#i think he deserves to be cared for outside of just the context of his relationships with other ppl and its kind of painful

[doomed2repeat]

I know some people use the argument that Colin “lead Penelope on” as a reason to dislike him or want him to grovel, but that’s putting the fuckboy filter on him that he doesn’t deserve. Saying Colin was leading Penelope on implies some premeditated motive that Colin simply did not have. Lead her on to what? More friendship??

Colin was not leading Penelope on, Penelope lead herself on, I’m sorry to say it. Literally everything Colin did was accompanied by a reminder that they were just friends, with him verbally reminding her they were just friends even, and despite it all, Penelope maintained hope. That’s normal, and relatable (I know I’ve been there), but that doesn’t make her hope Colin’s fault, and with Colin being unaware of it, it especially doesn’t make it his responsibility.

Colin and Pen’s problem was that the way they saw their relationship never matched up from the beginning. From the moment they met Penelope was in love with him and framed their relationship around that love, while Colin only saw friendship. This is one person in the friendship catching feelings and trying to romanticize platonic aspects of that friendship. Penelope was always primed to treat his behavior with rose colored glasses and hope, while Colin was absolutely oblivious to how she was taking his friendliness, and worse- he couldn’t recognize her crush because that is how she’s always acted with him.

And as their childhood friendship developed into their adult years, Colin didn’t transition into treating Pen like an adult woman that he should distance himself from, because he still saw her as his friend and didn’t realize anything had changed. This is pretty much the problem behind the “You do not count” situation. Colin means he could never stop talking to her because of their established friendship, while Penelope hears “you do not count as a woman.”

Colin might’ve been acting in ways that were inappropriate for a regency man and woman to do, but within the context of them being friends for years, from before her debut, it’s obvious that Colin was just continuing childhood behaviors - not changing them in a way that would lead Penelope on- because Colin didn’t see any reason to change them. He doesn’t see a girl with a crush, he sees Pen, his old childhood friend. He didn’t think to be careful with her romantic feelings because he doesn’t know she has any. He doesn’t think to be careful with her reputation because he doesn’t consider this longstanding friendship to be scandalous.

If Colin was more situationally aware, the only way to avoid this whole thing would be for Colin to have stopped interacting with Penelope outside of basic politeness once he realized her crush on him, but as we all know, Colin doesn’t consider Pen someone he could cut off, and he is not situationally aware. And so yeah, we’re all groaning because as viewers we can see all the little ways Colin is overstepping and braking social rules, but do you really think Colin sees it?

“Leading Penelope on” implies that Colin was intentionally playing with Penelope’s feelings to get something out of her. But this is a true “Oblivious Colin” moment. Give the boy some grace, he just didn’t know!!! It’s a friends to lovers story. Colin is just in the friends phase. It might be frustrating until he falls for her, but it’s what we signed up for!

#Colin’s POV matters to the story #there are two sides to this #also a reminder how the friend zone has been used against women #polin #bridgerton #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #friendzone #friends to lovers #Colin’s POV

[amaurotine]

in a world of ppl who can perceive aether (and therefore possibly the impact of emotions upon the soul in real time); in a world where everyone is polite to a rehearsed and almost rigid degree at times, in a world where being too straightforward could be considered unkind/improper and therefore poetic vagueness is often necessitated for the sake of propriety, i think it would actually be nice to be told, point blank and with no room left for ambiguity or misinterpretation, that you are loved and needed. that you are loved and needed, outside the context of you being someone's friend or wingman but for yourself and the other things that compose your essence and your person.

i think it's smth that hyth really fucking needs to hear and i think so much abt ppl interacting with him just to ask where e.met or a.zem is (which, to be fair, is a natural question bc the two are often inseparable and it is generally widely assumed by everyone in ama.urot that hyth knows where ha.des is, due to him also being notorious for keeping tabs on most of what goes on in ama.urot) but it's also kind of painful because he would like to be needed and loved for himself and not because he's someone who can someone else for you bc he is friends with that person,

#🧋 — spillin' on ur dash. #and yes perhaps to some degree this happening so often is his own fault bc he resigned himself (gladly) to #being a support role. to being THAT friend. #but i think it's also valid to be kind of :/ when he just wants to hang out and ppl immediately ask him where ha.des or az.em is. #i think he deserves to be cared for outside of just the context of his relationships with other ppl and its kind of painful #when you realize that your love and friendship with certain ppl is. in others' eyes. your sole defining value. #like nobody is interested in who YOU are as a person outside the fact that you're friends/lovers/etc with certain better-known individuals #and this isn't coming from a place of begrudging a.zem or e.met anything; he's proud of them and loves them more than anyone #it's. like. hard to explain. but there is something kind of painful abt ppl defining you this way and this way alone. like you dont exist #or have importance outside the context of people you're associated with. #regarding others as individual people with feelings and thoughts and complexity #vs. simply regarding others more or less as a means of finding someone else... #like. is he hythlodaeus to you or is he just emet-selch/azem's best friend??? #(and yeah i get that he is very much Both Of Them but which comes first in your eyes?? that matters in how you regard someone.)

[spacedace]

Found this old snippet and don't really remember of the context for it outside of being a joking exploration of how weird the Fenton/Phantom family tree would seem to outsiders (not even getting into how relationships might be classified differently between the human side & the ghost side)

Anyway gonna drop it here as a prompt lol

Mind the quick reference to dismemberment, there's no gore or detailed description and no one is actually hurt, it's more there for comedic effect, but still wanted to give the heads up on it 👍

---

Nomad motioned to the towering, vaguely vampire-looking buff dude with literal flaming hair what the fuck, “Dan, this is everyone. Everyone this is Dan. He’s my…” Nomad trailed off and blinked, a look of confused befuddlement on her face as she let the sentence hang for too long.

“Huh…” She said considering, looking up at vampire-dude, Dan apparently, with a confused furrow on her brow. “You know this is the first time I’ve ever had to try and explain our relationship to each other and I’m drawing a blank and what exactly to call you. Uncle? Dad? Brother? Like, I think you could technically be considered all three.”

What the fuck did that mean??? Kon snapped his attention over to meet Tim’s masked gaze, the look of wild confusion Kon was sure was on his own face mirrored there. Around the meeting room confused and worried looks were being shared by the rest of the League. Which like, yeah, what in the Habsburgs was happening here for all of those terms to be applicable?

“Well, you’re Danny’s Mirror, so if you consider him your dad then it stands to reason I’m also your father.” Dan said, hand coming up to his - literally flaming, how did that work? - goatee thoughtfully.

“Yeah but like, I call Danny dad just to piss Vlad off.” Nomad countered, toying with her severed arm with her still attached hand. Kon didn’t think he’d ever get over how casual she was about being literally disarmed and just…not caring. “And I definitely don’t see you as a dad. Uncle?”

The giant of a ghost shook his head with a frown, “Implies that Danny and I are brothers, which could work but gives our relationship kind of a weird vibe. I feel more like his father than anything.”

“Gramps, then?”

“No.”

Nomad laughed, “Fair, wouldn’t want to take the title of Grampa away from CW. Besides we’re both half Vlad, so I think brother works best here.” She frowned, looking thoughtful, “Maybe half brother?”

Dan considered, “Half-brother could work. Though it gives Vlad more credit than he deserves.”

“Oh come on, can you imagine the look on his face if we went in together on suing him for child support?” Nomad asked, fanged grin wicked. Dan’s face lit up at the idea, and Kon felt like they were rapidly heading towards the two ghosts running off to go and go torment whoever this Vlad guy was rather then them help deal with the current demonic problem at hand.

“Can you please explain what any of that means?” Kon asked, more a squeak than anything else. He was starting to get a headache.

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dani phantom #danielle phantom #elle phantom #elle's hero name is Nomad in this one because why not lol #dan phantom #kon el kent #kon kent #connor kent #tim drake #justice league #Elle & Dan just having a very weird concerning conversation about how to define how they're related to each other #& accidentally invoking imagery of European royal families terrible marriage practices #If Bruce wasn't on the verge of trying to adopt the sassy ghost girl *before* all this he absolutely is now #Kon thought his family dynamics were fucking weird but now he's just grateful he doesn't need to use a chart to explain it #what do you *mean* you're older sister could also qualify as your grandma & your older brother is kinda your dad?? #And who the FUCK is Vlad and why does it seam like he's somehow responsible for all this? #even the demon they pulled Dan in to help with has stopped what he was doing in vague horror and concern for what's going on here

[zan0tix]

Hi tumblr user Zan0tix, I have to say that I love that you draw Jake as big and hairy AND fem. It's such a rare combination outside of mean-spirited caricatures, every time I see your Jake I get a big smile on my face. :)

Hi tumblr user HermitCyclop ^u^ here is a jake drawing for you 🫶

The transmisogynistic demonisation of these features is so maddening!!! I agree! Im glad that the intent (appreciating these features) of my jake design reaches you c:

GOING TO PUT IT UNDER THE CUT BECAUSE I HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY. But jake english gender meta because i think about it Too Much and am taking this as an excuse to infodump abt it. 😁

The alpha kids and their specific defiance of both homestucks gendered narrative AND real life societal expectations are so fun to think about to me!! but since we are talking about jake, his specific defiance of both homestucks models of masculinity and femininity in the context of his queerness is like the reason he is my fav character.

He props himself up that he wants to be the adventure "hero" in the homestuck sense (the hardheaded blue femme fatale) and the western media sense (the hardheaded action man) yet whenever pressed to actually act on what he says he always refuses or obfuscates. Because really what he wants is to just be himself! I really love the alpha kids because they all just want to be Themselves, not be restricted and defined by what is expected of them, (all the characters have this but the alphas particularly really hammer this home for me)

The heavy emphasis on their beta selves, the heteronormative archetypes they embodied and what went wrong in their lives that manifest as fears in their alpha selves... im always thinking about it. How differently society affects queer ppls choices in life and then the fact that they all get a second chance and getting to watch them live out that second chance and realize their queerness and them all caring so much abt eachother and wanting to aspire to be better FOR the ones they love!!!!!! it always tugs at my heart strings to ponder😢😢

IM SO GOOD AT GOING ON TANGENTS MY BAD but basically. The alpha kids explicit queerness and how despite the comic itself protesting, they are all shown to be deserving of love (of all kinds) And as a person who super heavily relates to jake, his experience with his own identity (and dirks unending adoration and love for him and likewise jakes belief and admiration of dirk) serves to me as a reminder that yknow! We are all worthy of love!! Even if we dont think ourselves to be (this is just the message of shrek.) and there is always hope to be found in things improving!!!!

