#I am just tired of it and if I see who they stan while saying all that with their chest then I'll lose it

[bonefall]

God I am so tired of Bramble fans who refuse to use critical thinking and believe that brambleclaw and squilf are equally bad. Many also hate on moonkitti's video which they most likely haven't even watched or misconstrued points in it. You can like a character without defending all their actions please I'm begging you

And people will sometimes jump to their defense, saying that people just dogpiled them for liking a character the fandom doesn't like, and while that can happen, sometimes people are actually dogpiling them for ignoring abuse and insulting creators with different opinions

(Some discourse happened on Twitter recently about this but it's something I've seen happen before, I'm not specifically talking about anyone)

I'm going to be honest and drop my feelings.

Never have I ever actually SEEN a Bramblefan "get dogpiled" for liking Bramble.

I come out here on my massive soapbox every couple of weeks and drop whole essays on this guy, I chat casually about how important he is to me as a character, both as someone who was abused in a way similar to Squirrelflight AND as someone who can relate to Bramblestar's situation, and before BB got so large and my attention was easier to divide I even ran an AU called Sweet Nothings which had a "big brother" Bramble take in it.

There is no shortage of Bramblestar-related posts around here, yet, I have never, NEVER gotten shit for when I talk positively about Bramble.

In fact, he's commonly cited as one of the favorite cats to see on this blog from my audience. I get praise for addressing him with nuance, explaining how his actions are abuse while also keeping him human, talking about how his life is a painful cycle of self-doubt that makes him double down on his worst decisions. Every time I post about him, I get an influx of comments centered around how my takes on him are appreciated.

What I DO see is people who make art where they try to bothsides him and Squirrelflight, or say something completely false about his behavior, or straightup post DARVO tactics to defend their fav's honor. When someone makes a comment that goes "uhmm? Bit strange innit?" they call it "harassment." Or when people block them, they call that "receiving hate."

OR when someone makes a vaguepost like "Heyyy, DARVO is an abuse denial tactic where the abuser or their apologists Deny the abuse took place, Attack the accuser, and then Reverse Victim and Offender to claim they were actually the person harmed. Bramblestans are playing this out, step for step, and that's bad!" they call THAT dogpiling.

Meanwhile Moonkitti got death threats and was actually harassed for posting Bramblestar Is Worse. To the point where she is hesitant to ever make another video on the topic.

So y'know what? Hot take? The stans don't actually like Bramblestar. They like the vague idea of a sadboy character who broke free from his dad's legacy so they slurp up the framing of the notorious abuse apologist writers, and they get mad when people who have critically engaged with the books don't see what they desperately crave.

How can you really LIKE a character if you can't engage with their actions? If you need to surround yourself in an unpoppable bubble and can't accept anything he's done in the 20+ years he's been active? How can you truly love a man without all his mistakes?

It's sooo hard to be me, Tumblr User Bonefall, the ONLY one who likes Bramblestar correctly. It's rough out here.

#bone babble #Bramblestar #abuse apologia #tw abuse

[portraitofadyke]

I think the reason so many Izzy stans struggle to understand the Izzy callout posts is because in their mind, what we are trying to say is that Izzy is a super obvious abuser and Ed is an innocent little victim.

Their dynamic is obviously way more complicated than that. This show is full of immensely layered characters - something that makes it so unique. Ed and Izzy are complicated, too. It would have been easy to make Izzy a power hungry abuser and Ed the obeying, scared victim.

But it's their power dynamic that makes this so interesting and complicated. Ed is clearly the one in power to most people, and yes, he is Izzy's boss and Captain and he holds power over him, too. But Izzy holds the power right back. I saw the comparison of Izzy being a fame hungry manager of a celebrity, (@57flagsofdeath), somebody who just wrings them dry, ignorant of their suffering, and it stuck with me (pls tag the person if you know them). Ed is Blackbeard, history's greatest pirate, and Izzy's just his First mate, his second-in-command.

And Ed is clearly tired of that persona, Izzy sees that he's at the end of his rope, seeing death as his next adventure, and the moment he steps on the Revenge and sees that Stede does things differently, he is estatic.

Another person here did a very good post how both Izzy and Ed are victims of toxic masculinity, and on board of the Revenge, Ed starts shedding his. We know that Ed's been 'more crazy' for a while and Izzy is fed up with him. For Izzy, there is no Blackbeard and Ed, there is just Blackbeard. Happiness, giddines, being open and excited and soft or God forbid, falling in love for an even softer man is not masculine, and it's not worthy of Blackbeard.

Izzy knows Ed is happy with Stede, he admits so in his inner monologue in s6. That's what makes him want to kill Stede even more.

This episode is honestly, along with The Innkeeper, is the only proof I need to prove that the show intends to compare Izzy to Ed's father and Hornigold. Izzy is in clear parallel with Ed's father hurting his mom while Ed just hopelessly watches, just like when Izzy attempts to murder Stede despite Ed calling him off. And what does Ed do to his father? Murders him. That's once again parallel to Ed shooting Izzy in the leg in s2.

Izzy is manipulative and he plays into Ed's Blackbeard persona. He diminishes Ed's needs and happiness to wank off over Blackbeard and his competence and masculinity. I am not saying here that Ed never does anything wrong, or that he never hurts anyone. this relationship, this dynamic is bad for the both of them. But Ed clearly projects his daddy issues on this older pirate who probably showed him the ropes of what it means to be a pirate and then decided to manage his persona and control what's good for Blackbeard, not for Ed. If Ed weren't terrified of Izzy, or his disapproval, at least a little bit, why would he just watch as Izzy fights Stede, despite the tender moment in the bathtub? because Izzy reminds him of his own dad in so many ways he feels hopeless sometimes.

But the time in Stede's presence changed Ed. It showed him things can be done differenly, despite what Izzy and Hornigold and his dad showed him. He can be tender, and soft, and vulnerable and he can be loved for being Ed. When Stede leaves him on the dock, despite being heartbroken, Ed doesn't get violent. Quite the opposite, he sulks in a pillow fort, writes sad songs and sings. Worse, he shows his vulnerable side to the crew. He tells them to call him Ed. Izzy doesn't care for Ed. Ed can die, for all he cares.

Izzy knows how to push his buttons. Yes, Ed is Blackbeard, and all his planning and maiming and violence and smoke and mirrors, but Izzy is always there to whisper in his ear, to remind him that Ed means nothing to people unless he plays Blackbeard.

My point is, Izzy is clearly shown to be abusive, not in the way most people imagine. he doesn't beat Ed, instead he constantly undermines him, threatens him, does anything he can to deny him happiness. He's emotionally abusing Ed, making him feel like he's nothing without Blackbeard, going as far as killing his significant other and selling him out to the Navy.

I think where people get confused is they think Izzy genuinely cares for Ed in S1. He doesn't. It's not until s2, when Ed is at his lowest, so far retracted into the Blackbeard persona the only thing he can do is destroy himself that he realizes what he's done. Izzy has something of a clarity moment. He knows he fucked up. We all have different opinions about Izzy's small redemption, but even the goddamned character you all try to defend knows he fucked up. Izzy knows he's done Ed wrong for years. Izzy knows the power he holds over Ed.

Izzy and Ed are not your typical form of abuse, and Ed is not the perfect victim, and people serioulsy struggle with that to the point of coming up with fairy tales where Izzy is the only Good Guy in the show who didn't deserve to get shot, Ed is bound to be domestically violent and Stede should just die, really. And that's. That's the exact opposite of what the show is telling us, quite clearly. You don't even have to read in between the lines. S2 has been kind to Izzy, made him come to terms with his mistakes, and even grow a bit (even though it was a bit rushed, but again, budget cuts), the least you can do is be happy with his ending where he got to die surrounded by people who will all shed a tear for him and send him off, something s1 Izzy, who was about to be thrown overboard tied to an anchor, would never get. Maybe actually watch the show?

#ofmd meta #ofmd #the izcourse #I'm growing tired of this grandpa #it's not hard to understand that abuse is not always the same and comes in many complicated forms #if you don't get that go back to mcu movies or something

[therealcocoshady]

Dating Marshall Mathers HCs - Love languages edition

Author’s Note : Hey Stans 🥰. I am a sucker for Eminem Headcanons so I decided to give it a shot ☺️. Let me know what kind of HCs you’d like 👀. These HCs are based from the vibe I get from him, from his music, appearances or interviews - I might be wrong though, or you might disagree. Or not ? Either way, let me know what you think ❤️

Acts of service 

On some things, he is a bit old-fashioned and he will see some things as « his job ». He knows you can carry your bags or put that Ikea shelf together yourself. Doesn’t mean you have to. 

Absolute gentleman. Contrary to what he says he has manners. He just doesn’t overdo it. 

He is pissed when you ask for someone else’s help instead of his 

« Why didn’t you ask me ? » 

Also annoyed when you don’t ask for anything at all 

That being said, he hates asking for help

As much as possible, he will do his best to make your life easier with small gestures like : 

Picking you up at the airport // Driving you to and from work if he can 

Having your favorite food delivered to you when he is not there and he knows you are too lazy/tired/sick to cook 

Taking care of you when you are sick, tired or simply having a bad day 

Making sure his pantry is stocked with your favorite drinks and beverages 

He enjoys helping you when you are cooking/cleaning… 

Once he is comfortable around your place he will even do it unprompted 

Gifts

Might be his least favorite love language 

He enjoys giving gifts far more than he likes receiving them 

He is very hard to shop for anyway 

What do you get for a man who has the means to get everything he wants for himself ?

He is grateful for gifts but he is not really the materialistic type 

He low-key doesn’t believe he deserves gifts anyway 

When he gives you a gift, you can expect it to be meaningful and thoughtful

He pays a lot of attention to details 

Or it can be something you mentioned you needed 

Big, expensive gifts are for special occasions

Just because he has the means doesn’t mean he will gift you a Chanel bag on a random Thursday. Sorry. 

When he splurges, he doesn’t half-ass it but it doesn’t happen too often either 

Before he buys you something expensive, you have to be together for a while

Trying to win a woman over by spending money on her ? Yeah, not for him. He is too scared of gold-diggers. 

Also, if you have a fight, he might try to suck up to you with a gift or a bouquet even though he is the first to criticize how shallow gifts can be 

When he is away and doesn’t see you for a while, he might arrange for a surprise delivery, to make you smile and also make sure you don’t forget about him (as if it were possible)

Physical touch 

He is a bit guarded at first, so much so that you start doubting that he actually likes you (« Surely, he would have made a move by now… » - nope that man is just slow)

If he actually likes you, he makes it a point to behave like a gentleman and he will try and pick the best time for a first kiss or even simply holding your hand for the first time 

Great kisser. 

Not a big fan of public displays of affection (for obvious reasons)

If the two of you are ever spotted together, people might mistake you for a member of his team because he will not even get caught holding your hand 

That’s partly because he values your privacy at least as much as his - he doesn’t want his girl to get harassed or bothered 

However, when it’s just the two of you, he is all over you 

Whenever the two of you spend time together, he enjoys having physical contact with you, even if it’s just holding your hand while watching a movie 

Definitely makes up for his busy schedule with physical touch. 

Quality time

Probably his love language of choice 

Overall, he is really mindful of your schedule and appreciates that you respect his 

If you don’t, it’s not going to work between the two of you anyway 

Most of the time, he is punctual and he will not show up late to one of your dates 

If it happens, he will profusely apologize and make it up to you 

Might get a little pissed if you do (but he knows that girls will be girls and you are most likely late because you wanted to be extra pretty for him) 

He has a hectic schedule but he if he loves you he will make time for you 

Him making time for you is actually one of the telltale signs he actually cares about you 

If you are as busy as him, he really appreciates that you manage to make time for him

No phones rule during your dates 

Like, seriously, it’s a huge red flag for him if his date spends too much time on her phone instead of enjoying the moment 

Speaking of phones… He doesn’t text you too much. Instead, he tries to find moments when he can call you and have an actual conversation. 

When you are talking, you have his full attention 

He pays attention to everything you say and and do, even when it doesn’t seem like it 

He remembers everything 

He enjoys hearing you talk about things you are passionate about

If it’s something he is not too familiar with, he asks questions and he might even make an effort to do some research of his own, just so he can keep up with you 

And in turn, he really appreciates if you do the same 

Doesn’t seem like it at first, but he actually enjoys a good conversation. Even if you’re gorgeous, if you’re not interesting… Hard pass. 

He also gets really talkative if he’s talking about a topic he is passionate about. Like hip-hop culture, pop culture, sports… He will talk your ears off. And he likes talking about it with you. 

Even better if you are able to have an actual debate with him. He might not agree with you but he respects someone who can stand their ground and have actual valid arguments. 

Because you might not be able to spend too much time together sometimes, he will do his best to make your dates special 

As your relationship evolves, he includes you in some more mundane activities, just to enjoy more of your company 

Don’t expect to spend too much time at the studio with him. He keeps his work and personal life separate. 

