#and maybe It’s that true love trumps all or what ever but the way they frame it in the show feels weird to me

[oddly-casual]

Fiona and Cake spoilers seriously

(Something I noticed abt Betty and Simons relationship)

I love Betty and Simon’s relationship, I think their back story is so cute and romantic and all that lovely stuff don’t get me wrong.

But there’s this under tone of Betty constantly giving things up for Simon and we don’t really talk about it a lot???

Like, Betty let Simon have his moment with the artifact and the pubic, she also doesn’t go to her trip in favor of going on an expedition with Simon. Then when she goes to leave again she stays for Simon.

Even Fiona is like “you went with her on the bus?” And Simon just looks all confused like “what? No, why would I do that?” Like- hello???

Then after that she gave up her entire life and mind to get Simon back to the point where she literally says “I don’t know who I am without him anymore.” And that just sucks! Since the beginning Betty has been the one giving up the most, her mind, her own possible career, and it’s a story of love of course and it’s very sweet but it’s also a story of sacrifice.

Their love wasn’t a perfect solution, it was already sort of imbalanced when it started and I lowkey love how we see those cracks even before they’re together.

Again, I love their relationship and I think it’s sweet. I just think we should talk about Betty’s side more, especially when she tells a story of what most women do in relationships, sacrifice.

#fiona and cake spoilers #fiona and cake #simon petrikov #betty grof #It made itself really apparent in these newest episodes and I couldn’t stop thinking abt it #like Betty idolized Simon before they formally met so of course she was gonna drop everything to go on that expedition with him #but it was more after that too like she was going to leave to study in Australia but Simon stopped her #and Betty’s a grown woman she can make her own decisions #but even Betty’s friend was like ‘don’t make her miss the bus!’ because Betty had a real opportunity to do something else #and maybe It’s that true love trumps all or what ever but the way they frame it in the show feels weird to me #like Why have Fiona ask if Simon got on the bus with Betty if it wasn’t important??? #the way Simon responds feels weird too he responds like Fiona doesn’t make sense when asking that question #BUT ITS VALID Like why wouldn’t you encourage Betty to go off and maybe start her own career?? #or just go with her?? like she gave up stuff to go on your exhibition why wouldn’t you return the favor??? #and obviously Simon doesn’t do this on purpose I’m not saying he did #he didn’t guilt trip or force Betty or even ask her to give up these things to be with him Betty did all that on her own #i think it’s just interesting the way the show frames their relationship #like Betty gives up a lot to be with Simon in Fiona and Cake and in adventure time too #but she idolizes Simon and after Simon becomes IK she’s chasing after the man he used to be #meanwhile everyone learns to live with who IK is now it was just Betty who was clinging to Simon the whole way through #obviously they love each other and respect each other but I think Betty idolizing Simon didn’t just stay when they were kids #or college students or what ever it keto’s going even when the world ended and Simon became Ice King #this is was so much more than I planned on writing-

[cherienymphe]

House of Balloons

Topper Thornton x Reader

Summary: It was storming the night he told you that no man in Outer Banks will ever love you like he does

warnings: Dub-Con, stepcest, loss of virginity, jealousy, underage drinking, kook!reader, non canon ages

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

⭑

You should’ve guessed that things weren’t right the night your brother punched your very first boyfriend in the face.

Your anger over his actions was only trumped by your embarrassment. The other unsuspecting teenager had been completely blindsided, falling out cold on the floor of the party while you had been temporarily frozen with shock. No matter what excuse Topper gave that night—words slurring and pupils blown—you hadn’t wanted to hear it. Your humiliation and confusion and irritation had made you shut him out completely, only made worse by your fears coming true when you were swiftly dumped two days later.

“He was too old for you, anyway,” was his only comment on the situation.

You’d been fourteen then, and your boyfriend was the same age as him.

Your dating life after that was sparse to say the least, hardly anyone wanting to go near the girl with the overprotective brother. Nonexistent wasn’t the right word to use. After all, you still took the odd brave guy or two up on their offers, skipping class and sneaking out of your room just to have something like the same experiences your friends were having. It worked for a time.

Until they decided they wanted something with less effort and trouble, and you supposed you couldn’t blame them.

“If you’d actually been honest with me, I could’ve long told you those guys were assholes and not to waste your time.”

That was what Topper told you the night you’d finally decided to confide in him, his expression lacking anger…but only holding disappointment. You didn’t know why that bothered you more than him being mad. Maybe it was because you looked up to Topper in ways that should’ve been reserved for your father. The day he married Topper’s mother, it was like you became less in his eyes, the older man finally gaining the son he always wanted.

Topper could be a suffocating dick sometimes, but the way he cared about you was comforting.

“What did you expect from me when you literally ran my first boyfriend off?” you wondered with a roll of your eyes, applying your blush. “Sue me for wanting to have the life you did.”

You could see the blond lounged along your bed in the reflection of your mirror, his blue gaze briefly lifting from the phone in his hand. He watched you sift through the myriad of lip glosses in your drawer before finally speaking.

“Yeah, I remember him. He was an asshole who with a preference for ‘fresh meat’, an asshole I explicitly told to stay away from you,” he told you.

You paused at that, catching his gaze in the mirror, and the corner of his lips twitched when you sighed.

“You could’ve told me that,” you mumbled. “You just kept saying that he was an asshole who didn’t deserve me. Surely, you knew that was like catnip to a high school freshman, right?”

You threw him a look.

“I blamed you for months when he broke up with me.”

Topper only shrugged.

“I knew you’d thank me one day,” he smugly replied, and you bit your tongue, refusing to give him the satisfaction even though the damage was done. “Besides, I did what any good brother should do—look out for you until you’re old enough to make your own choices.”

Done with your makeup, you merely pursed your lips, staring at him through the mirror as he scrolled on his phone. The longer the silence stretched, that was when Topper finally lifted his gaze again, and you scoffed the moment his eyes met yours.

“You’re trying to pretend like you’re still not a controlling asshole, and it’s actually upsetting,” you huffed, standing. “Like I didn’t see your eyebrow twitch the other night when I told your mother I had a date.”

Before you could grab the dress at the foot of your bed, Topper beat you to it. You watched him run a hand through his blond strands, making his way to your closet as your words hung in the air.

“That’s because you don’t have the best taste in guys,” you heard him throw over his shoulder.

He was in your closet, and the sound of shuffling fabric and moving hangers reached your ears. When he came back out, there was an entirely different dress hanging off of his hand, and you could only eye it as he neared you. He slowly held it out to you, blue gaze boring into your own.

“Your graduation dress looks better on you,” was his only comment.

You eyed it again, silently—and reluctantly—agreeing. You were slow to take it, met with the very smirk you didn’t want to see, and Topper’s voice carried into the bathroom as you shut the door behind you.

“Still, you’re eighteen, now, and I have to let you do what you want,” you rolled your eyes at his remark. “Even if what you want are lower-class Pogues who can’t even afford to take you on a proper date.”

Your dress wasn’t even zipped all the way when you swung the door open, face pinched as you glared at the other man. Topper was leaning against the wall next to the bathroom, and the lack of humor on his face told you that wasn’t a joke. You told yourself that this wasn’t surprising, very much aware of how classist your brother could be, but it didn’t do anything to lessen your anger.

“Could you be any more of a snob? His family doesn’t have a vacation house and a two-car garage, so now he’s low class?” you scoffed.

Topper tilted his head at you, an expression on his face that begged you to be serious.

“He’s not even picking you up. You’re meeting him at the beach. You call it romantic, I call it cheap and lazy,” he elaborated, straightening and invading your personal space.

You clenched your teeth when he reached out to gently touch your arms, forcing you to turn around without a word. One of his hands lightly touched your hip, holding the dress in place while his other pulled on the zipper. You could feel his cool breath against your neck, and you were unsurprised when another nagging comment met your ears.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to be the asshole you think I am if you actually picked men worthy of your time,” he whispered.

When you looked at him over your shoulder, Topper merely shrugged, his expression telling you that he wasn’t happy about it, but he wasn’t going to stop you. Again, there was that disappointment flitting across his features, and it unfortunately had you second guessing things. Some part of you knew that Topper was right, but his quick dismissal of your potential boyfriend made your stubbornness rear its ugly head.

“Don’t wait up for me,” was all you told him as you grabbed your purse.

The only response you got was a slight snort, but Topper said nothing otherwise, both of you knowing that despite what you requested, he was absolutely going to.

The night Topper kissed you, you were drunk out of your mind.

That potential boyfriend became an official boyfriend who turned out to be a piece of shit. Your breakup coincided with some silly party your parents were throwing, Topper being your only age mate on the whole property, so it was only natural that you found yourselves on the back deck that connected to his bedroom. It was dimly lit and hidden away from any curious gazes that might be in the yard below.

“Can you just…not say I told you so?” you mumbled, finger tapping against the glass in your hand. “It’s bad enough that I told the whole family to account for him being here tonight.”

When Topper reached over to steal your drink, fingers grazing yours as he did, you let him.

“You know that’s not my thing,” he said, voice low. “Besides, it’s not like it’d do any good.”

You couldn’t hold in your soft chuckle, louder laughs in the yard overpowering yours, but theirs lacked your bitterness.

You didn’t even know why this breakup bothered you so much. The whole relationship lasted a month, but that did nothing to soften the blow. You’d dived head first into the relationship—as you always did—and so those thirty days just felt like ninety in your mind. You’d been hopeful, excited, and you recalled something a friend said once…about so much of the relationship happening in your head.

You were reluctant to admit that she’d been right.

Not unlike before, you’d made up so much of his personality. You’d given him attributes and an entire personality that didn’t align with reality, and that was why you felt blindsided. Looking back, there was nothing about him that told you he was a patient and loving and understanding guy, so was it really a shock when broke up with you? It’d been a month, and you weren’t ready to have sex with him, and so he responded in a way that guys like him usually did.

Anyone could’ve seen that coming, and yet…

“What’s wrong with me?”

You almost didn’t realize you’d said that, the words coming out in a small whisper before you could swallow them down. You liked to think it was the alcohol talking, but you knew that the brown liquor you’d snuck away was only just making you more honest. You were entertaining thoughts you normally preferred to ignore and shove down.