But in a text thats explicitly queer and not shy about letting its queer characters do wrong in realistic ways i think this message is incredibly powerful and certainly one of the best things about the comic in my eyes. And i love embracing that in my art of the characters! Drawing queer (but here specifically trans) characters all getting to be proud of themselves and their appearances makes me feel proud of myself alongside them and I think its wonderful to be able appreciate other trans peoples experiences and looks through it too!!

I specifically in homestuck fandom dont really see anybody but twinks (usually dirk or eridan LMFAO) portrayed to be fem in any manner 😢 when jake is the most explicitly feminine man in the comic. (I think the transmisogyny thats kind of rampant in this fandom means people dont want to consider those outside conventional attractiveness being feminine or transfem identities outside binary transwomen if even that😭😭) I am being the change i wana see in the world 🙏 The amount of transfem fat gay bear jake in the world increases by one every time i post

#hermitcyclop #daniel talks #my art #jake english #DONT LET ME TALK ABOUT JAKE ENGLISH I WILL NOT STOP. I COULD KPEP GOING BUT ITS MIDNIGHT AND I NEED SLEEP. #But thank you for the ask hermitcyclop you are the most dedicated dirkjaker mad respect 🫶 years in the game and still around.. you are cray

[rosedom]

haii :3 if its ok could i request soft/ lazy sex (sex more akin to eating him out in this context than anything) with ftm!wrio? like he comes back home after a stressful day to rosepetals trailing all the way to the bedroom because the reader wanted to treat him and show him how much they absolutely adore him. and whats a better treat than letting your boyfriend drown in pleasure while you feast on his pussy? just lotsa praise, and just general sappy softness with fluffy aftercare

(srry if this is a bit wordy ;>_>i just think wrio deserves the world)

"an unnamed player has invited WRIOTHESLEY to play . . . tinged pink with primordial water

✦ㅤㅤ 【 CW 】 dom!gn!reader, sub!ftm!wriothesley, cheesy romantics, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, praise, aftercare .

A/N : hoooolyyyy shit;; this ask made me so excited (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠）

"do you want to watch, [PLAYER]? press KEEP READING to spectate the match."

The petals are soft, strewn across the floor and scattered lightly on the bed. You picked them out specifically for their silk-softness. In the quiet of the bedroom, you can hear the thud of the door, and you know that your small game has begun.

Walking across the hallway—padding past the kitchen and the office, the living space—, the petals are gentle against Wriothesley's feet, his bare soles touching the sporadic blotches of crimson red.

He calls your name, and you reply with a soft, "In here;" it's quiet, because you hear his footfalls just outside the crack of the open bedroom door.

"Hi, honey," you murmur when you meet his iced-over gaze, eyes squinted as he scans the room, sees all the more petals that surround the bed and, namely, you.

You add, "Tough day?" even though you know that, yes, it was a tough day. It's evident with how his eyes are sunken in just-so, barely enough to be obvious but so clear to you, his beloved.

He nods, because he cannot lie to you.

"C'mere, Wrio." You hold out your arms in a welcoming gesture, smiling softly up at his approaching figure. He towers over you, now, with the way he's standing at the edge of the bed; but his eyes are already hazey-tired, hazey-aroused, and they're so open and vulnerable, already, just for you.

With a heavy sigh, he sets a knee next to you to attempt to straddle you, to climb into your lap. However, you take hold of his waist—which he readily relinquishes his control for, letting you manhandle him—and swing him around, placing him with on his back, square in the middle of the comforter.

Running your hands across his abdomen, you land at his collar and lean down for a kiss. "Let me take care of you," you murmur against his lips. "Okay?"

He huffs, tries to put up the semblance of a fight, but nonetheless he acquiesces. "Okay," he says, and you're upon him.

Each piece of clothing is stripped from him, revealing inch by inch of pale, scarred skin, kissing each part of him. He's tense beneath you, and you set it upon yourself, too, to make him positively melt.

It takes you minutes to bare him to you entirely, and, the second his briefs are stripped from his legs, he presses his hips up.

"Please," he asks, sweet but tired.

"You don't need to beg, sweet thing," you murmur, hot breath fanning across his cunt, already shimmeringly-wet in the low light. "I got you, pretty."

He starts to reply, but the words are caught on his tongue when you begin to kiss at—lick at—his cock. Instead, Wriothesley can only whine, breathy little exhales pitched high and reedy.

However, as you begin to suckle at him, you find yourself in a conundrum; rather unfortunately, really, is that talking is so difficult while your tongue is laving against him.

To remedy that, you lean back—leaving him only a gentle, suckling kiss to his jutting cock—from him, just enough to nudge your finger into his leaking hole. The new angle lets you continue to blow him as you press against his g-spot in slow, grinding thrusts; all the while, your mouth is free to lick all over him with enough give to speak.

"You taste divine," you murmur, the words each puncuated by a sharp thrust of your fingers. Wriothesley mumbles something, but you suck harshly at him, and he's immediately quieted. He sighs, instead, pressing up into your mouth and shivering when the vibrations of your words, your own lips, send shivers up his spine and down his legs.

"You work so hard, honey," you continue sweetly, tonguing at him, at the sparse space between the two fingers you've got worked into his cunt. "It pays off well, doesn't it? Lettin' me blow you like this, yeah?" He nods desperately, soft cries crawling from his chest as you chuckle against the slick heat of him. "Sound so delictable.

"Thank you for letting me hear you, sweetness. I cherish every sound, every thing you could ever give me; oh, and you give me so much, don't you?" You roll your tongue around the head of his cock, delighting in its heft. "I'm so lucky to have you, Wriothesley. God, I can't believe you let me have you."

He cries out rather abruptly, and his thighs attempt to close in on your head. While you'd normally welcome it—revel in it, even—, you don't want to miss him: his noises, his face, him.

"No, no, baby," you coo, gentle, still thrusting and grinding your fingers into him. You lean back from his cock just enough to look him in the eye, to say, "Lie back and relax. You've been so good for me, my good boy; now let me reward you for all that you've done."

Easily, he lets his thighs splay back open as you bring your head back down to his cunt. You can feel the sticky-wetness of him all over you—your chin, your lips, even down to your neck and further down the hand, the wrist, of the fingers you've got buried in him—, and the sweetness on your lips is made ever sweeter the closer and closer he gets to release.

"'m close—" he cries out, chest heaving with the effort of laying still and simply taking it, letting the pleasure course through his veins. The stressors of the day melt away with each lick against his cock, each grind against his g-spot, and he finds himself more and more pulled under by the cotton your loving words fill his head with. "Please, please."

"Cum whenever you're ready, you deserve it." You grin into him when his one hand comes to thread into your hair, desperately scrabbling to ground himself. "You're doing so good, lookin' so gorgeous beneath me. D'ya feel good, baby? I know you do—your pretty cunt is clenching around me.

"'nd I didn't forget about this thick cock of yours, either," you mumble, sloppily blowing him and slickening him up further with your saliva. The sounds are obscene but oh-so arousing. "It's so big, fills my mouth so perfectly. Are you gonna cum for me? Gonna make an even bigger mess of my face?"

He nods, desperate. "Yes, yes—!"

All it takes is a perfectly timed, perfectly aimed grind of your fingers—the pads of your fingertips rubbing against his g-spot in the way he loves, the way that never fails to make him dribble and leak around you—, and a harsh suckle of his cock to make him yell.

(Wriothesley, for all his quiet confidence, is rather loud, in his vulnerability. You wouldn't change that for the world.)

"Perfect, just like that," you coo, sucking him down. "You did so well, so good for me, such a good boy." You gentle your fingers and your tongue to let him calm from his high, tenderly nuzzling into his pelvis.

Beneath you, he chuckles, out of breath. "Thank you," he says, reaching for the hand you have set on his thigh and squeezing it; his other hand loosens from your hair, shakily rubbing at your scalp.

You almost want to purr.

But, "You don't have to thank me, baby," you reply, simple, finding the soft towel you had set aside earlier to wide your face, to wipe away the mess between his thighs and of his cunt. He blushes like mad but lets you kiss him as you clean his oversensitive skin, swallowing up his soft, overstimulated whines. "It's alright, I got you. Let's get you in the bath now, yeah?"

"Yeah," he says, quiet, nodding along dazedly, sleepily. He grabs for a petal, though, wrinkled and made a mess from where Wriothesley had pulled at the sheets. "Where did you get these?"

In lieu of reply, you only grin, shrug. Don't worry about it.

i got carried away ,, thank you smm for the request !! definitely one of my favorites . . . soft cunnilingus ><

9 FEB. 2024, @rosedom, rosey .

#ㅤ✦【 ASKS 】 #if i was fontainian i'd gladly drown in wrio's pssy ! #gn reader #dom reader #genshin smut #sub genshin #genshin x reader #sub wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #smut does not feel like a real word anymore . #trans nsft

[incorrectbatfam]

The batfam as teacher comment section in report card.

Dick: Mr. Grayson brings a contagious energy to the class and his enthusiasm is well-appreciated. However, he tends to channel that energy very physically and while that may benefit his learning, it's a disruption to other students. This is a frequently recurring issue that I would like to discuss with a parent or guardian.

Translation – Is this kid ADHD because he won't sit the FUCK down

Jason: Mr. Todd has displayed remarkable attention to detail and a love of literature that I can only attribute to positive reinforcement at home, and he's always a pleasure to have in class. As much as I appreciate seeing him apply his lessons outside of school hours, I believe there are more productive avenues of discussing Shakespearean playwriting with his peers than what he has been reportedly doing. 

Translation – Stop biting your thumb at people

Tim: Mr. Drake continues to exceed expectations in his schoolwork, but his attendance and participation may become a detriment to his overall grades if unaddressed. I have caught him sleeping in class on multiple occasions but he has yet to provide me a reason why he is so tired. Additionally, last month one of our monitors caught him loitering in the bathroom with a note that I did not recall writing. 

Translation – Get some sleep and also you can't make your own hall passes

Damian: I have had the privilege of teaching the Wayne family through my decades at this institution and I believe that Damian takes after his father the most in more ways than expected. His grades are stellar and he is well-organized, but I'm noticing familiar and concerning traits in his attitude and social interactions. I am requesting a meeting with his parent to understand the full context so I can devise a plan for out how to best support him. 

