxophone), poet, author (fiction and nonfiction), actor on occasion, also a comedian that one time

skills: all things music + writing basically, film analysis, pop culture analysis i guess, home decor, drawing, fashion?, and being the most autistic person in the multiverse

appearance stats: 5'3", 145ish lbs, long brownish-reddish hair with some light brown highlights in there, sorta wavy but barely

body mods: COVERED in tats (theres a tattoo section on the pinterest board but i also drew some so), septum piercing, snake bites, and a fair few ear piercings. and also i have glasses but thats not a body mod thats just a thing on my body.

"workin and workin't? you have a job?" more on that later!

-

relationships and such! with photos!

s/o: robert sean leonard

"hey, do i recognise this guy?" you might! he played notable roles such as neil perry in dead poet's society, claudio in much ado about nothing, and james wilson in house md!

best friends: dylan kussman, allelon ruggiero, alexandra powers, and kimya dawson

"do i recognise more of these people?" again, probably! dylan, al, and alex were all in dead poets society, and kimya is a musician best known for her indie songs, some featured in the movie juno!

-

my career! (oh good lord)

writing based - undedicated musings

(1986-1993)

alright so this is a bit hard to explain, bear with me. undedicated musings is an anonymous newsletter-based poetry... publication? run by me, under the pen name 'chartreuse', and the whole shtick is that i write poetry, love letters, and whatever else to the person i'll end up spending my life with, but the recipient of said writings is completely unknown, even to me, so im kinda just writing to nobody. until! i actually set my eyes on someone (obviously rsl) and then the writings start to get a bit more specific and yearn-y and personal. since the recipient is anonymous, all the writings are written for a 'vermillion'. both chartreuse and vermillion's identities are revealed when we get married in 1993. and no, rsl doesn't know that i'm chartreuse, nobody does until i reveal myself. i think its kinda cool :3

film based - dead poet's society

(1988-1989)

so for starters, i was part of the crew that worked on the set of dead poets society, now all my friends (except kimya, her and i become friends in the late 90s) make sense! my actual job on set is kind of a vague be-here-and-do-a-bit-of-everything type deal, so there's no set title beyond "assistant to lead" even tho it's essentially government assigned 'friendship' LMAO. but! me and the cast get on like a house on fire, so i kinda just get to tag along on their wacky teenage-ish boy adventures. this totally does not stem from a desire to be part of a teenage boy friend group, and i am, in fact, totally cisgender. i am also lying. anyway, without going into too much detail, me and my s/o-not-yet-s/o (will be referring to him as rsl from this point on) sorta have a painstakingly long will they wont they type deal, because i guess i like torturing myself. we meet a day before all the actual film stuff starts just as a sort of preliminary get to know eachother because you'll be in close proximity VERY often for months. thats some time in march - june-ish? of 1988 (i shift to my dr the day before!) and we don't actually get together until june of 1989. so.

also! some changes to the movie because i can make those: knox overstreet is now played by matthew lillard instead of josh charles, because josh charles is a fucking zionist and i dont want to associate with him in any reality! knox also isnt a b plot to the movie at all, instead focusing on meeks and pitts because i find them much more interesting! and also knox's b plot is creepy as hell! also, the racism against natives (read this!) is completely gone! no thanks!

music based - MAURZI

(1988-2004 technically)

strap in boys because this is the main event of this dr and the lore is VAST. MAURZI (must be spelled in all caps, like MF DOOM) is a sort of musical person/character i've made to tell the story of via a series of albums. i release my first single in october of 1988 titled "lunarian", which is a fun little song about a being from the moon arriving on earth and having some inter-planetary culture shock. and thats the only song i've actually planned! i release 6 total albums that map out the MAURZI storyline kinda

- MAURZI (1989)

- GONE TO SHIT! (1991)

- Charmed (1992)

- I found Him in Santa Barbara (1995)

- Waterworks (1998)

- also bibliography (2004) but those are released as songs By Me and not MAURZI, just released under the same artist. MAURZI storyline ends with Waterworks.

now here's where you get the very extensive MAURZI lore. MAURZI is a sort of alternate-universe representation of me, where in i'm much more famous than i actually am in my dr, and i am absolutely RUINED by my fame in a fuck ton of ways. each album is a different section of her life so i'll explain it album by album. also for reference, in my dr capitalism/ currency isnt a thing, but in the MAURZI... verse? it is. because i like anti capitalist art! same goes for most other media im in/ participate in, actually. MAURZI uses she/her pronouns btw, i dont.

MAURZI - my self-titled album is about as close and personal to my life as i'll get, which an average amount because i still throw in some songs about shit that i have not at all done/ experienced. (ex. songs about cheating, toxic relationships, and things along those lines. thankfully ive had a mostly healthy relationship with relationships! except that one time!) MAURZI is new to the music scene but she's here to make some lovely tunes to help process some stuff! artists im taking inspiration from include (but are not limited to): sarah kinsley, dodie, jeff buckley, tv girl, mitski, and peach pit.

GONE TO SHIT! - MAURZI's first album blew the fuck up! now she's thrown into the midst of dealing with an incomprehensible amount of attention on her at all times, which she was absolutely not prepared for. what does she do to cope? sex drugs and rock n roll, baby! she also gets addicted to 2 outta those 3 things! can you guess which ones?? now, obviously, this album is entirely fictional and is only tangentially inspired by some life events, heavy emphasis on the tangentially. artists im taking inspiration from include (but are not limited to): the nonstick pans, panic! at the disco, forest, david bowie, chappel roan, and king gizzard & the lizard wizard.

Charmed - the love song album! this is basically comprised of songs i sorta wrote about rsl, but changed up a fuck ton because i wrote them while i was pining and did Not want him to knkw who they were about. in terms of MAURZI stuff, she meets someone just after deciding that she's gotta clean up her act if she wants to exist healthily. recovering alongside a loved one and them being a motivator for recovery! now i should specify here that MAURZI's s/o is not the same as mine, and is entirely gender neutral/ doesn't even have a canon(?) human appearance at all. they're named Vermillion because we love a callback! artists im taking inspiration from include (but are not limited to): the smiths, siouxsie and the banshees, james blake, queen, laufey, and her's.

I found Him in Santa Barbara - yknow how when a banana ripens too much and it starts to tuen brown? yeah imagine that logic but applied to recovery, i guess. NOW IS A GOOD TIME TO REITERATE THAT MAURZI AND I ARE TWO DIFFERENT PEOPLE AND MAURZI IS JUST A CHARACTER. essentially MAURZI had a spiritual awakening and "found god." but what that ACTUALLY means is that she started viewing vermillion as a sort of god? but she's keeping it on the down low (making an album about it) because she doesn't want vermillion to thing she's CRINGE. themes of loving a god, being IN love with a god, being in lust with a god, temporarily thinking youre a god? stuff along those lines. its a bit intense, VERY experimental and.. heavy? both in themes and in musical style for some portions. this is my fav album out of all of them if you couldnt tell. artists im taking inspiration from include (but are not limited to): sleep token, WILLOW, type o negative, slipknot, lemon demon (specifically songs off spirit phone), hozier, violent vira, pierce the veil, gorillaz kinda, bjork, kate bush, deftones, destroy boys, and rammstein probably.