“Hey…”

Topper’s tone told you that he’d heard you loud and clear, and you only shook your head when his hand gently touched your arm.

“I mean…” you shrugged, throwing a hand out. “Am I not good enough to actually get to know?”

Topper said your name, and you heard him sit the drink down.

“If I don’t put out, am I just…not worth the effort?”

His voice was firmer this time when he said your name, and you hadn’t realized that he moved closer until his hands were on your arms and making you face him. There was a frown on his face as he eyed you, that blue gaze of his tracing your features.

“Stop letting these assholes get to you,” he told you. “You’re better than every single one of them.”

His advice was easier said than done, and so you didn’t respond, only frowning back at him before your eyes fell to the wood, tracing the lines in it.

“You have to say that, Topper,” you sighed. “It doesn’t exactly hit the same coming from you.”

You heard him release a heavy sigh too, his hands coming up to frame your face. When you were forced to look at him again, there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t name. Topper’s blond hair wasn’t in its normal neat state, the light strands kissing his forehead as he ran his gaze over your face. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and so you were relieved when he voiced his thoughts.

“I’m saying it because it’s true…because I don’t actually have to say anything,” he continued, an edge to his voice. “I don’t have to tell you that I think you’re an insecure little girl who dates losers because you don’t have your father’s approval.”

You flinched at that, frown deepening.

“I don’t have to tell you that it pisses me off that you just don’t learn,” he bit out, and you hated how much his words stung.

…because they were true.

“You go after these guys who shouldn’t even have the confidence to approach you, and what kills me is that every time they break your heart, you go out prepared to repeat the process-.”

“Jesus, Topper!” you slapped one of his hands away. “What the hell?”

You sat up straight, tearfully glowering at him. The other guy didn’t look all that sorry, and you angrily wiped your face with a scoff.

“Is this your idea of comforting me?” you choked out.

The blond briefly looked away, and he at least had the sense to have some shame, a sheepish glint passing through his eyes. You watched him swallow, jaw clenching as he seemed to be choosing his next words carefully.

“You could just do so much better,” he finally said, tone thick with disappointment. “…and you choose not to.”

You bristled at his words.

“Let you tell it, no guy is good enough for me, so you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t take your critique to heart,” you spat.

“No guy is good enough for you.”

Topper wasn’t looking at you, but instead was staring straight ahead, one arm resting on a bent knee. The sounds of the party still provided some background noise, but you weren’t focused on that. You were more focused on the tightness in your brother’s jaw, a coldness in his blue eyes that wasn’t unfamiliar to you. Of all his friends, Topper was considered the nice one—the respectable one—but you were probably one of the few people who knew just how nasty he could be.

It was something that only one other person was able to bring out in him.

So…you didn’t know why you said it.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

You were trying to get under his skin…but you didn’t know that you were already there.

“Maybe I am…”

Topper’s tone was even, devoid of all humor, and he slowly turned to look at you.

His response took you by surprise, and your lips parted, prepared to jokingly tell him to shut up when his expression gave you pause. There was no mirthful twinkle in his eye, not even a mocking or condescending glint that told you he was playing along and trying to bother you just as much.

Topper was serious.

“Maybe I am jealous,” he continued, shifting to fully face you, now. “So, now what?”

You frowned at him, blinking a few times as your mouth opened and closed. You were all too aware of your heart in your chest…among other things. Like the fact that you two were alone and Topper was really close, and you’d had way too much to drink. The party downstairs felt so far away, and you briefly squeezed your eyes shut.

No, you and Topper didn’t share blood, but this revelation you were slowly coming to terms with unsettled you beyond belief. Topper couldn’t be jealous…not of your exes…because that implied that… You shook your head, looking away and having the strong urge to lie down.

“Do you know what it’s like? To know you give asshole after asshole a chance, and there’s nothing I can do about it?”

“Yeah, because-!”

“I know what I am, Y/N,” he cut you off. “You don’t have to remind me.”

He bitterly mumbled that last part, and you finally looked at him again.

“Topper…you can’t be jealous of my exes,” you slowly told him, the words coming out in a whisper like you were afraid to say it out loud.

You were all too aware of just how close he’d gotten, and it was hard to focus on anything else. You wanted to leave—needed to leave—but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You watched his blue eyes flit over your face, studying you and drinking you in, and you sharply inhaled when you saw his hand lifting out of the corner of your eye.

“Well, that’s too bad,” he quietly responded, hand coming up to take hold of your jaw.

You pushed against his arm—and chest—but the blond wouldn’t budge, and a bout of panic took hold of you.

“Topper-!”

The rest of your words were swallowed and forgotten, his lips moving against yours in a kiss. It—in combination with the alcohol—made your head spin, and you gasped against his lips. He took the opportunity to taste the inside of your mouth, moving closer and pressing his chest to yours. One hand against his chest and one against his arm didn’t deter him, and you jumped when an arm tightly snaked around your waist.

You were practically forced into Topper’s lap, and the more he kissed you, the more you forgot about the party downstairs.

The alcohol made it hard to focus on what was important, your brain getting distracted and becoming preoccupied with the taste of alcohol on his tongue. You were hyperaware of his hand pressing into your waist and the way his other hand was so warm against your jaw, his thumb tracing patterns into your skin. The ministrations had your body heating up, and although you knew why you needed to stop, you couldn’t work your limbs to try harder to.

Your head fell back when Topper’s lips traveled to your throat, and he let your face go, fingers dancing down your frame.

When they found comfort on your thigh, your dress riding up in the commotion, you shuddered. They felt so hot against your skin, and the heat traveled all the way to your stomach, settling deeply there. Without thinking, you parted your thighs a bit, and you felt Topper hum against your throat. The sound was soon followed by his hand disappearing between your legs, and you involuntarily bucked your hips closer.

You were shocked at how easy it was for him to push a finger into you. It dragged a breathy yelp from your lips, your hand coming up to grab onto his shoulder when he added another. You spread your legs more, hips lifting, and you heard Topper curse as he sank his fingers into you. You couldn’t stop moaning, the alcohol making you lose all sense of caution, so you weren’t shocked when he kissed you again.

“Topper,” you gasped against his mouth.

It was wrong, and you remembered why it was wrong…but you couldn’t stop. Before where you’d been trying to push him away, you were now pulling him closer, lifting your hips to meet every curve of his fingers and toes curling against the wood of the balcony. You were dripping around him, now, something that would’ve embarrassed you had you been in your right mind, but at the moment, you only wanted to come.

When you did, he let your waist go to cover your mouth.

You couldn’t stop murmuring and mewling into the palm of his hand, his other hand still pushing fingers into you and circling your bundle of nerves with his thumb. Stars danced in your vision, and you felt the blond lean in and press kisses against your throat and collarbone. You were still trembling when you started to frown, all too aware of his fingers inside of you as you wondered what you’d just done.

You ignored the heat of familiar gazes as you grabbed your things, wanting to be literally anywhere else.

Hitting a few balls with Rafe turned into hitting a few with Kelce and Rafe and then eventually Topper and Kelce and Rafe. The arrival of your brother had triggered a drastic mood shift, and as much as you’d tried to hide it, you didn’t think you were doing a good job. Especially once the gathering was moved inside to get something to eat. Unable to pretend anymore, you feigned an illness.

“Y/N, at least let me drive you…”

“I’d rather walk,” you told Topper, avoiding his eye and declining his offer.

There was no doubt in your mind that the other two picked up on the tension, confirmed when Rafe’s voice carried as you exited the building.

“Geez,” he’d exhaled. “What’s going on with you two?”

The question still lingered in your mind all the way back home.

What’s going on with you two… How loaded that answer was, and you yourself couldn’t even convey it fully. Memories of the party had plagued your mind for weeks, now, and despite how you should feel about it, you were learning that it wasn’t so simple. Your stomach flipped for multiple reasons as you recalled the feeling of Topper’s hands on you.

The entire ordeal was beyond dubious, your head in the toilet later that night only proof of how much you’d had to drink. Finding out that your brother thought of you in ways a brother shouldn’t should’ve gone in a whole other direction. The lack of blood relation did little to lessen your uneasiness and guilt, chest aching uncomfortably at the memory of his fingers inside of you.

Your parents were married, had been for eight years, now.

You were well and fully settled in as a family unit at this point…and yet…

That did nothing to lessen the heat deep in your gut when you thought about Topper kissing you and touching you in ways no one ever had before. It was something that kept you up at night, and on particularly bad nights, you found your own hand drifting between your legs to try and replicate the same feelings he’d pulled from you under the cover of darkness while your parents had been none the wiser.

To say that things were awkward and messed up was an understatement.

You were angry with him…but you couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was a source of great conflict for you, and unsure of how to act around the one person you’d trusted the most, you simply opted with ignoring him and avoiding him as best as you could. Not only was this noticeable to any and everyone you knew—your combined presence a normality—but it also pissed Topper off.

Very much.

“You can’t ignore me forever.”

Those were the words that greeted you a few days later as you washed dishes. His mother was out, and your father was upstairs in his study, and despite the fact that you very much wanted to do what he said you couldn’t, you acknowledged him, anyway.

“I can try…”

When he said your name, it was softly spoken, but you weren’t oblivious to the edge in his voice.

“Can we talk for a sec…” he suggested. “I mean, like, a real conversation.”

“I don’t have anything to say to you-.”

“That’s a lie, and you know it,” he breathed, his hand coming up to rest on your arm. “You have a lot to say to me, and I don’t care if you just want to curse me out because you’ve never held back before.”

Roughly dropping a plate back into the water, you took a deep breath. Facing Topper, you really looked at him for the first time in weeks. You hated that despite the circumstances of what happened that night, he looked different to you…less like a brother… Such a thought made you briefly close your eyes, and when you opened them again, you were angry again.

“What is wrong with you?” you breathlessly wondered.

Your tone had his jaw clenching, and you watched him look away. You didn’t pull your gaze away as he pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, and when he looked at you again, you were surprised to find a hint of anger in his blue eyes.

“You’re treating me like…like I’m some kind of pervert,” he whispered.