Translation – Forget falling, the apple is still on the damn tree

Duke: Mr. Thomas has been a pleasure to have in my chemistry lab and is always willing to help classmates who are struggling. However, after last week's minor combustion reaction mishap, I think it would be worthwhile to review the lab safety packet that all students received at the beginning of the year. 

Translation – How did you set water on fire

Cullen: Mr. Row displays a passion for transformative literature and demonstrates a clear understanding of modern media culture that has helped him synthesize a lot of our complex readings. However, I'm concerned about his laptop being a distraction, especially with numerous incidences of him looking at non-academic material.  

Translation – Quit reading fanfics in class

Stephanie: You should be pleased to know that Miss Brown consistently keeps the well-being of her peers in mind. This semester, she launched a meal initiative for students whose needs could not be met by the school cafeteria. While we value her good intentions, she has been causing hallway obstructions and there are some regulatory concerns that we need to discuss. 

Translation – She sold pancakes in the halls without a permit

Cassandra: Although Miss Cain is relatively quiet in class, she continues to blow me away with her breadth of knowledge not just on class materials, but also interpersonal details. While this is a good skill to cultivate, we ask that she dial it back especially with our faculty. Additionally, please remember that the teacher's lounge is a staff-only space and students should remain in the common areas. 

Translation – She knows too much

Barbara: Miss Gordon is easily one of the best AP Computer Science students I've seen in my twenty years of teaching. She even went above and beyond the scope of our class to apply what we've learned to a greater school context. While that is deserving of credit, I'd also like to remind her that, in the future, certain ideas should be subjected to careful consideration before actions are taken. 

Translation – She hacked the lunch menu to make every day French Fry Friday 

Harper: Miss Row has a remarkable aptitude for the engineering process that exceeds beyond what students her age can typically grasp, and she is very inventive in her own right. That being said, I would appreciate it if she followed our lesson plans more closely and reviewed our guidelines for woodshop safety so everyone can continue to have a positive experience.

Translation – She made a working crossbow out of popsicle sticks

Carrie: Miss Kelley is a bright student who brings positive energy that is very much needed, especially in morning classes. However, she's been falling behind with several missing assignments at this point, and her explanations for why she cannot finish her work don't seem to be sufficient. 

Translation – "Killer Croc ate my homework" Yeah and I'm Batman

Kate: Miss Kane seems to be very eager to move forward to the next stage of her life, as evidenced by her Career Day presentation. While I believe young people should be free to explore their passions, I also think that Kate would benefit from some workshops outlining more feasible options. 

Translation – "Get bitches" isn't a career goal

Alfred: Mr. Pennyworth is easily one of the best students this institution has seen, both in his academic record and extracurricular activities. He recently expressed interest in the sharpshooting team, which I will not discourage him from, seeing how highly accurate he is. As of this year, I will be retiring as the coach for the team, but I wish him all the best.

Translation – I'm not about to get on his bad side

Selina: Miss Kyle's resourcefulness continues to astound me. Earlier in the semester, she forgot her locker combination and quickly improvised a mechanism to safely unlock it using only the materials around her. The speed and accuracy with which she did that will surely benefit her in the future. 

Translation – Did... did she just pick a lock with another lock?

Bruce: No further comments. 

Translation – whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck—

#dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #cullen row #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #barbara gordon #harper row #carrie kelley #kate kane #alfred pennyworth #selina kyle #bruce wayne #batman #batfam #batfamily #batboys #batbros #batgirls #batkids #batsiblings #batman family #dc comics #headcanon #tw swearing #tw food mention #ask #anonymous

[ferris-the-wheel]

TWST relationship headcanons!!

Info: Six months after you start dating the respective character.

Author's note: The characters were chosen by a friend at random (with no context). I'm also still on Chapter 6 of the main storyline and don't know much about the main Diasomnia characters' pasts, so these hcs will take place before then, I guess?

TW: Maybe a tiny bit of angst(?)

When you two first started dating, he was so happy that he couldn't sleep. He was actually surprised to find that he hadn't randomly fallen asleep during the day as he normally did.

After that, he'd spend a lot of time around you, concluding that it was because of you that he didn't fall asleep.

Since he's basically the adopted brother of Malleus, he undoubtedly has at least some money. He likes to buy you surprise gifts so that he can see you smile. which makes him happier as well.

He invites you over to Diasomnia a lot (encouraged by Lilia), which he's perfectly fine with as, as stated earlier, he likes spending time with you.

His favorite pastime is sitting somewhere where you two can see the stars at night like a balcony or somewhere where there are a lot of windows (though he prefers being outside).

He's such a good boyfriend, I mean, he was raised and trained as a knight. If someone is giving you trouble, expect Silver to give them a very stern talking to (with or without Malleus beside him as incentive).

He's a very calm and comforting presence, making you feel better if you're feeling down and cheering you up.

I don't think he'd mind PDA, but I feel like he'd be a bit more reserved with it, so he'd settle for holding hands while you're walking or stuff like that.

He's very pleased that you agreed to date him, but also very sad. He feels like a bad person because he knows that by dating you, you'll eventually grow old and die while he'll live on. He thinks he's depriving you of a "normal life" with another human.

You've worked very hard to convince him that he's the one you want to be with and that you don't want anyone else.

He spoils you A LOT. He'll splurge a shit ton of money on fancy dates, gifts, and other things. He spoils you to the point where you have almost no empty floor space in your room, so you had to ask him to stop spending so much on you (though you felt bad about this because of the expression on his face).

Aside from that, he's extremely loyal to you. Despite your reassurances, he thinks that at least if he's going to deprive you of a mortal love, then he's going to pride himself in being the most loyal boyfriend (hopefully husband later) ever.

He's very happy that Lilia approves of you and that you two get along. He enjoys walking in on you two hanging out and genuinely appreciating each others' company. He's also very grateful that you help prevent kitchen disasters by monitoring babysitting Lilia while he's "cooking".

I don't really think he'd exactly know what PDA is or what qualifies as PDA, so he'd just walk up to you and either a) act as normal or b) be a bit affectionate such as a kiss (on the lips or cheek, he doesn't care) or he'd wrap his arm around you. If you aren't a fan though, he'd refrain from doing so.

His personality made it very hard for you to trust him in the beginning, as he's very sly, but you eventually learned to trust him more. He'd be happy if you were rich but he'd empathize if you weren't. He doesn't care if you have a lot of money a lot, as he definitely isn't rich either.

If you give him something (especially food), he'll be extremely happy. He'll be even happier if you give him enough to feed his community back home. Give him some donuts and he'll be in heaven, literally wondering what a crook like him did to deserve someone like you (just for giving him donuts).

He may feel bad dating you since you can give him things like food and other presents while he can't really afford to buy things for you or take you anywhere. He does extra tasks for Leona in exchange for money, but you wouldn't let him spend it on you and told him to save it or give it to the people back home.

Therefore, he shows his love by hugs, stealing quick kisses on your cheek, goofing around, and snuggling (if one of you is in the mood). He'll randomly grab your hand while you're walking or carry things for you in the hallways, little things like that.

I think he'd be impartial toward PDA, he'd base it off of your preferences. If you aren't a fan of PDA, he'd dial it down to when it's just the two of you. If you like PDA or don't mind it, he'd be doing the things above (cheek kisses, hand grabbing, hugs, etc.).

How you managed to even talk to this dude in person, that's a mystery. You probably met on the internet and wound up meeting that way. But now that you're in his life, good luck trying to get out. He isn't used to people showing any form of affection toward him (or human interaction in general), so once you become what he considers a friend, he's not letting you go easily.

Once you start dating? Oh yeah, you are never getting rid of him. Not to say he's clingy (that's a lie, he's a bit clingy), but he'd be texting you constantly wanting to know if you want to game or Netflix and chill.

He's not exactly a romantic but you don't mind (or hopefully you don't if you're dating Idia). He isn't a big fan of physical touch, so quality time is likely the way to go. I hc that he's a very snuggly person despite this, when he's in the mood. I think he's a little spoon (he's too awkward to be big spoon).

He's like, the most loyal guy ever (I mean, he never goes anywhere and doesn't talk to almost anyone). You would never have to worry about unfaithfulness with this guy, he's wayyyyy too attached to you now that you've infiltrated his little gamer den (and his heart).

PDA? Banish the thought from your mind. This is Idia, he doesn't leave his room unless absolutely necessary. If you wanted any PDA from him, you'd have to fight all the phantoms in Tartarus/the Underworld (and maybe not even then) for him to want to do anything like PDA. If PDA is a must on your list, Idia is not your guy.

Hiii! How you guys doing? I hope you enjoyed this post. I'll post part 2 innn..... three? four days? Hope you don't mind. You can send whatever requests you want (as long as they follow my rules)! Bye~~!!! 🧡

#disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twst #twst malleus #twst silver #twst ruggie #twst idia #malleus x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland malleus #ruggie bucchi #twisted wonderland ruggie #ruggie x reader #silver twst #silver twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland idia #idia shroud #idia headcanons #idia x reader #ruggie headcanons #malleus headcanons #silver headcanons #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia headcanons #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie bucchu headcanons #idia shroud x reader #idia shroud headcanons

[marleyybluu]

Thinkin’ Bout You

Spooky Diaz x fem!reader

Word count: 1.2k

Content warning: 18+, gets a little hot at the end, overall fluff and mush, everyone’s in love and high, reader smokes weed, reader described to have thick thighs (of course tf), pretty sure I'm missing some sorry

A/N: I took a break from my break to post this lol I was gonna leave this as a stand-alone(it can still be read as such) but honestly? it’s giving two and counting lore… so I’ll put it as a part of that series.

(not mine, got it off pinterest but awooogaa!)

Friday. What a glorious day to be off work. You slept in, hell you'd say you deserved putting up all those work hours at the hospital, and after finally crawling out of bed you rolled a small joint for the morning, and smoked it on the balcony outside your bedroom. The neighbourhood was quiet, the air was crisp and a bit cold but it's nothing one of Spooky's sweaters couldn't fix. You wrap your arms around you, the sweater is warm and it smelt like his cologne, you close your eyes and smile at just the mere thought of him. You always think about him it was crazy how one man consumed your entire being but you were so glad it was him.