Waterworks - so yknow how MAURZI was having a whole trouble with god moment? yeah well thats gone now, no i haven't figured out how that'll work narratively, thats for me to figure out in like 10 years from now (now being 1988, naturally.) we've returned to our self-titled roots in terms of musical style! now we've just got some fun themes of trauma and such! and then that's the and of MAURZI as a character story wise, as i said earlier the album after this one is just a Me album. same artist inspo as self titled!

and guess what! music lore isnt even fuckin done! my music in this dr is a multiverse in itself goddamn. so basically the album covers for each album tell a completely seperate story about a completely seperate alter ego/ character/ whatever named Moonzi. name given by my audience (which is my excuse for coming up with such a shitty name and then keeping it.) the story of moonzi, without going into too much detail because i dont wanna type it all out, is a sci-fi type story about a being from the moon (lunarian callback!) on a quest to bring this space artifact back to its original place, basically. a bit more on it later, emphasis on a bit. also! each album cover is drawn by a different artist, and each album artist animates one official music video off their respective album, just cuz i like art and stuff! those music videos kinda follow the moonzi storyline loosely, but incorporate MAURZI elements. is this confusing? hope not. drawings!

writing based - novels

can you believe im still not done? like not even close? certified yapper. anyway! my 3 fiction novels (Manchester, NH - 1991, Curator Rye, 1997, Sand Dollars + Pearls - 2008) are about my ocs basically! thats it really, i dont feel the need to share the plots of those tbh.

writing based - autobiographies

two? yep! one is a fictional autobiography about MAURZI (MAURZI - 1999) and one is a non fictional autobiography about me (Radio Free Marley - 2012.) take a shot every time i say MAURZI and you will need to get your stomach pumped. she just. she means a lot to me :3

film based - doctor who

(1994-1999)*

*these dates are when im on the show btw, not its total runtime, same applies to other cr existing shows.

big disclaimer: never seen doctor who. dont know the plot, dont know which doctor i'm gonna be, i just wanna be in it.

so! my version of the doctor is kinda weird. its one doctor, but played by two people, but theyre one person. we're both the doctor. and by we i mean both me and rsl, obviously. the viewer sees the doctor as two different people, but NOBODY ELSE IN THE DAMN SHOW besides our little companion buddy guy (played by my cr friend fish!) SEES, ACKNOWLEDGES, OR IS ABLE TO VIEW THE DOCTOR AS TWO PEOPLE. its really complicated and i really did not have to make it that way, but its cool to me so i really dont care. also we're breakjng the doctor who cycle of boring suit and tie (this is NOT about you 15 <3) and going steampunk-esque. again, cuz i wanna.

film based - house md

(2005 - 2010)

marley veitch be in a show without rsl challenge (failed.) i play a character i made up named Nanette Amesbury who is essentially wilson's first ex wife. does he have a canon first ex wife? think so (i actually havent finished house oops.) do i care? you can take a guess. nanette (nicknamed ninny - which im well aware means dumb) is the director of the pediatrics department at princeton plainsboro and she kinda has a fwb type deal with wilson before figuring out shes a lesbian, having a crush on cuddy, being besties with kutner, then leaving the show in season 6. (zeth if ur reading this yes i made her show up for more than 2 seconds she just. means so much to me. also i want cudbury content.) im also a writer for the show so im there for its entire run time :3 i really like this show :3

film based - moonzi

(2016)

YEAHHHHH BABY SHES BACK!!! moonzi's storyline gets adapted into an adult swim animated tv show! i do screenwriting, stiryboarding, and voice acting! style wise, think teen titans mixed with bojack horseman mixed with archer. sick space visuals also!

comedy based - dying art

(2020)

idk i wanted to do a standup special! dunno what it's about. ill leave that up to future me to decide because this isn't happening for 32 damn years and i really just dont wanna come up with a standup special rn.

film based - radio free marley

(whenever)

i wanted a biopic, but i wanted it to be both about me and MAURZI, and how points in my life influenced or inspire songwriting. so the episode structure is like

ep 1: about me, point in my life

ep 2: about MAURZI, point in her life thats sorta related but not entirely to the events in ep 1

ep 3: about me, point in my life

ep 4: about MAURZI, point in her life thats sorta related but not entirely to the events in ep 3

ep 5: you get the idea

and then this goes on for 12 episodes and ends with the MAURZI story wrapping up and with me sorta retiring kinda. dont know when it'll be made, probably at some point in my 60s or whatever. im permashifting if you couldnt tell btw.

and thats it! after all this im just kinda existing and living life and whatever else. so with that outta the way i'll list some fun facts and i'll FINALLY BE DONE JESUS CHRIST IVE BEEN WRITING THIS FOR LIKE 3 HOURS.

- i live in new york city! manhattan to be specific

- i also have a lake house in new hampshire because i Need to be in a rural area at some points

- my house's interior design is very 70s themed and its WHIMSICAL AND FUN! maximalism, whimsigoth, nooks and crannys to be in, fun and varied seating options, conversation pit, loft bedroom, whole 9 yards. ive also got a gazebo on my roof!

- i have 2 siblings in my dr (not here im an only child in my cr womp womp) named lia and monty, theyre my best friends in my cr!

- ive also got a cat! she's a ragdoll kitty named yvonne, shes a sweetheart!

- i scripted out light pollution so the sky is all pretty at night, highly recommend you do the same

- im in STOMP at one point, dont know or care when, i just wanna be in it

- robin williams........... he is a father figure to me................ sniff sob

- yes i scripted out his death i simply cannot deal with that

- PUBLIC TRANSPORT AND WALKABLE SOCIETY!!!!! NO MORE CAR BASED US SOCIEY WOOOO!!!

- i cant fucking believe i havent mentioned this yet but im scottish?? im not scottish in my cr i was just thinking about david tennant when i was forming the dr idea back in january and it stuck. MAURZI is american tho

- hilson is canon in my dr LMAOAOOA

- thats all i got

sweet lord in heaven above if you've read this whole thing im giving u a big kiss. this is so long and i really dont wanna proofread it so im not gonna, excuse any spelling or grammar mistakes.

[inkyquester]

Hey I really need help on this!

Soo I'll call him R here. But he use to be a good friend, we became friend when I became friend with M&M (two friends who's names start with M I'll call them M 1 And M 2) They helped me with leaving a really toxic friend and leaving my toxic Bothfriend.. Though next year (or current year) he started bullying me on some stuff I didn't take notice of first, he bullied me off of gacha (I left because of him AND the community's toxicity so don't push the blame ALL the way on him) my weight by saying when ever I run down the stairs by saying "Whenever Abby (I'll use my dead name because it isn't my name anymore, but he wasn't using my now name anyway) walks down the stairs she (purposefully misgendering me at this point) is so loud", and then some other stuff like bullying me because I have a crush on ink bendy by loudly pointing it out each time I bring up something bendy related infront of his friends or parents by saying "Oh yeah btw Abby has a crush on bendy!" and kinda bully me and loudly go "why do you even crush on him? I don't see anyway you could be attracted to him" (I crush on him because I feel attraction for demonic characters easily and we relate EXTREMELY) he also has a fictional crush though. I'll try to put some screenshots of a conversation that wasn't so bad but still talking about me crushing on bendy. He's usually chill but he also doesn't seem to understand alot of things (he's only a year younger then me and my other friends that are about his age seem to know more and understand more though, which makes me feel like he's not actually listening) he also wants to help work on my treegrounds project but he profusely bullies the fact I don't want to use voice actors. He also says "I believe that there are the two main genders and then nonbinary" which I don't really like that statement because there IS more then 3 gender identitys, he also believes that pansexual and omnisexual people should really exist because they don't make since (that hurt me a lot because I use to be open about being pansexual, am not anymore though.) he also said he didn't get the point of being poly, which I understand that one. He also is rude to adults and complains and yells whenever he doesn't get whatever he wants. Am probably gonna tag some of my mutuals for help below (if you feel bad and want me to vent to you, please don't. Am use to this stuff and doesn't affect me too much. I also just don't like venting to others)

He’s a school friend btw

Mutuals I want to vote which one:

@boltzthespooky @cutebendy @meow-and-ink-demon @stinger-shot @mutedsybille @thistlehorse @murder-clown-around-town @jupejumble

[our-aroace-experience]

Hi! Thank you for responding to my message, I'm the anon from this post - https://www.tumblr.com/our-aroace-experience/741231717716836352/hi-i-was-on-the-asexual-tag-saw-this-blog-and?source=share

So I have a new question lol - for my aspecs out there, do any of you feel attraction to masculine/masculinity and feminine/femininity? For me that attraction falls under aesthetic, romantic, and alterous. Because (which is why using bi or pan still feels clunky for me) my attraction towards the people I liked...I guess I don't like putting any label that has a specific definition that doesn't allow for nuance. So I guess fluid and or queer fits best - it allows nuance and I need that space because my experiences aside from asexual do not fit well into concrete definitions.

I'm rambling and bouncing off ideas with yall who are reading.