Your heart did clench at that, and you couldn’t pretend to ignore how that accusation made you feel. You were closer to Topper than you were to anyone else, and despite your anger, you still loved him—cared about him. No, you didn’t think that, but the circumstances of that night—and the circumstances surrounding this entire situation—were messing with your head.

“…and instead of like the guy who has always cared about you.”

You swallowed.

“I fucked up that night,” he admitted to you. “I messed up, and I can see that it’s freaked you out, and I’m sorry.”

Your eyes burned at his apology, and even though some part of you wanted something else just as much, you knew that an apology was what you should want more than anything. That night had to be a one-off thing, something to never be repeated. If you wanted to keep your sanity and have things go back to normal, you had to forget about it, and you had to convince Topper to do the same.

“Topper, we can’t…we can’t do anything like that ever again,” you whispered, and you watched his face even out. “I can’t tell you how to feel…”

The blond nodded, swiping his tongue between his lips.

“…but I’m telling you that I need things to go back to normal…”

Topper’s shoulders sagged at that, and you struggled to swallow.

“You’re the one person that I can talk to about almost anything…and the one person I know I can count on, and… I’m feeling really unsure about that, right now, and I don’t like that, and it’s scary…”

You trailed off when Topper wrapped his arms around you, gently shushing you.

“I’m sorry,” he quietly apologized again. “I’m sorry, and you’re right.”

He pressed his face into the crook of your neck, and you shuddered when his lips grazed your skin as he spoke.

“I was being a selfish asshole that night,” he whispered. “Obviously this can’t be anything else.”

His hands moved up and down your back in soothing gestures, and while it was reminiscent of something he always did to calm you, you couldn’t help but let your mind wonder about what other meaning it might’ve always had. Telling yourself that Topper cared more about what you wanted instead of chasing the high of an alcohol fueled night, you hugged him back, accepting his apology.

It was storming the night you lost your virginity to your stepbrother.

The loud rain and harsh winds and booming thunder all seemed to work together to drown out the sounds of your breathless moans and surprised gasps. Topper’s forearms were pressed into the pillow on either side of your head as he snapped his hips against yours, the mix of pain and pleasure jumbling your brain. With the power out, the only source of light came from the occasional flash of lightning.

A late-night conversation had dwindled down into nothing the longer the night dragged on. Dozing off at his side wasn’t abnormal, your descent into fatigue made all the more quicker when accompanied by the sound of rain hitting the window. Despite your brief rough patch after that night, you and Topper started treating each other like you always had. It wasn’t without difficulty. After all, there were nights where you still woke up with the memory of his lips touching yours, but it was easy enough to ignore…

Waking up to the feel of an arm around your waist and a hardness against your thigh was not.

You feigned sleep, unsure of what to do or how to proceed and even unsure if Topper was awake and wholly aware. The wind knocked the shutters against the window, and the room was briefly illuminated by a flash of lightning. The thunder and rain were all you could hear, even deaf to your own breathing, but especially Topper’s. However, when you turned your head, you learned that the blond was very much awake.

You didn’t have time to properly gather your thoughts about the kiss, Topper pulling you against him and rolling on top of you before you could. Your mind had been going a mile a minute to make sense of what was happening, and by the time you did, it was too late—his bare chest was pressing against yours and his arms were caging you in.

“Oh my God,” you’d breathed the moment he pushed his cock into you.

The words had escaped from both the shock and the pain, repeating them as you also registered the way your stomach flipped.

“It’s okay,” he whispered in the darkness, a miracle that you could hear him. “You’re okay.”

Were you?

“Topper,” you’d murmured, your tone making your thoughts clear.

“I fucking love you,” was his defense. “Don’t you get that?”

He remained still inside of you for some time, both of you quietly going back and forth.

“We can’t do this,” you’d hissed.

“You saying we can’t isn’t the same as you saying you don’t want to…”

It was the truth, and you weren’t going to lie, but you could only manage to shake your head.

When he started to move, you gasped, somehow getting used to the feel of him in the time you argued. Feeling him pull out before pushing his way back into you had your back arching, absentmindedly lifting your hips. Every reason as to why you shouldn’t do this became less and less important the longer he fucked you. Your nails clawed at his skin, and Topper hissed at the feeling.

He nipped at your neck, teeth gently pulling at the skin while he plunged his cock into you. You felt so full and so stretched in a way that your fingers—nor his—could compare to. All that was left of the pain was a dull ache, even that becoming overshadowed by the pleasure his thrusts brought to you. You were thankful for the storm, sure you wouldn’t even be able to keep quiet if you tried.

“None of those assholes loved you,” he panted against your lips, fingers twisting into the hair at the nape of your neck. “None of them will ever love you like I do.”

Your fingers pressed into his arm and back, breath hitching at a particularly hard thrust.

When he kissed you, just like that night, you kissed him back. Only this time, you weren’t drunk. You were perfectly sober, and you moaned against his lips at the feel of his cock sinking into you. This was the wettest you’d ever been, dripping around him and making a mess of his sheets, no doubt. His hair was damp with sweat, the soft strands pressing against your forehead, and his skin fared no better. Your hands slid over him with ease, a thin layer of sweat coating both of your frames.

Topper was still fucking you when the thunder stopped, and the rain slackened. It was still dark, but you found yourself biting your lip in an effort to not give yourselves away. You found it difficult, the blonde’s cock hitting something inside of you that made you shudder and clench down onto him. When his hands trailed down to grab onto your waist, his fingers dug into your skin as he lifted your hips for you.

You could just make him out in the darkness, his gaze holding yours as you held onto him and fluttered around his cock. You could feel him push himself to his knees, and you dazedly reached down to cover his hands with your own. He stroked something inside of you that pushed you closer and closer to the edge, and the moment you fell over, you sank your teeth into your lip so hard that you tasted blood.

Your vision momentarily went completely dark, only able to focus on the feel of you tightening around Topper. You took note of his hands on your waist, your hands on his, the movement of the bed and the soft rain outside. As your breathing slowed, you also noticed the sloppiness of his thrusts, and your vision refocused just as the blond pulled out.

His sigh reached your ears as he came onto your stomach.

Aside from the rain, the only sound in the room was that of your soft and labored breathing. You were equally awed and shocked, almost feeling like you’d just had an out of body experience. You were trembling, but not just because you were cold, and sensing this, Topper wrapped his arms around you.

“Topper…”

Your tone was unsure, too many emotions fighting for dominance as you marinated in the aftermath of what just happened. His chest was to your back—heart still racing—and his only response was a quiet ‘tomorrow’. The hand that wasn’t resting on your stomach found a home on the front of your throat, and Topper softly repeated himself when he pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

#dark!topper thornton #dark!topper thornton x reader #topper thornton #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton imagine #topper thornton fanfiction #obx #outer banks #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks fanfiction

[theabigailthorn]

Surely with how popular you are you would have had a few cancelling attempts, but you're drama free. How? I thought you'd be target number 1 with TERFs.

So the thing is, people on the internet have and do try to wreck my life! But it's true that I get less of it than a lot of other women, and I often ask myself (and them) this same question. I think it comes down to a few factors. In no particular order:

I'm white and thin

I don't post selfies very often

The Philosophy Tube Jutsu: I never use my platform to say anything bad about individuals, so I don't make enemies

I'm British

I don't put my pronouns or the word 'trans' in my bio. I mention it if it it's relevant but to a casual troll looking for someone to go after there are more obvious targets

My brand: in terms of online content, my brand is 'Educational and Compassionate.' I try to be even-handed and listen to all sides and never be angry, and people are maybe a bit reluctant to get mad at someone who does that? In terms of acting, my brand right now is 'I'm Trying Hard and I'm On My Way Up!' which I guess people like?

I have a posh accent

I don't make online content about video games

I'm pretty enough that men like looking at me but not so hot it makes them angry

I transitioned in private before I came out publicly. I knew that when I did I'd get a lot of backlash, so I pre-emptively muted LOADS of words in my comments section and wove a kind of digital safety net

I'm so busy that I often miss whatever the discourse du jour is and don't get involved. As a wise woman once said, 'Do Not Tweet.'

I deliberately dress and present myself as 'classy' in public-facing stuff

Most of my content is scripted, so by default it attracts people who like to sit down and listen

Philosophy Tube is literally all about critical thinking and not taking things at face value. So if a typical Philosophy Tube Subscriber sees a post that says 'I saw Abigail Thorn kicking a puppy down the street!' they're more likely to stop and think, 'What's the evidence for this?' This means that when there are hate campaigns and lies spread about me (and there are, from time to time) my core audience sees through it and sticks around

I have very good mods! Big shout out to all the lovely people on r/philosophytube and all the people who moderate my livestream chats!

I have a social media manager who can look out for hate and pre-emptively guard against it

I don't hitch my brand to other people. I sometimes do little collabs or appear at events with other creators but for the most part I fly solo. That means if another creator blows up or posts something awful I minimise my chances of cancellation-by-association. I'm friends with lots of creators but for the most part I keep it behind the scenes (Learned this one the hard way!)

I'm not a sex worker. Those people get hate like you wouldn't believe - the sex workers I know are the toughest folks I've ever met!

I'm not very fun to bully! I do get death threats and hate campaigns and people make fake porn of me and libel me and all that stuff - literally every day - I just never talk about it publicly so trolls don't get the satisfaction of seeing me get upset. I just mute and block and move on silently. When I have to talk to a lawyer or the police about someone causing a problem, I handle it behind the scenes

Platform size. When TERFs in British media go after someone they tend to pick on people smaller than them, cause they're bullies.

I built my platform slowly, so I've had time to adjust and get used to how it impacts my life

People have tried to cancel me in the past and it's blown up in their faces, e.g. the Trump Transition Tweet Incident and the B*ck A*gel Affair.

To be absolutely clear, a LOT of this is luck and privilege. I'm not trying to blame the victims of online harassment: yes, some of these factors are things I choose to do but not everyone is able to make those choices. It's also the unwinnable game of respectability politics: yes I might get less hate because of the way I dress or whatever, but fundamentally that won't protect me if I get arrested and sent to a men's prison. These things aren't a substitute for a more just distribution of power. There's also this final possible factor:

It just hasn't happened yet.