You wished he was home, wished he was here to smoke with you but he got called into work earlier than usual, you didn't even get a goodbye kiss which you were missing right now, the vacancy of those lips— soft as a cloud and always on top of yours so delicately— depending on the context of course.

Without him here the day seemed to pass on slower, you checked the time what seemed like every ten minutes which also didn't help. To distract yourself you clean and cook, call your mom until she is ready to, quote, "Go and do her own thing." And hung up on you.

You lay upside down on the couch, feet crossed as they hang over the back of the couch and your head hangs off the seat cushions, Living Single reruns consumed your screen. You were well distracted until you heard a car door slam and various keys jingling together, you sat up and gripped the back of the couch for dear life.

The lock turns. The door opens. And there he is. You scream with excitement. "Hi, babyyyyy."

He chuckles, not even ten seconds inside and you already had him smiling. "Hola mi corazón."

You roll off the sofa and run over to your man, leaping and wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. He squeezes you so tightly you swear he'd crack a few bones but in the name of love, you wouldn't care. You pepper his face with kisses before you finally land on his lips and you mould into him, his hands firmly grasping your ass that barely fits in your shorts.

He smiles in the middle of your kiss and it's an instant chain reaction. "Missed me that much?"

"You have no idea."

He gives you another small kiss before he puts you down and you fight the urge to pout and demand to be picked back up, you just want to live in his skin 24/7, but you let him catch his breath. Let him put away his things, grab a Corona while you ogle him and the way his enormous arms flexed when he twisted the cap off and the foaming bubbles sliding their way to the top... almost spilling over... but then he saves it with tongue. You lick your bottom lip and zoom in on the involuntarily sexual act, oh, and the way his Adam's apple bobbed with every sip... fuck.

"Bebita," He calls. You slowly nod, still in your love-stricken daze. "You're droolin' a little bit ma."

You rub your chin and frown at him, there is no drool. He winks at you and you turn your face to the side to avoid any more butterflies in your stomach. "You smoke already?"

You nod. "Wanna smoke again or you good?" He sat his blunt, which magically appeared from his jeans, between his lips and nodded to the back door. "Nah, I'll smoke with you."

"Good, vamos."

••••• Your head lays in his lap, his hand cupped your cheek and his thumb caressed your skin. After you two smoked, you ate and had a blissfully shared shower, now you were sprawled out on the sofa still high as fuck watching Bridget Jones's Diary, he remembered you uttered something about wanting to watch a rom-com for once. You were in the mood to watch a love story, "or something."

But you were hardly paying attention to the screen, so lost in your own world of love, you pinch his chin aiming his at an angle so he'd look down at you. Make eye contact.

"Do you think about me?" A question asked so innocently. "Course I do, baby."

You run your finger down the column of his neck, over the lump of his Adam's apple. "What do you think about?"

He pauses the movie and focuses on you. "What's this about?"

"Nothing."

"You pregnant?"

You hit him. "Spooky! No!" He was obsessed with the idea of a baby. "Just answer my question."

He sighs, nostrils flair, he hated telling his deepest feelings but, "I think about you... and me, and what our life could be like. We could get married, could have a couple of kids. I always thought about gettin' like a summer house or something. Hit it every summer with them."

You smiled. "You think about all that?"

"Fuck yeah. I see us dropping them off on their tío, he watches them... we still get to have some us time, dates, trips...whatever you want."

You swear he makes you fall in love with him all over again at least once a week. "You think I haven't pictured the wedding? I know what I'll say in my vows already."

"Liar," You teased.

"Mi amor, the day I saw you-"

You quickly cover his mouth it'd be like spoiling a movie you hadn't seen yet. He licked your palm but you were quick to wipe it on his face. "Puta." He muttered. "Bastardo." You retaliated. "So how many kids do we have?" You sit up and adjust yourself so that you are now sitting with your back against the support of the couch and drape your legs over his thighs, the cold metal of his rings hits your hot skin when his hand contacts your leg. "Five."

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" You exclaim. "I've seen childbirth live and I think we can have one and a dog." He rolls his eyes. "Fine, whatever."

He leans over to kiss your forehead. "You think about me?"

"Once in a while." You joke, his jaw drops. "Once in a while!? That's how you feel? Ay, cariño, you're breaking mi corazón."

You place your hand over his and offer him a side smile before you kiss his cheek. "The way I jumped on you when you came home isn't proof enough."

He pulls you on top of him, your legs now sitting on each side of him with his hands gleefully squeezing every pound of flesh that makes up your thunder thighs that spread every time you sit and it makes him call them pancakes sometimes. "I might need a refresher."

"Oh, getting short-term memory already, Diaz?" You hum pressing your lips to his. "Just a little bit." He answers. Your hands fumble with the bottom of his shirt, he raises his arms and you break the kiss for just a second before you're back with tongues in each others throats and you're making out as if you're life depended on it, as if he's being shipped off to war and you don't know if he's coming back. Now it was your turn to pull back in need of some air. His smile is shaky, almost like a shy expression.

"Still kinda hazy."

You rid yourself of your top, with nothing under it.

"Oh don't worry," You lean in. "I'm about to make it real clear."

Not tagging anyone in this, I'm just testing something. if you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic, reblogs and comments are appreciated. peace and love, see you in the next one🤙🏾

#on my block #spooky fanfic #fluff #on my block fanfic #marleywrites #marleysfanfictions #spooky #spooky fanfiction #spooky x reader

[irrealisms]

diptych || a c!crimeboys web weave

[sources and IDs under cut]

The first collage is a collection of 14 images.

Image 1: A human hands a raccoon a gun. It is the same image CC!Wilbur sent CC!Tommy with the caption "Me passing the dirty crime boy title to you."

Image 2: Question 4 of 15 Do you love your brother? Answers, please choose 1

Image 3: WILBUR: This isn't just a silly river delta to me anymore, it's got a name, it's got a story, it's— it's L’Manberg, and it's … to me it's, it's you.

Image 4: A painting of Cain and Abel. Cain holds a club in one hand and Abel's wrist in the other as they walk forward. While it is in the background and mostly covered by the other images, their faces and hands are visible.

Image 5: Question 5 of 15 Liar. You feel guilty, don't you? Answers, please choose 1

Image 6: A screenshot from The Fall by SAD-ist. Wilbur has his hand on Tommy's shoulder and is leaning forward to speak to him. Tommy looks anxious.

Image 7: "Am I my brother's keeper?"

Image 8: A piece of paper pinned to the wall, reading "Someone is looking up to you. Don't let that person down." In the context of the collage, it is pinned onto Wilbur's sleeve/upper arm from the SAD-ist screenshot.

Image 9: Question 6 of 15 But you're the one that left him. Answers, please choose 1 [check mark next to the selected answer] I wanted to and I wanted it to hurt him so he could let go of me.

Image 10: WILBUR: I’m glad, Tommy! You know what, I’m glad! Because me and you were never good for that server. We just weren’t!

Image 11: When I close my eyes I'm climbing in the dark Trying not to fall apart Sometimes I get so high Falling is the only out I see And I don't wanna take you down with me

Image 12: a softer world comic. the text reads "At my worst, I worry you'll realize/you deserve better./At my best, I worry you won't."

Image 13: Question 7 of 15 Do you think your brother loves you? Answers, please choose 1

Image 14: WILBUR: Tommy, come over here, please, I— Tommy, I was scared I wouldn’t see you again if you didn’t forgive me. And I didn’t want to not see you again.

The second image is a collage of 11 images.

Image 1: WILBUR: You love it, don’t you, Tommy? You love… L’Manberg…

Image 2: a softer sea comic. the text reads "You're my brother and I love you./That's it./No punchline."

Image 3: A painting of two men standing next to each other. they look similar. the one on the right puts his hand flat above both of their heads, sheltering them; the one on the left has his hand up to touch the hand of the one on the right. the painting is titled My Brother's Keeper.

Image 4: I will stand in the dark for you I will hold you back by force I will stand here right outside your door I won’t see you disgraced I will protect your name and your heart Because I miss my friend

Image 5: A screenshot from Final Waltz by SAD-ist. Wilbur has his hand on Tommy's shoulder. Tommy looks up at him.

Image 6: In essence, the entire Bible is written as an affirmative response to this question.

Image 7: TOMMY: I believe that everyone’s got a little bit of good in them. And I know that Wilbur had good in him. Alright?

Image 8: This is no garden. This is my brother and I need a shovel to love him.

Image 9: A collage of an open book with forests, butterflies, etc. the text reads: i care for you still and i will forever.

Image 10: A painting of two young boys wading in the ocean and holding hands. The smaller one has spiderman swim trunks.

Image 11: TOMMY: It’s not about chances, Foolish. It’s about making sure you don’t give up on the people you care about.

#mcyt #dsmp #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #crimeboys #c!tommy #c!wilbur #c!crimeboys #wilbur #tommy #web weaving #web weave #collage #my edit

[liloinkoink]

here's another minimal context scene from that beauty and the beast au. this one's from real late in the plot, but i think it'll make... enough sense? it'll at least sound cool

here are the other two scenes i've posted: Ren gets cursed and the knife scene, both of which come earlier in the plot

The last day of Martyn’s life is beautiful. 

The sky is bright, finally. Uncertain sunlight stretches its first warm rays across winter-hardened ground, casting the illusion of spring through the window. Martyn knows better, of course—unable to feel the sunlight through the bars of his cell, all he has to work with is the blistering winter wind, a biting cold that the sunlight has not yet chased away. 

The deceptive warmth is a bit on the nose, Martyn thinks, but maybe he doesn’t have enough time for anything but the most unsubtle of metaphors. 

Ren had been working with Scar. Weeks of hiding out at Ren’s castle, and the whole time, Ren had been planning to turn Martyn in for his own execution. Weeks Martyn spent clearing the crumbling stone, rotting wood, dusty corners of that place, making it livable again. Weeks he’d wasted in Ren’s care, eating his food, finding comfort at his fireplace, sleeping at his side. He’d believed in Ren, and Ren had been planning to betray him all along. 

Martyn really should have killed him when he’d had the chance. Maybe, if he’d been fast enough, Ren would never have been able to call for Scar at all. 

Maybe Martyn should have stopped to think why Ren was cursed in the first place. Maybe he should have considered Ren might have deserved it. 

Watching the sunlight prod the dead grass isn’t enough to distract Martyn from the sound of footsteps, though he pretends not to hear them until they stop right outside his cell. 