For my high school crush who was my non hetero awakening - I liked how cute she was, how her voice sounded, liked looking at her aesthetic wise as it pleased me how her face was organized lol. And this actually wasn't the first time I felt attraction to a person who IDs as a girl; I always forget because at the time I wasn't aware it was a crush, a celebrity crush but a crush nonetheless - I was 12 so very unaware of anything lgbtq. The actress was Phoebe Tonkin from H20 Just Add Water, a mermaid show, and Tonkin in 2007 - 2011 had me locked in. I watched YouTube slide shows of her model photoshoots - looking back it was a clear crush, anything with her in it I was watching. (I have also been a lifelong mermaid fan since age 3 so that also probably helped.) It was the same thing, she was INSANELY cute, perfect cheeks, perfect smile, gorgeous doe eyes, sweet lips etc. I should have mentioned her in my original anon but I must have suppressed those feelings because I truly do forget about them. Oh and as I am writing, I just remembered loving to look at the Olivia Hussey in her version Romeo and Juliet too...and currently a few girls in my life I'm around that I've noticed. I must still be subconsciously suppressing these feelings.... But all of that is also how I felt about the boys I liked, past and present. Basically the soft look the cute boys - pretty, scraggly, alt, dorky boy - also had me sprung. In the past, Dylan O Brian, boy crushes from school...currently right now my newest celeb crush is a voice actor named Kaiji Tang and his voice is my kryptonite and he aint bad to look at either. But again, soft face, sweet smile etc. So yes I definitely have a favorite look and, yes, giggly daydreams about them have/has happened too. Thinking about it more, all those attributes fall under femininity/feminine - so now I'm thinking am I just attracted to feminine traits specifically cute - ya know? But then I do love me a beard, not just a mustache, (Tang has one) which I do see as a masculine thing so I also like masculine/masculinity but it seems like I lean more toward feminine. That route can be found in men and women.

Again, I hope I made some form of sense.

yeah it definitely makes sense, though unfortunately i wouldn't know any labels for that, anyone with ideas feel free to share them!

[irithnova]

Can't believe I'm discourse posting again but whatever.

While I may not have 100% been on board with the uh. Rusame edging response post because I have extremely "problematic" ships myself and have described Mongolia and China's relationship as being "married/divorced" so I'm not really any better than the edging shit in that sense, I think a lot of the replies were made in extremely bad faith and some pretty nasty people took advantage of the situation in their own ways.

The person who was vagued about had the right to respond of course and yeah it can be classified as ship hate considering it was put in the tags however people are seriously running over the fact that the poster themselves are Uzbek-Korean so yeah they'd understandably have some complex feelings about Russia and America if you know even the general history. The post perhaps wasn't worded that well and was an attack on rusame simply because of a comedic analogy of the relationship made by a shipper, but that anger didn't just come from like. Absolutely nowhere.

You had people in the comments slinging fucking 4chan lingo at OP (same person who did this supports a well known Zionist in the fandom why am I not surprised) and then much bigger content creators making posts and comments about how OP and their entire friendgroup are nothing more than butthurt sjws who are pushing people out of the fandom (and I can't believe people are still unironically using "sjw" in 2024 I guess anything is possible).

Extremely bad faith actors coming out of the woodworks who have had problems with OP and their friendgroup for completely different reasons using OPs hate post about rusame and the subsequent dogpiling as an excuse to publicly lie about the nature of the friendship and how it broke down. I find it extremely cowardly that months ago, when confronted privately about bad behaviour such as gossiping behind people's backs and confronted with the fact the person she was gossipping with is a prolific emotional abuser and racist, Verta blocked everyone and said she didn't want to get involved in "drama".

Now that someone within the group - a minor no less, who barely engaged with Verta herself during the course of her contact with them group, is being publicly dogpiled by multiple big creators - NOW Verta has the courage to come rear her head, engage in drama be like "they're all a bunch of sjws who hate white people!".

If you want to go back to 2016 for fresh "SJWS/feminists OWNED!" compilations, be my guest.

I find it extremely ironic how Verta is calling OP "fandom police" when Verta herself tried to gatekeep someone's identity/relationship to China....over hetalia art. I guess it's not policing when you want to be a bigot, but it's policing when someone from a certain background has unpleasant feelings towards a ship.

A lot of the vague posting about "WOW I LOVE RUSAME SO MUCH" afterwards I think was also extremely childish considering *gestures to the fact that OP is Uzbek-Korean* so yeah. They made an angry post about rusame that should have been handled privately between them and the person they were vaguing about however they do have some extremely personal reasons as to why they may have strong feelings about it.

It wasn't just an ordinary "rusame sucks and rusame shippers should die lol!" post made by an angry rando who likes perhaps Russia x [different country] and is butthurt at the attention rusame is getting but the way people are responding with "rusame is the beat ship evaa <33" posts in response to it - you'd think that was what OP posted instead of like. An emotionally charged (but poorly handled) post about Russian and American imperialism as someone who's family/countries has been affected by both.

Again I'm not in a place to judge rusame shippers considering the shit I ship and say - you can do what you want and I actually like cold war stuff myself. I just find a few of the responses extremely childish considering the circumstances surrounding why the post was made and a few were absolutely done in bad faith in order to paint OP as being nothing more than an angry sJw!!1 when. Again. *Gestures at Uzbekistan's history with Russia and Korea's history with America*

Also. I'm sorry but rusame is the most popular ship in the fandom right now. You guys will live if (1) child who comes from that background makes an emotionally charged post about it. There's no need for an onslaught of personal attacks and hateful anons. Jesus Christ I received death threats for shipping Monchu and I didn't even respond like that.

[teeth--thief]

I would be interested in so called “hater diaries”.

- Rodka

[Referencing this post] Of course you would, you absolute angel... Imma tag you now that you have a blog @atomshchik ☆

The channel I was talking about is Chernobylite (yes, as in the Chernobylite - the game one). Listen... if anyone should be able able to criticise this guy, I think it should be me. Pole on Pole violence 👊💥👊💥

Let's get cracking... under the cut.

One thing you have to keep in mind when watching anything on the internet about Chernobyl: if they bring up HBO's show as a credible source, quote it, use mostly stills or photos of the scenery or actors instead of of the real stuff etc etc - that is a flag more red than that of the Soviet Union, okay? HBO in thumbnails? Unless it's a "this show is extremely inaccurate" kind of video, that's most likely due to a) the lack of knowledge about actual credible sources or b) need for profit (monkey sees, monkey does clicks - the show is incredibly popular, putting imagery related to it means a higher chance people will choose your video).

To keep it short and (not at all) sweet: this guy is like the evil brother of That Chernobyl Guy. This is That Bare Minimum Chernobyl Man, though. He uploads a video at least once a week and they always JUST BARELY hit the 10 minute mark. But they always do. Hm... I wonder why... I sure do wonder what the number 10 and YouTube have in common... oh. Oh yeah. It starts with MONETI and ends with SATION Need a hint? Mhm, I didn't think so. Speaking of time, the intro is usually almost 2 minutes long, the outro a minute and, there you go, suddenly there's actually even less content than expected.

He has some genuinely bad takes sometimes, too. I don't know if I'm just sensitive about Toptunov specifically (I very clearly am) or if his video on him is just especially offensive to me... and it's 12 minutes 😍😍 two more than usual! And so, I'll use this video as an example. (edit during drafting: he had just released a video on N.M. Fomin which... I'll watch once I'll have some time to waste and we'll see how bad that one is...)

>Not even 20 seconds in and he just HAD TO hit us with that ThAt Is ThE cOsT oF lIeS, of course, you know it brother 💯🔥‼️ Oh get over yourself. Find another quote. And stop putting pictures of my favourite operator next to his blonde twink counterpart from the show. I'm offended on his behalf.

>I like how he just takes random pics off of Google Images or something. The photo he uses at 2:00 is from a Reddit post on r/chernobyl, and it's a picture of a picture - didn't feel like looking for a better one, huh? Someone's a little lazy?

>The video ACTUALLY starts at 2:30. Girlllll (gn) you are so slowwwww, pick up the peace, we're all getting old waiting for you to start.