#The Jutsu #Do Not Tweet #And Still the Brand Endures

[sophaeros]

golden trunks theory but i've forgotten how to do literary analysis:

so i think much like a lot of tbhc golden trunks is about a juxtaposition between intimacy/desire and the facade u have to put up as a public figure

like the opening verse/chorus are so starkly plain in the mental image they describe. it's just a simple portrait of an intimate night falling asleep together, and theres a very secretive tone created by the words "whispered" "admit". so from the get go we know immediately that it's about "true love" → romantic connotations, and this true love is associated w the night ie secrecy

this is a stark contrast to the second verse and bridge but esp the bridge where he plainly says "in the daytime". usually the day and light are associated w truth and revealing things but here he uses the daytime to talk about "a fresh new pack of lies", in contrast to the nighttime's "true love". the fact that the bridge is about being a celebrity and contending with lying for the sake of public relations is made very clear w how he says "bendable figures" → public figures who just bend/conform to the narrative crafted by pr managers, and most obviously w the use of the word "publicise". in an interview w la times hes asked if he enjoys being a pop star (w all the pressure and attention that entails) and he says "i have very little basis for comparison. the band has been going on for a larger fraction of my lifetime than it hasn’t." so as a very private person even leaving conspiracy theories about sexuality aside hes obv familiar w trying to keep the details of his relationships out of the spotlight. + this idea of the nighttime being the time for truth has been used before in diwk so it's a consistent theme

lots of people say the song about politics bc of the second verse cuz they say it's about (eugh) donald trump but i feel like thats a very surface reading. it's very out of place to me for him to have this randomass political commentary in a love song that he never brings up ever again which is why i dont think it's actually political commentary (or well, not Just, the pitchfork interview shows that is Is aware of politics obv it's just not the Point) it's just another angle to illustrate the idea of a public facing facade. he states in an interview that he thought of the wwf, which has given us the very interesting concept of kayfabe: the fact or convention of presenting staged performances as genuine or authentic. the public persona, like a wrestler w a dramatic theme song, is larger than life, rehearsed, beloved and famous, and also very much fake. 

this next part i said entirely as a joke making shit up while talking to my mutuals but then i was like wait maybe i was cooking. we're getting into more speculative rpf territory here but essentially i thought it was very interesting how he specifies that this is "the closest thing to a love song on this record", and also that the character it's centred around is one that he "made". many of his past love songs everyone knows are about his real actual love interests (eg shes thunderstorms was about alexa. alexa was a tv presenter) and now here's this song that is about simple, straightforward admittance of desire towards someone that doesnt exist. summed up in my og message to my mutuals, "hes singing to the amalgamation of his lovers an imaginary ideal to whom he can be simple and honest with in a way he can't quite bring himself to be in real life". i honestly feel like this gels well with the ultracheese's last two lines; a vague admission of guilt, of complicated feelings, vs capitulating to honesty and tiring of lying for the sake of pr ("i'm sure you've heard about enough"). + i find it interesting that golden trunks is that only tbhc song that has never been performed live

++ this idea of duplicity and lying has come up a lot in his discography but in tbhc specifically the bside anyways has the line "what a place for both the opposite sides / of my double life to finally collide"

and finally. the absolute funniest part of golden trunks.

Let me set the scene: sometime between Axl Rose getting braids (2002) and People Just Do Nothing jumping the shark (right now), those brothers in melodic yarns Turner and Kane, plus “another human being” – let’s call her “The Girl”, shall we, to save her poor mother’s heart condition? – are intertwined among the postcoital flotsam of an upmarket hotel room. “Hey, I’m glad you came,” Turner is alleged to have said, forever on the right side of etiquette and politeness in such matters. While Kane, in his sludgy Scouser lilt acknowledged, “Ah, thanks, man.” At which point Turner sat bolt upright in his sparkly gold briefs (unconfirmed) to stress who, in fact, his grateful aside was aimed at: “Not you, you wally. Her!”

sauces: - quotes curated by genius - la times - gq magazine / tumblr post

#my content #arctic monkeys #alex turner #arctic monkeys analysis #literally copy pasted this from my ramble to my irl i feel like i keep repeating myself but also not elaborating enough sorry 🥰🙏 #m just bored

[hello-nichya-here]

Why do you say Ted is worse than Ross

Because he is - and I say this as someone whose least favorite character of the main six in Friends is Ross because the dude can piss me off A LOT.

Ross is selfish, whinny, spoiled, obsessive and immature like Ted. But the writers of Friends were far more self-aware than the writers of How I Met Your Mother - mainly because they were not using Ross as a self-insert, and would not use Twitter to say shit like "If you ship Rachel with Joey instead of with Ross, you're the reason people like Trump get elected and destroy nations." No, I am not kidding, that actually happened.

Ted CONSTANTLY acts like a creep and the show treats it as fully romantic, and if a woman (mainly Robin) is turned off by it, the show tries to spin it as "She's afraid of commitment" or some bullshit. When Ross is getting possessive over Rachel the show actually allows her to call him out and she doesn't always run straight to his arms - not to mention, she can act just as unreasonable and entitled, meanwhile the most Robin does is say "Maybe, someday, if we're both single and miserable and no one else wants either of us, I'd consider marrying you."

Even Ross's most absurd moments get a bit more of pass because they're (usually) meant to:

1 - Show that the character is flawed (Him constantly getting paranoid that Rachel is gonna cheat on him with her co-worker is meant to show he's insecure, jealous, possessive AND doesn't listen when she repeatedly says she loves HIM, not this other dude - though the writers do still want the audience to root for him and Rachel to find a way to make it work)

2 - Make a joke about how he's kind of insane (see him not telling Rachel they're still married because he can't have another failed marriage - a situation in which NO ONE in the cast makes excuse for him, and we even have Chandler rightfully saying "At point did you think this was a successful marriage?")

Meanwhile the writers of HIMYM did things like:

1 - Say Ted breaking up with a girl on her birthday, through an answering machine that all the guests in her surprise party heard before she did, finding her years later, winning her back, then breaking up with her on her birthday AGAIN is totally just what was meant to be because "Well, she found true love later"

2 - Have him use "It was past 2am" as an excuse to cheat on his girlfriend/lie to Robin about being single to sleep with her.

3 - Make him have an emotional affair with a married woman that then left her husband (who thought of Ted as friend) for him, accept getting back together with his ex that was engaged and then left the groom at the altar, and make a move on his ex that was engaged to one of his best friends on the weekend on their wedding.

4 - HAVE TED TELL HIS KIDS HE WANTS TO TELL A STORY ABOUT HOW HE MET THEIR DEAD MOTHER, BUT IT'S ACTUALLY ABOUT HOW HE ALWAYS LOVED A DIFFERENT WOMAN THAT HE WAS STILL OBSESSED WITH AFTER 25 YEARS.

Not to mention, even the stuff in Friends that genuinely did not age well at all and that the writers weren't self-aware about in any way have a bigger excuse than the stuff HIMYM did because Friends started in 1994 and ended in 2004, yet HIMYM was on the same level, if not worse, and it started in 2005 and ended in 2014. There's a reason audiences tolerated Ross's shenanigans way more than they tolerated Ted's - Friends was a product of it's times, HIMYM felt behind it's time. Ross feels like a typical character you'd see in the 90's, Ted feels like the hero of every "Nice Guy" that is actually not nice at all.

Plus, Ross had much better chemistry with Rachel than Ted ever did with Robin (or literally any love interest except the Mother) and the series made sure to never give us an alternative pairing that was much better than the planned one like HIMYM did with Barney and Robin (and I say this as someone that ships Joey and Rachel). And while Josh Radnor made the rare good scene of Ted feel great, David Schiwimmer, and the entire cast of Friends really, made mediocre or downright bad scenes enjoyable or at least tolerable. The only one in the HIMYM cast with the same talent was Neil, who was playing the character that we were not supposed to actually want to see get the girl, which just made it even easier for audiences to root for Barney, not Ted.

It's just a perfect storm of different factors that makes a character like Ross getting a happy ending after all the shit he pulled MUCH easier to accept than when that happens to a Ted type, hence the finale of Friends still being incredibly beloved by nearly everyone, while HIMYM's ending was absolutely hated to the point that it shelved the planned spin off and put the showrunner's careers in limbo for nearly a decade.

#asks #ross geller #fuck ted mosby #friends #himym #worst finale ever #anti ted x robin

[sethcertified]

「 GREEN IS THE COLOR ! 」 . . . 📁 [name’s] version

the outsiders : dallas winston

wrd count : 1.3k

⊹˚.⋆ synopsis . . . [name] gets jealous when he witnesses dally flirting with a pretty, redhead girl

⊹˚.⋆ starring . . . dallas winston & male reader

Dallas Winston was a flirt. That was an undeniable fact. I was aware of this fact when we started dating. Maybe going along with him despite knowing this made me stupid. Maybe it just meant I was in love. Maybe it meant both.

I had seen him run his mouth before to all types of girls; greasers and socs and hoods alike, but I never had any fears of him cheating on me.

Even now as he chatted up some redhead I had no fears of him cheating on me; just crippling jealousy.

She was a real pretty gal, and I could see why Dally had decided to make her his target of attraction for the night. She was practically any guy's wet dream.

Cherry was her name. Suiting with her long, silky mop of dark red hair. I had my doubts if her hair color was real with the vibrancy and youth of the color, but hearing the same wonder leave Dally's mouth in such a crude manner made me gag at even considering the thought.

My foot bounced against the ground as I remembered the scene that happened a few moments ago. More specifically I remembered the words he uttered to her.

"Are you a real redhead?

But that was just the start of it. The way he got close to her as he spoke was the first bubble of envy to boil up in the pit of my stomach. Even the way he drew out the words as he spoke to the gorgeous girl fueled my ever-so-growing jealousy.

I knew his charm was working on her too as the scene played before my very eyes. The way she giggled and tried to hold back the smile as he flirted with her was telling.

"How can I find out if it's your real red hair?"

His fingers twirled the said hair around, and my fingers gripped the metal seat roughly.