That being said, he might invite you to spend time with him there once or twice. And it means a lot. 

Words of affirmations 

We all know this man has a way with words 

When he praises you or compliments you, he means it 

A perk of dating a dictionary nerd : he chooses his words carefully 

Never a dull compliment 

He is a great motivator : when he encourages you and tells you you can do it, you actually start believing that you can 

He is good when It comes to giving words of affirmation but receiving them ? Nope. 

When you compliment him, he gets a bit awkward and doesn’t know how to react 

That being said, he enjoys it 

Compliments he enjoys the most are not necessarily the ones about his professional skills or physical appearance but genuinely about his character 

Any fan could tell him he is a great rapper or that he looks good. But having his girl tell him what an amazing person she thinks he is and being specific about it ? YES. 

Basically, just show him that you care about him (the real him) 

With how guarded he is, it might be some time before he actually says « I love you »

It might not come with a big declaration either. Just « I love you ». Simple. 

Definitely catches you off guard the first time he says it, with a super casual tone. 

However, when he says it, he means it 

He leaves you small notes, too 

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #eminem imagine #eminem fluff #eminem headcanons #marshall mathers headcanons

[whovianderson]

Sex Education season 4 thoughts

The good

Aimee’s journey. As I’ve discussed online no end, I have complex PTSD. While I was never sexually assaulted like Aimee was, her avoidant trauma responses were very relatable to me. To see her taking the power back this season, especially when the burned the jeans she was assaulted in and did the photoshoot with them, made me feel a bit less alone as I try and heal. I cried my eyes out, so much so that I had to take a break from watching to collect myself!

“Even when I’m doing something I love… it feels like I’m still wearing them, like it never goes away”

Cal’s story as a non-binary person is very different to mine (and for the record, that doesn’t make either of us any less valid, because there is no singular way to be non-binary). Nonetheless, hearing someone I love as much as I do Gillian Anderson affirm our shared gender nonconformity meant the world. I’m sick of facing transphobia from society, but especially from people that I once considered idols. So knowing that Gillian embraced a role where her character supports trans youth healed something within me. It’s not the first time she’s showed up for our community though - she always makes a point to include non-binary people, for example in her Dear Gillian announcement video. I don’t mean to undermine the real hero of the story here: Dua Saleh, the actor who played Cal - it’s just that I had already formed such a deep connection with Gillian, so it hit me doubly hard from her.

The funeral scene. Just… the funeral scene. I really lost it when Mr Hendricks played With Or Without You on the piano and everyone else joined in.

Other people have spoken about this better, so I won’t get into it as much, but by god, the representation. One example that really struck me was the sex scene between Abbi and Roman at the end, where she said “I love being inside you”. It wasn’t a big deal, their transness was completely normalised.

This might be an unpopular opinion, but I loved the Motis ending! Maeve made the right choice going back to America, and long distance relationships are really hard when you have no plans to reunite, so I get why they called it off. Also, relationships at that age don’t usually last, as much as I hate to say it, and yet via Maeve’s letter, the show managed to honour that they can still shape one’s life and be really important.

The bad

If it wasn’t clear, I’m a Jean Milburn stan first and a human second. Unfortunately, I was disappointed in how they handled her storyline this season. Firstly, I’m tired of every single female character on television having an arc that culminates in motherhood. Not knowing who the father was felt like bad writing for Jean specifically, like very out of character, because she’s a sex therapist, so she’s all about safe sex and communication around those things. By no means am I suggesting that they should’ve kept Jakob as a character (if you don’t already know, his actor sexually assaulted hundreds of women which, by the way, was public knowledge before he was ever cast), but they could’ve come up with a better workaround. Maybe I’m biased because Jean is a comfort character of mine, but I wasn’t very pleased with the fact that they didn’t allow her to be happy for a single second this season either! That being said, I do think it’s important that we don’t gloss over the postpartum depression representation here, which could mean so much to so many. I wish they’d brought Maureen in to help Jean though, because their relationship was so special and yet we didn’t see them interact onscreen once this season.

I haven’t heard anyone else mention this, but I was disappointed with how they handled sapphic relationships this season. Not only were Ola and Lily erased entirely, but the writers fucked up the storyline for the only established sapphic couple remaining (Roz and Sofia Marchetti). Like, why was the Big Plot Twist™️ that there was, in fact, a man intimately involved with their family? Our lives don’t have to revolve around men, you know? The show didn’t explicitly acknowledge the fact that genetics to not make a family in my opinion either, because Roz and Sofia’s conversation with Jackson was just about how his biological father was missing out on raising him.

The… mixed? Idk!

I deserve to be sent to horny jail for this, but Jean breastfeeding initially drove me insane. I quickly changed my tune though, because breasts are not inherently sexual and breastfeeding shouldn’t be sexualised, so it makes me feel a bit icky to see people thirsting over that.

I’m not sure how I felt about the development of Adam and Michael’s relationship. On one hand, I thought it was beautiful to see them both grow and reconnect. On the other hand, I was slightly concerned that it was veering into “you have to forgive your abuser” territory. I don’t have parental trauma, so I don’t have the authority to comment, but I’d be interested to hear other people’s perspectives.

I really appreciate how they tried to explore toxic relationships with the introduction of Beau as Viv’s love interest. However, I don’t feel that it was given the weight it deserved, because there was so much else going on.

In summary

I’m not disappointed with how this season turned out overall. Although it definitely wasn’t perfect, I thoroughly enjoyed watching it, and it made me very happy. I do recommend checking trigger warnings before watching it though, because it is a lot darker than previous seasons.

I’d missed this show and these characters more than I’d realised, and I can’t believe I’ll never see them again. It was really hard to say goodbye!

#yes I binged all of season 4 in one day but I was too lazy to post about it until now. love that for me #miscellaneous thoughts: #gillian anderson is a phenomenal actor jsyk #this season is confirmation that ncuti is gonna be an amazing doctor #I may be becoming a hannah waddingham stan what of it #also this is personal so feel free to skip #but I’m so so proud of myself #because this season would have been too triggering for me to watch not long ago #but I’m ✨healing✨ now #sex ed season 4 #sex ed s4 #sex education season 4 #sex education s4 #sex ed spoilers #sex education spoilers #sex education netflix #sex ed netflix

[party-hearses]

i am a nightmare, you are a miracle // 1

i'll bury us both, fed to the night as ghosts

series masterlist | next chapter

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader, ex!Tommy Miller x f!reader (NO USE OF Y/N)

Summary: After your two year relationship with Tommy Miller ends, Joel takes you in — and it’s home like you’ve never quite known before. 

Series Warnings/Tags: 18+ MDNI, language, infidelity, eventual smut, age difference, soft!joel, AU - no cordyceps outbreak, Sarah doesn’t exist (sorry), Tommy stans don’t come for me

Wordcount: 5.8 k

A/N: I’ll be honest — I have no idea what I’m doing. I haven’t written a fic in damn near 20 years, so I’m just kind of throwing this out into the void to see what happens. I'm playing fast and loose with years and ages; it's 2023 and there's no outbreak. Also, not a personal fan of the ‘brothers’ trope, but…here we are. 

…I can’t wait until your next business trip…

You press the heels of your hands into your eyes as hard as you can. Who even uses email to have an affair, anymore? 

…miss your hands…

The words are hot against your eyelids, seared into your line of vision, despite the dull ache from your own hands. It had been a week, and the wound still feels gaping — all consuming, bitter pain licking at your insides what feels like every minute of the day. 

     “Dammit, peach. I’ve barely seen you in a week and a half, and this is the bullshit you start?” 

     “Oh, so it’s my fault that you’re having an affair?”

     “I didn’t say that!” 

     Tommy’s eyes wild, hands on his hips, southern drawl like syrup over each syllable. 

     “You’re always workin’. In meetings. Pourin’ yourself into spreadsheets and budgets. What  am I s’posed to do?”

     His hands in the air, desperate, shoulders hunched.

     “Still sounds a lot like you’re blaming me.”  

You can feel the tears well up, and you swallow hard to stop them. Do not cry at work. Do NOT cry at work. You breathe deep, the burning in your lungs waning, but not extinguishing. The usual busy noises of your office are absent today, save the soft purr of the air conditioning and the receptionist’s furious clicking at her keyboard. Even the phones are silent; no frantic calls from upstairs to divert your attention from the constant replay of that night. 

Finally feeling steady enough to remove your hands from your eyes, you lock your fingers together and lay your cheek on top of them. Everything feels heavy — your workload, your personal life, your head. Your gaze slowly flickers to the office window, the sunlight streaming through, the heat scorching. It seems to call out to your blood, making you feel restless, agitated, but also so fucking tired.  

Sleep had eluded you since Tommy had left, and you’d barely been able to steal moments here and there, between dinner for one on the couch and the canned laughs of late-night talk shows. How different your life had been even two weeks ago.  

“Did you bring lunch?” 

Abruptly brought back to earth, your eyes snap up to the face of your colleague, Ava. 

“Um, yeah. Just some veggie sticks and hummus. I, uh, haven’t been feeling terribly hungry.” You smile weakly, the attempt at a joke feeling like a weight around your neck. 

Ava nods in understanding, her eyes sympathetic. She had been the second person you’d called the next morning, after your older sister. Kit, five years your senior, had answered, already sounding distracted by her two young children. 

     “Well, girl, I can’t say I didn’t tell you so. Getting involved with a man seventeen years older than you…” 

While Kit had been hard and borderline disinterested, Ava had served as a warm landing for your sobbing, rushing to the empty apartment on a Saturday morning to soothe you. 

“It’s Friday. We can duck out early, grab a drink? You could use one, and Jackson isn’t back from his meeting upstairs.” Ava checks her watch, confirming. “It’s not like anyone will even miss us.” 

Ava is dependable, fun, beautiful. Her cool California attitude compliments her chic New York style, but she had called Austin home since college. She could wrap anyone around her finger with ease, and her insistence on being your friend made your heart clench. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.” You nod solemnly, tears now pricking at your eyes from the tenderness you feel towards her. 

She meets the tenderness with a wide grin. “Knew you would, doll.” 

As you turn to gather your bag, a sudden lightning bolt of fear strikes you. 

“Av, what if he’s there? What if we see him?” 

She swallows down a laugh. “Tommy Miller? Downtown?” She leans closer to you, raising her eyebrows. “He wouldn’t be caught dead at Taquero Mucho. Not willingly, at least.” 

Ava is right, as always. The lush pink floral interior and neon signage on the walls of the restaurant do not, and would not, mesh with Tommy Miller’s bearish sensibilities. You instantly feel more at ease, letting Ava order pink, fruity drinks for the both of you. 

One cocktail turns into two turns into three, and the warm buzz in your veins settles your mind for the time being. Ava sits across from you, happily munching on tortilla chips and chattering away. 

“I couldn’t believe Belinda said that! Like, retire already, grandma.” She grins, rolling her eyes. 

You chuckle, only half hearing the story she’s been telling. Noticing, she gently shifts in her seat, drawing closer to you. 

“Doll, I’m sorry to have been chatting your ear off. You know how I get. Let’s hear- ah, wait!” She notices your empty glass, and as if she had snapped her fingers, the server materializes. 

“Two more, please.” She nods toward the server, who rushes away to put the order in, lest they keep Ava waiting. “Okay. So… what are you going to do? We need to get you out of that apartment. And since you refuse to stay with me…” 

Your gaze drops to your hands in your lap. If you thought crying at work was bad, crying at lunch was worse. You clear your throat, eyes catching your chipped fingernail polish.  

“I don’t know, Av. He- it’s his apartment. It’s not like I don’t make enough to get something on my own, but… I don’t know. It all feels so empty.” 

Ava nods as the server places two more pink cocktails on the table. Mouthing a quick ‘thank you’ to him, she reaches for it before responding.  

“Where’s he staying? And for how long?” 

“His brother’s. Said he’ll give me as much time as I need…but I don’t want to be there anymore. I don’t feel like I can be. Maybe I should get out of Austin?” 

Ava raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think so. You can’t let him run you out of town! That’s outrageous. He’s not even worth that.” She rolls her eyes again. 

You reach for your drink, sipping it slowly, willing it to quiet the bitter fire in your blood. 

     “Peach, come on. I- I didn’t mean it. It didn’t mean anything. You’re gonna throw two years away over a one time thing? A-a mistake?” 

     “It should have never happened, Tommy! Fucking a client? And I know it wasn’t just once! What the fuck were you thinking?” 

     Tommy’s eyes soften, but he doesn’t speak. His hand goes to the back of his neck, kneading. 

     “Guess I wasn’t thinkin’.” 

Tommy had shattered you. Betrayed you. Split you open and cut your insides out. But you couldn’t bring yourself to say that he wasn’t a good man. Complicated? Yes. Hard to read? Yes. Prone to making colossal fucking mistakes? Absolutely. But you knew, deep down, that he wasn’t bad. 