>The picture slideshow we're getting is almost never relevant to what he's saying. He's saying where Toptunov was born and all we see is the reactor after explosion. Like, okay brother, I didn't know that's how SuMY, in BuRYN, as he says, looked like then. A map from Wikipedia wasn't available? That's the best you can do? Not to mention a few of his videos literally have the same b-roll. It feels like the same video over and over again.

>He claims that "his father's connection probably were useful" when it came to him pursing a career in science... would you like to show me when exactly they could have been useful? When he was taking an entrance exam for uni just like everybody else? Or was it when he had to work his way up from the very bottom of the NPP food work chain? Unless you were a child of someone real high up and wanted to pursue a career of doing fuckall then your nepo baby status wouldn't help you all that much. Your party connections would help you move up faster, sure, but you wouldn't be able to not pass the necessary training and/or exams.

"(...) no good scientist could dream of a good job in a nuclear programme without being somewhat involved in local politics." We don't even know if Toptunov himself was in the party. We know that Akimov was quite the dedicated party man, sure. But Stolyarchuk wasn't in the party at all and Dyatlov wasn't cool with the party and the party wasn't cool with him. How many more times can I say party? Too many parties. I hate parties. He also goes on to say that, after graduation he could only get an entry level position because "He would need really good connections to acquire higher ranking job without any previous experience" I am very sorry to inform you but that's just not how real life works. Maybe if you have a good degree, you can immediately become the CEO of all the janitors in the building but that's about that when it comes to the seriousness of the job.

>Now, the part that made me audibly GASP starts at 6:30:

(...) many power plant staff were dismissed, including those from the night shift at unit 4. Including Toptunov, many were labelled non-essential personnel and sent home. That was probably a part of managing the disaster from a propaganda perspective. Fewer people on site, fewer witnesses.

This is an actually DERANGED take. This was my breaking point... like, you cannot be serious right now. Not the evil Soviet scientists and their evil propaganda...! The evil propaganda of safety...! I'm sorry to inform you but ever single person in charge there wasn't immediately thinking "By Lenin, how can we ensure these horrible bottom feeders, also known as our colleagues, we're employing at our power plant don't say a word to anyone outside?" They were most likely thinking "If this part of the personnel is literally useless, why would they stay in this potentially dangerous zone? Let's get them out - for their safety and liquidation organisation's sake."

>"As he later stated (...)" We don't know what he stated. We don't have a single word that came out of his mouth recorded anywhere. It's all they said that he said. Or the authors of books want to show how much they think they know (look no further than Medvedev's "acording to Toptunov..." yes, I'm sure you know exactly what he thought about everything. Surely. You must have spoken to him. Through a Ouija Board, clearly). We'd need the statements from the KGB and whatnot to actually determine what any of them said or thought.

>"(...) During that time when he felt better, he had spoken multiple times to both Akimov and Dyatlov (...)" Acording to some book, I'm sorry, I don't remember which one, he was one of the few people that actually didn't get up from his bed to participate in the discussions, probably because his legs were already in a bad shape. Take this with a grain of salt, though. Nobody explicitly said he NEVER hang out with anyone at the hospital. It's just that worth noting that there's a possibility he at least didn't do that as much as the rest of the guys.

Overall grade: read a book. Change the boring ass b-roll shots. Change the stock sounding "creepy" music. Put some effort into everything. Stop relying on HBO's Chernobyl.

Conclusion: you'll never be That Chernobyl Guy xoxo That Chernobyl Guy for the president

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Santa Bring My Baby Back

Fandom: Actor, American Actor, RPF, Elvis Presley

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Female Reader

Characters: Elvis Presley, Female Reader, Lisa Marie Presley, Jerry Schilling, Red West, Sonny West, Joe Esposito, Memphis Mafia, Lamar Fike

Word Count: 3208 // Rating: Mature

Summary: There’s a new Santa in town but not everyone’s happy with the new change

Tags/ Warnings: Body Issues, Weight Gain, Body Image Issues, Self Loathing, Big Daddy Elvis, Memphis Mafia, Christmas, Christmas at Graceland, Reader is Lisa’s Mother, Kisses, Hugging, Implied Sex, Santa, Dressing Up As Santa, Holiday Party, Fluff, Angst, Snowball Fights, Memphis Mafia [of absolute children], Established Relationship, Marriage, 

Notes: i am currently in love with big daddy Elvis BUT I  got carried away with him being a lil self conscious. This is very a la Dave from Full Monty.

Updated 8/23

‘No, no, it’s okay….’ I said. ‘I don’t know what he was thinking! Nearly 40 and still carrying on like he’s 10!’ Nora sighed. ‘They’re all as bad as one another,’ I chuckled as I remembered watching the snowball fight my husband had been having early this morning with his friends. All party members were married and some even had kids but no. Out in our vast backyard, you’d never know there were actual kids around as the men divided up into teams hell-bent on getting each other as wet and frozen as possible. And it had all been fun and games until Lamar had run off the grass and onto the icy stone patio and gone over on his ankle. The boys had laughed but seeing that he was actually hurt Elvis had insisted that he get checked out at the hospital. Which is why Nora was ringing.

‘Well the doc’s gonna patch him up but he’s not gonna be able to walk on it for a bit at least not without crutches,’ Nora said, ‘so he’s not gonna be able to do it.’ ‘Don’t worry about it,’ I said. ‘He feels awful about letting ya down,’ she said. ‘Well he always does an amazing job but he’s no good to us hobbling about,’ I chuckled, ‘I’m sure it’ll be fine, we’ll sort something out. Just come for the party.’ ‘You sure?’ she said. ‘You didn’t think you’d be banished did you?’ I said rolling my eyes, ‘I’m sure if we station him on the couch with a beer in hand he’ll be fine.’ ‘Yeah, I bet,’ she giggled, ‘I’ll let him know and we’ll be over at six.’ ‘See you then, bye,’ I said getting a goodbye in return. With a sigh, I placed the receiver back in its place. ‘What’s up?’ Jerry said as I did. We were standing in the kitchen putting the finishing touches to the food for tonight. It was for our annual Christmas Party a feat I loved putting together. It was a night of food, booze, family and friends. The kids were even included in the earlier part. Santa would visit and give them all a present each before they’d get to camp out in the basement watching Christmas movies. That was when the adult party started. 

It was a bit merrier. A bit lewder. But it still shared that special something. It was something I was immensely proud of. Except this year had a snag. Our Santa, Lamar for the other 364 days of the year, was no longer in play. ‘Lamar’s sprained his ankle,’ I said continuing to pipe on the cookies I had been sorting out before the phone had rung. ‘Shit,’ Jerry said, ‘he did take quite the tumble.’ ‘Yeah well he sure paid the price for it,’ I said, ‘I mean I don’t know what’s worse the injury or having to tell the doctor he did it in a snowball fight.’ ‘Yeah let’s hope he thought of a cover,’ Jerry chuckled as he wrapped a plate of chicken wings with cling film. ‘Well we’re gonna have to think of one too,’ I said, Jerry’s brows knitted together with confusion, ‘we don’t have a Santa now.’ ‘Oh yeah,’ Jerry said. 

As he did Elvis entered with Red, Sonny and Joe trailing behind him. He came to the counter I was standing at and placed his hand on my hip, pressing a kiss to my temple.

‘Everything ready?’ I asked looking up at him. ‘Yes honey,’ he said with a smirk before he went to grab a coke out of the fridge. The boys stationed themselves around the kitchen looking at the various plates of food already ready to be laid out in the dining room. ‘Good,’ I smiled, ‘because we’ve got a problem.’ ‘Oh?’ Elvis said coming back to me. As he pinched a cookie off the plate I smacked his hand and took it off him, placing it back on the tray. ‘Behave,’ I said warningly earning a smirk from him. ‘God damn dictatorship,’ he mumbled making me roll my eyes. ‘What’s the problem?’ Red asked ignoring us. ‘Lamar’s sprained his ankle,’ Jerry said. ‘I knew he took that fall hard,’ Elvis said, ‘he alright?’ ‘Nora said he’s fine but it means we haven’t got a Santa for tonight,’ I said. ‘Shit yeah,’ Red said, ‘well I’m sure we can find someone to replace him.’ ‘Yeah baby, don’t worry we’ll sort it,’ Elvis said looking at me with a small smile. I turned to look up at him with a hesitant expression. 