"Is this the same red hair that you have-" Dally pointed down at the girl's crotch before his pointed finger up to her face, "on these eyebrows, too?"

A deep frown covered my face. They looked good together. Better looking than Dally and I for sure. These thoughts were clouding my mind as second after second passed. With a shake of my head, I stood up from my seat next to Johnny and left the destination of my friends, and the soc girls entertaining them.

I wasn't sure where I was going, but | was sure it had to be far away from them. Small feelings of guilt built up in me for abandoning my brother Ponyboy, but he had Johnny to keep him company. I just couldn't bare to see the flirting fiasco between Cherry and Dally.

And that's how I got here; against a rackety, old fence while my mind danced with entanglements of Cherry and Dally. The reasonable option was for me to go home, and pass out on the couch, so I didn't have to deal with my relationship troubles, but my yearning for Dally to find me and rid me of this envy trumped my logical thinking.

The ground was rough, and the sky was painted with billions of stars. As embarrassing as it was those things were my only source of company as the hands-on my watch flew by in a circular motion. The sight of my watch was just making me feel shittier as the minutes flew by.

Standing up with a shove against the old, beat-up fence I began to tromp away from the drive in movie theater. Dally wasn't coming to be my Prince Charming and save the day no matter how long I waited for him, so what was the point in waiting any longer?

My fingers trailed across the lining of the fence dragging against my movements trying to distract me from my troublesome thoughts. All wanted was to get home as soon as possible and then cry myself to sleep.

"[Namel!"

My name? I turned in the direction of the shout with a small boost in my mood. Maybe Dally did come for me after all?

My dream was proven true as I caught sight of a sprinting denim-clad Dallas Winston. His hair flopped and flew against the wind as he dashed straight at me.

Dally's large hands held my shoulders like they were his lifeline as he caught his breath trying to soothe his aching abdomen from the run,

"What-what are you doing?"

"Walking home? Did you run the whole time trying to find me? You're sweating like a pig!"

"Only for you, sweetheart."

"Oh, please," I rolled my eyes at his cheeky words.

Dally recovered from his hunched-over position and was analyzing me with his dark, firey eyes. I didn't dare to make eye contact with him. One of the reasons I fell for the dangerous boy was his ability to read me with just a split second of eye contact. I was well aware that if he saw the look of envy in my eyes he would connect the dots in mere seconds.

"God, man. You gave me one big scare back there. How many times do we have to get it through you Curtis brothers' heads that walking alone is dangerous for guys like us!"

"Dally, please save the lecture for another time.

I'm going home no matter what. I don't care what those Socs do to me on the way."

"Don't be stupid! You saw what they did to Johnny."

We shared a hard look at the mention of Johnny's recent attack. He was jumped by a group of Socs, and since he was a total recluse only really speaking with Ponyboy or Dally.

"You're right. I'm sorry." | looked down at my feet as I anxiously awaited his response. Dally wiped the sweat off his brow, "It's fine. Just don't do it again, man. The boys and I were worried about you."

"Speaking of the boys where's Johnny and Ponyboy?"

"They left with those socs girls. Johnny told me to back off from them. Can you believe it? Johnnycakes telling me to back off!"

Did Johnny notice my departure? Johnny was pretty observant... I gave the quiet boy an internal thank you. Without him, Dally wouldn't have come to find me, "You need to give Johnny more credit, Dal. He has his moments.”

Dally stuffed his hands in his pockets as we began walling in unison. As much as I should've been upset or mad at the man; his presence was a blessing to be around.

"Yeah, he does. Johnny's a good kid, you know.

Him and Ponyboy." Dally turned to me with a smirk, "Pony gets it from you."

A small smile placed itself on my lips, "You are such a smooth talker."

Dallas interlocked our hands as he stopped our walking movements, "Johnny saw you leave earlier. Think it's why he told me to back off."

I blinked at Dally unsure of where this conversation was going. He continued, "That redhead girl? She meant nothing to me. As bullshit as it sounds coming from a guy like me, you're the only one for me. You're my boy."

"Really?"

I smiled bashfully at Dally. His usual hard demeanor was gone, and I could feel myself falling in love with him all over again. Dallas Winston was not one for apologies, yet he could push past his pride and be vulnerable with me just to give my envy a break.

"Really."

I gripped our interlocked hands tighter as I leaned in for a kiss. Our foreheads touched as our lips danced together in a slow, stubborn waltz of forgiveness and understanding.

Our breathing mingled as we pulled apart. His breath tainted mine with the taste of Coca-Cola. Cherry would never get to enjoy the taste of Dallas Winston and his Coca-Cola lips and as petty as that made me I was more than glad to embrace that fact.

✎ notes . . . yes, this is a repost. tumblr deleted my old acc >:( ﹒⟢ ˚ ⊹ 🌪 ﹒⟢ ˚ ⊹ d.v.

©️ sethcertified 2023

#☆ — sethcertified #☆ — the outsiders #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #the outsiders x male reader #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston x male reader #dally winston #dally winston x reader #dally winston x male reader #dally x reader #dally x male reader #the outsiders dally #x male reader #male reader #☆ — green is the color

[mimimilu]

i do enjoy the idea of krisnix even though i pretty much only ship them as exes (they have the divorce energy ever, it's amazing thank you capcom) because on one hand it's hilarious. i love the idea of the passive-aggression and continuous attempts to mildly inconvinience the other in the worst ways while also appearing sweet and caring towards the other because they still have to pretend. they make everyone around them miserable and it's really funny. on the other hand, they are really tragic if you think about them too deeply (and not only in a ship sense, canonically i find them to be tragic as well) after all, phoenix did believe kristoph was genuine at first, imagine how important and touching it must've been for someone who so strongly believed and fought for the people around them (his clients, his friends) even if the whole world was telling him that it was wrong to finally have someone believe in him when the world turned their backs on him. i really don't think phoenix was suspicious of kristoph from the very beginning of their relationship because a) phoenix was very vulnerable at the time. he needed someone to believe in him and b) why wouldn't he trust him? he had no reason to suspect him, after all, phoenix would have done the same thing if someone else was in his position and he had reasons to think that something was wrong. maybe it's possible that he saw himself in kristoph, a seemingly kind lawyer who believed in him when no one else would. in my opinion, the one who was probably wary of kristoph from the very beginning was trucy (don't even get me started on that because when i start talking about trucy there's no off button you can press to stop me)

yes, phoenix started suspecting him during his investigation and through the years, and it's possible that he already knew that kristoph had something to do with his disbarment by the time the events of turnabout trump happened. while it's true that he kept kristoph close to keep an eye on him, i also think he also thought he could fix him. let's not forget that phoenix found out that kristoph was capable of murder with zak's death, not before. oh my god i can't stop thinking about that, about the moment phoenix realized that kristoph was way more dangerous and rotten than he thought he was.

additionally, i think kristoph had very complicated and mixed feelings about phoenix. after all, no matter how much you hate someone, 7 years of (albeit fake) friendship is a pretty long time, and i don't see kristoph as an emotionless person incapable of caring about others, but rather as someone who did what he did in spite of his feelings towards others. he was driven by fear and that's one of the most powerful emotions, after all.

this rant started with me talking about how funny the idea of krisnix is and it ended up with me sobbing about how sad their relationship is in canon waaaah sorry but i love 2 fucked up men

#phoenix wright #kristoph gavin #aa4 #krisnix #(kinda but also not really but also kinda) #milusis

[doublerainbow-if]

How would the unclaimed RO’s react if they met their soulmate after they and the MC were in a relationship?

L is not gonna have it. Just when they're truly happy, fate has to throw them this freaking curveball. They will be straight with their supposed destined partner as whatever relationship they may have will never trump what they feel for MC. To not get ideas for breaking them up just to have the "acceptable" soulmate relationship. L choose MC as their forever and nothing will tear that away from them. The anger response is maybe not the best way to go but they don't want to give this person any wrong ideas.

B is gonna to be conflicted for a swcond. They had given up finding their "true" soulmate after finding MC. They just kind of clicked with this new person who spontaneously shown up in their life and you just felt like the person they were waiting for all their life. But this other person is the "true" one as they see the colors vividly around just like how they were told would happen but they don't feel anything for them. Not even an inkling of just simple love is in their heart at the sight. All they could think about is finally seeing MC in full color and it is beautiful.

C is honestly relieved but not for what you think. C no longer has the specter of their soulmate coming out of the blue hanging over their head anymore. It's finally done and over with. They will straight with their soulmate about their intentions with keeping their relationship with MC but would like to start being friends. They already have a true love with MC and a best friend in V but it would be great to have a platonic partner. Or soul siblings more like.

Avery is scared. Their fear and anxiety is just consuming them at the terrifying prospect that they will get separated from MC. Their family is mostly traditional and could force them to abandon MC for this complete stranger. They will sever the bond right then and there if they have to so that they won't abandon you or rather beg their soulmate to do it themselves if they are truly their soulmate. They have to understand why they couldn't just drop you for anything in the world. You were someone who turned their world upside down and made life better, you were the only soulmate they will ever need.

#double rainbow- if #ros #leandro #leandra #brendan #brenda #collin #colette #avery/suman #thanks for the ask!