You shake your head at Ava slowly, sadly. “I don’t know what I did wrong, Av. Two years. I don’t know what happened.” 

Your eyes well up, and this time you can’t stop the tears. You sniffle, wiping them away quickly, as Ava puts her hand on your forearm. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong, doll. He’s the one who fucked up. He’s the one who ruined everything.” 

“H-he said I work too much. I’m ‘not there’ enough. And…and…the worst p-part is, I don’t think he’s wrong!” It takes everything in you not to wail. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, trying to focus on the in-out in-out of your breathing. 

Ava signals for the check, another of her magic abilities. You can feel the server’s eyes on you as he brings it, quietly clicking his tongue against his teeth. Another sad drunk girl. Tsk, tsk. It’s barely 3 o’clock. Ava hums softly, scribbling her signature on the receipt. 

“There’s not a justification in the world for what he chose to do. You worked hard for your career, busted your ass to be where you’re at. It’s no excuse for him to have a full-blown affair with a client.” She closes the receipt inside the booklet and stands. “Now let’s get you home, so you can cry it out in peace.”

Unlocking the door of the apartment fills you with dread. The key feels unwieldy in your hand, and you consider for a split second whether it will feel daunting or freeing to give it back to Tommy. You let yourself in, the apartment hauntingly empty — just as you had left it, just as it had been for the past seven nights. 

You’ve only spoken to Tommy sparingly over the course of the week. A few short texts here and there, mostly about the logistics of the arrangement you are both now navigating. He had left for Joel’s late the night it happened, a duffel bag slung low over his shoulder, slamming the door on his way out. 

     “This it, peach?”  

…miss your hands…

 Dropping your bag next to the front door, the tears don’t stop once they start.

Ava had offered to come up, but you knew you couldn’t let her. She didn’t deserve to have to wallow with you, no matter how much she wanted to be there for you. 

 It had been a good distraction, lunch with her, but you still didn’t know what your plan was. Where you’d be going, where you’d be living. 

Hugging yourself, you shuffle into the guest bathroom to wash your face. After Tommy had left, you’d moved everything you needed out of the main bedroom and bathroom, suddenly feeling like a trespasser there. 

     Had he brought her here? Did she sleep in this bed? Did they talk about the future together? What does Joel think?

The last question to run through your mind catches you by surprise, a small gasp escaping your lips. What does Joel think? 

If Tommy was stoic and gruff, Joel was downright intimidating. You’ve only seen him smile a few times, and you can count on one hand the number of times you’ve heard him laugh. He wasn’t, however, unkind, taking to calling you by the same nickname Tommy had, albeit a bit awkwardly at first. Like he couldn’t form his mouth around the languid, round letters - p e a c h. Angular as he was, he had always made you feel welcome, in his own, quiet way, teasing Tommy about you being out of his league. The familial resemblance was strong between the brothers, with their dark waves and warm eyes. But something about Joel made your soul clench, as if he had curved his fingers around your ribs and impressed himself upon your heart. He was comfortable, in a cloudy way — never revealing himself, but not pressuring you to, either. Amicable silence, as it were. 

Thinking about Joel calling you out of Tommy’s league makes you scoff, now. 

“The rich client with the kitchen remodel isn’t too out of his league, is she?” You mumble to yourself, cold water pooling between your palms. 

     “I don’t want it to end this way, peach.”  

     “I didn’t want it to end at all, Tommy.” 

 You bring the water to your face, scrubbing away the salt of dried tears and sting of betrayal.

The sun had dipped below the horizon when you wake up later on the couch. Fumbling for your phone with one hand, you rub your eyes with the other. As you check the time, your phone alerts you to two new text messages, delivered two hours ago.

Tommy Miller: Will you be home tonight? Tommy Miller: I need to stop by to get a few things. 

Your hands tremble as you read and reread the messages. You rub your eyes again, unsure if you’re understanding the text in front of you clearly. It doesn’t change. Panic rises in your throat, searing and sour. 

A vicious cross between fury and complete despair surges through you, and you drop your phone into your lap. Tears pinch at the backs of your eyes. Forget figuring out where to live, you hadn’t even considered how you’d next face Tommy.  

     I don’t want to see you, Tommy. Do you want to talk? I’ll be out, feel free to drop by. Please come home. 

You weigh your options, constructing and dismantling multiple messages. Retrieving the phone, you pray he can’t see that abhorrent blue bubble that indicates you’re typing. That shows him you’re there. 

As if he’d read your mind, your phone vibrates, his name and picture flashing on the screen. The picture gives you pause — a day you had spent on Lake Austin, the wind whipping through his hair, a broad smile on both of your faces. You feel like you’re going to be sick. 

Focusing on your breathing, clenching your teeth, you accept the call.  

 “Hey, Tommy.” Your voice is small. So small. You feel your cheeks burn at how stupid you feel. You should be screaming at him — biting back the venom he instilled in you — but all you can manage is barely a whisper.  

He sounds relieved. “Hey, peach. Didn’t know if I’d catch ya.” 

You hum discontentedly. How can he be so cool about this?  

“Uhhh, well, I, uh, need to stop by the apartment tonight to grab some things. Would that be okay?” 

You don’t know what to say. Would it be okay?  

“It’s your apartment.” 

The response surprises you, that same venom bubbling over without your permission.

Tommy sighs. 

“I don’t want it to be like this, darlin’. Can we talk? Please?” 

“Can you make it here without sleeping with a client?” 

Tommy laughs hollowly. “Guess I deserve that. Sassy today, huh?” 

You picture him then, on Joel’s couch, fidgeting with the hem of his button down with his free hand. Pressed against the cushions, eyes to the ceiling. Gently annoyed with you for ignoring his texts. Football would be switched on in the background, and your heart thrums when you think of Joel being there, watching him. What does Joel think?   

You clear your throat, refocusing your attention. 

“Let’s get this over with, Tommy.”  

Sassy, indeed.

It was easier to be hard over the phone, joined by nothing more than wires somewhere in space. But as Tommy stands in front of you now, elbows on the kitchen island, hands stretching towards you, all you feel is the velvety pull of attraction. The soft lull of two years spent shrouded in each other. 

His voice is low, but soft — practically a purr. 

“Baby. How do we move past this?” 

You don’t meet his gaze, wrapping your arms around yourself. Looking at anything but him, anything but those warm eyes. You know that if you do, it will be over. 

“Tommy…I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if it’s that easy. You had an affair. You didn’t forget to take the trash out, or-or-or make a shitty comment about my friends. You slept with someone! You had a relationship with her.” Your voice is measured, eyes dragging from the floor to the ceiling. Avoiding. 

“What can I do, peach? Please, just tell me. I’ll do anything.” 

 “It doesn’t change what happened.” You cross your arms over your chest, defiant now. “It won’t change what happened.” 

Exasperated, Tommy slams his hand on the counter, drawing his body to its full height. He’s broad — so broad — his shoulders squared. 

“I get it, okay? I fucked up. You’ve made it clear. Joel has made it clear. I fuckin’ get it!” He clenches his fists, bringing them up to his face. “I fuckin’ get it.” 

You drop your eyes instantly as your pulse quickens. “What do you mean, Joel made it clear?” 

Tommy sighs, deeply, not removing his hands from his face. “Joel will barely fuckin’ talk to me. Can’t get more’n two words out of him. Said he doesn’t blame you for bein’ done with me. Said I know better. And you know what? Yeah, he’s right. I do. Can’t even argue with’m.” 

You hum cooly in agreement, your pulse thrumming in your ears. There is a sudden acute awareness of the change taking place in your perception of Tommy following his words; he’s been wrenched open and put on display for you, and the need to step back from the jarring offering is nearly suffocating.  

“Okay. Okay.” Hands falling to his waist, revealing his eyes. Bloodshot, tired. Surrendering, but sharp. His voice, softer now, velvet dipped in whiskey. “I’m sorry, peach. I can’t even tell you how sorry I am. I wish I could take it all back. I…I know I really fucked up.” 

You hold his desperate gaze for a moment before lowering your eyes to the floor again. 

“Tommy… ” His name splintering across your lips. “I can’t do this. I can’t do this.” That small voice again, cracking. Shattering. Sparkling pieces scattered across the kitchen floor around your feet. Meeting his offering with outstretched, empty palms. Nothing left to give. 

He drops his head, tucking his chin to his chest, and exhales a shaky breath. “Okay, peach. I hear ya.”

You can see his eyes bright with unshed tears. This is the softness that you know, that you’ve craved. The hushed tenderness that you’d shared beneath bed sheets, woven between fingertips brushed against silk skin, delicate whispers in the dark of a once shared bedroom.  

As good as strangers, now. 

The silence settles between you, mourning both what once was and could have been.

When the door closes with Tommy on the other side of it, it feels final. An unfamiliar liquid sense of relief floods your veins, and you breathe deeply. For the first time in a week, you feel like you can suck in enough air to actually fill your lungs. You hadn’t recognized the somber, weepy creature you’d become, and you were sure no one else had, either. Ava had treated you like you were made of glass, afraid you would shatter at any moment. And as much as you had needed that, your stomach twisted into knots at feeling so helpless. Ending things with Tommy — officially — felt like giving yourself permission to dig out the shards and stitch the wound.  

You take in the room around you - a blanket strewn across the arm of the couch, wine glasses littering the coffee table, bottles lined up on the floor in front of it. You shake your head, in something that feels a little like disbelief. The reality of leaving this apartment - your home - had begun to truly set in, but the question of where you would land hung heavy in the air. 

Of course Kit would take you in, if she wasn’t multiple states and thousands of miles away. Ava was an option, having offered her couch to you almost the moment she found out, but you had leaned so heavily on her already that taking more would have made you feel too guilty. A hotel would be too expensive for an open-ended move out date, though the prospect of not having to make your own bed or wash your own sheets was tempting.  

Dropping yourself onto the couch with a heavy sigh, you begin to aimlessly scroll through the contact list in your phone. You know, deep down, that it’s for show, though you don’t know for who. You know, too, that you’ll end up at Ava’s, despite your unwillingness to do so. 

 You lean back, pulling your legs up and stretching them across the cushions. Reaching across the empty wine glasses for the television remote, you click it on before throwing your arm over your eyes. You don’t care what’s on, you just need the sounds. Of people. Of laughing. Of life. Resigning yourself to calling Ava in the morning, you slip into a restless, dreamless sleep.

The Saturday morning sun finds you still curled up on the couch, your legs pulled close to your core. Without opening your eyes, you drop your hand to the floor, feeling for your phone. Finding it nestled partially beneath the frame of the couch, you bring it up to your face, cracking your eyes as little as possible to check the time. There’s a missed call, and when it catches your attention, your eyes fly open completely. 

 Joel Miller - 1 Missed Call & Voicemail

“What the fuuuuck… ” you mumble, swiping to your calls app and bringing the phone to your ear. 

“Uh, hey peach. It’s Joel. Gimme a call back when you get this.” 

You can’t quite place his tone of voice, and your hands tremble as your brain rolls through all the reasons he might be calling you. Did something happen? Is he angry that Tommy is still at his place? Is he angry that you ended it with Tommy? Is he going to try to convince you to take him back? You play the voicemail again, to see if you can catch any stormy inflections in his deep voice - though you glean nothing more than a hazy awareness of the hunger coursing through your blood when he speaks.  

Finally sitting up and crossing your legs beneath you, you stare at the screen for what feels like an eternity. It’s not that Joel scares you, but you don’t know of any time that he’s called you for any reason. Worrying at your bottom lip with your teeth, you finally press the little image of a phone next to his name and wait for the call to connect.

“Yeah?” Joel’s tone is curt, and you can tell he’s at work based on the construction noises you hear in the background. It sets your teeth on edge. You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself. Steeling your nerves.  

“Heyjoelit’s-” you manage to squeak, before you recognize the quiet way his breath hitches. 

“Peach.” and he’s soft. So soft. Softer than you’ve ever known him to be. And it’s your name on his tongue; honeyed and heavenly. You could drown in it. 

“Hi,” you whisper. “I’m just…returning your call.” 

He doesn’t answer immediately, but you hear the opening and closing of a door, the groan of an office chair, and then silence. You would think he’d hung up if you couldn’t hear his deep, even breathing. 

“Peach,” he finally says again, and your skin flares. He clears his throat. “I—there’s— you doin’ okay?” His words are rushed, clumsy, as if he’s trying to get them all out at once. The thought that Joel Miller has anything to say to you, much less too much to say to you, clouds your mind. “Could kill Tommy. Fuckin’ bastard.” 

You laugh once, idly. “I’m holdin’ it together, Joel.” 

“Attagirl.”  

Your skin prickles, and you draw in a surprised gasp. 

He continues, unaware of the change in your breathing. “Look, I, uh, know you’re busy, so I’ll get t’the point. I’ve got an extra room. For you. If ya want it, I mean. I know you’re tryin’ to get out of Tommy’s place, and I’m not lookin’ to rush you or anythin’, just..wanted to offer it up. Rent free, ‘n all that.” You imagine him running his hands through his hair as he stumbles through his speech, clenching his teeth. “Least I could do, with my brother bein’ the dickhead he is.” 