‘I was hoping you’d say that,’ I said with a smile. ‘What me?’ he baulked. ‘Well..’ ‘Why would I wanna dress up as Santa?’ he scoffed. ‘Come on EP,’ Red chuckled, ‘we always have a Santa.’ ‘Yeah and it’s always Lamar,’ he said icily. ‘Please baby,’ I said wrapping my arms around his middle. He held me but his face was still contorted in a scowl which was directed towards the boys. I moved one of my hands to his front and tiptoed my fingers up his chest until I was touching his chin, forcing him to look at me, ‘please?’ ‘Why me? Why can’t one of these clowns do it,’ he sighed. ‘Because it’s gotta be perfect,’ I reasoned. ‘Yeah Santa’s rosy-cheeked right?’ Joe said, ‘we send Red in there they’re gonna be thinkin’ Santa’s never seen the sun.’ ‘And we can’t have a Santa that’s shorter than the kids so Joe’s out,’ Red quipped earning a chuckle from Elvis and Jerry. As the pair tussled a little I looked back at Elvis capturing his attention. ‘See? They’re not my big strong Santa,’ I smirked, ‘the one who’d do anything for me right?’ ‘Just the once right?’ he said skeptically. I nodded. He closed his eyes for a moment and then nodded, ‘fine.’

I clapped my hands together and pulled him in for a kiss. Looks like tonight wasn’t going to be a bust after all. 

✵✵✵

The night was going smoothly. Despite the blizzarding snow outside the fire crackled accompanying the holiday records that played through the air. Conversations were working alongside each other, punctuated by the giggles and laughter of the kids who were playing in and out of the living and dining room. Our guests were enjoying themselves and I rested against the archway of our living room so was I. I sipped my glass of champagne and smiled watching it all happen. Then I noticed a figure at the top of the stairs. I looked up to find Red moving at a pace down them, giving me a look as he reached the bottom. 

‘Hey,’ I said grabbing a hold of Lisa and Sandy as they ran by me, ‘come on everyone in the living room.’ ‘Why Mama?’ Lisa said looking up at me with those big blue eyes. ‘Because I think I hear something,’ I said scooping her up and going to sit on the couch. She sat on my knee, her hand on my cheek as she looked around the room. All of the other kids were in the living room now, some clung to parents who had told them to behave and others congregated in the middle questioning why they had been told to stop playing. ‘What is it?’ Cindy, Joe’s daughter said. ‘I hear it too,’ Sonny said. ‘Me too,’ Jerry chuckled as the faint sound of bells echoed outside the room. The room erupted into furious whispers as all the kids exuded excitement. A couple of them scouted out the stairs and spotted ‘Santa’ coming down them. 

‘Is it really Santa Mama?’ Lisa whispered as she peered out into the hallway. ‘It really is baby,’ I said as Elvis appeared at the living room entryway. ‘Hello boys and girls,’ he boomed in a voice unlike his own. Despite his reluctance, he was done up to the nines. His suit was immaculate and the only telltale sign it was him was those shining blue eyes I adored so much. A chorus of ‘hello Santas’ rang back at him. He moved to sit in the chair we had stationed by the tree as some of the bolder kids congregated around him. Lisa stayed on my knee, however, still a little wary. 

‘Now, I’ve been told there are lots of good girls and boys here is that right?’ Elvis said receiving excited shouts from the kids, ‘well that’s very good because I happen to have lots of presents here for those boys and girls!’ Elvis leaned into his sack and pulled out a neatly wrapped parcel. ‘Debbie?’ he asked looking for Joe’s little girl. She pushed through the crowd with a beaming smile and walked right into him as he handed her her gift, ‘here you go sweetheart.’ ‘Thank you Santa,’ she said taking it from his hands and running to her Dad so she could open it, allowing Elvis to dive back inside his sack for the next kid. This had become one of my favourite parts of the party. Though admittedly it had started as a way to get the kids to migrate downstairs I had now come to love it. I picked out presents for each kid, ensuring it was something they really wanted. Santa’s sack would also appear later in the night though those presents were less about the perfect gift and more about what would get a laugh. 

He moved through each present presenting it to every child who ripped them open with enthusiasm. Lisa watched from my knee as every kid got a gift. As he got to the end of the sack she looked up at me worry dancing across her young features. 

‘That seems to be it,’ Elvis said, tying his sack back up. ‘Uh, Santa?’ I said catching his attention and sliding Lisa off my knee, ‘could you please check again? Just in case?’ ‘I don’t think it’ll be any different but okay,’ Elvis said, winking at me as he did an exaggerated look into his bag, ‘oh, I seem to have missed one! This must be for you.’

Lisa turned around to look at me and I nodded encouraging her to go up to him. She walked tentatively forward until she was stood between his legs. ‘And what’s your name little girl?’ he asked. ‘Lisa Marie,’ she said, chewing on her finger nervously. ‘And have you been a good girl this year?’ he asked with a smile. Lisa nodded enthusiastically, ‘well then this must be for you.’ ‘Thank you Santa,’ she said leaning in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Elvis stroked her cheek, pulling back as she ran to me, her gift in her hands. 

‘Look what Santa got me Mama!’ she said. ‘Woah baby!’ I said, ‘we’ll open it in a minute okay?’ ‘Kay,’ she giggled, clutching it to her chest. Elvis stood up and swung his bag over his shoulder. ‘Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy your presents,’ he said walking away and waving as he did so. The kids waved goodbye though there was certainly less interest in him now they all had their various gifts. I let Lisa open her present, a doll she had been eyeing for months, and then Joan and I shepherded the kids downstairs to the basement which had been decked out for a slumber party. Once they were all situated and the TV was up and running we returned to the party. 

Fortunately, the wrapping paper and boxes had been kindly cleared away and the music was back on full volume. Though as I looked around I noticed something missing. Elvis. I checked the clock which told me I had only been gone ten minutes though I was sure it wouldn’t have taken him that long to get changed. 

‘Where is he?’ I asked Jerry, who was now sitting on the chair Elvis had vacated. ‘He’s not come back down yet I don’t think,’ he shrugged. I nodded and headed to find him. 

He was in our bedroom, sitting on our bed, though I didn’t spot him at first. The lamps were off, the only source of light coming from the bathroom door being open a crack and the low moonlight coming in through the window. I flicked on the lights  and moved to the window to shut the curtains. 

‘Lisa can’t believe she got that doll! Like she hasn’t been asking for it for the past two months!’ I chuckled yet as I turned around my face fell. He was sitting on the bed still in the Santa suit, though the beard and hat were gone now and his jacket was unbuttoned leaving him partially shirtless. He wasn’t looking at me though, his head was hung as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders, ‘everything okay?’ ‘Why wouldn’t it be?’ he said with a half-hearted snort. He stood up now, shirking his jacket off and throwing it on the bed. ‘Baby-’ I started but he cut me off. He threw his hands on his hips and looked at me. ‘Why me?’ he said. ‘What?’ ‘Why did you pick me to be Santa?’ he asked. ‘Because it’s our party,’ I said not knowing what he was getting at. ‘So?’ ‘So I wanted it to be good. And I know you’d be good at it,’ I said, confused by his line of questioning, ‘I mean didn’t you see the way those kids looked at you?’ ‘You mean they were happy you managed to find some other fat guy right?’ he spat. ‘What?!’ I asked perplexed. ‘That’s why it had to be me right? Jerry’s too well built, Joe’s too scrawny,’ he said, ‘better get your fat husband to do it.’ ‘That’s not true!’ I protested. ‘No, I’m just you’re ‘big strong Santa’ right?’ he said shaking his head. He sat down on the bed, hanging his head again. My heart squoze tighter in my chest. 