[ilovepedro]

hi nini!

i’m back with another “gentle reminders” ask. it goes in line with one of my personal goals this year of trying to work on my kindness and how i show that kindness to others.

the beginning of a new year is always a bit tough for many people, for many reasons but at the scale of the fandom, i have noticed some negativity starting to spread. maybe it’s bound to happen on any social media but i always considered tumblr to be different, to be over the kind of discourse you could find on other apps. this place has been a true haven for many of us and i would like to keep it that way, so i thought, as a way to counterbalance this negativity, i could compensate with a nice message for one of the driving forces in the fandom: our dear writers.

i would like to begin by saying thank you.  thank you for dedicating your time, your energy, your love and sharing pieces of yourself with us. the fandom wouldn’t be what it is without you: just like a body needs a brain or a heart to function properly, fandoms need writers like they need others contributing. thank you for offering diversity, engaging with different tropes and characters to reach as many readers as possible. i will admit, some things proposed are not my cup of tea but i know they can be enjoyed by others, the same way some of my favorite fics wouldn’t necessarily attract others. so thank you for giving a chance to everyone to find what they enjoy, to discover, to learn, to cry, to laugh, to love and to be able to do so in an open, safe space. thank you for interacting with us as well. thank you for responding to our questions, sharing snippets when we get impatient, teasing us with your new ideas and making life a little more fun and exciting every day. and of course, thank you for doing all of this for free. for expecting so little in return when you give us so much.

now a few things i want you to remember: 

although we’re all thankful for having access to your art, your first fan should be yourself. write what you enjoy, write that self-indulgent fic, write your favorite trope, an improbable duo or crossover because you’ve always wanted to. do it for yourself. in the same way, have fun with it. writing is a hobby, it’s not your job, it’s not supposed to be a chore. so do what makes you happy. don’t worry about updating fics, about being slow, about posting too much or too little. some things might take time, some might need an hour to be posted but in the end, they all matter just the same. they’re worth being read and cherished and we will appreciate them. whether you have thousands of notes or barely a few hundreds, you have your place here. you’re still an amazing writer, you’re still an artist regardless of the stats. 

whether i've had time to binge-read your stories or just discovered you. thank you. i love you. i’m grateful for you. i see and appreciate your work. your efforts. you.  i’m sorry if you’ve ever been received with negativity but i hope this can make up for some of it.  you deserve nothing but kindness and appreciation and i hope you know how much you matter here.

sending you all my love,

anna 💗

omg sweet anna!! 😭 where do i even begin??

this is incredibly kind. despite all the discourse that’s happened lately on social media, people like you who choose to spread kindness trump all negativity.

my page being called a safe space is truly the highest praise, thank you 🥹 genuinely hope people find my blog as a safe space to be who they are, and to just be. 🫶🏼

thank you so so much for your generosity, and the gentle reminders. i’ve been down in the dumps about my writing lately, and this just boosted my confidence and motivation. 🥹

you unknowingly made my whole MONTH with your sweetness, and i just want you to know how grateful i am for you. your love and warmth is palpable, i wanna grab you and hug you through the screen! thank you for being here and for being you. 🫂

i love you, sweet girl!! 🩷

#nini responds #nini gets sappy #moots #sweet people <333 #anna tag #<333

[adulting-sucks]

Please Read

Hello and welcome to my little home away from reality here. With the recent events around the world, I just wanted to reach out to my followers and also set some ground rules for my blog.

First: Welcome to everyone who is new to me, whether it's for my fics or my gossip, I'm glad you're here.

So, I have gained a ton of new followers, so thanks for finding something you like in my little space. To start, I want to talk about racism and false allyship. I watched the Trye Nichols body cam footage, all 27 heart wrenching minutes and it brought a topic to light that always seems to find it's way back to the top when we see a tragedy such as the murder of this man.

If I could wish for one thing in the course of discussions about racism, I would wish that false allys would be easier to weed out. In my own personal experience, I have been hurt more by the people in my life who claimed to love me, who claimed they stood with me when Asians saw an uptake in hate crimes against us due to Covid than I have been by someone being openly racist. False allys ruin any possibility of allowing minority and indigenous voices to be heard and taken seriously.

False allys will say we need to discuss certain things while ignoring the actual issue. What I mean by this is it's convenient for a false ally to pop in and discuss a matter, such as the Trye Nichols murder yet will support racists. I saw this and lived through it with someone I was very close to, she was my chosen family before she started following Trump and Qanon.

I had people smiling in my face and saying they love me and support me, that the hatred and racism was awful and needed to end just for them to turn around and say vile and disgusting things about my race, Korean, during the height of Covid. I was even told that I didn't need to worry about racism because I was a "good" Asian and not Chinese. This person wasn't an actual ally or friend and would openly say that George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery and so many others deserved what happened to them, mainly because of not only their own racist rhetoric but also because the media painted many of these victims as thugs and criminals.

That being said, these are things that need to be talked about. So here, in my little nook, discussions are always welcome as long as they are respectful. My blog supports LGBTQIA+, every race and marginalized group, a woman's right to choose, healthcare for all, college for all, open and honest discussions about mental health, trauma.

This is all I ask: If you disagree with any of this and cannot be respectful in a discussion, then please unfollow me and/block me. I will not tolerate hate towards any of my posts, my stories, or my anons/followers.

I want my blog to be a safe place for anyone who needs it. I want to be able to offer someone who is struggling a place to visit when they need to work through something. My asks and messages are open to anyone who is struggling. I will lend an ear to anyone who needs someone to hear them. I want this place to become a second home to anyone who needs extra support.

Last but not least, and this is maybe the part that i really want to hammer into your heads: false allyship includes ignoring or minimizing a person's experience with hate, discrediting what they feel. When you do this, you basically tell us we don't matter, our experiences don't matter, our lives don't matter. We matter, what we have gone through matters, and no true change will ever happen until our voices are heard. We need to be better, to do better and I hope that my blog will be there to comfort, to care, to listen to someone who feels alone or scared. So welcome.

#safe space

[tuiyla]

Your thoughts on how popularity is supposed to trump all trauma, and so Quinn and Santana need to just shut up and be grateful is maybe why Promasaurus is so frustrating to me. Because it's like the writers pick and choose when popularity matters. Sometimes a desire for it deserves to be punished, sometimes it's true, heartwarming validation. Quinn is evil two years in a row for caring about it, despite both times being in a mental state where it actually makes a TON of sense for her to crave that reassurance. But then Rachel is given the honor despite zero narrative set-up for it, and we're not only expected to think it's earned because of HER "hardships" (sorry, I cannot even take her S3 arc seriously considering the writers knew full well the entire time none of it was going to matter), but we're supposed to view Santana as a bad guy for stripping her of the illusion of what it actually meant 2 seasons later. I mean, honestly, being given Prom Queen by her two ex-rivals who truly know her, could arguably be seen as MORE meaningful than just a bunch of hypothetical votes from people who just voted for her because they were already voting for her bf. But nope, NOW that validation from strangers matters and is okay to care about. But when Santana and Quinn cared in S2-3, for, quite frankly, WAY more understandable reasons? THEN it was proof of shallowness.

No no see what you don't get Anon is that when Rachel enjoys popularity and actively envies it she's Valid and it's a good thing to want and she deserves that moment of glory. When Finn caves to peer pressure because he's desperate to retain his position it's understandable really, don't be so hard on the guy he's trying his best and is really good at heart even when he doesn't lift a finger to stop bullies. When Quinn and Santana want popularity and are desperate to maintain it? Bad! Bad bad people, look how rotten they are in their single-minded pursuit. Never mind that Quinn's fall from grace is brutal and people keep reinforcing that she's only worth anything as a pretty face, and never mind that Santana's need for validation comes from a deep fear of people finding out she's queer and therefore inevitably an outsider. Never mind that both of their desires come from deeply fucked up familial backgrounds and the general need to be loved. As much as Rachel's or Finn's needs. But when they want it they're good and righteous and the people who don't like them can suck, whereas Quinntana are bad bad shallow people, ew why do you wanna be liked and accepted? Pathetic. Hope this helps!

Give me one valid reason for your double standard Glee I'm begging you. Give me one reason not to judge Finn "faggy lamp" Hudson as harshly for caving under peer pressure as you want me to judge Quinn for obsessing over Prom Queen. Give me one reason why Rachel's allowed the eternal underdog narrative where her "winning" Prom Queen is triumphant but Santana seeking validation while being a queer Latina woman in a bigoted environment that has only ever seen her as a whore, that makes her shallow. And I don't even think Glee is always judging Quinntana, for example the portrayal of the three-way gay lovers scene in Prom Queen is surprisingly sympathetic. Wait, what, it wasn't supposed to be a montage of three gays freaking out and their lovers reassuring them? Huh. Okay, anyway.

It generally is a character-based double standard. When our "baddies" want to conform to the high school social hierarchy they're weak-willed and rather pathetic, really, but the Good Underdogs are allowed simultaneous martyr and superiority complexes. And when they are validated by the mainstream? That's a sign of their awesomeness, of course. My eventual Glee magnum opus will be tearing this underdog obsession a new one because it drives me crazy how unaware this show is that all these kids and the conventionally attractive aren't any less traumatized. I mean that's just another big aspect of this.

You know who the only character above all this high school nonsense is who actually keeps their integrity even when getting the upper hand? Mercedes Jones. But idk if y'all are ready for that conversation.

On the note of Santana's big blow to Rachel during 100 being the Prom reveal, holy shit I think you really tapped into something there Anon. Obviously Santana was meant to be and succeeded in being cruel but I never vibed with people pretending that it was oh so big a deal that she told Rachel. To be clear, yeah it was a dick move but my god can you stop pretending it was the most evil thing. After the Pezberry feud dust settled, I really hope Rachel investigated what that revelation meant, exactly. Because you're so right, what means more? A bunch of random peers voting for her, for no reason really (how did she believe it was real) OR two girls who had once bullied her but learned to love and appreciate her giving up their own pursuit of this mighty title and deciding to give it to her. Rachel literally says "do you not understand what you mean to me" to Quinn JUST before the coronation happens and goes on a whole spiel about Quinn's friendship meaning the most out of anything to her. Girl. If it really meant that much to be able to form that connection then surely it should be at least just bittersweet instead of devastating that a bunch of randos didn't, in fact, randomly vote for you. It was the two girls you have endeared yourself to. And again, Santana was being a jerk and cruel on purpose and boo that sucks, whatever, jail for Santana. But it's not like Rachel didn't still come out as a winner of that situation. It's not like she was the victim of a cruel prank like Kurt and Tina at their proms.

Whatever lmao let's not digress into a whole Prom-asaurus/Pezberry feud rant. (watch "and another thing!" this later)

#this isn't anti rachel btw i think her need for love is valid #but so is quinntana's #it is anti finn though because everything i say is #glee asks #anon #the underdog of it all #have i used that tag before i should have #fapezberry

[hawthornsword]

Today on Bad Batch! (2x12):

Crosshair:

Audience:

I guess it's true that absence makes the heart grow fonder, because I was honestly prepared to completely dislike Crosshair and settle in to him being a villain, but then we have seen so little of him that I was getting antsy like, "Where is he?! What's he doing?! What's he thinking?! I need to know!" And then I squealed with delight when the episode started with him.