Oh. It’s pity — he feels sorry for you. You bite your tongue, sink your fingernails into your palm, force yourself to focus through the haze in your eyes. Stupid. Stupid girl. 

“Joel, I—” 

“I know ya probably have friends you can stay with. I’m not tryin’ t’be weir — peach, is this weird?” He’s lost in his own thoughts, but stops abruptly when the question escapes. He sounds just as surprised by it as you are.  

 It hangs in the air between you for a moment, and you relish just slightly in the idea that he’s floundering.  

“I don’t need you to feel sorry for me.” you reply, gently. “I’m okay to figure something out on my own. I’m a big girl.” 

“Oh, peach, no. No.” His response is quick, and firm; without any hesitancy, or a second thought. “Don’t for a minute think I don’t know how capable y’are. I know you can, I just don’t want you to have to.” 

 His words sizzle across your flesh, urgent and pleading. They leave you feeling dazed, unsure of the reality of the conversation. Your eyes flick to the furnishings of the apartment, desperate for something to ground you. Trepidation clutches at your throat, rendering you speechless. 

Joel shifts in his chair, and you hear him let out a long breath. “I- I know we don’t know each other. I feel like I’m scarin’ you, darlin’.” 

You shake your head, grasping for what to say. Chest tightening at the thought of his worry, the words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them. “What would Tommy say?” 

It feels like a condemnation; speaking it aloud, between the two of you. As if it would make Joel suddenly realize how wrong it was, to ask this of you. To offer this to you. 

“Tommy doesn’t get to say anythin’.” His whisper-soft tone now a growl, clawing at your insides. It covers you from head to toe, and you feel, for the first time in a very long time, shielded from the hurt. A hurt that exceeded the past week, or Tommy entirely. A hurt that was buried so far inside yourself that the aching reminder it even existed left you reeling. Tears prick at the back of your eyes, and you silently scold yourself for crying again. 

The silence on the phone is comfortable, as if Joel knows that you’re digesting everything he’s saying. True to his word, he’s not rushing you — just sharing the space with you, allowing you to take it all in. 

A loud knocking sounds from his end, and it snaps you out of your trance. 

“Shit, sorry peach. I gotta go.” He sounds further away, muffled; the intimacy of the conversation shattered, as if you had imagined it altogether. 

Then, abruptly, his warm, inviting timbre restored: “Please think about it. Bye, darlin’.”

 “I mean, are you thinking about it?” Ava questions, her eyes on the shirt she’s folding. She’s cross legged on the floor, while you stack books in the cardboard box at your feet. 

It hadn’t occurred to you how little you had to call your own, until you had to put it all in boxes.  

You don’t respond to Ava’s question immediately, instead chewing on your bottom lip gently. Turning it over and over in your mind, formulating the most diplomatic response. 

“How bad would it be if I was?” You avoid her eyes, which you know have turned to daggers at your back. 

It’s her turn to mull the question over, bobbing her head side to side as she considers. 

“Tommy’d be pissed.” It’s pointed, but not malicious. Honest. “But…we don’t care what Tommy thinks anymore, do we?” 

 You drop your head, smiling mildly behind the curtain of your hair. No, we in fact, do not. 

“Plus, he’s very…handsome.” Ava chooses her words carefully, but you know to read between the lines: Joel is fuckin’ hot. “The whole ‘older man’ thing really works for you, babe.” 

“Kit would be more upset than Tommy, I guarantee it.” You laugh softly, unable to help yourself. You get cheated on by someone more than fifteen years older than you, and immediately move in with someone even older? You imagine your sister tutting at you, ever the mother-figure. 

“No doubt.” Ava rolls her eyes affectionately as you turn to her. You plant your hands on your hips and survey the bedroom around you. “Seriously, though, how would the…logistics of living with Joel work? Would you, like, have dinner together? Hang out? Be friends?”

You laugh, despite the anxiety settled in the pit of your stomach. “I don’t know, Av. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I’m kind of hung up on the whole ‘moving in with my ex-boyfriend’s brother’ part of it all.” 

Now it’s her turn to plant her hands at her hips. “Are we still harboring some feelings about Tommy Miller, doll?” Her eyebrow quirks. 

“Av! Come on. We spent two years together! I’m not just gonna get over it like that.” You snap your fingers before bending down to close the now-full box below you. 

“You know what they say…the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.” Ava waggles her eyebrows, and you laugh, full-bellied, at her levity. “You’re a fox, girl. Believe it or not.” 

You roll your eyes, shoving the box out of the door of the bedroom, into the hallway. 

“And he’ll be helping you move all this, right? To his house?” 

“Nope!” you chirp brightly, “that would be you, babe!”

Kit, as you had anticipated, is not thrilled about the idea of you moving in with Joel. You call her from your office phone on Monday morning, gripping the receiver so hard your knuckles are white. 

“Are you kidding? How are you even entertaining the idea?” Her voice is unflinching, and you tap the fingers of your free hand against your desktop, mildly annoyed. 

“I’m 28, Kit.” You remind her, as you always do. “I’m the one who would deal with the fallout. Not you. Besides, it’s not like I have a ton of options.” 

She scoffs, and you can imagine her rolling her eyes. “So you’ve told him yes, then?”  

“No! That’s why I’m…taking a survey. Feeling it out.” You mumble, “You’re obviously not on board.” 

Kit sighs, drawn out and heavy. “I know you don’t care what I think. I know you’re an adult. I just…worry about you. I’m so far away, and if anything happened…” 

You cut her off. “I appreciate that. A lot. But at some point, I have to take care of myself.” 

“I don’t think moving in with a 50 year old man qualifies as taking care of yourself.” She’s trying to be delicate, you can tell, but her remark is biting. 

Twirling the phone cord around your fingers, you purse your lips. 

“Why don’t you come stay with us for a bit? Maybe an extended vacation?” You can picture the sticky countertops, loud toys, an uncomfortable pullout couch. And Kit’s husband, awkward and gangly, never shutting up about ‘the economy’. Kit sounds somewhat hopeful, though, and it makes your heart quiver. 

“Kit…I can’t leave my job. The one stable thing I have going for me.” 

 “They have finance jobs here.” 

 “I’m not letting Tommy run me out of Austin.” You echo Ava’s words, an indignant feeling rising in your chest. “I’ve got a whole career here. This is…a minor setback. If I do move in with Joel, it won’t be for forever.”    

She laughs softly, but you clock the reluctance. 

“I promise. I’m okay. I am okay. I will be okay.” 

Kit pauses. “You’ll tell me if you’re not?” 

“Yeah. Yes. Of course.” 

“Well,” she clicks her tongue against her teeth, “best of luck, peach. It sounds like you have your mind made up.”

You shove the last box into the back of your Subaru, and dust your hands off on your leggings. 

     “Are you absolutely sure you’re okay with this, Joel?” 

     “Yes. Stop askin’ me.”   

      “If I’m too much, at all, I don’t have to stay.” 

     “Peach.” It’s a warning. “It’s Tommy that I need out of my space.” 

Calling Joel back to accept his offer had been harder than every other aspect of moving out of Tommy’s apartment. Once you and Ava had packed all of your belongings, you stood back to observe — and it was like you had never lived there in the first place. The only thing that truly felt different about the space was that you knew you didn’t live there anymore. You feel a pang in your chest thinking about how Tommy would feel without you there — you didn’t know if him missing you or not missing you would be worse. 

“Anything left?” Silas, Ava’s boyfriend-du-jour asks, from your elbow. 

You shake your head, pulling down the hatch to close the back of the car. “Just the key. Which you don’t have to stick around for.” You give him a watery smile, feeling the weight of the day through every muscle in your body. 

He nods. “Cool, cool. I’ll grab Ava. We can meet you over there?” 

You hum in agreement before turning back to the building. Going up the steps to the second floor feels mechanical, a recreation of the thousands of times you’ve done it before, and your legs carry you automatically. The last time, now. Pulling in a large breath, you exhale through your nose, centering yourself while you click the door open.  

Sunlight streams through the windows, bathing everything in the late afternoon light. You glaze your eyes over the room, not searching for anything forgotten, but committing it to memory one final time. You recognize that it feels less like a chapter closing and more like a freefall into something entirely unknown — into the mouth of something that lurks beneath the surface, teeth gnashing, ready to consume. 

Leaving the key on the kitchen island feels like an offering to that dark entity, but you’re ready — willing — to tumble headfirst into it. So you do, with no grandeur, and no looking back, just a deep breath out and the millstone around your neck lifted. 

Joel’s truck isn’t in the driveway when you arrive at his house. Ava is posted up against her car, Silas still in the driver’s seat, arm out the window at her waist. You wave as you pull up, masking the fear radiating through your extremities. 

You throw the Subaru into park, and Ava jogs over to meet you. Her eyes are wide, but kind, as you close the door behind you. 

“Okay?” She asks, her hand gentle on your arm. 

You nod, swallowing hard. “Feels kinda surreal, Av. But I’m good.” 

Brushing her off, you make your way to the front door. There’s an envelope clipped to the mailbox, ‘peach’ scribbled on the front of it, and your hands shake as you grasp it. 

‘I wanted to give you some space while you got settled. Your key is in the envelope. Make yourself at home — I’ll check on you in the morning. —Joel’ 

Your heart flutters as you pull out a house key, with a keychain in the shape of a peach threaded through the top of it. Your breath catches in your chest as you run the metal through your fingers, tightening them around it. If Tommy’s key had been an anchor, Joel’s feels like a lifesaver. 

Blinking back tears, hands still shaking, you slide the key into the lock and twist. 

Eat your heart out, Tommy Miller.

#my therapist would be so proud of me for actually posting this #joel x reader #joel miller fanfic #joel miller #joel miller tlou #the last of us hbo #pedro pascal fanfic #tommy x reader #joel miller x f!reader

[kiichxko]

If you go I'll stay, you come back I'll be right here.

After the love of your life returns back from spain, you decide to hold a small but much needed celebration with him, together.

Warnings: gn reader, angsty undertones, hurt/comfort?? possibly ooc sae bc idk how to write him, no beta we die like the light in rin's eyes. Not proofread it's 12 am and i cant sleep so sorry if it seems rushed

Word count: 539 words

"Hm? What's this?" Sae curiously eyed the mysterious box laid out on the table, before shifting his gaze towards you with a raised eyebrow.

You said nothing, other than silently gesturing for him to open it with an encouraging smile on your face. Sae complies, albeit hesitantly. As he carefully opens the box, his eyes widen slightly in surprise.

"Cake?" He blinks, confused. Sure, you were full of surprises (literally), but you getting him cake was completely out of nowhere.

Four different slices of cake to be exact.

"Do you like it?" You looked at him expectantly, absent-mindedly drumming your fingers against the mahogany table.

"I would've gotten you four whole cakes if I could, but those were too expensive so I had to settle for these." You sheepishly grinned, grabbing a plastic fork that came along with the cakes.

"Here, I got them each in your favourite flavours, which one do you wanna eat first?" You handed Sae a fork and a paper plate, who was still dumbstruck from the surprise. "Come on Sae, before I decide to eat them all myself!" You nudged him playfully, before taking a small bite out of the strawberry shortcake.

"Why…" Your boyfriend began to speak, pursing his lips to form a small frown, he didn't look upset or annoyed at all however, he looked… thoughtful.

"Why did you get me these?" He asked blankly, with no hint of any emotion behind it. It made your stomach twist, oh no, does he not like sweets? That could be the reason, he was a renowned athlete after all, a prodigy.

Why did you even bother to try?

"I uh, just wanted to surprise you, y'know?" The words begin to choke in your throat, your cheerful smile falters a little, something chips away inside you, it's heavy, and it tugs at your heartstrings uncomfortably.

"I missed you, a lot."

Ah, he realises.

Four cakes.

Four years.

Four miserable years that he's been away, from his home, his brother.

From you.

And suddenly, you find yourself engulfed in Sae's slightly shaky, but warm embrace, finally. Strong arms awkwardly wrap around your body as you bury your head into the crook of his neck, sighing deeply in relief.

"I… I missed you too." Sae says, hugging you tighter like his life depended on it. Like you were the very air he breathed in.

"God, I'm no good for you, mi amor." He muttered softly into your ear, with how close you both were, you could now clearly see just how tired he was.

"Shush, don't say that. I wouldn't trade you for anyone else." You nuzzled your face into Sae's chest, shutting your eyes to relish this moment even more as you felt your lover press a gentle kiss onto your forehead.

You wished you could stay like this forever.

And you both did, kind of.

"So, can I eat my cake now?" Sae interrupted after a while.

"Wow, how nice of you to ruin the moment, genius."

"Mi amor, I thought you said these cakes were for me, no? Also that strawberry shortcake is mine."