I’d upset him. It wasn't the first time. He was a sensitive man I knew that but I didn’t know he was feeling like this. That however unintentional my words were they’d hurt him. I took a moment, trying to think of what to say, before I moved to stand between his legs, perching on his knee as I forced him to look up at me. The mirth and merriment he had been wearing not ten minutes ago was gone, replaced with sadness.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said quietly, ‘I didn’t mean to upset you…I didn’t notice.’ ‘You didn’t notice I’m the second fattest guy around here now right?’ he scoffed. I placed my hand on his cheek and stroked it gently with my thumb. ‘I didn’t notice that’s how my words might sound….but I didn’t pick you to be Santa because of that. Hell if it was just about getting someone to fit in the damn suit I’d have taped two cushions to Billy and have at it,’ I said. Elvis breathed a small chuckle.

‘I picked you because you have all the qualities I wanted. Kind, loving, mischievous,’ I said with a smile that he returned, the glint in his eye coming back just a tad, ‘I knew those kids would love you as Santa. And I was right. You made them all feel special, especially Lisa. You made her feel like the most important little girl in the world. You made memories she’s gonna have forever.’ ‘You think so?’ he asked quietly, resting his head against mine. ‘I know so,’ I said, ‘because that’s how you make me feel every single day.’ ‘Even looking like this,’ he said moving a hand that was around me so he could gesture to the slight gut protruding over his belt. I placed my hand on his tummy making him drop his gaze. ‘Are you as skinny as the day I fell in love with you? No. Do I love you just as much as I did then? Absolutely. I love you for you Elvis no matter what. Hell, I’m not exactly the same as when we met. She may have been tiny when she was born but my hips ain’t ever going to be the same after that kid of yours,’ I chuckled. ‘Still gorgeous,’ he mumbled into my temple. ‘If you think that then why don’t you think I feel the same about you?’ I said pulling back. He sighed, ‘I meant it when I said you’re my big strong Santa. Because I don’t see those as bad things. It’s not some code word, well, if it is it’s only good things. I like that you’re strong. I like that when you wrap your arms around me I feel safe. That’s what I meant.’

He stayed quiet for a moment and then nodded finally looking at me. I placed my hand on his cheek and pressed a kiss on his forehead before I rested mine against it. 

‘I love you,’ I said. ‘Love you too,’ he whispered kissing me tenderly. After a moment or so I pulled back and slipped off his knee until I was kneeling in between his legs. He raised an eyebrow as I placed my hands on his chest. My words might not have fixed everything but I was determined to get a smile back on his face.

‘You know I realised something when we were downstairs,’ I said absent-mindedly tracing my fingers along his clavicle. ‘Oh yeah?’ he mused. ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘What’s that?’ he said. ‘I realised I’m not gonna be on the nice list this year,’ I said with an exaggerated sigh. ‘Why’s that honey?’ he said, his lip curling up in a smirk. ‘I don’t think you’re allowed to be if you’ve been having dirty thoughts about Santa,’ I giggled. Elvis chuckled, ‘oh yeah? Like what?’ ‘I think it’s probably best if I show you,’ I said with a smirk as I pushed him back until he was resting against the bed on his elbows, looking down at me as my fingers fiddled with the black belt of his costume. ‘Maybe this whole Santa thing ain’t so bad after all.’

[rageprufrock]

I’ve read your other asks on FortPeat shenanigans and frankly I’m simultaneously going 🤭 and 🤦🏻‍♀️ every time I go to the fortpeat tag (which yes I am following lmao). At first I was hesitant to even go there bc I’m very against actively shipping real people (hearing the horror stories of other bl actors, kpop idols, other celebrities has scarred me). But I’m sorry I’m comfy with my friends but I would never be that comfortable unless I there was something else going on there. Like at this point it really is an open secret. I remember reading a translation where basically MAME or the crew or someone exposed Fort and said that they had to do multiple takes of all the PrapaiSky NC scenes bc Fort would purposely mess them up so they’d have to do extra takes 😭 This poor boy is down bad and I can only hope it’s reciprocated but i honestly have no clue bc from what I can tell Peat is nowhere near as much of an open book as Fort is. This isn’t a dig at either of them, it’s just Fort has a very inner-thoughts-out-where-everyone-can-see-them-and-can’t-help-it face and Peat doesn’t. Regardless, they seem to both be enjoying whatever kind of relationship it is they have and I wish them happiness in the future.

But seriously, how the hell do you go to work knowing that you’re going to be shooting an NC scene with your crush where your mouth is all over his chest all while he is moaning? Fort is so real for that. Like I’d get the script for that and disappear screaming into the forest for a week. And how much was in the actual script and how much was improvised by the two of them? I can’t with these two. I could go on for paragraphs.

-MA

I think this is why like, Fort is a miraculous dog of a human being. Anybody else, realizing they were terminally hot for a coworker, would find the prospect of having to pretend to fuck them would be a living nightmare and I imagine either immediately retreat from society or set themselves on fire or whatever. Fort clearly was like 'HELL YEAH BROTHER' and then proceeded to fuck up his scenes so he could keep pretending to rail his crush on a table. That takes a level of Power of Dumb that puts him in the S tier of himbos, all the more powerful because he's apparently a fucking engineering student so this particular stupidity is a veil of smooth chicken breast brain over the actual folds that contain math and physics.

[vaicomcas]

On Bitterness

cw: very long and cringey self-reflection of an unrepentant, dean critical, spn critical bitter Cas fan. It's actually kind of funny how melodramatic I am.

I once read a post that said, if you hate the show so much, why are you on tumblr writing post after post about it, go away leave us who love it alone. Or, the very fact that you keep going on is the validation of how great the show is. Or, that's a miserable way to engage with media. Or, please only focus on what you like rather than what you hate and "make the fandom better ". Or, do you even know how to consume media, just ignore what you dislike. I see this type of post periodically. I follow few active blogs so I'm sure I only see a fraction of them.

Some of it seems fair enough. To say "I hate the show so much" is an oversimplification because I am obviously consumed by my love for Castiel, and the show created Castiel. Also a lot of the ideas/writing/visuals are brilliant (although quite a lot not so much--but of course, it's easy to criticize and hard to create something that went on for so long). Lots of amazing actors of course. The skills and quality are of course there. But does that validate the show? I say no.

I honestly hate a lot of the overall narrative and underlying values of the show. And I have come to hate the Winchesters, espeically Dean, because of the type of men they stand for--reflecting my own experience and bias, no doubt. Just like how anybody "consumes media": from their own perspective.

I am not looking for reassurance or validation. I don't accept it when I read that people like me are consuming or engaging with media wrong. I don't make any personal criticism of writers or producers (I try not to even know who they are most of the time, though it's impossible). I don't go out of my way to argue with or upset people I disagree with. I tag myself clearly and people can block me. I paid for my DVDs. Within these confines of what my conscience requires, I can consume media however I want. So what if what I share on tumblr is not "positive". I read rage-filled posts about Cas from 2, 4, 7 or more years ago from bitter Cas fans who came before me, and these posts are what I came to the internet for: they made me feel less alone. Yet, there are simply not enough of them. I post to let my own rage out, and to add to this particular voice so others like me can also find it and feel less alone.

I do ask myself all the time: why don't I just let the bitterness go for my own mental health? Like they say condescendingly, "it's a miserable way to engage with media". (what a loser you are is what this means.) They say to be bitter is like drinking poison in order to kill your enemy. I don't dispute that. Yeah it is miserable. Yeah it's truly not healthy. Yeah it infects my outlook in real life too. Can't I just focus on the positive like so many people seem to be able to do? Isn't there so much, so much positive about Castiel?

I can't. Being miserable is the only way for me to love Cas. Only in the first two seasons was he genuinely celebrated (to a degree and not nearly enough), followed by relentless reduction and sidelining of him. I should clarify: it's not his suffering and his pain in the plot per se that depresses and angers me. It's the slander, the subjugation, and the enslavement of his brilliance to serve the main characters who can't hold a candle to him. My kind of love for Castiel means that it would be an insult to not feel sad and outraged about him. There is not even a grain of "positivity" in that show that is uncontaminated with the injustice done to his character. As far as I am concerned, nobody on earth deserves to be happy because of what was done to Castiel, because it could never be undone. (this is hyperbole, of course. I don't actually want to make other people unhappy unless they want company in misery. That's why I put heavy warning on the bitterest of my posts.)