“Why, hello there!” Scar’s voice is as friendly as ever, which is to say so thick with syrupy cheer Martyn’s teeth hurt just listening to him. “Beautiful day out, isn’t it? Are you excited to enjoy the day? Stretch your legs?”

“Aren’t you supposed to offer me a last meal? Even your dog was a better host than this,” Martyn bites. Scar laughs. 

“Oh, I don’t know about that! I’ve given you such lovely accommodations.” Scar grins, sounding quite proud of himself, and Martyn sighs. 

“A real five star establishment,” Martyn turns, glaring, “Look, whatever gloating you’re going to do, just get it over with. Is this where you tell me I should never have gone against your rule? Or that Ren is going to be in the audience to help drive home the point? I’m already—“

“What? Ren, in the audience?” Scar asks. He’s amused, his eyes shining with undisguised glee. 

“Yeah, what?” Martyn asks. 

“Nothing, nothing, I just realized something really funny about you two, is all,” Scar says. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Martyn asks. 

“Nothing! Nothing, it’s part of his curse. Didn’t he tell you? And here I thought he trusted you!” Scar says, aghast. “He’s a dog, Martyn, you can’t let those go without some kind of leash. He’s fenced in, just as any responsible person would do.”

“He’s what?” Martyn asks, and with startling clarity Martyn remembers a hundred moments of Ren sitting just inside the gate, waiting for Martyn to return from the woods just outside the bounds of the castle. He’d stopped at the gate when Martyn had fled, too, pacing back and forth inside the entryway. Martyn gasps, “Ren can’t leave the grounds.”

“Oh, you got it!” Scar says. Martyn narrows his eyes. 

“Why would he tell that to you?” Martyn asks. Scar leans in towards the bars, grinning. It isn’t wide, but it’s all teeth, perfectly white. 

“He really didn’t tell you? Maybe I didn’t need to be worried about you two,” Scar says, “It’s starting to sound like Ren didn’t trust you at all.”

“Shut up,” Martyn snaps, “If he can’t leave, how did he contact you?”

“Hm… Well, that’s the thing…” Scar hums, stroking his chin with one hand, “I wouldn’t say he contacted me, so much as that I was around and decided to pay my friend a visit.”

“Ren didn’t turn me in,” Martyn repeats, “You were lying. That whole— how much of that did you lie about? Was he even working with you at all?”

“Ren and I haven’t worked together in some time,” Scar admits, feigning sadness, “My poor friend, stuck in that old castle, wasting away under that unbreakable curse.”

“Friend, huh?” Martyn asks. He’s trying to sound mocking, but he thinks he might just sound afraid. “Is that a lie, too?”

“Ren and I were great friends! Up until someone cursed him to take the form of a loyal dog, forced to sit and wait at home until someone actually put as much faith into him as he did them.” Scar says, wiping away a dry tear, “It’s too bad, though. That big, trusting heart of his… No one’s ever going to match it, not in this world. He’ll be in that kennel forever, waiting for someone to respect a dog as though he were a person.”

Martyn sits up. 

“You cursed him,” Martyn says. It’s not a question. 

Scar absolutely beams. 

“I was starting to get worried, actually. I felt the curse weakening, so I went up to see what had happened with Ren. The fact it was my runaway rat who had pitied him was just a lucky break, but the fact that on top of that, you’d even left the bounds of Ren’s protection? Lady Luck must really like me!” Scar brags. He sighs, crossing his arms. 

“You absolute basta—“ Martyn starts, hopping to his feet. 

“But,” Scar barrels right over him, “It doesn’t seem like I needed to worry about anything. Not even that naive old dog trusted you.” 

With that, Scar takes a step back from the cell, smiling as bright as always. 

“Well,” Scar says, “Thank you for the lovely talk, Martyn. I’ll see you later tonight!”

Martyn doesn’t bother to watch him leave. He looks back to the window, through the bars and into the courtyard. He can’t see the forest from here—can’t see anything for the walls surrounding the whole castle. 

He’s never going to see Ren again, and it’s his own damn fault. Why would he believe a pathological liar over Ren? If Scar had come any other time, if Martyn hadn’t already been jumping to conclusions just because he’d overheard— he’s never going to see Ren again, and the last thing they’ll ever have done together is argue. 

For whatever little it’s worth, he knows now who he trusts. 

—---—

Somewhere at the edge of the forest, Ren falls flat on his face. 

This is the last step in a process, though. The process begins like this: 

The barrier of Ren’s curse is unbreakable, unyielding, but that doesn’t stop him from trying. He’s been scratching at it since Scar and his men disappeared over the horizon, Martyn in chains among them. His paws bleed, a few of his claws casualty to his desperation, but the barrier stays. Ren stays, his eyes locked on the path down the hill, pleading for something he knows he’ll never see.

Somewhere in the world, Ren is trusted.

Ren’s fur falls out in patches. The claws—the ones left, anyway—disappear next, and then his ears twitch for the last time, vanishing into his hair. His face changes, muzzle shrinking, body shuddering as the rest of him follows. 

The tail disappears at the same moment as the barrier, and this is when Ren pitches forward into the dirt. He hits hard ground, and what shocks him most is how cold it is—suddenly, Ren is freezing.

He scrambles up onto his elbows, tugging his cloak closer to himself. When he looks down, it’s not to thick fur—Ren finds himself staring at human arms. Perhaps a bit hairier than he remembered, sure, but pale pink, with fingers and thumbs ending in short, dirty nails. 

“Oh, my god,” Ren whispers. His mouth stretches in shapes unfamiliar, a face almost too short. He licks the inside of his mouth and finds all the teeth inside perfectly regular, devoid of the long canines that have dominated his smiles for the last few years. 

He’s human. The barrier is gone. The curse is broken. Ren can do… anything, really. Everything he’s put on hold, anything he’s dreamed while pacing the halls. The world is open to him once again, and he has all the money and power and freedom to find anything he’d like. He could take back the stolen throne. He could seek out revenge on Scar. He could take a walk out into the forest, simply because the barrier wouldn’t stop him.

There’s only one thing he needs, though. One which he knows needs him, too. 

Ren shoves himself to his feet and runs back inside. There’s got to be something he can wear in one of these rooms. He can’t be too picky, though—he has somewhere to be, and he’s already late.

#lew writes #lew library #big dog au #top hits

[moonmeg]

Layout for next comic done, head empty only Breeil scenario once again - this time not in comic form!

TW// body insecurity (negativity), implied eating disorder

"Bree, what's the matter?"

"Look at me!", she freed herself from his arms, "Look at my chest, my arms, my legs, my stomach! How can ye think I'm pretty when I'm not as thin as I used to be?! How can ye love me when I look like this?!"

Neil stared at her. He didn't understand what she meant, where this was coming from. He never gave her reason to doubt his adoration for her - so he thought at least. Breena kept avoiding his eyes and quickly turned her back to him, hiding herself and her body from the man she loved. The thought that he will leave her now that her body is so different tortured her. She didn't want him to leave. Neil was the best thing to happen to her...

"Bree, you are beautiful to me. And I mean that wi' all my heart. A few additional pounds willna change that. Especially not because that's more than natural in yer circumstances."

"My circumstances?", she turned her head in his direction slightly.

"Aye, yer pregnancy. Ye're growing a person inside o' ya, love. Of course yer body is changing."

He slowly closed the gap between them and gently brushed a red curl out of her face. He examined her face and noticed her quivering lip and her still avoiding eyes becoming glassy. It's rare he saw his wife so upset and vulnerable. He knew a pregnancy had its impact on the becoming mother's emotionality but something told him there was more to Breena's feelings.

"I'm just wondering, where ye get the idea from that I only love ye when ye're thin? Did I make ye feel like that?", he traced his thumb down her cheek. His voice calm and soft.

"It's not you."

...

"Was it them?"

She closed her eyes and the longer she thought about "them" the more her brows furrowed above her red-brown lashes. "Them" referred to the people that Breena was raised by. She didn't think they were worth the title of "parents". Parents are loving, they're caring and they'd never cause their child to run away from home with 16 because it's become unbearable to live with them. To Breena those two people she had to live with were but merely her creators. That was also what she referred to them as whenever they still influenced her life... like now.

"Titan...", Neil sighed, knowing that he found the reason behind his wife's behavior. Breena's creators barely were a topic in their conversations or a part of their life but whenever they did come up, it was never in good context. "What did they tell you?"

She glanced at her husband. It wasn't long but Neil was happy she had met his eyes finally even if just for a second. It meant she was willing to open up about it to him and she was building up strength to reopen a part from that chapter of her life that she actually long had closed and desperately wanted to seal and lock away. It was hard for her. He knew that.

Caressing his palms over her arms until he reached her hands and curling his fingers around them, he let her take her time. His thumb carefully ran across her knuckles - back and forth. It was his way of reassuring her. He's here. He's listening. She has all his attention. She's not alone.

Breena squeezed his hand as she took a breath. She hated that she troubled him with her problems of the past. She learned to keep her frustration to herself and in fear of bothering people dear to her never let them out. Communication never worked in her home, why should it work outside of it? Of course, Breena never would've bothered her friends nor is she bothering Neil or her newly found family-in-law with her feelings. But unfortunately old habits break hard.

"Ever since I was a lass, no older than 6, I was told that my appearance is the most important thing I have to offer. If I'm not pretty and a certain weight, I dinna deserve affection or... love. Nobody wants me if I'm not thin. Nobody would think me worthy. If I'm not in the image of my creators, I'll be lonely til my last days. So I...", she paused, taking a shaky breath, "...I always tried to fit in that expectation. Whenever I didna fit it, I was called worthless, ugly and denied food. Whenever I did fit, I was praised... at least one thing I did right."

"Oh, mo gaol...", Neil whispered, "I'm so sorry."

He squeezes her trembling hand tightly. That was the reason behind her eating habits, he finally figured. She barely ate, only small portions if any at all, and his mother and himself were always trying to get her to eat more but without much success. With the pregnancy she had started eating more at last but she always felt bad afterwards and apologized for eating so much and would deny herself food "to make up for it". He had theorized there was a reason to it but he never wanted to push her to talk about it.

"They're so wrong.", he cupped her face and leaned his forehead on hers, "Ye're worthy of love no matter what yer body looks like and no matter what ye weigh. I love you regardless. I always will."

"Ye will?", she hicced.