"If you want, fine but- Hey, where are you going?! At least let me hug you for a little longer!"

A/N: normalise sae speaking in spanish !! Aughh i cant believe i actually finished a drabble omg anyways byebye i should sleep rn

Tagging: @kaveh-kisser (the one and only sae stan)

#blue lock #itoshi sae #itoshi sae x reader #sae itoshi x reader #blue lock fanfiction #blue lock fluff #blue lock angst #blue lock drabbles

[jackoshadows]

What is it about Sansa stans and Jonsa stans in particular that they love to justify Catelyn's abuse of Jon? I have even read a post from one them saying 'Bastardphobia is justified'.

This person has a whole post about how Sansa was forced to love Joffrey - there is no evidence of this in the books at all! Their Sansa tag is full of this version of a Sansa who is always treated badly by her family. Jon Snow on the other hand - how dare he complain, Catelyn was a saint!

Like literally it's Catelyn who pushed Ned to accept the betrothal of Sansa to Joffrey when Ned protests that Sansa is too young! But no, it's all Ned's fault and his so called 'favoritism' to Arya that traumatized Sansa and forced her to love Joffrey!

Meanwhile, how dare Jon complain? Catelyn was a saint!

Oh and also they have this post on there where apparently Dany had it better than Sansa because marital rape is very common and she apparently got three dragons after being raped so that makes it better?

Apparently those dragons hatched fully grown from their eggs and immediately started helping Dany while Sansa had to use ' a woman's courtesy' to survive and not because she was an important hostage or Sandor and Tyrion protecting her from Joffrey or Littlefinger getting her out of KL. Nah, Sansa did all that by herself just by saying please and thank you while Dany's Dragons just jumped out of their eggs and forced everyone to work for her...

Like guys...

sansa has to use "a womans courtesy and grace" to get herself out of potentially harmful situations. we also see this with dany's 'seduction' of drogo. the only difference is that sansa is never given dragons to protect herself like daenerys is.

Those dragons were inside their bloody eggs when Dany was married to Drogo!! How did they protect her?!

To understand how ridiculous the asoiaf fandom on tumblr is, this post comparing the rape/sexual assault of two female characters in order to falsely argue that one had it easier than the other has nearly 700 notes!

Let's see what they have to say about Arya...

Ah one of those 'Arya is masculine, rash and cold blooded'.

Notice how this misogynistic and false description of Catelyn as being rash and cold blooded has been made up by these Sansa stans but her canonical treatment of Jon Snow is A-OK and she was saint dammit! Catelyn slander is totally fine when it's to prop up Sansa as the perfect people's feminist princess and drag Arya down as violent and impulsive. However, discussion of Catelyn's canonical treatment of Jon Snow is off limits because look, Cersei murdered bastards!

So Arya is 'masculine, rash and cold-blooded'. What about Sansa?

guys it's too ridiculous....I can't

Imagine reading Sansa's thoughts on the smallfolk/Mycah, Jon being a bastard, victim blaming Mycah for his death, her mocking of Arya's appearance, her having no patience for Jeyne's crying because they could hear Jeyne's father and other Stark men being slaughtered outside their door, her siding against her little sister and supporting Joffrey by lying, her betraying Ned by tattling all of his plans to Cersei, her pushing Maester Coleman to dose little sick SweetRobin with Sweetsleep when the Maester tells her it's dangerous for him because 'Father and I have larger concerns'. Imagine reading all that and then writing that Sansa is 'compassionate to a fault with a strong sense of empathy and honor' as opposed to 'cold-blooded' Arya. Imagine that. I can't.

Oh and btw they should change this to No.1 Sansa supremacist because they clearly don't care for Jon or Arya or Robb or Bran or Ned or even Catelyn.

I am just so very tired of people using Cersei's actions to justify Catelyn's abuse of Jon.... Cersei murdered Robert's bastards! Catelyn is a saint for not doing the same and Jon should be thankful. How dare fandom criticize Catelyn when Cersei exists. And this nonsense is perpetuated by the same folks indulging in the utterly nauseating oppression olympics of how Sansa simply had it the worst of everyone right from AGoT I.

According to these people, there is apparently no shades of grey in terms of the morality of these characters. According to these people, good characters don't have flaws instead of the books being about even good guys doing bad things and even bad guys doing good things.

#fandom nonsense #anti Sansa stans

[imwall-e]

You and Us - CHAPTER 5

Pairing : Sebastian Stan x Reader x Bucky

Warning : 18+, MINOR DNI, smut, angst, fluff, voyeurism, masturbation (m, f receiving), breeding kink, a bit of dom Bucky I guess

A/N : As someone who doesn't write smut very often, I am really proud of me. I know the more I'll write, the better I'll get! Please, do not hesitate to give me advice or to correct me as English isn't my first language !

Bucky was sitting on the couch, his eyes firmly closed. Maybe you were right, maybe he should stop fighting all the time. But he felt like he was nothing without that, because that's all he knew for so many years. What was he good at outside of being a soldier ?

"Is everything okay ?" he heard a voice. Not yours unfortunately. "I saw Y/N rushing to your bedroom and it looked like she was crying." Sebastian. The actor. Your favourite one.

Damn, he really looks like me.

"Yeah, I kind of screwed things over."

"I don't know her much, but from what I understood, she loves you more than anything in the world. Whatever you did, I'm sure you can work this out."

Maybe he was right. But right now, you didn't want to see him and he had to accept this. Even if the wait was long. To make time go faster he invited Sebastian to stay with him. He used his "staring problem" on him, saying that they should "talk about last night". Poor man was terrified for a few seconds, but it helped Bucky to laugh and lightened his mood.

Surprisingly enough, the two men started to get along. They talked about their families. Bucky explained how life was back when he lived in the 20th century. They also shared their unfortunate experience with Hydra. The former assassin didn't enter into too much detail, but enough so Sebastian would understand.

They exchange like that for a moment. Until the night settled.

Bucky was really tired, the last mission, the fear of losing the woman he loved more than his own life, it was too much. He needed some sleep. There was no reply when he knocked softly on the door of your shared room.

You'd fallen asleep with the light on and Bucky could see your reddened nose, a few tissues that hadn't ended up in the bin, and your pillow a little wet. All the signs were that you'd been crying, and not just a little.

He blamed himself terribly. You were supposed to be able to count on him, and he'd let you down. It wouldn't happen again. He changed into his pyjamas and joined you in bed, putting an arm around you and taking care not to wake you up.

He had dozed off for just over an hour when he felt you stir. You slowly opened your eyes. The alarm clock said two o'clock in the morning. Bucky was still hugging you, his hand holding one of yours. You turned to him and smiled, still half asleep. Then that smile disappeared as quickly as it had arrived. Bucky remembered at the same time as you: he'd made a decision to go on a mission when you needed him. But he needed you too. He pulled you close and placed a kiss on your head.

"Please don't go. Please, Navy," you whispered, tears welling up in your eyes.

"I'm staying dragostea mea, I'll go and see Fury first thing tomorrow. You're right, I don't have to fight all the time."

"Promise?" You asked, dipping your gaze into his. "I promise." Bucky felt the relief of his answer, such a relief that you kissed him. A sweet kiss that quickly turned to passion. You both needed it.

Bucky moved you on top of him, running his hands from your hips to your ass. You were wearing nothing but a tank top and panties, while Bucky was dressed only in his grey sweatpants, outfits that turned you both on. And it didn't help that you were rubbing your sex against his. Bucky knew he was hard as ever, and he was sure you were soaking wet.

He needed to know. To feel it. To hear you enjoying yourself. He switched positions, then stood up. You watched him remove his trousers, and Bucky loved the desire he saw in your eyes. Just as he saw you start to take off your shirt, he got back on top of you, locking your hands above your head.

"Don't take away my pleasure in undressing you, dragostea mea."

"James, please don't keep me waiting."

"You're right, we've both waited too long." Then he ripped off your shirt before starting to suck on your nipples, making you moan softly.

His metal hand played with the breast that wasn't under the onslaught of his mouth, then began to slide gently over your stomach, then your hip, to finally linger at the level of your thighs and caress your intimacy.

You were already soaking wet. You were moving your hips hoping to have some relief. Your clitoris ached, a pain brought on by all the pleasure you felt, by the desire to feel Bucky inside you. But he wanted to wait, to enjoy this moment. Yet even he couldn't hold on any longer, so he plunged two of his metal fingers deep into your pussy, and you screamed with pleasure.

"James, please, don't stop !" you begged, one hand in his hair, the other gripping the pillow as if you were going to fall from all the pleasure the man between your legs was giving you.

As an answer, he stopped, replacing his fingers with his mouth and tongue. And damn, you tasted so sweet, he could feast on you forever. The moans escaping your mouth only made him harder. He knew you were getting closer by the way you were chanting his name.

"Come on my face, baby. Come on, make a mess", he said between licks of your pussy. He craved being inside you, but you had to come first. Which didn't take long with all the praises and touches he was giving you.

You were still shaking when he lined up to your entrance, and penetrated you in one thrust. It got you to arch your back. He was fucking you through your orgasm. The one of many. Another was building up with each hard thrust Bucky was giving you, eating that sweet spot of yours every time.

"Fuck… James! James! James! Please." It was all you could say. It was good. Perfect.

"Does it feel good?" He smirked when you nodded. "Like that, right?" he continued, abusing that sweet spot, not slowing down.

The second orgasm hit you hard. Your eyes rolled back, and Bucky was pretty sure he'd have marks on his back with how hard you were gripping him. He was close, but he knew he could go all night, so he teased you again : "Damn, you're so tight. I won't last long. Gonna cum in that pretty pussy. Gonna get you pregnant so everyone knows who you belong to, even that actor you like."

"All yours, Bucky!" you screamed as he painted your walls with his cum.

After a few more thrusts, Bucky laid down beside you, opening his arm so you could curl up against him. You looked tired : "Sleep, dragostea mea. Take some rest for our next round." A smile spread across your face, and you closed your eyes. Bucky moved slowly as he turned off the small light, not wanting to wake you up yet.

But before doing that, he glanced at the door, which had remained ajar. He had heard Sebastian while he was buried deep inside you. He had heard the actor stop near your room. He must have got up in the middle of the night.

Sebastian had heard you.

But Bucky had heard him too.

Sebastian couldn't help but hear what was going on. He had heard and listened to your moans, your cries of pleasure. He wanted you to scream out his name in the same way you did for the Sergeant.

He should have left. But it was so exciting listening to you. And before he could hold back, his hand was in his boxers, pumping his member harder than ever. He imagined himself on top of you, under you. His hands caressing you, his mouth exploring your body. He was cumming at the same time as you, his breath coming in gasps. Your name escaping his lips in a whisper.

He returned to his bedroom, exhausted.

He didn't know that Bucky heard him.

And he didn't know that Bucky had an idea.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, the next one will by spicy too !

Thank you for reading me, and do not hesitate to vote, share and comment if you feel comfortable to do so :D

~ Willow

Tag list : @kandis-mom @cjand10 @dispatchvampire @con4cyn @floralwsloki

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #bucky barnes fanfiction #james buchanan barnes #bucky x y/n #sebastianstan #bucky fanfiction #bucky x you #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader x bucky barnes #sebastian stan x reader #sebastianstanfan #sebastian stan fanfiction

[ghoulish-art-tendencies]

Opinions about the movie it: Specifically, about Richie and Eddie and their whole deal. and How they defeat Pennywise the first time.

Also have you read the book?

SPOILERS AHEAD, in can you could not have guessed.

Okay so IT. IT is one of my top 3 movies of all time (if not all time) in which I watched it about 5 times in a week when I first got into it. (I also have not read the book yet but I have been planning on it for a while, just need to get my hands on it.) I really enjoyed it personally, and I don't think it is that scary anymore, but I was originally scared shitless the first time I tried to watch it years ago when I was not into horror yet. Even though it was made in 2017, it still has that 80s horror feel to it that I love, and I love the dynamic between the group of 7 in the first movie.

Now buckle up, because I am about to go full on special interest on this ask and yap about its inherent queerness and how it affects the story line and how it could've been used more.

Richie, Eddie, and the inherent queerness between the two. It was very clear that Richie, if not Eddie as well, were very much implied to be interested in each other.

But more specifically Richie. I honestly wish they did more with them, but it was very clear that they were a duo; a pair within the original group of 4. Putting it out now: I have not actually seen IT Chapter 2 all the way through as I kept crying over Stanley's death, and I honestly was extremely disappointed in how they handled the film as a whole, and the decline in quality. So, my information may not be entirely correct, but in the end of IT chapter 2, we see a clip of Richie carving he and Eddie's initials into the bridge. As well as I believe when Eddie dies later in the film, Richie tries to go back to get his body/doesn't want to leave him behind. Richie was obviously head over heels for him from the start to finish, and you could tell. From the constant bickering; teasing; borderline obsession that he had for Eddie. In the book, I believe Richie would also call Eddie "Eddie Spaghetti" multiple times, don't quote me though. All of this to say, Richie loved Eddie. A LOT. To the point that in the second movie Richie was out as gay but STILL hadn't found a lover, whilst we see both Stanley, Bill, and Eddie married, as well with Beverly with a boyfriend (in the beginning of the film, at least). I am not saying that some of these relationships are healthy by any means (especially Eddie's which I will explain soon), but it goes to show that many of the people from the core 7 found relationships, and yet Richie did not.