I'm aware of how melodramatic I am about a TV show character. I am aware all of it is written to elicit reactions, all of it is artifice, and I am picking and choosing what I love and hate about it. I am aware there are real social injustices that deserve my outrage a lot more. The thing is I have never cared about fictional characters. It is unfathomable why I chose this sickness of taking Castiel seriously, as real flesh and blood and grace and spirit being in a half-real half-fake universe. If I allow myself to be objective, if I allow myself to acknowledge that he is not real (rather, just the sum of a series of often inconsistent writing and production decisions by a large heterogeneous mixture of people) in order to get away from the misery, I would then also have no reason to care about him at all. And that's unacceptable, at least for now. I dread the day, possibly not far away now, when I will wake up from this dream.

Back to part of why I keep thinking and writing about the show when I am so bitter about it. Something occurred to me. The show didn't just create Castiel out of thin air. The show's underlying universe came from the wellspring of the Abrahamic religions and related lore and a lot of the characters/stories are taken directly from the bible. Yet, it made God and its world order, including heaven and angels, corrupt and evil and ultimately vanquished.

I am not criticizing the show about making God evil. But If the show gets to trash its source material, in fact subverting its source material being the cornerstone of the show, then why can't I?

I am "canon parallel".

[monstersqueen]

Why do you ship Dazai and Ango?

Well, why not ?

Also I didn't expect to ! one moment I'm like : "wow wouldn't it be fucked up if ango and dazai started a relationship just after odasaku's death ? With dazai's resentment and self-destructive's tendencies and ango's feelings of guilt and his inability to stop caring about dazai?" and the next it's one week later and not only have i read everything in the ao3 tag in english, i've started making the not-english fics go through google translate, visit the tumblr tag every day, and am considering opening a word document to write. Which i have done by now.

All the time going 'yeah but. i really don't feel that vibe from them in canon???'

But. I should have expected it.

Why do I ship Ango and Dazai ?

I've got a Thing about friends-to-enemies-to-lovers

the messier the break up the better

i like it where the feelings afterwards are complicated, especially since it seems like the feelings are murderously complicated :p

i really like ango and i want good things to happen to him, and that means getting dazai back in his life

i really like ango ! he's fascinating ! It's so easy to simplify him to the one government dude but. it's more complicated. It's also more complicated than him putting his friends above all - that's the way i've been going for a while, because he does love them a stupid amount, but it comes down to is his own personal moral code.

he's not in the government because he believes in it - it's a job that gets in the way of what he thinks needs to be done sometimes actually ! he helps odasaku and dazai (or try to :( ), and helps the ada and dazai, and part of it is affection but part of it is that it's the right thing to do.

but the interesting part is that. even though it matters to him it's also in flux and gets limited by the reality of working for the government and "I shall never walk in the light again" oh my god

and it's interesting because he's a liar ! he's an incredibly good actor !

anyway he is interesting and that makes me like him a lot and so i want good things for him. and also to see him break down crying. he's earned it

and honestly the thing about dazai ? is that for someone who doesn't really see the difference between right and wrong, not beyond protecting and caring the few he's chosen, it's interesting to look at the people he did choose !

in the whole mafia he regularly drinks with guy who doesn't kill and the dude they picked up because in the midst of a war he refused to reduce deaths to numbers

he has a deep respect for kunikida's principles, for all he loves needling him?

there's a point also about chuuya and the depths to which chuuya care, and his conviction, to make here to

anyway the thing is that what dazai likes in people is inner goodness and a strong moral code. which are things that are not his !

which makes sense. for all the noises shibusawa and fyodor make about how boring and predictable ordinary people are, i kidna think. someone who thinks like is in fact even more predictable and so even more boring.

and besides even the question of interesting i think dazai just likes people who makes him see the value in living. and people who sees value in life are so interesting.

anyway i really like dazai? and his attempts to live ? he's holding a lot for someone for which there's no inherent joy in living

there's something to be said for someone whose natural talents are manipulation and scheming but who's decided to use those for good

also they have very strong feelings for each other ? sure at one point dazai's strong feelings was 'pull his own gun on ango' but it's also 'everything i would never want to lose is always lost' and no i'm not crying

also right now ango is listening to dazai's heart which honestly in terms of symbolic is some crazy romantic shit. also he was stopping time (via proxy) to communicate back, seriously, with the right framing this is peak romance

also how the fuck did they put that together. when. did dazai manage to go through that conversation without letting some of his anger show his true nature as heartbreak ? i want to know

seriously the ada matters a lot to dazai; he cares for everyone in it, and not just because that's how he can keep his promise to odasaku, he cares about them

so ? right now ? he's relying on ango to make sure what his intentions and thoughts get to them. that's absolute trust. that's not "you betrayed me once but i'm giving you a chance and we'll see" that's "we were friends once and i know you and i know you still care and so i trust you completely" and even that is not possible without acknowledging one way or another that he still cares too

i'm absolutely crazy about ango risking his carreers because he trusts that dazai is doing the right thing. i think there isn't a lot he wouldn't do for dazai, but i also think he's trusting in dazai's good intentions

which given the while 'sabotaging his airbag' thing is ALSO a whole lot of trust

ango is going against the entire government, basically inflitrating it as a reverse spy (again), because he trusts that dazai is truly trying to protect people.

and risking his job. at the very least. can't wait to see where it all ends up for him

anyway we're talking about two people who used to be close, who were torn apart in ways that tore them both to shreds, left their relationship at the 'wow it would be fucked up if they got together now, that certainly wouldn't be love and it would be toxic as fuck' and 'pull your own gun on you' and 'sabotage your airbag' stage, and SOMEHOW got at "i'll trust you absolutely in a situation where the world has been turned against us"

in short i ship ango and dazai because dazai went from "i knew i was going to lose you because i would never want to" to "i'm going to pull your own gun on you and at least consider shooting despite that that would really fuck me and my team over" to "you are the one i trust when i can't help myself anymore" and that's. that's.

yeah.

[ingravinoveritas]

Saw a twitter meme that's like '"straight actors shouldn't play gay characters" do you want [x] to be unemployed?' And I can't help but think Michael Sheen fits that. I don't have much else to add to this I just thought it'd be funny to send. I don't really follow either of them too closely to ever add much to the conversation so ya know.

Hi, Anon! Yeah, I’ve been seeing that meme going around lately (see my most recent reblog for a version involving David), and I’d have to say the same thing here that I did there. I don’t think the meme quite works with Michael because while the presumption is that he’s straight, the reality is rather different.

(I know you said you don’t follow either he or David too closely, so I invite you to check out my #david is lowkey bi and michael is highkey bi tag to read the many posts that I have written on the subject.)

What I will say here, however, is that where with David, he has not actually played a great number of explicitly queer roles and it’s more his own queer energy that we are seeing on screen, with Michael, he has played numerous overtly queer roles AND his own queer energy informs those roles (and vice-versa).

I’ve written previously on my blog about how the queer roles Michael has played all seem to represent different parts of himself, perhaps even at different places in his own journey with sexuality. In particular, Aziraphale has seemed to me to be the middle-aged version of Miles Maitland--the realization of who Miles wanted to be when he was young, and who (perhaps like Michael) he felt he couldn’t be because of society and the hateful intolerance around him. It’s taken Aziraphale a lifetime (or a millennia) to find himself, but Aziraphale knows who he is, even if he doesn’t specifically label it or announce it to the world. So I can’t help but feel like there are certainly some parallels there with Michael’s own life.

Which is then why I am not sure how to feel about memes like the “straight actors” one on Twitter. People assume Michael and David are straight because they’re currently in relationships with women, which ignores everything Michael has ever said about his attractions to men, and perpetuates the longstanding tradition of erasing bisexuality. But it also ignores/dismisses the idea that some actors use the roles they play to explore their sexuality and become more comfortable with it because they have had so few opportunities to do so in real life.

Imagine putting that piece of yourself into every role (which is something Michael has said, that he plays himself in every role) and having people still not see who you really are because of their preconceived ideas about sexuality. Michael is a lot more obvious about it than David (who I do think has felt like he has to hide in particular because of being in Doctor Who, which is a whole other conversation), but as obvious as Michael is, people are still calling him straight, and I think that’s really interesting, as well as a bit sad.