"Aye. I asked ye to marry me because I dinna want to live a life wi'out ye. Bree, ye are so much more than yer looks. I'm sorry yer creators told you such terrible lies and treated ye so horribly. I only wish we had met sooner so that I could've proven them wrong and given you the love and affection that ye deserve earlier."

Breena sniffed as his thumbs caught her tears. She buried her face in his palm and gave her emotions uncontrolled freedom. Sobbing she threw herself onto her husband's chest, clenching his shirt. Instinctively, Neil wrapped his arms around her back, securing her in that position.

"Neil, I-"

"Shh. There's nothing more for you to say.", he turned his face to press a kiss to her temple. He held her for a while, let her cry, comforted her by brushing through her curls. "I can only imagine how difficult it must've been for ye and how difficult it still is but... if I may, and if ye want to, I will do everything in my power to help ye heal. I'm here."

She pulled away from his chest to look at him. Cracking a smile she was the one to cup his face now. "I am so lucky and thankful to have ye."

"Aye.", he smiled back adoringly, "And I'm afraid ye're stuck wi' me 'until death do us part'."

Breena chuckled at him quoting their vows. She brushed a brown lock behind his ear before she met his golden eyes once again, gazing at her as if she was a deity and the only thing he cared about. She never knew what love really felt like but when Neil was with her, looking at her, wrapping her tightly in his arms, kissing her and smiling at her, she was sure to have found it. And she was willing to allow him to help her actually heal and actually, at last, close the chapter of her past.

"I can live wi' that."

#breena bower #neil bower #toh ocs #tdaac #not main story related #tw: body insecurity #tw: eating disorder

[explorevenus]

How about 🎆 for the Yandere!Leon Ask Game? 👀 Also congrats on the 1k you deserve it!!!!!!!!!!!! Your work is so good. 💜💜

NEXYS THANK U I LOVE U SO VERY VERY MUCH AAAA!!!!!!!!!!!

i hope this is good, ily ;w;

context for those of u who are just joining us-- this is part of an emoji ask game where i write a yandere!leon blurb based on emojis in celebration of 1k followers !! requests for this game are closed now, although my ask box is always open for yandere!leon brainrot rambles <33 love y'all and thanks for participating!! i will be slowly working through the rest of the emojis already in my ask box <3

tags/warnings - yandere!leon kennedy, fem!reader, reader is in captivity, leon is delusional, other than that nothing !!

blurb below the cut <33

It was New Year's, ten minutes to midnight.

While your friends and family were no doubt gathering for parties, drinking champagne and counting down the minutes until they could share a kiss with their lovers into the New Year, you were at Leon's, still in captivity, still not allowed to go outside.

You sighed deeply, thinking of the plans you'd made with your friends months ago, long before Leon had taken you in. You were all going to gather together at one of your friend's apartments, share a bottle of champagne, play games, and go into the New Year as a tighter group. You wondered if they were hanging out without you right now. You wondered if your absence was killing the vibe.

"What're you thinking about, princess?" Leon asked from behind you, running his fingers through your hair.

"It's New Year's," You spoke softly, staring blankly at the wall. "I was supposed to be with my friends today."

He hummed softly, leaning forward to kiss your neck sweetly. "I'm sorry, princess. That's a bummer, huh?"

You nodded. It was almost laughable how indifferent he was to your feelings sometimes.

"It's a good thing you have me then," He continued, lips ghosting along your warm skin. "We can go outside, watch the fireworks, share a kiss at midnight… How does that sound, pup?"

Despite your internal struggle, it did sound kind of nice. Normal. Something you really needed right now, a reminder of what it felt like to be normal. You turned over your shoulder to look at him. "Okay… sure. I-I'd like that."

He softly kissed the top of your head, humming contently. "Good. Put on a jacket, princess, it's cold outside," He said, and while his words sounded like a suggestion, his tone sounded like a command.

You nodded blankly, reaching for the first jacket you could find in the closet before taking his hand, letting him lead you out of the room and to the backyard. It was pretty cold outside, he wasn't wrong about that-- the biting December air felt good, sobering on your skin. Still, you subconsciously huddled to his side for warmth.

"What's your resolution?" He asked, voice cutting through the silence.

"Huh?" You tilted your head, a little caught of guard by his question.

"Your New Year's resolution, sweetheart," He repeated somewhat condescendingly. "Do you have one?"

Admittedly, you hadn't put much thought into it. Obviously your energy was better spent elsewhere as of late. You hummed in thought for a moment before coming up with an answer you thought would please him. "I don't know… I guess I'd like to take better care of myself this year… What about you?"

Leon smiled, planting a kiss to the top of your head. "To take better care of you," He answered honestly. "My pretty little princess… I just want to take better care of you."

You could hardly begin to imagine what he meant by that. It wasn't always clear to tell what he considered 'good care.' Still, it was a sweet response. You gave him a weak smile, turning to look up at the sky. Any minute fireworks would undoubtedly begin popping off around the city.

Leon kept one hand on the small of your back as he checked his watch. It was 11:59 p.m. He gently turned you to him, caressing your cheek with his thumb as he gazed into your eyes. You were so pretty, so sweet, and you were all his. What he hadn't told you was he had a second resolution-- to keep you all to himself, to properly train you to be his perfect little dolly. He could almost taste it.

His watch beeped as the clock ticked up to the hour, and almost immediately, an array of distant fireworks began popping and glittering across the sky. Leon guided his face down to yours, whispering lowly, "Happy New Year, princess," before connecting his lips to yours.

#goddess on the mountain top #venustext #venus’ 1k special 💗 #nexys !!! #resident evil #leon kennedy #yandere!leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #yandere!leon kennedy x reader #dark!leon kennedy #dark!leon kennedy x reader #summit of beauty and love

[jack-kellys]

so i am gonna talk abt the delanceys. and i don’t want that to make you scroll away at the speed of light. i want to talk about them in a broader sense, view them in a broader sense, in the way that we talk about jack and his existential need to leave where he is for the west- and, further, going into analysis, like how “the west” in america in the 1890s is a capitalist venture that is sold to jack as this idea of a new home, a better way to live, something that he needs, when the real home is new york with his chosen family and where no one needs to call him “son”.

i think what matters most in the world of the delanceys, and what puts them into a nuanced political stance as well as a personal one, is their father, the striking trolley worker.

i think it’s fair to assume that as a striking worker demanding better wages, as a union member, he deserves those wages. it’s good that he’s striking, that he’s demanding what he’s owed and doing so with his fellow workers. strikers are the right people to support especially based on the historical context of the trolley strike.

but this guy is… an asshole. he dumped these two children into the refuge and left them there to rot, presumably. there’s a possibility he didn’t know about how abusive snyder is, sure, but he knew it was a detention center and that’s not… where u put ur kids when u care abt them lmao.

so this man is a striking trolley worker who doesn’t give a shit about his own children. he’s an underpaid union member who deserves his dues but also lets his two sons suffer for years alone in a children’s jail. he fights the system to his benefit while submitting his two kids into a different one. the dichotomy is important here- it’s essential to the foil the delanceys are for the newsies.

the delanceys are strike breakers. strike breakers are, obviously, paid under the table to disperse union-led strikes and protests to uphold a system that benefits the rich- who of course will always benefit from underpaid work. the delanceys take money from this upheld system when they get the opportunity and beat strikers bloody who don't get to benefit from this system like they do. because they do benefit from that elitist system, since they are choosing to make money off of it outside of their usual job. right.

but within those strikers is their father. the father who left them to rot, who let wiesel scrape them out of that jail and enlist them at a dead-end newspaper gig. so the brothers hate this father, this striker, this piece of family. and this father is making all this noise with these other people- these people who support their father as his coworkers and fellow union members, and the delancey brothers' leave that strike with their fists red with more blood than solely their father's, since they're angry and good at it and the money is hefty.

and their childhood is semi-revenged, but at what ethical cost? they've served broken bones to plenty of workers just trying to fight for their fair pay- something that the delanceys can relate to, by the way, since it isn't like their wages are too stellar for how many hours they're forced to put in. but they put down these people--innocent sans their father--because they have the opportunity. opportunity for them is bringing others down, and when they have the choice, they take it. gladly. "it's honest work" is shrugged off and believed. "i take care of the guy who takes care of me" is snide. uk costuming has them wearing nicer work coats over their newsie-like attire, concealing their similarities and choosing to align themselves more with the elite, since that's...the only protection they can turn to besides each other. the elite gets them extra pay, and keeps them one rung above the newsies to sneer down at them from. they fight via using the system, since systems are all they've ever been apart of, and when they see one that might benefit them for once, they latch onto it.

and, of course, they're strike breaking again, with adult men and their uncle at their side, against their personal foils- the newsies.

the newsies either don't have family like the delanceys, or frequently have to be apart from theirs. lots of them don't have a sibling they can return to daily, or any at all. most don't have parents or family members. or homes to go back to after work. the system they are stuck in is one that does not work for them unless they make it work, making their own numbers and cash by gambling how many papers they can sell in a day to earn every cent back and then some. creating a system within a system--whereas the delanceys mold themselves into one that exists, again, to the elite's benefit--to survive.

and then, the newsies and their chosen family of brothers choose to revolt against their system in an attempt to dismantle it, or at the very least negotiate it.

and the delanceys' reaction to this, to another strike, to a group of kids going against their system (of which would benefit oscar and morris to join, tbh, unless they don't classify as "working kids" of the city, perhaps putting them at around 18 years old...)?

disdain and more snide comments! "not that i'm complaining, my skull busting arm could use a day of rest" "you working, or trespassing?/what's your pleasure?" and putting pressure on scabs to keep with the system- specifically more with uksies, oscar and morris are sort of dusting tommy boy off and whispering to him. trying to split apart the family the newsies have made with each other. and then ofc they beat the actual shit out of the newsies and in uk they have bats they are full on swinging, whole shoulder into it. you did not uphold this system, and it will destroy you for it.

and it nearly does, because then jack scabs, right? and oscar and morris are in pulitzer's office as the man talks jack through the deal, through the cash. as he must've to oscar and morris earlier that week about strike breaking the newsies. and all three of them all have these nearly matching bruises and cuts on their faces.

and then all three of them go to the cellar, the lowest floor of the elite. together the three of them are in this location with this context. two strikebreakers and a scab. taking the elite's money for their benefit, be it in a moment of fear, resignation, or greed. all the oldest kids in the play, the three who've seen the scars and rips and tears in this world more than any of the others. and for like twenty seconds of stage time jack oscar and morris are the same brand. until of course oscar and morris punch into jack's gut--since they're only "given discretion to handle him as they see fit" if he misbehaves, which jack hasn't, so they punch where people won't see/check--and remind him that he's still below them (literally shoving him to the floor ofc), that they're still closer to the elite.