Nolan: exists

Me: Can we kill him?

Yay new named clone boys!!! (They are just resting safely. They are perfectly fine.) Mayday has a fuckin presence, no? (*swoons a little*) Maybe just a personal preference, but I am digging all the bearded boys. Yes. Good.

"no point carrying dead weight."

"remind me not to die on your watch."

*Crosshair realizing maybe this is why people don't like him and that maybe his batch were a lot more tolerant of his behavior than most and maybe he took that for granted, and he is desperately lonely and seeking connection and has finally realized that he is the one pushing everyone away. 😭😭😭

Oh hey, the huddling for warmth trope, that's usually used for like, romantic confession- Oh, my god I'm dying, my heart. The absolute tenderness. This may be the best huddling for warmth scene I've ever seen. Good job animators! I'm just -

Mayday protected Crosshair and treated him as a brother even though Crosshair was prickly, just like Cody did, and he's finally got it through his thick head that he doesn't belong with the empire, he belongs to the empire - he's just equipment to them - and that belonging with his brothers who actually care about him is worth so much more than than any false sense of grand purpose the empire might temporarily give him. Personal connection will always trump ideaogical bullshit.

And I suspect the thing about Crosshair is that once he commits to something, he's committed. That's it. Now that he knows the truth in his heart, nothing will stop him from acting on it. So he doesn't go subtle, like Cody slipping out in the night. He goes out guns blazing, killing that worthless empire motherfucker, because that's The Bad "when have we ever cared about orders? Batch Way.

That was so satisfying.

I am also glad we are going to pretty much immediately get back to whatever the heck is going on at Mount Tantis. Hemlock is creepy af, I love it. I really want to know what they plan to do to Crosshair tho???? They don't need him to make more clones, they're phasing them out, so what, clones are just convenient for shits-and-giggles experimentation? Like, they've got cloning down. And yeah, we know from Mandalorian/sequels Palps is trying to do Force sensitive cloning, but they don't need Crosshair for that, unless they've already got force sensitive dna and they're gonna shoot it into him to see what happens??? I somehow doubt that they'd risk a force sensitive supersoldier though, so I bet it's something else.

Predictions/wishlist for the rest of the season: I'm guessing Omega will get captured soon and then Crosshair will be like, "okay, let's bust out of this joint baby sis!" And Taun We will probably get killed helping them escape, then the Batch and Rex and Echo and Gregor will arrive, and I hope Omega (and Wrecker and Tech) will be like, "We can't leave the Zillow Beast! It's just a baby! The last of it's kind! Treated awfully just like us! (Big tooka eyes)" and Hunter will be like, "okay fine, we can rescue the beast." And Crosshair and Echo and Rex especially will be like, "wtf, force preserve us Hunter, you can't be serious right now - she makes big tooka eyes once and you do whatever she wants?!?!?! (Because Rex and Echo have experience denying Ahsoka's cuteness, so they have learned already that no good comes from indulging the chaos babies.) And then Omega and Crosshair befriend and get to ride the Zillow beast while it squashes all the imps as it escapes and then they find a nice uninhabited planet to drop it off, and the Batch is reunited and we get a happy ending of the season (and after credits hemlock escapes to be creepy again later, obv).

Meanwhile,

I still need to know where Cody is. Please.

#the bad batch season 2 spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch season 2 #the bad batch #episode 2x12

[dollarbin]

Dollar Bin #16:

Roger McGuinn's Cardiff Rose

At some point in 1974 Roger McGuinn must have really pissed off Kris Kristofferson and Bobby Neuwirth.

The details are lost to time and alcohol, which is great because it leaves us free to fabricate the events. Maybe Roger made a pass at Rita, or praised Stephen Stills, or claimed that his Dylan ripoff Mr. Spaceman is a good song based on an original idea.

Whatever McGuinn did, it was bad, because it led to the song Rock and Roll Time.

What other explanation could there be for a song this awful? Neuwirth and Kristofferson are listed as co-writers, along with McGuinn, and even at their drunkest neither Bobby nor Kris ever even dreamt of a song this intolerable.

The thing is, Kristofferson, in my experience, is pretty incapable of open cruelty. Kris is my sixteenth cousin, or something, so I've occasionally spent time around the guy at family reunions. He's always dazed, humble and smiling, more eager to talk about the greatness that was my grandmother than his own accomplishments, which he calls meager. And his wife of 40+ years accepts no nonsense and is incredibly kind. So he's gotta be a good guy. Plus we all know that Kris was the only ethical person in the room when New Yorkers laid into Sinead O'Connor at Bobfest.

So what the hell did Roger do to Kris that made him so angry that he helped McGuinn with this intolerable anthem, which opens with Roger asking the question, "Do You Think I'm A Loser?", to which we all instantly answer with a very strong "Yes!"?

But hold on. Maybe it wasn't anger after all. Yeah! Here's what I think actually happened:

I'll bet Neuwirth was a joker. After all, Dylan, the original jokerman, loved Neuwirth until he grumped off to Woodstock in 66. So I'm guessing that in 74 Roger, Kris and Neuworth were all very, very drunk when Neuwirth decided to play a joke on good old McGuinn.

All it took was a paper napkin. McGuinn famously bugged the hell out of Dylan for a song idea in 69 until Dylan relented and scrawled the first mediocre thing that came in his mind onto the nearest napkin. The result was Ballad of Easy Rider, the last great song McGuinn ever wrote.

(Yes, I just claimed that McGuinn did not write a good song after 1969. It's true. Have you listened to Car Phone recently?)

So I'm guessing Neuwirth wrote the following on a napkin then surrepticiously left it on the bar for Roger to gobble up the moment he and Kris stumbled out into the evening:

Great song idea from me and Kris when Roger was off draining the main vein: "Rock and Roll Time." First line: Do You Think I'm a Loser?

Then McGuinn, who was forever in need of a hit song basically from the moment Gene Clark first left the Byrds, thought he still had the magic touch when it came to ideas from discarded napkins, so he hustled home, finished the song, credited it to all three of them, and then sold zero copies of his 1976 album as a result.

Smooth move Roger!

Indeed, the album, Cardiff Rose, is a collection of terrible miscalculations. Let's make a handy list that McGuinn is welcome to claim that he wrote himself for the upcoming reissue's liner notes:

Jolly Roger believed that what the world needed in 1975 was Soft Rock Pirate Music. So he wrote the title track and covered Pretty Polly as well. The world needed a lot of things in 75: for example, we needed someone to give us a firm heads up on climate change, as well as another someone to interest a young Donald Trump in a one way ticket to Uranus, and a final someone to punch Stephen Stills solidly in the nose. Soft Rock Sea Shanties were not on that list.

McGuinn failed to take advantage of a top notch band on this record. If you made it to the guitar solo, you'll have heard that Rock and Roll Time is partially salvaged by none other than Mick Ronson. You know Ronson. 75 found him in-between Bowie's Spiders and Dylan's Rolling Thunder Review. Ronson plays all over the record and gets a producer credit. Mick and everyone else was so impressed with the resulting record that Cardiff Rose is not mentioned in any way whatsoever on Ronson's Wikipedia page. I'll bet Mick's grandkids dedicate a few hours each week to hunting the web, seeking out and destroying any links they can find between grandpa Mick and this album.

Roger managed to swipe yet another Dylan masterpiece on this record, Blood on the Tracks' outtake Up To Me, which was entirely unheard by the public at that point. Score one for Roger. But he listened to Dylan's quintessential take and felt that the song needed to rock. ¡Jesus Christo Roger! Buy a frickin clue.

Ronson isn't the only Dylan regular to appear on Cardiff Rose. Our favorite bass player to name drop, Rob Stoner, is on the record as well, plus drummer Howie Wyeth and multi-instrumentalist David Mansfield, who was a teenager at this point. Stoner hopefully did not corrupt Mansfield's youth by explaining the origins of his surname.

The funny thing is that much of the iconic Rolling Thunder sound arguable comes right from these misguided sessions. That's because Neuwirth played a second joke on McGuinn immediately after this record by grabbing Ronson, Stoner, Wyeth and Mansfield and jumping off Roger's pirate ship of fools and straight into Dylan's Rolling Thunder Band. Dylan's ship had come in once again, and they were all eager to don white face and perform some far superior piracy by helping Dylan blow our minds.

If Dylan had decided to make Up To Me into a Rolling Thunder screamer we'd probably all love it.  But Dylan knew better. He'd listened to Cardiff Rose.

#Youtube #roger mcguinn #bob dylan #stephen stills still sucks #rob stoner #soft rock sea shanties #kris kristofferson #bobby neuwirth #rolling thunder #mick ronson

[terrence-silver]

How would Terry Silver react to his daughter dating John?

You kidding me!? It is the best thing could ever happen!

...Well, to Terry in the 80's, anyway. Sure, somewhat unplanned, but, if Terry can have one extra way to tie John Kreese to himself then yes, becoming actual family is a jubilant affair and Terry couldn't have thought it out better himself, almost like this was meant to happen, because around this time, his opinion of John is immensely high, he holds him in great esteem and regard, he admires him, feels murderously and vengefully protective of the man and the man's interests (however misguided said interests may be in actuality), has an almost manically enthusiastic flare in doing an endless onslaught of favours for him and the sentiment is genuinely warm between them (if not burning). If Terry can't literally marry John himself, then his daughter is really just an extension of himself through which John can be his, platonically, through the lenses of camaraderie and brotherhood, hero worship, obsession, controlling tendencies, years of undisclosed yearning and want --- you name it and yeah, Terry might just be a bit pushy and get the bright idea to turn dating into marriage really quickly in a 'So, should I be preparing a ceremony, Johnny?' type of way? Their dynamic is infinitely complicated even now and Terry becoming John Kreese's actual father-in-law (something he jokes about with an infinite air of giddy glee) is honestly, to Terry anyway, the crowning moment of everything they went through together in Vietnam and the ultimate payback for all John has done for him. John saved his life countless times, so in return, Terry gives him his daughter, which, for all Terry's concerned, there's really no son-in-law that can measure up to the draconic standards he'd set...nobody but John Kreese. Ironically, John's the only son-in-law Terry would be pleased with even if John's material resources aren't up to par with the Billionaire's exuberant, lavish tastes. But, John's John and that makes John excellent by virtue of being John. Everyone else can own half of the world and still not be what John is to Terry; which is pretty unfair, but undoubtedly true.