So yes, those are my thoughts on the Twitter meme. Not trying to rain on anyone’s parade, of course, but wanted to do my best to put my complicated feelings about it into words. Thanks for writing in, Anon! x

[aprillikesthings]

moar rewatch

s1! ep2 and 3!

Bow's voice actor's work here is so good lolol

Nice work establishing that only Adora can do the transformation thing with the magic sword

Man someone on youtube has to have done one of those therapist deep-dives on their relationship. So much of their interactions are just painfully accurate for the way a kid reacts to an abusive parent--that combination of fear and resentment and still wishing you could make them happy, just once.

My family didn't have a golden child vs. scapegoat thing going on, though. I wonder if this is based on the writers' own experiences or if one of them read about that dynamic or had a therapist consulted or what

oof too real 😬

anyway Free Palestine

even cartoons know that murdering civilians and/or destroying their homes makes you the bad guy

There's some parallels here with kids who grew up in conservative/evangelical families realizing their family's politics and faith weren't based around Jesus at all but were based around bigotry and small-minded cruelty and knowing they have to leave, and knowing ND Stevenson's background I assume it's intentional

"You've known these people for, what, a couple of hours? and you're going to throw everything away for them?"

:( and to Catra, this just feels like a betrayal. There's a meta post somewhere way back in my tags that was like, from Catra's POV, Adora knew how shitty Shadow Weaver treated Catra and that wasn't enough to rebel and leave, but knowing Glimmer and Bow for a handful of hours was, and how much that had to hurt like hell, considering Catra put up with Shadow Weaver's abuse for so long in part to protect Adora and in part because it meant her and Adora were still together

Ugh this is why I love this show, Catra's actions are sometimes just awful but they make sense given what we know about her life, and right now she's just panicking and trying to hide it

And meanwhile Bow and Glimmer are like "actually we've decided we trust you :) can you be fancy sword lady again thanks!"

Like of course Adora is going to pick Bow and Glimmer and not Catra in that moment!!

"Is that....Adora?" "It's She-ra!"

Yeah that's not gonna be the source of weird "who the fuck even AM I" feelings later ha ha ha amiright

Also along with all the other weirdness of suddenly being bigger/different outfit etc, like, She-Ra is not only WAY stronger, but also knows how to fight in that body and with that sword. Like having muscle memory you didn't know you had. That's gotta be WEIRD. (I mean, there's also memories that clearly aren't hers, too)

Poor bb is scared, mad, and kinda turned on (shhhh I can headcanon whatever I want)

I called Yellow Diamond a clod, right to her face!!

("You made that joke the first time you saw this ep April" It's just a good joke okay!!)

OKAY EPISODE OVER

EP 3

Glimmer: everyone hates Horde soldiers but I think people will love you as She-Ra YOU JUST HAVE TO BE SHE-RA HA HA IT'LL BE FINE

Adora, internally: I'm only valuable/acceptable/lovable as long as I can be She-Ra, a person who isn't entirely me and that I don't know how to control and feel extremely weird about, got it

LOL I FORGOT HOW THEY GOT SWIFT WIND

whether the sword's edges are sharp or not is entirely dependent on whether someone needs it to be or not pffft

ouch

lol this would be such a wild cosplay to do

(a quick image google says the original is far more popular for cosplay; only a couple of people have done this version)

"Adora's gone, she's defected. And I'm starting to think she had the right idea!"

...okay how tempted do we think Catra actually was to just fucking leave.

Once again: intentional parallels to high-control religious groups

But the reference to Lord Hordak specifically also has shades of "Just wait until your father finds out what you did!" which is, uh, a little uncomfortably close to home ngl

DEEP SIGH

boy do I hate how familiar this is

I used to get so scared it would make my stomach hurt, and I'd shake the same way Catra does here, which sometimes made him angrier

jesus christ

okay how much of my love of Catra as a character is bc I can empathize with her in moments like this one (I was never as openly rebellious or back-talking as she is though; any disagreement got me screamed at)

I mean on the other hand Hordak is like "bitch, I know you've been doing this whole Golden Child/Scapegoat bullshit, so if your Golden Child fucked off and the Scapegoat is all you've got left then congrats that's on you, dumbass."

Catra thought she was gonna be murdered and instead she got a promotion

OKAY BUT ahahah oh god

IF Hordak had actually punished Catra or even threatened her in any way, I feel like Catra would, in fact, have left. There would be nothing left for her in the Horde, right? So why not leave?

But Hordak didn't promote Catra because he personally believes in her abilities, he did it to piss off Shadow Weaver. Then again maybe he knows that promoting Catra means she'll stay loyal.

Because it works, doesn't it. Oof. Catra wants to prove herself, dammit; and she's been given a shot at doing it, so she's staying.

Aaaugh.

OKAY that's 3 episodes out of 52. I think I'm done for today. No guarantees, though. Also there's no way I can do this for every single episode. >_<

[characternerdocs]

Tagged by: @icybreaths

Name: Eri Lorewright, you can refer to me as either! (or Eeri, like Eerie, Lol)

Star Sign: Cancer ♋

Height: 5' 7

Middle name: [REDACTED] cause I’m uncomfy revealing it as it’s really gendered, and I’d like to be a non-binary enigma.

Put your itunes/spotify/youtube on shuffle. What are the first 6 songs that popped up?

This is Home - Cavetown

Lonely Dance- Set it Off

Everything at Once - Lenka

Bubblegum Bitch - Marinana & the Diamonds

Poison Within from Headless 

Kill the Beast by Aurelio Voltaire

Ever had a poem or song written about you: Not that I am aware

When was the last time you played air guitar: Prolly a week, two weeks ago. And most definitely to Pick up the Pace by The Play Plays

Who is your celebrity crush?: Less of a crush, more gender envy for Scott Shpeley. He is the singer in the Play Plays and plays Edgar Allan in Catalyst’s musical Nevermore

What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?: Velcro, the hate the ripping sound. It makes my spin itchy. I love the sound of keys hitting against one another

Do you believe in ghosts?: Yes, though I don’t feel like I have any legit experiences. Others that I know have some stories. Other than that though I think building I work in is haunted. I repeatedly have the feeling someone was walked into the room while my back’s to the door, but when I look, no one is there.

How about aliens: Yeah, I figure if we can exist on our planet, why can’t other life exist on another planet?

Do you drive?: Yes, and once I was even licensed to drive a forklift!

If so have you ever crashed: Thankfully not.

What was the last book you read?: The Drowning Girls, it’s actually a play though by Beth Graham and Daniela Vlaskalic

Do you like the smell of gasoline: Eeh... sorta?

What was the last movie you saw?: 7 Women and a Murder

What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?: I don’t know. Mostly it’s all minor stupid things. Like once I crushed a cone incense with my thumb only to find it had just burned out and severely burn my finger. I was trying to declog the dermal we use at work to 3-hole punch paper when it slipped and I punched a perfect circle into my index and thumb.

Do you have any obsessions right now?: Yes, It’s the Nevermore musical. I Love EVERYTHING ABOUT IT! I cannot rationally explain it. but the costumes and props being made primary out of masking tape, sticks, and landscaping fabric give Catalyst’s production such a unique and darkly quirky feel. It’s a part fact, part fiction telling of Edgar Allan Poe’s life birth to death, using lines and themes from his own stories and poems as the lyrics and lines. Which as a life time Poe fan myself is a fun little easter egg hunt to identify what is being referenced. The music is SO powerful, it just rattles round in my head all the time now, especially Dream within a Dream.  The setup and narrative style of the show had once of the best pay off I could have imagined; no spoilers but it was great. The cast is FANTASTIC! I love Scott Shpeley and I want to be his version of Poe, because honestly Nevermore’s Poe is just Goth boy Heath and I love that. But also I love Beth Graham, who yes wrote the play the Drowning Girls, but she is super funny and a great character actor. She plays three roles in Nevermore, including Fanny Allan, who I love, best mom. But Beth Graham does a great job of giving all three of her characters distinct voices. Love love love. The amount of love and creativity that has gone into this show is incredible. And I know that my passion and love for this show is crossing the line into unhinged, but E. A. Poe said it best, “I was never really insane except upon occasions when my heart was touched.”