and yeah, they are, because later, jack again refuses the system, and tosses the money back on the table after rebelling against his terms. in true foil fashion, once jack recognizes that his actions align that which he needs to destroy, he renounces them, while the delanceys remain on the other side of the coin they share with jack.

the delanceys, as a storytelling device, right, are meant to represent what the newsies could fall to, seen with the three initial scabs and then jack in act ii. they are this constant threat of sort of equal size to the newsies through the whole show, always kinda lurking. always being a possibility to become if the newsies ever forget what they fight for and against.

also, jack is....kind of.... like their dad, in their perspective. he's parental with the newsies, he leads them, guides them, and protects them, as well as constantly getting the better of the delanceys. why should someone like a father get to fight the system again? not on their fucking watch.

i think it's pretty clear that oscar and morris are meant to represent corruption on the small scale, thematically, while pulitzer is corruption at the top- since it all trickles down. and i think it's really important that this motif is consistently upheld within the brothers, since it sort of alters the message of the show to at least drastically change that abt them. they are the nearest branch of corruption to the newsies guys. that is so fucking cool

#see guys it's possible to talk abt these guys without centering discourse i believe in u #the delancey brothers #morris delancey #oscar delancey #delanceys #newsies #analysis #fizz freaks #fizz writes #jack kelly #🥳🎈🎁 #lmaooo #anyway iiiiii. have these guys in a petri dish under a microscope. gathering the facts and making hypotheses #reaching conclusions #long post

[mizu-kie]

Part 2....

Itoshi sae x reader

For context please read part 1

Tags:Angst, Guilt, Regret.

"Take care". Those were the last words you said in front of him. He regretted it that day for getting late on your date. He missed the time focused on practicing soccer; he showed up in the restaurant full of sweat, didn't bother to shower, and just changed his top.

Roaming his eyes around the place just to find you, he notices a group of people swarming in one alley. An ambulance rushes into the place. At first, he had no idea it was you and kept on looking for you; he can't even call you after all he rushes here and forgot his phone in his locker.

"I feel bad for her; look at her bruises; it's dangerous to let our children out in this place until people like those jerks roam around this world." the old lady said, which caught Sae's attention.

His world stops when he looks in your direction,its you. Getting into the ambulance,without any second thought he ran towards you without breaking any eye contact.

He burst into tears, looking at your situation. He regrets it even more. Helplessly looking at the ambulance getting far away, wishing you to be alright.

Sae bothers the police hour by hour about the update of those criminals who hurt and abused you,he nearly punch those bastard after they were caught 3 hours later but was stopped by the police.

He checks you through your room door again,he always checks on you, leaving you with a basket of fruits then runs to the exit its a feeling of guilt.

He's reflecting himself; he can't bear looking at you after all; it's his fault you ended up in that situation, his fault for being late. Not only that, but he never deserved you; he knew.

Every day, Sae can't focus on his soccer and visits your shared apartment outside. You called Sae again, but this time he stared at his phone, shaking his hand and debating whether to answer the phone. He is silently wishing for you to stop. And he received a message from you.

From:Love

When i met you two years ago when we visited and stayed in Madrid for six months,i went to a soccer match with my cousin who truly loves soccer (he really forced me to watch) but i didn't regret it because i met you there,your so good that i instantly have a crush on you, my cousin is a friend of one of your teammates and often invites your team that's how we officially met i know you don't have an interest with me that why i never really bother you that much but when we are leaving you ran towards me and ask me to be your girlfriend which made my heart jump in joy,after that we went into long distance which is hard but i understand before me your obsessed playing soccer, i cant just show to your life and stops or bother you with your dream, please don't give up being the best player cause im giving up this relationship, im sorry to bother you these years,im saying that i enjoy being with you and i love you i still do —im just giving up, those having crush on you turns into crushing me into pieces ,i know i deserves someone better . This will be the last time we'll be talking to each other. I love you; take care. My final good-bye.

He cried; he cries like a lost child who has lost his mother. He wanted you to stop, but he never meant it. He didn't think you were a nuisance. He always enjoys your company and loves all your stories, wishes, dreams, and gossip.

He loves you.

You don't know how much he brags about you in front of his teammates or how he smiles every time you embarrass yourself in front of him. I'm sorry you feel that way. I'm sorry he broke your heart. He hopes you can talk to each other again.Hoping for closure.

he's giving you peace. That's it. 

However he still wants you,Sae will forever think he never deserved happiness.

#sae itoshi x reader #itoshi sae angst #blue lock sae itoshi #itoshi sae #blue lock angst #blue lock x reader #blue lock

[musical-chick-13]

I think people who pick one character from AsoIaF/GoT to be The Protagonist are missing the point, because pretty much all of the characters think THEY are The Protagonist™ and that’s ultimately what screws them over.

(I also want to preface this by saying that that’s the reason I find these characters so interesting, and that this is not meant to insult any of them. I LOVE this story, and this is one of the many reasons why.)

Cersei thinks she’s the Villain Protagonist™ of a gritty drama. Even if it doesn’t make sense for things to work out for her, she assumes they will, seeing everyone around her as faceless idiots serving her narrative. Anyone and everyone will betray her because that’s what always happens in stories like this, so she won’t give them a chance to ever get there. People will move the way she assumes they will; everyone is predictable and stupid and shallow and cowardly. And as such, no one possesses the necessary skills to take her down. If she’s more ruthless and ambitious and paranoid than everyone else, she’ll get what she wants. But that’s not how life actually works, so all she does is alienate those around her, even necessary allies. People aren’t always predictable, not all of them are compliant or subservient or easily-frightened or incompetent. And if you prioritize ruthlessness and distrust, the people who aren’t those things aren’t going to see any reason to keep you around or give you aid.

Jaime thinks he’s a Cynical Misunderstood Antihero. He doesn’t need to work on bettering himself or de-internalizing his violent impulses, because he’s not the problem, it’s society, it’s people’s incorrect assessment of him. Look, he made a friend in Brienne, that must mean he’s not all bad, right? He thinks this story ends in a Public Image Rehabilitation, but he still conflates love with violence, and he still has a fucked up relationship with consent, he’s arrogant to a fault, he still insults Brienne (and just about everyone else) when the opportunity presents itself, and he never bothers trying to change that. And it’s all of this that prevents him from every truly becoming a good person. He’s so mired in this idea of being misunderstood that he doesn’t make a concerted effort to prove that he actually is. People think he’s an oath-breaker, that he has too big of an ego, that he doesn’t care about the people he swore to protect, and he thinks that simply going, “Yeah, but they don’t have the whole picture” is enough in and of itself to prove them wrong because, in a lot of stories, it is. But all his behavior does is cement his reputation as these things.

Dany thinks she’s The Chosen One, which means whatever she does is automatically the right decision. People will accept her rule because it’s hers, she deserves it, it’s morally right. All of her enemies are blanketedly wrong on all accounts in all cases. Her goals supersede anyone else’s because those goals are the way to a Happy Ending, and she doesn’t consider that other people might not see it that way. Many people’s gripes with her stem from gross places like misogyny or wanting to continue keeping slaves, but she forgets to acknowledge that some people’s issues with her might actually be valid. And that The Chosen One is actually a terrifying idea to people outside that person’s immediate personal context. She has three sentient WMDs, essentially. And if she thinks that using them is always morally correct, that the fallout from doing so can’t possibly be a problem because she’s using them and it’s for a noble cause, you end up with what happened in Astapor; and you end up with Drogon killing a child in Mereen and, eventually, her demise at the end of the show.

Sansa starts out thinking she’s an Optimistic Child Hero in a fairytale. This leads to her being held captive at court (she trusted that the authority figures were benevolent), writing a letter to her family that almost comes back to bite her to a deadly degree once her sister finds out in the show (she thought she could solve everything herself via a peaceful resolution), and to her trusting a complete monster of a boy until it’s too late (she thought he was Prince Charming). She thinks that being the Soft, Beautiful Heroine means people will love her and everything will end nicely and neatly, but sometimes instead of “love”, people just take advantage of you. And sometimes their reaction to your beauty isn’t innocent appreciation-sometimes you end up with Littlefinger. (Or Tyrion or The Hound who...let’s just leave it at “they have their own issues,” especially book-wise.) This morphs into assuming that a fairytale-esque betrayal will befall her with every new person she meets. It’s why she defends Petyr after his murder of Lysa, and it’s why she doesn’t leave with Brienne; if she’s going to be betrayed anyway, she might as well at least stick with a villain she understands.

Ned thinks he’s the Noble Hero in a typical fantasy series. He doesn’t consider everyone else’s capacity for cruelty or the idea that honor alone might not be enough. Sometimes there are no perfect choices, sometimes mercy does not give you the end goal you envisioned, and sometimes you can try your best and that can all be undone by one impulsive, unforeseeable action. You can’t honor your way out of ruthless political conflict.

Robb thinks he’s a Romantic War Hero, and thus everything will magically work out for him. His ideals and his marriage will conquer everything. But he broke a marriage promise to a powerful family, and that has consequences. The world won’t bend to his will, not even if he is doing the right thing or has noble goals, not even if he’s had war success, not even if the people at home love him, not even if he’s in love (show) or doing the most honorable thing he can (books). He thinks that being the hero means he can make it through Westeros without having to play the game, and he gets murdered for it.

Theon thinks he’s an Underdog Outcast Hero. He’ll come up from behind with an unsuspecting War Victory, and that will earn him respect, the love of his family, and a legacy he can look back on with pride. And that mindset leads him to murder two children, to drive away any allies and good grace he had at Winterfell, and the reason that the War Victory he imagined was so unexpected is because it’s completely untenable. He gets more and more desperate and it’s increasingly harder and harder to hold onto the control he’s managed to obtain. He has reasons for wanting this that make sense, and he’s been dealt a pretty bad hand in life, and he thinks that’s and his determination to overcome his personal identity struggles is enough to not only justify his actions, but ensure that those actions will be successful. And then his plan blows up in his face, he assumes he’s been miraculously saved (probably still having something to do with seeing himself as The Unexpected Hero), and ends up at Ramsay’s mercy.