Old man Terry? Oof.

Putting aside the fact that Terry would've been responsible for deliberately putting away his possible, maybe, perhaps son-in-law and oldest friend behind bars on trumped up charges, there's thirty plus years of extremely layered baggage between these two, which involves feelings of heartbreak, bitterness, resentment, love, abandonment, toxicity, promises made, promises kept and a whole Pandora's box of messiness. Messiness Terry might not wish a child of his involved in because he knows the stakes it comes with. This entirety of everything is between him and John, and nobody else, so to know that John is with his daughter brings up feelings. Not necessarily bad ones, but not necessarily good ones either. He loves this man. Hates this man. Feels indebted to this man. Would die for this man. Would kill this man. Would build him up and cast him back down and he feels somewhere deep down, John was gone for three decades, leaving Terry dry and forsaken, only to come back and take his daughter too, outside of bringing him back to run Cobra Kai with him, only to go about putting him in his place. See how it is all a great big chaotic whirlwind? See how the timing of John being with say, Terry's daughter is very off indeed? Don't get me wrong, Terry won't go about breaking this relationship, no. Not directly, anyway. It'll break itself, he feels. John Kreese still is dangerous and he goes about assaulting people left and right so it really isn't prudent to stay in touch, you see. Wink-wink. John still gets put in jail for supposedly beating up Stingray, and while his daughter cries on his shoulders, begging her papa to help her Johnny. Terry coos and lends all the comfort in the world, promising to get his best lawyers on the case while Johnny's unavailable, for his, quote on quote 'own mental wellbeing'. Which, this help he promises never comes. Because he's behind this whole entire scheme. An eye for an eye. John breaks Terry's heart for a second time, Terry retaliates by keeping the dojo and keeping his daughter right where she belongs. With her old, trusty, devoted dad.

If Johnny simply acted right, he could've had it all; the princess and the castle.

#terry silver #kk3 #cobra kai #john kreese #silver!daughter #daughter!silver #silver family #implied cobra husbands #tw; all the warnings #tw; family dynamics #old man terry #80's terry silver #80's john kreese

[mettywiththenotes]

It is 4am so sorry if this is nonsense but tonight I am thinking of the Eleven and Mike argument scene, because Mike’s behavior is once again so interesting

Mike: “Who said that I didn’t (love you anymore)?”

Eleven: “You never say it.”

And Mike just pauses and gives this sort of determined hardened look

Mike: “I say it.”

And he says this like there’s no room for discussion. He says it, okay? He does. He does say I love you, he does.

Eleven stands quietly, in front of him

Eleven: “You can’t even write it, Mike.”

And this face

This face. As soon as she said that, the determined look was wiped clean off, and all that’s left is this sort of vulnerable (or mildly surprised) look

It’s like he tried to keep calm, deep in that denial that yes Eleven, I do say it, Eleven, why don’t you believe me?

And why doesn’t she? Because when faced with the facts (and the evidence), he can’t even believe himself. It’s written all over his face. And that’s why the hardened look drops. He can’t even believe himself.

And it should be no coincidence that, after Eleven shows the letters, he says what he feels. And these next words are true, I believe. They are because he’s always thought this ever since he met her

Mike: “You’re the most incredible person in the world! And you can’t let these mouth breathers ruin you, ruin us! They’re nobodies! They’re nobodies. And you’re a superhero.”

These are all familiar words because he’s said them before (or at least to the effect), he’s always believed she’s amazing, that people who tell them no don’t matter, that she’s a hero. These words aren’t denial, or lies, they are the absolute truth coming from Mike. But they’re also a truth that doesn’t fix their relationship’s current problems. There’s nothing false in what he believes, but the rant reverts back into old territory, and that’s not what they need right now. It’s almost like a fallback (maybe not an intentional one that Mike threw out on purpose to deflect, but maybe it’s just... what they’re relationship is founded on)

And the words don’t work, don’t fit, because they can’t anymore

Eleven: “Not anymore.”

Eleven no longer believes it. Maybe Mike can revert back to those comforting words but she can’t, not after the day she had, remembering how powerless she felt (because in a literal sense, she is). How is she supposed to believe she’s someone so powerful if she was knocked down so easily?

Eleven in this scene is so very honest. She’s hit her limit of denial. Mike obviously hasn’t yet

And Eleven’s honesty trumps Mike’s denial. She can’t pretend anymore and even if he tries so desperately to, Mike can’t hide either, at least not well. When she stands up, clear and sad, he can’t escape her honesty (and maybe it reflects onto him too, in that moment, when his face falls)

And maybe it’s no coincidence either that after the scene that left them being honest, the next bedroom conversation? Mike and Will. And just look at that difference in Mike’s behavior.

Seems more like an honest face than before

And in comparison, there’s quite a few lines that are more honest than they should be

Mike: “Thanks by the way (...) For knocking some sense into me, I was being a total self-pitying idiot.”

Mike: “No. No, no, no, you didn’t deserve anything.”

Mike: “Listen, the truth is this last year has been weird.”

Mike: “I think we should work together. I think it would be easier if we’re a team. Friends. Best friends.”

He admits he was wrong, he states with so much certainty that Will didn’t deserve anything, he starts talking about the truth of how he’s feeling

The scene with Will feels a lot like, before he walked into the room, Mike was practicing the base of what he wanted to say (e.g. thank you, we should try to work as a team) but when he got into the room, he added extra things on. And he did it so easily.

And to top it all off, some differences being...

Mike and Eleven’s scene had Mike reverting to past connection, using familiar words

Mike and Will’s scene had Mike referring to the past, but ultimately seeking a familiar future (where he and Will are friends again)

Mike and Eleven’s scene had Mike referring to Eleven as a superhero, someone put on a pedestal higher than himself

Mike and Will’s scene had Mike reverting to calling himself and Will best friends, something on equal ground, familiar but now also new (as it’s for the future of their mission)

Afterwards, looking a little shaken

Afterwards, looking calmer and happy

The two scenes obviously focus on different matters, but idk I just like how... behavior-wise, Mike put his walls up with Eleven (which she promptly knocked through), but took them straight down with Will as soon as he entered the room

It’s almost like Eleven’s honesty had an effect on him. But I also do believe that Mike, as expected, cannot lie to Will. Maybe there’s denial, mostly with himself, but he cannot lie and say he wasn’t at fault, and that Will deserved the treatment, and rant/deflect instead of saying the truth. He cannot say that he doesn’t want that closeness again

It’s just clear, imo. And I like that you can tell

#mike wheeler #stranger things #mettys posts #metty posts #watch me clowning *gets into clown car and drives away* #i wrote this at 4am okay #i have that brainrot yknow #stranger things season 4 #stranger things 4 #eleven

[nahalism]

How old are you if you don’t mind me asking? I’m the “liberal feminists are dumb” anon maybe I should pick another name to identify myself lmao but for someone so young you seem to be someone very wise. I did mean it when I called you intelligent last time, I’m curious about what made you want to learn about esotericism, while I don’t believe in everything esotericism has to say it’s definitely something that has always attracted me too. Like what books do you or have you read?

lmao, its cool come as u are. & im 25 (will be 26 in june). and thank you

i dont want to make this reply a long history of my life story, cause ultimately it will just be a story & one that may have no bearing or relation to what you feel/think. my truth is that i feel each person should believe and follow in what feels true for them. for me that is the principle of being loving and lovable, creating harmony or betterment where i go, and leaving what i touch better than how i found it or at least untainted by my presence. when i fall short of that, i dissect it and apply it to myself painstakingly so that i become a fuller expression of what i want to be and that has always been my nature. esoteric study has helped me tremendously in that pursuit, but it isnt the core reason its my nature to pursue that way of living. ive always loved the stories of people older than me, music, literature, science, history, psychology, anthropology, philosophy, building things, logic, so schools of thought whether they be animism, islam, christianity, hinduism, theosophy, syncretism, the kabbalah, the sybil oracles, are all of interest to me because theyre like giant slabs of all of those subjects put together to pick apart and bring me to a fuller understanding of the world. i take what i find to be true & apply it, leave what i dont agree with & respect it because one day i might find it relevant. but ive always said on here and still feel that its not what you know or how much you know, its what you do with it. knowing something means nothing if it cant be practically applied & my experiences, beyond any book ive ever read, are what lead me to feel conviction in my beliefs. & yes, 😂those experiences are all the typical inexplicable psychic phenomena that are usually palmed off as woowoo. so ill write a list of some authors or books that have been great resources for me over the years below, but what i hope you ultimately get from this is that its what we feel and what we experience that trumps everything. ive met many athiests that are just genuinely good people & i think that example exhibits this best. to not believe in a god or a point to any of all this and still choose to be 'good' for goodness sake is i think what all of these teachings wish for us to arrive at.

- ted andrews and ivan antic (both have many good books), manly p hall - the secret teaching of all ages, helena blavatsky isis unveiled and the secret doctrine, rudolph stiener (many good books all audio also as books on youtube), any resources left behind by nikola tesla and einstein are incredibly to marry with the content in many of these books, florence scovel shinn, krs1 (also many good videos on youtube), ralph waldo emerson has amazing insights, james redfield the celestine prophecy, the monk who sold his ferarri robin sharma, santos bonacci has a good video on syncretism & how the bible relates to astrology and the earth as a tauric field of energy, robert wang quabalistic tarot is phenomenal, and of course the bible, the quaran, the bhagavad gita, the majority of hindu and buddhist texts and whichever gnostic texts you can get your hands on. if you are a sceptic your free to remain a sceptic. the key thing is to allow the texts to meet you where you are, but to know the difference between bias and separating the wheat from the chaff. best of luck & feel free to dm me at any point

#ask