#dee rambles
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palestine is no longer trending. when i used to make posts about palestine they would get ten, twenty, thirty notes just from people scrolling the tag. now they get zero notes. you cannot choose now to look away. free palestine
#dee rambles#free palestine#palestine#free gaza#fuck israel#rafah#all eyes on rafah#all eyes on palestine#all eyes on gaza
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raising hell all over town
pairing: best friend's dad!joel x f!reader
summary: you've been a friend of sarah's since you were old enough to steal bottles of her dad's whiskey for parties. sarah was always the sensible one in your friendship, getting you out of the trouble you usually started. but now sarah has gone off to college, who else but joel could pick up the pieces?
content/warnings: 18+ mdni. alcohol. drugs. age gap. violence/fighting. smut: unprotected p in v, spanking
a/n: inspired by this gif set, and the wonderful @amanitacowboy & @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for introducing me to that yellowstone scene
kind of nervous about this, my first proper smutty fic - i find smut really difficult to write for some reason (weird because i'm feral horny 24/7) so this was kinda out of my comfort zone but i hope you all enjoy!
PSA: i no longer have a taglist! feel free to follow my updates blog @breakfastupdates and turn the post notifs on to be notified when i post a new fic :)
Friday nights in Austin felt incomplete without Sarah by your side.
For years, she had been the epitome of your partner in crime; dragging you back to her place or putting you in a cab before the cops were called.
Had it not been for your fierce loyalty and protectiveness over Sarah, you're sure her dad would've barred you from the house years ago. Sarah was smarter than you in almost every way. Academically, emotionally, you name it.
Joel knew this, and he trusted the two of you together knowing you both balanced the other out. Watching the two of you reminded Joel of a younger version of himself and Tommy, always thankful that Sarah had followed in his footsteps as opposed to her uncle's.
Your relationship with your parents was rocky, to say the least, and the Miller's house had always been a safe haven for you. Joel had patched up your split lip or bloody nose more times than he wanted to admit for a girl your age. He swore he'd kill your old man one day for the states you'd turned up to their house in.
Still, he couldn't help but feel the urge to grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you from time to time. As much as his heart broke for you, it was also in your nature to be a damn brat. Joel had endured countless stifling days spent by the pool forcing himself to not let his eyes linger on the curves of your hips. He struggled to look you in the eye when he saw you sat on the kitchen counter waiting to leave for a party, your mini skirt riding dangerously high on your thighs.
There had been times when he had been reckless. Times that he'd had to pull himself away from your invisible grip on him and relieve his tension in the bathroom, fisting his cock onto the shower floor, biting down on the shape of your name on his tongue.
When he'd re-emerge into the living room, he knew that you knew. You'd look through your eyelashes at him and smile. His cheeks flushed, shame setting in at the speed at which he'd cum from the thought of your pussy clenching around his shaft.
He would never let it show, but something would rush through his body when he'd ask Sarah what the hell she do this time? He remembered one time in particular, as Sarah relayed the events of the night that had led to your bloody nose, he'd looked over at you perching on the counter. With blood leaking down your cupid's bow, you'd locked eyes with him and ran your tongue across your lip, revelling in the remnants of your victory.
Still, you had fine enough nights out with the girls from work. They just didn't get you the way Sarah did. They would shoot you judgemental glances from across the bar that lasted until the Monday back at work for whatever you had done this time that they disapproved of.
"They're just dull. You should see the way they look at me for literally just hooking up with guys." You had lamented to Sarah over the phone while you were both getting ready for your respective nights out on separate sides of the country.
"It's probably because they've seen you get through an entire friendship group before your second drink."
"Well, they should be taking notes. Tell me nobody at college is as fun as me." Jealousy tore through your chest at the thought of Sarah spending her time with new friends.
"Nobody here is as fun as you. They're very... reserved." You scoffed at her politeness.
"Babe, just say they're boring."
"I'm giving them a chance. Anyway, gotta go. Text me tomorrow and tell me the damage. Love ya!"
"Don't have too much fun without me. Love you too."
Despite their judging looks, you were always the first person they called upon to finish any mess they had gotten themselves into. Still, you were happy to oblige, even if it meant a few awkward minutes of silence at the coffee machine on Monday.
The group of you had poured out of an Uber into the busy bar around nine o'clock, buzzing with the confidence of your pre-drinks. Rounds of shots were ordered and consumed at a dizzying pace, and soon enough, bags of powder were discreetly distributed across the table.