Now Eddie is slightly more complicated, as all throughout IT we see the toxic relationship between his mother, and how she gaslit him into believing he was sick all the time. This would then later end up with him marrying someone else very similar to his mother who treated him very much the same. Then, at the end where he ends up dying, it ends very tragically where his whole life he had to live with people being very controlling over him and him never getting to experience that freedom he deserved. I bring this up because in IT, we see near the end where Eddie is told that his medication are placebos, and he tells his mother he's tired of her trying to keep him away from his friends. He realised there that he was happier and more free when he was with his friends, and (though not said) specifically Richie as well in my opinion. Richie was unabashedly himself, and wasn't afraid to be weird with his friends. I know it is strongly theorised that Richie is ADHD as well, which could also play a part. All the while both Stan and Bill are more reserved in my opinion, both as Bill was self-conscious because of his stutter, and Stanley being bullied for being jewish (both of which we see happen in the beginning of IT). Eddie felt more comfortable around his friends, and specifically Richie because he truly did not care enough about acting weird. Though I believe it is never actually shown that Eddie had a romantic interest in Richie, I strongly believe it could've been something if the writers allowed it.

Now, Eddie and Richie's interactions with each other (in the first movie, because as I have said I have not seen enough of the second movie to speak on it much). Many times, we see specifically Richie and Eddie interacting. To be honest, they are probably the 2 people we see interacting the most throughout the entire movie. One scene I want to bring up specifically, which took me multiple watches to catch, is that at I believe the Derry festival, Richie comes back with 2 ice cream cones, and gives one to Eddie. Now, whether Eddie had directly asked him to get him a cone, or Richie just buying it for him, I think it shows just how much Richie did care about him. I think it shows a little bit of how they interact with each other when we don't see them (on camera). And sure, you can buy ice cream for your friends, but would you not also either ask if anyone else wanted one? You could make the argument that he couldn't carry it but it doesn't disprove the fact Richie specifically bought ice cream for Eddie, which shows how he cared for him.

Richie and Eddie are also constantly bickering back and forth. From when Eddie is trying to help Ben after getting stabbed and him telling Richie to shut up with the silly voices, or in the sewer scene where Richie constantly bickers to Eddie about him being afraid to enter. You can obviously see Richie being the comedic relief, but always more-so to Eddie. To me, I interpret this as him seeing that Eddie is almost always on edge, and trying to distract him to make sure he's happier. And while we do see Eddie get annoyed at Richie, I don't think we ever truly saw him get angry at him or be upset, other than slightly annoyed or exasperated.

I know l am yapping, but to answer your next question about how they defeated pennywise the first time, I think Richie and Eddie's relationship still play a fairly large role. They learn that in order to defeat Pennywise, they have to stop being afraid. We see Richie constantly worry about Eddie when in the house, and basically stuck to his side. In the scene where they are in Bill's garage and watching the projector, when Pennywise shows up on it, we see in the background Richie grabbing onto Eddie, and Eddie grabbing onto him. In a moment of fear, they automatically reached towards each other. This to me they they feel most safe when they are together/close. This makes me think that Richie was really the one that helped Eddie be brave enough to face Pennywise and defeat him. While I think Richie was able to be brave enough to defeat Pennywise because he not only cares about the group but also wanted to keep Eddie safe.

All of this to say; Richie and Eddie were very much implied to be queer (in the movies); even more-so when Richie was confirmed to be gay in the second movie. I really wish that we got to see Richie and Eddie get together to not only have that queer representation, but because I honestly think it would have been a healthy relationship, like it was in the beginning. Richie constantly distracting and teasing Eddie; then comforting each other in times of fear; doing little things for the other. They both cared about each other a lot and I am truly disappointed on the fact we never got to see a happy ending for Eddie, where after years of being in an abusive relationship where Eddie is made to be dependent on the people that are supposed to be your most trusted, he just, dies. We never get to see him get out of those relationships and find someone better (AKA Richie). I truly think the story of Richie and Eddie after IT Chapter 2 could have been its own movie or mini series/book (even though it wouldn't have been). To see Richie be in contact with Eddie again and maybe help him realise he's in an abusive relationship and help him get out of it. At that point it doesn't when have to be romantic but just a deep and intense love for wanting the other to be happy. It would have made a great ending of 2 characters finally finding happiness in each other again after years of struggling.

So there. You asked about my opinion of IT and here it is. This took me like an hour as I immediately started writing after getting this ask, but I enjoyed it. It's nice to finally put my thoughts on this movie into a (hopefully) coherent analysis. Even if like 1 person reads this lol I am happy I got the opportunity to yap about my all time favourite movie. :D Thanks for the ask, and again, sorry about the excessive yapping.

#IT #it chapter one #it the movie #it movie #it chapter 2 #it chapter two #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #analysis #long reads #long post #yapping #queer analysis #queer #movie analysis #asks #answered asks #yapyapyap

[butwhatifidothis]

Hi, I'm really sorry if this does come off sounding rude. I've followed your 3h content for a while now so I was around to see the drama with raxis and things like moonlitboar occur. It really does suck and I've seen a lot of toxic edelgard stans myself in the fandom. I do understand how raxis does tend to block evade thus making it a prolonged conflict with no easy end. But I can't help but feel that the discord screenshots you've posted have not helped in resolving the conflict. I don't think that you have been wrong about the culture of toxicity inside the discord but I feel that the discord screenshots may have escalated the conflict since now there are people there who are becoming very paranoid about about "spying" (which in itself a little bit of a grey area because it is a public discord) . But I think that paranoia in the discord now has the potential to turn really ugly and further radicalize more people in the discord. And because there are some neutral people in that discord who do seem to want to just block and ignore/tired of some arguments, I think that an end to the discord screenshots would keep them from being swayed by the paranoia/ a sign of good faith. I really don't think that you are in the wrong when it comes to this whole thing with raxis. I think that raxis's actions and behavior do deserve to be called out in the past and present. But I just feel like trying to call out one person is one thing but a whole discord is just a very huge and impossible challenge. I think that the discord is just best left ignored as these people have clearly made it clear that they really don't want to be reasoned with or want to change and I think that they are getting really dangerous. I really do hope this doesn't come off as both sides are bad because I do believe that this problem has always originated from Raxis. Sorry this got so long and I really do wish you all the best.

It's no problem; I understand where you're coming from.

What I feel about it is this: people from outside the server did not know the depths this server was sinking into. Leaving them alone as we have been would have resulted in them continuing to go on as though everything was fine as long as they confined their rhetoric to a certain spot; I feel it's important to remind people that that is not true, as that would only isolate the problem while doing nothing to actually rectify it or stop it from getting worse (even though this of course isn't going to magically cure everything either, to be clear).

Even well before I posted these specific screenshots, they were paranoid about the entire fandom "persecuting and targeting" them for "no reason," they were paranoid about how everyone is "out to get" Edelgard in FE's general fandom spaces, they were paranoid that every single other person who ever criticizes them is some form of evil bigot (which would normally be a bit of an exaggeration, if it wasn't for them genuinely saying this every single time something like this happens); at worst, this will just be used as yet another scapegoat to continue their self-fulfilling prophecy of being generally disliked in the fandom. At best, this warns people about what's been going on - a miracle could even happen and some of the people in the server can see what the higher ups in their server have been letting slide and leave.

I called out Raxis because of the harm he was (and, frankly, still is) doing to others, and I am doing the same to the Edelgang discord because of the harm their mods have either allowed to happened or have outright participated in themselves. Given the general consensus of people from the outside's reactions (that being shock and/or disgust), I think it's ultimately important to warn people of harmful actors and the rhetoric they spread.

Especially given how they responded. If there was any sign of remorse for what was done - Shandale disavowing their previous beliefs, or if that didn't happen them getting unmodded/banned/some sort of action done from the mod team, or even just some pushback from the general members (something they were more than ready to do in defense of Raxis, and something they were willing to do when these sentiments were first said) - I would have been more than ready to delete the screenshots and apologize for showing them. But their defense of it - that it was "taken out of context," as though what was said could ever be alright to say, as though they do in fact stand by them - shows the importance of calling this behavior out.

They do not think it was that bad. They think these sentiments are okay to have, as long as they are in the "right context." And I don't think it's okay for people to not know that given how dangerous the rhetoric is

#ask #anon #I appreciate and understand the concern though! don't worry you don't come off that way #I just think that leaving it alone isn't really going to do any good either at this point #so I'd rather let people know to avoid this

[yanderepuck]

I know you guys never get tired of my petplay so I've COME TO GIVE YOU MORE OF IT

Obviously it's Theo. Who else would it be.

I feed you Theo stans well, not with content you really want, but I feed you.

This goes a little hard and has quite a bit of degrading

"Say that again, hondje."

You whine. You can't even see him but you can imagine that hot stupid grin on his face. "P-please, master."

"That's what I wanted to hear," his voice for deeper and you just knew he already had a plan.

Theo has you blindfolded with your hands tied above your head. Your shirt is already unbuttoned, leaving your chest exposed.

You gasp and arch your back as you feel Theo's mouth on your breast, each hand cups one of your boobs while his mouth gives attention to your nipple. As you squirm you can feel his hard member against you.

Using some teeth, he gently bites your nipple and pulls it. It sent a shock of please through your body, causing you to moan. His hands squeeze and massage your boobs and his mouth pulls away.

"Look at how flushed you are just from that," he then grabs the bottom half of your jaw to make you look in what you guess is his direction. "It's so pathetic. I love it."

Your bottom half squirms more, wanting some sort of pleasure, just anything.

"Go on and speak, hondje. Be a good girl and use your words."

Your mouth already feels dry and you just got started. "I- I want you to fuck me."

"And who am I to you?"

You whine again. "My...my master."

"Good girl," he tugs on the leash he has you on. "My good little hondje is finally learning."

He lifts your skirt up and rubs you through your panties, you're already soaked panties. This teasing has lasted longer than you can stand, and much longer than you thought Theo could control himself.

You rub your legs together for more friction but he quickly spreads them apart.

"Stay."

You whine and try so hard not to squirm that you forget to breathe. You feel him moving in the bed and then hear the sound of his clothes dropping to the floor. Why does he get to see you sprawled out, helpless in the bed and you can't even see his chest?

You end up pouting at this thought, and Theo obviously notices. He pulls the leash enough to force you to sit up. "What's with that look. A whining dog doesn't get what they want, you know."

The air seemed to be pushed out of your lungs as you were so forcefully pulled up. You couldn't even speak now, just let out soft moans from the feeling of the collar choking you.

"I like you like this more," he strokes your hair and kisses you roughly before letting you fall back into the bed.

His touch is gentle despite how quickly he's trying to get your skirt and underwear off. You do your best to help him by moving your hips up.

"Hmmm. Look at how beautiful you are."

His hands glide up your legs, squeezing your thighs, and grabbing your hips. His hands slide under you to firmly grab your ass.

"And you're all mine to use."

He presses his tip against your opening, but doesn't enter you yet.

You whine again and start to squirm. He's so close but still too far. "M-master please!"

"Please what?"

"Fuck me already. I want you so badly it hurts," if he teased you anymore you think you would cum just by touch, that's how needy you are.

"Aww, aren't you adorable when you beg," he pushes his tip inside. "But don't forget I'm the one who makes the rules."

Theo wraps the leash around one of his hands to keep it tight. With his other hand he holds onto your waist firmly.

You're so wet is cock just slides right in. You gasp and pull your hands against their restraint. How do you keep forgetting how big he is. You think you would be used to his size by now.

"Why don't we try fitting all of me inside you. I should be able to feel you all the way up here," he presses his thumb against you, just below your belly button.

He slowly pushes more of himself into you, watching your face contort as he stretches you. "I think I'm getting closer," he presses more firmly on your skin.

Theo takes one of your legs and puts it over his shoulder so it's easier to get deeper. You gasp and pull your hands again.

"Almost there," he chuckles deeply. He's looking down and watching his cock disappear into you. "You're doing so well, hondji. If you keep this up I'll give you a reward."

Youve been biting your lip, not wanting to scream or moan too loudly. You are technically getting what you wanted, his cock inside you, but he's going so deep you aren't sure if you can take it all.

"There we go. All the way in."

You didn't even notice but you were holding your breath. You finally let your lip go and moan. Theo runs his hand against your abdomen. "I can feel me all the way up here."

He can tell you're trying so hard not to move. Your legs are already trembling from your self control.

"I think I'll stay like this for a bit. You are my personal cock warmer after all."