Arya thinks she’s a Badass Heroine in the making, a skilled swordslady and Rebellious Princess who’s destined for more than this stuffy life of politics and dresses and formalities. But rebelling isn’t always enough. It doesn’t help with the Mycah situation, and she still needs to rely on others’ help in getting out of the city after Ned is executed. When she does try to embrace the “fully self-sufficient sword lady” idea while with the Faceless Men in Braavos, she is told to functionally discard her identity completely. She does an unauthorized kill because she, not her assassin-persona-in-training, wants to (though the victim’s identity differs in books and show), which leads to her being temporarily blinded and prevented from going on assassination missions, and outright forced to beg for food in the show. In the show, after being reinstated as an apprentice, she is tasked with killing an innocent person, refuses (rebels), and realizes that this life is one she can’t handle. She goes home, and her heading straight for her sword is one of the things that almost completely ruins her relationship with Sansa. In the upcoming Winds of Winter release, her chapter excerpt has her prioritizing revenge over her apprentice duties, and she remarks that her new identity is ruined with this rebellious action. When you rebel, there are consequences-this doesn’t change just because your intentions are good or because you are or think you are important.

Jon thinks, similarly to Ned, that he’s The Good Guy, that doing the right thing, that following The Code is paramount. He thinks that, because he’s The Good Guy, that doing the right thing with the maximum amount of good for everyone will always be a workable option, and that the heroic option will always yield the best result. This is why he thinks proclaiming his love to Ygritte in the show will end well (because love is good and conquers everything) and is, instead, shot by her several times. It’s why he doesn’t foresee a mutiny in either medium, which leads to his (temporary) death. (Let’s be real, he’s getting resurrected in the books, too, this is the one thing I’m sure of.) Because yes, everything is tense and he’s on bad terms with the Watch, but surely they wouldn’t go that far. It’s rough going, and he has to juggle the needs of several widely different groups of people, but he’s doing the right thing and that will win out; his conviction will protect him, at least for the time being while he tries to manage the bigger threat of the White Walkers. The real fight is with them, the mysterious overarching enemy, not within his own ranks. This is a story where everyone puts aside their differences to fight a greater threat-except for the times when it isn’t.

Even Catelyn isn’t immune, as she assumes that Petyr, since he’s her childhood friend, is invested in solving the mystery of what happened to Bran when he tells her the dagger used in the attack was Tyrion’s. Lysa is her sister, she can’t possibly be suspicious. She thinks the Lannisters are evil, her instincts tell her that they were behind everything, she’s the Protective Mother Heroine, so she must be right. But although she is to a certain extent correct, that’s not the complete picture. And this slightly-misplaced confidence leads her to arrest Tyrion, the retaliation of which is Tywin siccing his forces on her homeland, one of the major first steps in the upcoming political war. Then, her continued focus on saving her children-something that must take precedence because they are her children, and this is her story-leads her to taking Walder Frey’s supposed offer of a fix-it solution for Robb breaking his marital pledge at face value, despite House Frey’s reputation, and despite this neat resolution seeming far too good to be true. She’s so focused on the Lannisters-the Obvious Endgame Enemy-that she doesn’t consider the possibility of betrayal from the Freys. She thinks that the world is giving her a break-because she is so desperately looking for one, because she deserves one, because her family deserves one, and those are reasons enough for her to have one-that she doesn’t even bother to re-evaluate the situation until it’s too late.

Melisandre thinks she’s a Religious Hero, but she ends up burning a child alive and alienating one of her few remaining allies in the process (and Davos was barely an ally to begin with). She thinks she’s Doing What Needs To Be Done to serve her savior, but it hurts Stannis more than it helps him, and he just ends up being murdered by Brienne. This is obviously in the show only (at least at this point), and I don’t know if Stannis is going to burn Shireen in the books or not. Stannis thinks he’s the Lawful Hero, and thus, because according to law he’s the Rightful Ruler, anything he does is automatically excusable; he’s just righting a wrong. And in the process, he imprisons his closest friend, has a hand in murdering his brother (when kinslaying is one of the most universally hated breaches of conduct in this fictional universe), allies with a dangerous woman that much of his own court despises, and, in the show, murders his only child and drives away most of the rest of his remaining team.

They all think that, since they are the main characters of their own stories, that they’re the main character of the larger, overarching narrative. That having understandable reasons or sympathetic qualities or even just having a clear goal that they desperately want, that’s enough to cement their importance. And they think that means that they’re justified in everything they do, that everything will work out for them, that the consequences will be lesser for them than for others, because that’s what it’s like to be the main character. The whole point is that there is not A Protagonist™ and that maybe we should examine why a story needs A Protagonist™ in the first place and what that narrative tradition tells us. When GRRM said he turned down adaptation offers because they only wanted to focus on Jon and Dany, this is why.

#asoiaf #got #asoiaf meta #got meta #most of this is directly related to everyone deconstructing the archetypes they would represent in other stories #so I'm not sure how much of this is just 'deconstructing tropes' and how much of it is 'Main Character Perception Syndrome' #also obviously this isn't every character I ran out of room and honestly some of them like davos and brienne and maybe even loras #probably don't think they're The Main Character which there's a whole other essay in there about how they're The Good People #I personally think Bran never gave off 'I think I'm the main character' energy but I know haters will disagree with me on that #like...Idk his sense of self-worth kind of went away and he spent a bunch of time trying to get it back and figure out how to get by #in a society that now thought he was worthless. and how to get enjoyment out of life when his goals were no longer reachable #it read less as 'I think I'm more Important™' and more 'I'm just trying to survive man' but also I love bran I might be a little biased lmao #cersei lannister #jaime lannister #dark!dany #sansa stark #arya stark #theon greyjoy #jon snow #catelyn stark #robb stark #ned stark #melisandre #stannis baratheon #I take my life into my own hands by putting actual names in the tags but I talk about these characters and I don't know how else to tag #this to ensure people who don't want to see it won't have to see it #also for anyone wondering where tyrion is on this list: I was too tired to delve into this phenomenon regarding him because it is ESPECIALLY #prominent regarding him. and this post was already so long and talking about tyrion in this context probably would've made it TWICE as long #there genuinely isn't enough space in here to include him but know that I'm counting him too. most definitely #behold! a creation!

[mueritos]

As someone who’s been through multiple therapists and psychs, you’re super not wrong about these people bringing their biases to the table. I’m lucky enough that I

1. Was an older teenager

2. Had friends who had had decent mental health help already

3. Already kinda suspected the shapes of what was “wrong with me” and

4. Had an innate sense of “no that seems like bullshit” before I went in with these people.

The first therapist I ever saw met me as a 17 year old alt girl, and when I tried to talk to her about thinking I had anxiety issues she cut me off before I was done explaining and told me I was self diagnosing, that was causing my problem, and we wouldn’t “entertain THAT” any further.

The second therapist I ever saw met me as a 18 year old trans guy, pre-everything, during the pandemic. She listened, but she had no experience with the trans community and I had to teach her everything about anything I wanted to talk about with regards to that. She was nice, but she couldn’t help me. She didn’t know how.

The third therapist I ever saw met me as a 21 year old young man. She figured I had everything sorted out already. I didn’t. She never tried to change her mind or delve deeper. At this point I couldn’t afford to waste my time, so I asked to be recommended to a psych and she said sure. After that we didn’t talk.

The first psych I went to was very kind, and absolutely did not do his due diligence. I came in with a shiny recommendation from a therapist (that he didn’t verify), so he all but handed me the medication with no explanation and I only ever spoke to him over the phone after that. It was a low barrier to entry but the medication wasn’t right and I didn’t know I had other options. He made it seem like I didn’t.

The psych I’m seeing now put me on a medication that reacted poorly with my inhaler because she didn’t cross check if they would be any drug interactions. I came back and asked for a different medication. She was going to put me on a different one, and then I asked her to check if there were any interactions with this one. Turns out there were severe ones. I ended up going with a different medication, it seems to be working. It would probably work better with help from a therapist, but I don’t have the time or money for that right now. And quite frankly I’m tired of trying to convince people to help me when I have to explain what I think is wrong with me for them to listen. Only for them to decide that I’ve already figured it all out and they don’t need to try.

So uh. Yeah. Lots and lots of stories from me and my friends about clinicians of all age and experience ranges that go from horror stories to just disappointing and unhelpful. Some of these people had been practicing for 20-30 years and they STILL weren’t any better at empathy or not being horribly biased.

first of all holy shit it really fucking sucks you had to go through all of these terrible experiences while accessing care you deserve and need. i'm not surprised these terrible interactions happened, and I can't even be disappointed considering the bar of standards is in hell. The "better" experiences a lot of folks have with clinicians align with your second therapist. They are clinicians who just genuinely have no worldview outside of their own, but are receptive to new information...they just have no drive to learn how to apply new frameworks of ways of thinking to expand their worldview and guide their clients. The worst is literal malpractice, ableism, and violence against clients.

a lot of people who go into the mental health field don't actually have the skills related to active listening, empathy, or curiosity based out of humanity. I say this to a lot of people in the social work program, but social work is the same pipeline as mean girls who go into nursing--it's just full of the girls who were not smart enough to go into nursing that decide to go into social work. Same breed of mean girl seeking power over others, just different contexts of public service.

the only hope i have is in the new generations of mental health clinicians who are BIPOC/queer, anti-carceral, disabled themselves, and who are mentally ill as well. I feel more solidarity with my neurodivergent peers in my program who can barely finish an assignment on time than I do with the white women who have never experience hardship in their lives. Not to say neither of these people can't experience easy or hard times in their lives but man....seeing the roadblocks in some of these people's worldviews, empathy, or conceptualizations of other people's struggles is fucked up.

the mental health field is just another medicalized, over-policed, and racist institution that wants to shove people back into the workforce ASAP. we are in hell!! but just know there ARE people and groups and orgs out there that are dedicated to radical work and will name all the hypocrisy, pain, and oppression that exists in working in this field.

thank you tho for sharing your experience and input. I can only hope that your experiences moving forward are positive and liberating for you <3

#muertoresponds #like brother we are in hell! #my last therapist is a zionist so yea we are literally in hell #there are really cool and awesome clinicians out there tho #it feels so freeing to openly talk about palestine with my therapist and shes like yea fuck zionists! #there are people out there dedicated to being safe and radical people #godspeed to anyone else in the social work field or who is training to be one #im trying to get my degree my license (maybe) and just fuck off #i only want to work independently or in higher ed