"Bathroom?" Hannah, one of your closest and least judgmental co-workers nudged you.
"Thought you'd never ask." The two of you sauntered away from the table, hand-in-hand, quickly bundling into a tight cubicle.
The bathroom filled up as the two of you tried to be as silent as possible, scooping your pinky nails into the small bag.
"Hurry the fuck up!" Someone from outside the cubicle called, thudding her fists against the door.
"Get fucked." You called back, muttering this bitch under your breath to Hannah.
As the two of you packed your things back into your handbags, the cubicle door jolted half open, smacking Hannah in the shoulder.
"Are you fucking serious?" You shouted at the small brunette on the other side of the door, checking Hannah over for injury.
"You hit me, you bitch." She straightened herself up, rubbing her shoulder.
"I'll do worse if you don't fucking move." The brunette hissed in her face.
You screwed your face up and shoved her, making her stumble backwards into the sink. The other girls in the bathroom grabbed their bags and scurried to the exit, evidently not wanting to be caught in the crossfire.
"Apologise." You said, moving toward the girl who was now pulling herself up with the help of the basins on either side of her.
"Fuck you." She spat, saliva hitting your cheek before she lunged forward.
Your fist connected with her nose before she even had time to swing, and your right hand secured a tight grip on the back of her hair.
"I said, apologise to my friend."
"I'm sorry." She choked, pathetically. Her face shrivelled in fear and pain.
"Not so fuckin' big now, are you?" Hannah said, which was ironic, considering the girl who had bruised her was now quivering under your fist.
Content with her apology, you released your grip on her and re-entered the bar with Hannah trailing behind you. As you both rejoined your table, you felt a tap on your shoulder.
"Our friend said you just attacked her in the bathroom." Another petite girl looked up at you, one hand on her hip.
"She hit my friend, here. Was just trying to teach her some manners."
The entirety of your group was now turned to face you, exchanging harsh whispers of your name followed by just leave it.
"You broke her nose!" The girl shrilled. You looked over her shoulder to the girl doubled over, clutching her bloody nose with an ensemble of people crowding around her.
"No, I think it just looks like that."
You grinned at the rage growing behind her eyes, your smile unfaltering even as her fist collided with your cheek.
"Harder." You shouted, rolling your neck from side to side.
"What?!"
"Come on, hit me harder. I know you got it in you." She didn't take much convincing; her next punch knocked you backwards onto the table as everyone rushed to tear the two of you apart.
You stepped forward to finally let her have it when a pair of strong hands pulled you back.
"Get off!" You shouted, kicking against who you assumed to be security throwing you out. You just hoped they weren't calling the cops, too.
"C'mon, doll. You've had enough fun for one night." A familiar Southern drawl cooed, dragging you out into the warm night. "Now, that wasn't very ladylike of you, darlin'."
He let you go from his grip and you turned to face him. To your surprise, you were met with the smirk of the younger Miller brother.
"Tommy." You breathed, "I didn't see you in there."
"Well, lucky I noticed you ain't it." He grinned.
Spending so much time at the Miller's had you well acquainted with Sarah's uncle Tommy. He'd seen you in much worse states than this, and in turn, so had you.
"Didn't need you to swoop in and save me, Tommy."
"Wasn't saving you, sweetheart. Was savin' that poor girl." You both smiled at the tone of pride in his voice.
"You got somewhere to go, trouble? Don't think you should be hangin' round here for too long."
"Can't exactly go home bleeding from my face." You sighed, realising you probably hadn't thought this through. You missed Sarah.
Tommy fished around in his pocket for his phone before raising it to his ear.
"Hey, big brother." Your stomach flipped. "No, no- it's not me. Joel, listen." You could almost hear Joel on the other end of the phone, witnessing it in person more times than you could count. It's not even ten o'clock yet, don't tell me you're locked up already.
"Our favourite little troublemaker needs a place to crash tonight. I'd drive her over but I've already had my fair share of beers. Okay, great. I'll tell her."
Once he'd hung up, Tommy told you that Joel was on his way to come and pick you up. You could feel your heartbeat in your stomach. You'd never been alone with Joel for longer than a couple of hours at most, let alone spending the night at his while Sarah was out of town. Something inside of you twitched in excitement, a warm rush settling deep in your belly.
You told Tommy to go back into the bar, that Joel wouldn't be long and you'd walk down the street to meet him in case those girls came out looking for another round.