He loosens the leash and rubs his hands up your torso to grope your breasts.

"I've always wanted to put my cock between your tits and pleasure myself that way," he squeezes them roughly, almost too rough.

"M-master," you moan much louder than you expected. "P-please fuck me," you're breathing got heavy. "Fuck me and fill me with your cum," your walls started to tighten around him, anything for the slightly bit of movement.

He moans. "I guess I've had you wait long enough," he ends up pulling out just enough to leave his tip in, then once he has a good hold on your waist he slams back into you.

You yell out, not expecting him to thrust with so much force, but you don't have a chance to catch your breath. He keeps thrusting, but he's not going as deep as you know he can.

Theo moans and uses you the way he wants.

You already feel your body reaching its climax. With as much teasing as he did, you knew it wouldn't take long, but you knew Theo could last a while.

There have been times you've needed a break and he hasn't even cum yet, and this might be one of those times.

Theo leans down and kisses your lips roughly. "You're going to cum already, aren't you?"

You're at the point already where you can't even speak, you're already overstimulated that you can't form words, only moans and whines.

He chuckles. "I didn't realize you loved my cock this much."

Theo didn't slow down, even after he got you to cum twice. After the third time he slowed down and pulled out of you.

"Let's try something else."

You can't tell if you were relieved or upset that he's left you empty now. All you could do was pant. Theo turns you over into your stomach and makes you get on your knees.

"Would you look at that," he grains as he grabs your ass, then spanks you. You let out a yelp and jerk forward slightly. He moves you back to where he put you. "Stay!"

He spanks you again and then rubs the red mark he left. You whimper and bury your head into a pillow.

"Good girl," he purrs. "You're being such a good girl," he strokes your hair before grabbing a fist full of it and pulling your face out of the pillow. "but I want to hear those moans and screams. I want you to scream my name every time I make you cum," his voice got lower and lower as he spoke in your ear. "Can you do that, hondji?"

You nod your head "Y-yes master!"

"Good girl," he lets you go and strokes your hair down, fixing the mess he made. "Now keep your pretty little ass up for me."

He speaks your legs slightly and enters you again. He moans as he pushes himself all the way in before thrusting again.

He's hitting at different angles now, and it's easier for him to get deeper, meaning your screams get louder. Every time you try to muffle yourself he pulls on your leash and slams into you.

"T-Theo!" You scream his name as you cum again, and each time after that you scream his name. You wonder how much longer he's able to go. How isn't he tired yet. You're barely doing anything and your body feels like it's going to collapse.

Suddenly he loosens on the leash and holds your hips firmly. "F-fill me, master!"

Theo keeps a firm hold on you until he finally cum, thrusting in you deep. His moans might actually be louder than yours.

He rides out his high, giving little thrusts until he's done. He carefully pulls out of you and you both collapse at the same time. Your body goes flat on the bed and he lays down beside you, both of you out of breath.

As you're trying to get your breath back he unties your hands and takes the blind fold off. It takes your eyes a minute to adjust and see anything.

Theo unlatches the leash but keeps the collar on you. "Come here," he's so out of breath but he pulls you into his arms and into his chest, kissing the top of your head.

"Theo?" you breathe heavily.

"Yes?"

"Let not have sex for a while after that," your body is basically a limp. He could throw you across the room and you wouldn't even care.

He chuckles "I'm pretty sure that's what you said a few days ago."

#smut smut smut #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp theo #i went s little hard on this one #but i couldn't help it #i got so into it that i wrote it in two hours

[lazybakerart]

I stumbled across your account while in the Billy tag. I have to say I am genuinely so happy that someone out there loves him as much as I do. I am so freaking tired of defending him and justifying my love for him. And being told it’s only because I find him attractive. It makes me want to pull all of my hair out. Keep fighting the good fight! I’m not on here a lot, but if you’d like someone to talk to about him or any character. I’m here. I’m always looking for more friends, especially Billy stans. My question for you is, which outfit of Billy’s is your favorite?

my dearest. my darling. thank you.

first up, the Honorary Mention, since it's in a bit of a grey area. billy did wear this, but it was only in a photo.

the one and only crop-top

in a show that purportedly loves the 80s, the lack of crop tops was felt, deeply, and some say may have impacted the show's realism and its commitment to deepthroating nostalgia, but we got our crumbs and if anyone was going to strut around in an itty-bitty shirt, thankfully it was billy because it could only be billy. no one else could pull it off. don’t even argue. don’t even start. you know i’m right. shh.

now, let's get into it.

TOP FIVE BILLIAM OUTFITS

#5

metalhead-tastic

we don't see billy in black all that much and i am on the floor in love with this style of shirt for him because it's such a contrast to our go-to tits-out billiam that we adore. it's a crew neck + sleeveless to show off his arms. billy is all about putting his best assets out first: tits, face, ass, and - you know it - arms. he's a metalhead and he should be in more black! but i'll take what i can get.

#4

niagara baby

the most insane outfit ever. i firmly believe he stole every bit of it from the lost & found at the pool/from his coworkers. it's bonkers. it goes against everything billy believes in style wise. a cap that covers his gorgeous hair he always makes sure is Perfection. a long sleeve shirt that covers his chest and abs AND ARMS? it is iconic. it is trucker-chic. it proves billy can wear absolutely anything and still be damn hawt.

#3 

gym rat

this shirt and his gym shorts? honey. let’s not even get into the one curl that is so exact and so perfectly captures a goldilocks curl straight out of the woods that it could have only been brought into existence with precision and purpose -  we know two things about billy hargrove: he does not fuck around with his hair or girls. back to the outfit, which is really about the shirt. i love it. once again the crew neck collar, but it’s the sleeves that bumps this outfit up the list. wide open. to show off not just his beefy arms, but to give us a peek of side-boob and those wonderful abdominal muscles. this shirt says, ‘yeah, you can look, but you ain’t getting the whole show for free.’ he wants dinner first. he wants to be romanced. he wants a guy to squeeze his bicep and say ‘wow, you’re really strong.’

#2

nice and toit

season three was a hot mess, but it did give us some A++ looks and this one cannot be overlooked. it’s simple. it’s elegant. it’s rough. this is what a metalhead who drives a camaro wears. tight white tank top and a pair of tight-tight jeans. [insert that one gif of dacre and joe talking about those jeans/dacre’s ass here] you cannot go wrong with this look. it encapsulates who billy is - the irony being, of course, technically this is not currently billy wearing it, but let’s not drown in the details, lets gag on the aesthetic - it’s summer. it’s hot. it shows off everything billy wants to show off. he’s a guy who pumps iron while smoking and drinking, he is not working out to get healthy, he’s putting on mass to get that dick. it shows off his chest. his abs. his shoulders. his arms. those jeans show off every damn thing going on down there and it is nothing but good for miles. tight shirt. tight jeans. you know it. you know.

#1

the classic

when i think of billy, well, i think of a lot of things, but that denim jacket is front and center with billy hargrove. no other character quite embraces denim like billy and this jacket is like another limb for him. the cuffed sleeves. the pack of smokes in the pocket. the kiss mark on the sleeve that gives a person ideas and thoughts not exactly pertinent to this post. the cherry on top that pushes this ensemble to number one is the unbuttoned shirt. that’s billy. that’s dacre giving us a piece of himself. it’s that slip of rebellion added to the water. a white buttoned shirt half-undone to drive the population of hawkins wild + the denim jacket and those tight-tight jeans to make sure no one who looks billy’s way will think he’s someone to mess with. he’s a bad boy. he’s trouble. he’s no good. he’s looking to get his neck chomped on. he’s strutting in jeans he can barely sit down in looking to get dicked down. the classic. the original. the best. done. perfect. god i love him.

+ ★★★★★

sexy time

billy and his date night shirt. we have the iconic tight jeans telegraphing the speed at which a man could bounce a quarter off billy’s ass + THE red shirt. this is not any ordinary red shirt. this is the red shirt billy has chosen to wear to whatever date he’s been cockblocked from attending (likely with a few boys from the football team, canon was never very specific, but the subtext tells us everything we need to know on billy’s love life - dudes and a lot of them when steve still refuses to give him his number). it’s one of the only shirts we see on him with a pattern - outside of this, it’s plain colored shirts with a variety of sleeve lengths. this is his nice shirt. this is the quality shirt. this is the shirt a guy will touch and think, yeah, he’s gonna touch billy a little more. add in that it’s barely buttoned with billy’s best assets in the spotlight - eye catching + easy access - you can’t go wrong. and neither can billy. this is his fuck-me shirt. his fight-me shirt. violence and love married in red.

#replies #billy hargrove #harringrove #this is so long omgafkjghdsf #i have many thoughts and feelings as you can see when it comes to mr billiam

[ugh-yoongi]

hello, friends 🫶🏻

just a psa/personal rant?? not really a rant but

i wanted to talk about a few things, and i think the cleanest and easiest segue is to say: i have left all of my writing networks. it is 100% nothing personal to any of them, i have enjoyed each and every one, but there are a few reasons why.

one, i am not active in any of the discord servers, so there was ✨anxiety✨ about not contributing and feeling obligated.

two (and this is the segue part): obviously these networks have a big reach, and i am feeling more and more anxious about exposing my work to the masses.

it’s a double-edged sword, because i write what i want and what makes me happy, but there is always a part of me that wants feedback and wants other people to see and enjoy it. but it has been tense here lately and the “please do not perceive me” feelings are REAL.

there is just… no nuance anymore. me posting “i don’t think it was a good decision for jungkook to go to qatar” turned into a bunch of anons calling me islamophobic and a bunch of other stuff. me saying it was a bad look for jimin to feature on a song by a r*pist turned into “you can’t have an opinion because you’re a rap line stan.”

i’m most certainly not perfect. i try to do the right thing. but tumblr has turned into a place where you will get bullied off the site if someone does not like you personally and decides you’re the internet’s villain of the day. you are put into situations you cannot win. if you defend yourself, you’re making excuses. if you don’t, you’re guilty and all those things people accused you of being are true.

it is literally this tweet:

this is not a fandom known for being welcoming of discourse, but we have to be able to give others grace. there has to be nuance. like, we are literally stanning bts, who have done and said and written problematic things. we should not excuse intentionally harmful behavior, but we need to be able to have conversations and believe, to a certain extent, that not everyone behaves in malicious ways.

we all fuck up and will continue to do so. i hope your mistakes are handled with grace and you are given the benefit of the doubt, and i hope you extend that grace when others inevitably make mistakes as well.

i am not involved in drama here. i am 31 years old and too old and tired. i just want to write and cry over seokjin and shitpost with my friends.

i’m sure this has all been said before, but: i was offline at the time everything went down with m (shout-out the fucking car accident i got in on my way to pick up my friends from the airport, why did this seemingly happen to everyone??) but they are someone i have interacted with both here and offline, and how all of that played out was fucked up, to say the least. others have explained it far more eloquently than me, but it bears repeating.

so while i love writing and i love sharing my work, there is a part of me that’s anxious every time i post. including this. i will continue to do so and hope that this site becomes warmer and more welcoming, because i see a lot of posts lamenting writers leaving or deactivating, and i just think: “well, yeah.”

enough has been said about interaction and the like/reblog ratio, which is definitely a huge part. it can be demoralizing to spend so much time and effort writing a fic that gets little interaction. but the environment is a big part, too, and i’m hopeful that can change.

(but also—protect your peace, whatever that means for you. unfollow that person. block that tag. you don’t have to engage with everything, especially if it raises your blood pressure. one of the few good things about the internet is that you’re largely able to curate your experience. don’t feel guilty about taking advantage of that.)

i will finish this by saying: i am always open to having conversations so long as they’re in good faith. it is not anyone’s place to police my behavior, but if i ever do or say something that is not cool, you are more than welcome to address it with me. i encourage you to do so. as flor once said: comfort can’t help me grow up.

love u all. pls be nice to one another. 🖤

#filed under: personal ramblings

[extremelyblackandwhite]

the price of power - 02

pairing: mob boss!sebastian stan x wife!reader

part of handmaid | masterlist

warnings: swearing, mentions of organised crime and violence, arguments

When she was younger, her fears were easily put to rest. The fear of the dark was soothed with a night light in the shape of a teddy bear, the fear of the dentist was solved with a lolly at the end of the appointment, and the fear of growing up was solved as the years progressed. Childhood fears just seemed so small now that she was older and as she looked down at her son who was peacefully sleeping in her arms, she hoped all his fears were small for hers were no longer easily scared off with light and sweets. She knew what came with the job, she knew there was always the possibility of people getting hurt but she never thought about her dad getting hurt. She worried about Sebastian, he was reckless and ruthless in his “business” having no care for what could come his way. He didn’t really fear it so he welcomed any and all possibilities. Her father was calculative, he played it safe so that he was safe. She guessed she had never seen it get bad, she’d never witnessed the frenzied environment so she never thought she’d hear her husband say he’d gotten shot while at a country club in the Hamptons.