As you made your way underneath the streetlights toward the direction of the Miller's house, you pulled your compact from your bag and touched up your make-up, re-curling your lashes and dousing a thick layer of clear lipgloss onto your lips, not bothering to tend to any of the blood trickling down your skin. You spritzed yourself with perfume and ran a brush through your hair, smiling at the thought of Joel seeing you waiting on the curbside for him.
Right on cue, his truck pulled around the corner. You raised your hand and wiggled your fingers, a small smirk spreading across your cheeks.
You were grateful for your earlier decision to wear your knee-high boots with a denim mini-skirt, adding a little extra sway to your hips as you made your way to the passenger side of Joel's truck. You climbed in and turned to face him, flashing him a toothy grin, well aware of the blood staining your teeth.
"You're a damn mess, princess." Something deep inside of you came to life at his words, causing you to visibly clench your exposed thighs together. "S'there I was, thinking to myself how thankful I am for a peaceful night after workin' lates all week. When my phone rings, just as I'd sat down and made myself comfortable."
"Peace is overrated." You replied.
"So, what did you do this time? Steal another cop car? Break into a hotel pool? Make out with someone's husband?"
You played with the hem of your skirt as he spoke, blushing as he listed a few of your past activities he'd either bailed you out of or heard about from Sarah.
"I didn't start this one." You said, a slight whine in your voice. "Someone hit my friend, I was just looking out for her."
"Your friend can't fight her own battles?"
"You never have a problem when it's Sarah I'm throwing punches for."
He scoffed. "Now, you know I've always taught her to never start a fight but always to finish one. You on the other hand, I don't think nobody's taught you anythin' of the sort."
"And are you gonna be the one to do that, Mr Miller?" You mimicked his Texan accent, which was much thicker than yours, and parted your legs in your seat ever so slightly.
"If I didn't know you better, darlin', I'd think you were tryin' to get me in some sort of trouble."
He pulled into the driveway and switched the ignition off before jogging to your side of the truck and holding the door open for you, as well as offering you an outstretched hand.
"Always such a gentleman." You smiled, looking at him through your eyelashes as you stepped out, hand in his.
He exhaled out of his nose, shaking his head softly as he slammed the door shut behind you. His hand moved to the small of your back, guiding you into the house.
"Sarah's bed is all made up, I'm sure you know where her clothes are f'you wanna change into something more... comfortable." His eyes trailed down your figure, your clothes hugging all the right places.
"Do you not like my outfit?" You pouted, holding your hands behind your back and sticking your chest out, swaying from side to side.
"Course not, y'look real pretty. Just thought you'd wanna watch TV before going to sleep is all." Joel brought a hand to the back of his head, rubbing his neck nervously as his eyes shifted to the floor.
For such a handsome man, he was so damn insecure. Maybe it was the gentleman in him, thinking that it was wrong for someone his age to want someone the same age as his daughter. He knew you didn't think like that, Sarah had told him multiple stories about the older men you'd hooked with at the bar.
He'd even caught you making out with a kid from your school's dad a few years ago when he'd come to pick you and Sarah up from a party. Joel had seemingly known the man, and you remembered how he'd stalked out of his truck and toward you both, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and warning him that his wife wasn't going to like hearing about this.
So, you kicked off your boots and took yourself upstairs into Sarah's bedroom. Not bothering to close the blinds, you peeled your clothes off and looked at yourself in the full length mirror.
The warmth of your earlier drinks still coated your inhibitions. You knew you looked good in your black lace set, breasts sat perkily on your chest and your ass cheeks the perfect handfuls.
Fuck it. If he wasn't going to be ballsy enough to make the first move, maybe you should.
You kissed the tips of your fingers and pressed them against a framed photo of you and Sarah giggling at whatever was going on behind the camera.
"Sorry, Sarah." You whispered, before making your way down the stairs.
Joel heard you coming but was too preoccupied fighting with the TV remote control to turn around and face you just yet.
"If I can get this damn thing to work I think they're showin' Scarface at ten, I know you said you ain't seen it so thought we could watch it."
"Sounds good," you spoke, your voice more honeyed than usual. "Hey, Joel. Do you think this will be comfy enough?"
He whipped his head around quickly, ready to give you the same kind of answer he did whenever Sarah asked for his opinion in a changing room. It took a second for him to register what he was looking at, but when it clicked he dropped the remote to the floor and turned his whole body to face you.
"What the hell," his face turned bright red, unsure what to do with his hands. You could give him a few ideas.
"You not like it?" You asked, voice low as you walked slowly in his direction.
His trousers began to tighten around his hardening cock and you smiled, glad that you were indeed on the same page.
"Course I- I, what the hell are you playin' at?"
"Come on, Joel. I gotta make up for interrupting your peaceful night somehow."
You closed the gap between you both and placed a hand delicately on his chest, tracing circles with the tip of your long, manicured nails.
Joel swallowed hard.
"This ain't right." He said weakly, his eyes betraying his words as they devoured the sight of your body before him.
"Cut the shit, Joel. I know you want me, and I want you."
He didn't answer, but instead threw you over his shoulder and carried you up to his bedroom, placing a couple of firm smacks on your ass as you wriggle against his strong grip. Your stomach did backflips, exhilarated at the prospect of what was about to happen.
Upon entering his room, he threw you roughly onto the bed and worked at undoing his belt as you scrambled onto your back, resting on your elbows.
"Y'know what I really thought when Tommy called, tellin' me I needed to come pick you up?" He said, although it didn't sound much like a question. "I thought, this dumb slut needs some sense fucking into her."
You moaned at his words, basking in the side of him that you knew always existed.
“Thought t’myself, she needs teachin’ some fuckin' manners f’once.”
Joel stalked around the side of the bed and sat and patted his lap. Wordlessly, you shifted your weight next to him and dangled your legs over the side of the bed.
He brought his right hand in between your thighs, making you shiver at the feeling of his coarse fingers grazing your skin. He ran his fingers up and down the length of your thigh, each time stopping short of the hem of your skirt.
"This is what you want, ain't it sweetheart?" He spoke lowly, voice gravelly and as rough as his touch. Each night spent tangled and alone in your sheets, fingers grazing your soaked folds with his name on your lips felt redundant. Nothing could come close to the feel of his skin on yours.
Pulling you from your trance, he slapped your inner thigh hard when you didn't respond. "Need t'hear you say it."
"Yes,' you moan through gritted teeth, surprised you can even find your voice. "This is what I need."
Sick of his incessant teasing, you clamber onto his lap and hook your fingers around the back of his neck.
"But I think you need this just as much, Mr Miller. You must get so lonely in this house all by yourself. Sarah always tells me how you never have any lady friends hanging around."
You straddle his lap and grip his neck for support, softly grinding yourself on the hardness of his lap. He moves a hand from your waist to roughly seize your chin, tipping your face down to meet his gaze.
"Your old man must've forgot to teach you some manners, little girl." His low voice tore through your body.
Joel hoists your skirt up to your waist and flips you underneath him in one swift motion. His body looms over yours, fingers trailing a rough and jagged line down to where you need him most. He moved at an antagonising slow pace, but you can't bring yourself to give into his little game by begging for more.
"Here's what we're gonna do, darlin'. You're gonna be a good girl f'me and tell daddy exactly what happened tonight." The mouth on him.
The way your body writhed and squirmed at his words didn't go unnoticed. With no warning, he plunged two thick digits inside of you and held them deep in place, his face inches away from yours.
"N'if you stutter, or lie, or say anythin' I don't like for that matter, you'll be over my knee, red-raw," his fingers curl inside of you and you bite back a moan, desperate to not let him have the upper hand.
"No matter how much you cry those pretty little eyes out, I won't quit 'til you've learnt somethin'. Understood?"
You suck a breath in through your nose, a sharp sting reminding you of the open wound still decorating your face.
"Yes, sir."
part 2 coming soon
taglist: @cool-iguana @nostalxgic @chaotic-mystery @beardedjoel
#my fic#the last of us#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x reader#tlou fanfiction#joel tlou#joel miller x female reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfic#dee rambles#pedrohub#joel miller fanfic#joel miller#joel x reader#no use of y/n#the last of us hbo#the last of us fanfiction#tlou hbo#tlou#joel miller smut#the last of us series#tlou series#dee writes
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Happy new year everyone!
I started this blog back in March of this year and I am so grateful that I did. I had been just a ghost reader for gvf Tumblr for a long time but finally decided that I wanted to start writing and interacting and making friends on here and I am so glad that I did. So here's to another year of loving Greta Van Fleet and loving each other. Whether I talk to you every day or we just reblog each other's posts now and then, please know that I am very grateful for you and I can't wait to see where this next year takes us.
Bajabule! And a happy new year!!