      - I’ll take him. - Sebastian sat next to her on the plane, his eyes carrying the same tired, dark bags hers did. - You need to rest, I’ll take Nate for the night. 

      - No. - she mumbled, almost like a petulant child. She felt as if she let go of her baby that she’d break down crying and she didn’t want to break down crying. Not in front of him, not again, not like she always did. 

Other wives didn’t do that. Other woman married to men on his inner circle kept a mature composure which she just couldn’t keep. Gwen had told her she was too emotional many times and she was right. How come she couldn’t put up a front? How come whenever she thought of those words “he’s been shot”, her lip would tremble and she would have to hold her son tighter to keep her from breaking apart. What kind of image was she letting on? Sebastian sighed, moving the seat divider up to he could move in closer to her.

       - Angel, there’s nothing we can go until we get there. I’ll be right here next to you with Nate. I promise I won’t leave while you sleep. 

       - No. - she said once more. - Please let me be, Sebastian. I am fine. 

       - I call bullshit, angel. - he moved the hair out of her face. - I’m your husband. For better or for worse, remember?  

       - I just ... I need to hold Nate, ok? - she softened her voice. She didn’t mean to snap at him, he didn’t deserve her snapping at him. - I’ll get some sleep when we’re there. 

       - Wanna play a game? - he stretched his arms to wrap one around her, a signature smirk gracing his features. Anyone else should always deny him, agreeing to play games with Sebastian Stan never worked in anyone’s favour. However, she was not just “anybody”. She was his wife and possibly the only person whose opinion mattered, she could easily play his game. Just not today, not right now. - C’mon, angel, amuse me. 

      - Whatever it is you’re thinking will trick me into letting go of Nate won’t work.

      - Oh so we’re playing guessing what each other is thinking? Fine. I think the reason you won’t let me take Nate is because you don’t want to cry right now. 

      - I don’t want to cr ...

      - Which is funny because it would be considered normal to cry when one’s father has just been shot. Yet here you are, so strong. - he interrupted her, his tone mockingly teasing her at the end before his face turned serious. - Your dad got shot, no one is gonna say anything if you are upset. 

      - You’re being mean. 

      - I am not being mean. - his hand intertwined with hers. - I know my wife. You see, she happens to be pretty emotional.

Y/N knew she was emotional, she was sensitive. She’d always been comfortable with her emotions yet she couldn’t, at least not as his wife. She was supposed to be strong, to be the kind of woman that was expected to be by his side. Sebastian was tough, it was hard to actually figure out what he was thinking and it was nearly impossible to see what he was feeling. She wondered how it looked when he was so confident, so strong while she was holding and hoping her young son would help her not fall apart. 

      - Said the wrong thing, didn’t I? - he looked over at her, noticing how her features had fallen. Truth was that most of the times Sebastian was unaware of what to say or even what do. - I can’t promise you your dad is gonna be okay but I can promise you no one will hurt our son. 

       - I know, I just ... I need to feel him breathing. 

       - Ok. 

He got up from his seat and Y/N slumped against hers. He’d probably given up on trying to understand her and it wasn’t his fault. She knew communication was key in a relationship but if she were to tell him the issue, he’d just say he didn’t give a fuck what others thought but she did. She didn’t want to make him look weaker by association. Yet, Sebastian returned a few minutes later carrying an airline branded blanket which he draped over her and Nate. He didn’t say anything, instead seating next to her, his hand finding hers. He hoped it would sooth her if he couldn’t. Her eyes focused on his for a while, tiredness weighing her lids down lulled by the sounds of the plane. 

Y/N didn’t like sleeping, there were too many memories which came back to life when she dreamed. Usually she was lucky enough to forget them as she woke up, mere bad moments which were quickly erased. However, this time she wasn’t so lucky. Once she closed her eyes, all she could see was him, Sebastian, laying down on the ground, breathlessness surrounded by a pool of blood. She wanted to scream, she wanted to help but her voice was gone and she couldn’t move. Her heart rate increased and she kept trying to move but she couldn’t move, he was dying in front of her and she was bathed in tears as she tried to help but she couldn’t reach him.

The world came back to her with a gasp as she woke up alert to all her surroundings, finding herself still sat on the plane, this time landed, with the blanket around her. She looked down to her arms, expecting to see her son to convince her that all this memories were but a mere dream, a remnant of bad times, yet he was nowhere to be found. She got up, her hand on her chest as she looked around for her son. No, no, no, no ... 

      - It’s ok, angel. - Sebastian’s hand softly wrapped around her wrist. 

      - Where’s Nate? - she refused to sit back down as the remaining of the people inside the plane were leaving. 

      - Here. - he pulled her back to her seat, nodding with his head towards the baby who was happily awake in his father’s arms. - I didn’t want him to awake you up, angel. 

She sighed, having once again lost herself in the constant fear of losing any of the left over people in her life. 

      - You’re safe. - he reassured her. - I’ll always keep you safe, angel. Remember? It’s just us. 

      - I just need to see my dad. - she looked up, attempting not to start crying. - I need to know he’s ok. 

      - I know, angel. - he kissed her temple and down to her cheek. - I know. 

(...)

She had decided it was best if Nate and Sebastian went to their New York home. Her father did not like Sebastian, he did not approve of his influence on his daughter and he didn’t approve of how he ran his business. Whenever the two were in the same room, it would always end up in a fight, a fight which a recently shot man and a sleep deprived Sebastian would end up in flames. At the same time, Nate was too young to be exposed to any of this. She didn’t want her son exposed to the mafia or any deals, not until he was old enough to make his choices. Additionally, she didn’t think it would be good for a 2 month old to witness a badly beaten man - she didn’t think it was good for her either, yet she found herself being escorted into her childhood home.

Things felt different now. Her childhood home had always brought warm memories of running down the stairs and drawing in walls of hidden places; it brought memories of lullabies and big parties and dinners. Now, she sort of felt uneasy. Lying was always easier when they asked her if she was happy with the position she held. She always said she was happy, she was proud but the truth was something completely different. This house now represented what she was to be someday, it was a real, three dimensional representation of what was expected from her. 

Her strength vanished as she stood in front of the door of her father’s bedroom. Daniel had gone first, he had always been the strongest but she remained there, gathering dust like her childhood toys in the attic, wondering if she could actually do this without crying. The sound of the door opening was the cruel reminder of what awaited her and with a tight smile, Daniel let her into the room. Her father’s room had always been tidy and bright, almost hospital looking in shades of white and grey. The once serene atmosphere was instead heavy as she spotted her dad, laying in bed with his back against the headboard. 

      - Finally someone I want to see. - his voice was heavy but not as it usually was. He sounded tired, worn out. - I was starting to wonder if your husband was gonna let you come visit. 

       - Dad. - she smiled as she held his hand. - How are you?

       - Much better now you’re here, birdie. - he took a good look at his daughter. He spoke to her almost every day but visits weren’t common. Last he saw her, she was the one in a bed, recovering from birth. - Where’s that grandson of mine?

      - Nate’s with his dad. 

      - So your husband came with you, did he? - he sucked his teeth. - Can’t be apart from you for long, can he?

      - He was worried, dad. He didn’t sleep all night and I’m sure he’ll be happy to know you’re well enough to still dislike him. 

      - I’m just happy you’re here. - he smiled. 

      - What happened? I thought you said we were safe. 

      - It’s not important anyways, birdie. We are safe, this was just a fluke. Besides, it’s gonna take much more than a few gunshots to bring me down. They’re gonna have to try harder.

      - I’d rather they not try again. - she crossed her arms. - Do you think you could slow down? Sebastian said you were in critical state when the doctors first saw you.

      - I’m sure your husband would love it if I were in critical state. - he snickered before tightening the hold on his daughter’s hand. - That husband of yours ... worrying my little girl. 

      - I’m always worried about you, dad. I don’t want to lose you.

      - And you’re not gonna lose me, birdie. I promised your mum I would take care of you, didn’t I?

      - I think mum would’ve liked it if you slowed down for once. 

      - I could be persuaded if you brought Nate over. 

      - I’ll bring him tomorrow. - she smiled. - We can have lunch together and I can show you some photos from the last few months. 

He smiled, happy merely to be surrounded by his daughter and grandson. The band around her heart had slightly loosened, allowing some sense of calm as she said her goodbyes, promising to bring Nate the next time she came around. Yet, this house ... this walls, they housed so many expectations. 

      - He needs to slow down. - Dan said as he accompanied out and into the car. - At least until he gets better. 

      - I agree. - she sighed. - But you know him. It’d be easier to move a mountain than to make him change his mind. 

      - You can change his mind. - he shrugged. - Take over him.

      - Over him? 

      - Not forever but until he feels better. I’m sure if he knew you were in charge, he’d rest. 

      - I don’t do that. - she crossed her arms. - We discussed this when I moved to France, I don’t get mixed in dad’s business and I ...

      - You’re already in dad’s business. - he interrupted her. - You’re the one expected to take over and you’re the one who brought the enemies into the home. 

      - What is that supposed to mean? 

      - Until your husband joined the family, we didn’t have enemies. We didn’t have people shooting at us and now dad’s been shot. 

      - You can’t possibly be blaming me for dad being shot. If I knew ...

      - I’m not blaming you. - he interrupted her once more. - I’m blaming your husband. Perhaps if you showed that you’re dedicated to this family and not ...

      - I’m his wife, Dan. I’m just not taking over for dad, we discussed this, for my safety, for Nate’s safety.

      - If you think they’re not gonna start shooting at your son, you’re more naive than you’re letting it on. 

////////////////////////

taglist: @buckysteveloki-me​ @sadbucksblog​

#SEBASTIAN STAN #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x Y/n #sebastian stan imagine #mob boss!sebastian stan #mob!sebastian stan

[annabrainchase]

so just because miss sansa has an emotional connection to winterfell (no matter that she kept whining about winterfell and only recognized its significance after she literally had nowhere left that could be conceived of as safe) that somehow justifies her and the starks getting winterfell back by dragging people into their battles which mister robb has been doing ever since ned got one upped by cersei and that is all well and good, but the tyrells, ellaria sand and the rest of dorne, yara and her ironborn, who do very much comprise a significant portion of westeros joining daenerys who built her own army (armies) without going around and mouthing off and guilt tripping her recently revived cousin for it and actually ended up doing more good than sansa has done in 8 seasons, in helping her reclaim the iron throne, built by her family, inside the red keep, built by her family, standing in king's landing, once again, built and expanded by her family is unacceptable? just because it's a home she never had the luxury to grow up in, she doesn't deserve to walk in the castle that is her family's legacy? fuck that. in the show, she didn't even need the north's help for it, but she did hope that they would keep their end of the bargain instead of backtracking and whining about tired soldiers because of the war against the wights in which, might i remind you, northern soldiers weren't even on the frontlines. compare that with sansa who dragged the free folk into her battles while hiding crucial information that could have saved lives. it's not even a bargain, who am i kidding? but sansa stans don't really like even show canon when it's not pandering to her. you people love to say "dany stans need to stop comparing this selfless act for which she questions herself against sansa's raging ignorance that goes unquestioned" "dany stans need to stop stepping on my xenophobic queen's perfect white toes" "dany stans need to accept that homeless orphan girl who selfishly did the bad deed of killing slavers needs to fuck off somewhere and leave westeros for pure widdle saun-sa" but.... we will point out canon because you underinformed idiots love opening your mouth and keep trying to force people to like sansa and agree with her actions. maybe you should re-examine your talking points. or not. it is always interesting to see the holes in your arguments. as well as the selective empathy common to all of you.

#daenerys targaryen #got #anti sansa stans

[hopalongfairywren]

It always annoys me how fandoms will look at people stanning, babying and woobifying (ironically or not) male characters who are literal abusers or sex pests or shit like that and fandom can generally wrap their heads around 'i am joking when i say this character has done no wrong ever and if he did it was (someone else's fault) now let me go over my 100 bazillion fluff/angst headcanons for him and how my oc fixes him or makes him worse uwu yadadyadayada' and people generally understand 'wow ok, this person likes this villain and generally wants to humanize him despite the horrible things he's done.' But if you direct that energy to a female character who's done even a fraction of what any of her fellow male peers have done ESPECIALLY if she's also a victim in her own right you get people constantly going UHMMM You know She murdered people!!! Murdering is bad! *sees post talking about how while *insert female character* did do bad things the fact that fanon handwaves or mocks whatever she did go through is pretty shitty and she is still a victim.* Suddenly it's UMM Did you forget she's a BAD person? She's bad completely evil the bad thing that happened to her thats heavily implied or confirmed in canon she's either completely lying about or she deserved it!! If you at all try and be nuanced to her or express a desire to see her have a redemption or healing arc then obviously you just missed the entire point of her character in that she's completely evil with no humanity, no nuance, no lenses for compassion- #girlboss It's just tiring man

#this is not about the fandom you think it is #but damn if it doesn't describe a whole bunch of fictional women #the wren hops