<3 Dee
And just a special mention to those blogs that truly make my days better
@jakeyt @joshym @tommie-gvf @ignite-my-fire @writingcold @takenbythemadness @way-to-go-lad @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @iheartjakekiszka @jmkho @mackalah @vanfleeter @builtbybrokenbells @mybussyinchrist @andtherestishistory13
And a special cheesy shout out to @earthlysorrows for being the first gvf blog that I ever followed and to @ignite-my-fire for being the first person to join my taglist 🤍
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Some dude said gotg 3 was soulless and honestly this is why I can’t ever date. What if I meet someone like that? What if I get into a relationship and then one day I find out he wasn’t moved at all by baby Rocket being tortured and then still finding a family and love and recovering? Sick sick people out there man
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latest mood: stuffing someone to the point they have pant to breathe only to suck them off/eat them out to the point they genuinely risk passing out because their body can't handle the over-stimulation
I'm greedy, I need you to focus me as well as all that digestion.
Your body can churn away but I'm the cause and the benefactor my work, plaything. You can breathe once I claim my reward.
#stuffing#dee rambles#food domme#stuffed belly#food stuffing#food coma#food baby#you can tell i've been writing smut again#in general (for a book) not here#man I miss doing audios
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Sometimes I feel like people need to be reminded that not everything is meant for them, and that somewhere, there *is* a place for them, and that's okay.
A restaurant with few, if any, vegetarian options on their menu, and you don't eat meat? There's a large number of restaurants that *do* have such options for you.
A series of books that's full of entertaining stories, but also sex & violence, and you're not about that, or are too young for it? The world's full of books with entertaining stories that don't contain any of those things.
Your favorite content creator is trying out a new game series, and you don't like the game they're trying? Enjoy the content from them that *does* have the games you like, or maybe try another content creator for a bit. There's plenty of them out there.
You are not owed anything, and it's not other people's responsibilities to supply you with things to enjoy. You've got the whole world at your fingertips via the internet. Get out there, find what you like, and stop trying to force your preferences on others.
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MY GIRL MY GIRL MY GIRL YOU WILLL BE MY GIRL
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Pedro’s in NYC this weekend for an event honoring Sarah Paulson and I swear on everything holy if this man pops up at the Omar Apollo show I was supposed to be at tomorrow I am jumping off of very tall somethings!!!
#dee rambles#I love that they’re friends but pls spare me this one (1) time sir#I fear I won’t make it out alive if it happens
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i do not like exams because i always go off topic. writing an essay about the homesteaders and i'm talking about the friends of the indian. like somewhere i have lost the fucking plot
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LET'S GOOOO NEW WIP
People said that Treadwell’s Emporium was always strangely busy for the little market town of Luddesworth. People coming and going at all hours – strange sorts of people at that. Aaminah Salim, who lived next to the shop, said that she had once seen a man with a ruff and stockings leave the by the front door. Nobody had quite believed that, but they’d been quick to explain it away. Perhaps he was going to a fancy dress party as Henry VIII, or had been going to a historical re-enactment. Or perhaps Aaminah had been dreaming.
The truth was that it wasn’t Henry VIII anyway. It was Francis I.
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So I am aware that I am the only person making Edward II content as far as I can see, bUT if you are writing/drawing my guy then here is some advice from a MASSIVE Edward II nerd:
let's discuss Edward's appearance in excessive detail (yay)
Ok so. The basics: he had blond curly hair that reached his shoulders, parted in the middle in the style of the time. And a beard. Or at least he does in his effigy, in which we can imagine he is 43, his age at the time of death.
I mean. Let's take a moment to appreciate his hair. It is A Look that I want to emulate with all my heart ands soul. Just me? Fine.
In earlier depictions of him he is clean shaven. For example, this drawing of him when he was accepting the title of Prince of Wales from his father
look at my little guy (literally little, because the picture turned out tiddly and I don't know why). Lmao. Anyway, here are some more pictures of Edward II.
I sometimes see people say that this is a young Edward III, but as this was produced in 1326 I doubt it. I rarely see drawings of royalty before they become active in politics, which Edward III at the tender age of 14 had not yet become. So it's more likely that this is just a very youthful looking Edward II.
Again, this is probably Edward II. It's not specified, but it was produced during his reign so we can safely assume it's the man himself.
ok, so those are some drawings of him, what next?
unfortunately we don't know what his eye colour or complexion was. I'd imagine his eyes were probably blue or grey as it's quite rare to have blond hair and dark eyes. Also (and yes, I am looking too deeply into this, but shush), both his parents had dark hair, so for him to have lighter coloured hair would suggest a lack of pigmentation in hair and eyes, which would also lead to poor eyesight. (I can confirm this because I have the same problem. Both my parents have dark brown hair and dark eyes but I am blond and blue eyed as the pigmentation in my hair and eyes didn't develop as quickly as normal - it's common for white people to be blond when born and then for their hair to darken, but with me this is happening much more slowly than it did for my parents. As a result my eyesight is so bad that I can't buy glasses frames thick enough to contain the lenses lmao.)
here are what some of Edward's contemporaries had to say about him (quotes taken from Kathryn Warner's excellent blog)
"tall and strong, a fine figure of a handsome man"
"fair of body and great of strength"
"of a well-formed and a handsome person"
"one of the strongest men of his realm"
(To be honest the fact that he was super hot seems to be his only redeeming feature in the eyes of the monks.)
Edward enjoyed 'unkingly' activities such as digging ditches, thatching roofs and doing blacksmith work, so we can imagine that he was really strong (the quotes back this up). His father, Edward I, was six foot two so Edward II would have been pretty tall too.
So, in conclusion, if you're writing/drawing Edward II give him awesome hair. Give him dirt under his fingernails. Give him muscles. For the love of God don't turn him into the Braveheart version.
(also, when I look up references to the muscular structure most of the drawings that come up look like they're on steroids. don't put Edward on steroids. The strongest men in the world don't have ridiculously defined muscles. They just look 'bulky' or 'barrel chested'. So yeah :).)
Hope this helps!!! If not, at least this has been an excuse to ramble about Edward II.
#dee rambles#edward ii#rambles#anyway yeah#history#royalty#british history#kings and queens#long post
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(a late) @swiftiscruff gift exchange 🫧
i know i’m late - but i want to share some love for the people i have met in this community. i joined this fandom during a really difficult period in my life. i had moved home to live with my parents, heartbroken, and was failing my masters degree thanks to an abundance of external and psychological intrusions.
being welcomed into this community from pretty much the get go reminded me of all the good things around me at a time that i seemed to be overwhelmed with the bad. every interaction, from likes to reblogs to messages or shared horniness at 3am has given me a sense of belonging and friendship i didn’t even realise i so needed.
isn’t it so wonderful that creativity in its entirety is enough to bring people together? forget time zones or age groups or upbringing or occupation, we all share a need and desire to create and share and bond and lift one another as high as we possibly can.
so here’s to you all, the ones who have affected my life - big or small - in any way whatsoever during the past year. whether we’re friends, mutuals, ships passing in the night or have never even had a real conversation, i love you all and will never take any of this for granted.
@chaotic-iguana @nostalxgic @ilovepedro @mrsmando @dustydaddyyy @chaotic-mystery @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @joelsgreys @sapphic-gardn @party-hearses @planet-marz1 @joelscurls @swiftispunk @amanitacowboy @wannab-urs @atinylittlepain @hier--soir @softlyspector @bastardmandennis @beskarandblasters @limerence4u @persephone-girl @daydreamingmiller @sunspearesque @5oh5 @bornbetter @chiogarza @bageldaddy @janaispunk @pascalpvnk @shellshocklove @beardedjoel @joels-darlin @morallyinept @girlinterrupted1999
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"double record....."
stardust window....
album covers??
......
.........
.............
call me crazy but another half to starcatcher called stardust? second leg of tours for second half of album??
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Feeling like posting the hot take that more people would ship/be inclined to see romantic undertones with the Doctor and Donna, but Catherine Tate and David Tennant are the same age and she doesn’t look twenty. (NO HATE to those who don’t ship it!!! Or who never would! This is more about the fact that Donna isn’t fifteen years younger than he is so I think some of that plays into it.)
#not that i hate older man/younger woman pairings tbh (obviously both over age 18 tho!)#like cary grand and Audrey Hepburn in charade!!!#idk i might delete this later#been thinking about this for a while and im sick and don’t care rn#Dee rambles#def a ramble#Doctor who#ten x donna#fourteen x donna#donna noble#shipping
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Call me sentimental but a night of drinking while I serve up decadent food to my plaything whose bound by chains to a table sounds cute right now.
Sure, things start normal, but eventually I convince my plaything to lie on the table and then I cuff their hands above them while I insist they clean off every plate, including the remnants from my kitchen.
I don't care if they're at their limit and wiggling to try find an angle where the pressure of gravity on their gut doesn't hurt so much. The contents of their sore gut abusing their surrounding organs.
Maybe I'll help soothe their noisy belly.
Maybe I'll just sit in a leather chair with a drink and watch them suffer.
It just sounds so cute to me. I treat my playthings so well, don't you think?
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