#god love a complex and so so tired woman

[beansidhebumbling]

People will stone-faced say:

I want to like Nesta but I can't get over how mean she was in the cabin at the big age of 17😓😡

But have no such qualms about the many wrongs the immortal IC have confessed to, specifically the guys.

I see you and your selective moral hand wringing.

The kicker is Nesta's failing for so many of these type of criticisms lies in her being a woman who for so long refuses to play nice with your favs. Otherwise your stringent moral standards would prevent you from liking a single character in ACOTAR (bar maybe Tarquin).

[shovelbug]

You lived a relatively quiet life. You were never one for the luxury so many Fontainians seemed to favor, but you were fine with that. You lived in a small apartment complex, and it was more than enough for you. Not much of a view, but you make do. You kept to yourself occupied with your hobbies. It wasn’t glamorous, but you were happy.

But even you knew about the recent trial of the Hydro Archon and her subsequent retirement from her position. You felt a great grief for all the woman had been through, and you held even more respect for her, perhaps even more so than before the trial.

So it was simultaneously no surprise and a great shock that Lady Furina, of all people, was your new neighbor.

It made sense, you figured. You would want a quiet life and a place to rest after all that, too. So, with that in mind, you resolved to treat her kindly, but no differently from how you would anyone else. She had enough of being put on a pedestal for one lifetime, you thought.

The day she moved in, she had very little in terms of luggage, but you offered to bring her bags up regardless. She seemed like she was ready to insist otherwise, but she didn’t actually refuse and allowed your help with a simple “Thank you.”

She sounded tired, you noticed. But also, more genuine.

You didn’t interact with her much other than that, save for when you used the fire hydrant in the hall to spray down her kitchen afyer she burned her macaroni. Despite her embarrassment, you said nothing of the incident and occasionally exchanged polite hello’s and good mornings whenever you happened to pass each other by.

It seemed wrong to judge the (former?) god of justice. More than that, you felt she was really just starting her life for the first time, as ironic as that sounded. She was stumbling, unsure, like a baby deer on its legs. But she was still trying, and kept getting back up. There was something to be admired in that.

After some time, you noticed how she seemed to pretty much only make macaroni. Now, you were no stranger to safe or comfort foods and often would make the same things yourself when you were lacking energy, but even that got tiresome after a while. So, when you were making yourself dinner one day, you found yourself making an extra portion. You put the lasagna and a few slices of the garlic baguette into a container and covered it, before taking it and peering into the hall.

Quiet, as usual. You padded along the corridor to her apartment’s doorstep, before leaving it with a quick knock and hurrying back to your own apartment.

You hoped, in some small way, Furina would find joy in the gesture.

a/n: hi so uhhh this is basically like. Furina moves into her little apartment and you’re her neighbor who is like i’ll just treat her like a normal person but also i am mildly Concerned. i haven’t finished her story quest so apologies if this is weird or something this is just a brain worm i had. might continue it idk! anyways i love her

k thanks for reading love you bye

[tacticaldiary]

"There's no strong female characters!", "Give us complex women!", "We want to see a range of female personality!"

They gave you Abby Anderson. Nina Zenik. Annabeth Chase. Shauna Sadecki.

It's been a gruelling fight to get crumbs of what we want, but frankly you don't deserve them. You don't deserve them if you're going to call for complexity, then whine about how they're too 'complicated'. How those women are 'too much' and 'not enough' at the same time. How they could have been better, how they should have been changed.

You hate Abby for being too strong, you hate Nina for being too forward, you hate Annabeth for being a leader, you hate Shauna for being a child.

You're given women that are complex, that are morally grey, that can't be stamped with a 'good' or 'bad', and how do you treat them? No, even better, how do you treat the people that advocate for them?

It's fine for the men to be morally gray, but God forbid a woman step into that role like you asked.

I'm sick, and I'm so tired, and this is exactly why I love writing morally grey women. Strong women, women that are unapologetic and powerful.

Grow up.

[the-avengers-ate-my-tongue]

Don't Blame Me (Smut)

Summary: if there's one thing that makes Hannibal Lecter lose control, is rudeness.

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x reader, past Alana Bloom x reader (mentioned)

Warnings: Smut!

English is not my first language, if you see any mistake, let me know! It came out a little different than the ask cause I just don't see Hannibal losing his shit like that hahahahah I hope you like it anyway, anon!

Word Count: 2277

It's common knowledge that one must never miss a Lecter soiree. 

Always one of the most expected events of the year, I was lucky and even grateful to be invited. I've known Hannibal since the years on Hopkins, he'd always been Alana's interesting acquaintance, one I never thought I'd catch the attention of. 

Turns out we have more interests in common than I originally thought. He's a skilled artist, so am I. We both enjoy opera, and love to play instruments, mine being mostly flute and oboe. I could still hear the angelic sound of the harpsichord being played half an hour earlier. Impressive how his fingers glided through the keys, how effortlessly he recorded complex tunes to entertain his guests.

"I missed the days that sparkle in your eyes were directed to me" Alana's jest ringed in my ears, making me jump a little. She chuckled. "Look at you all jumpy. Relax, Y/n. He didn't catch you staring."

"Shut up, Lana" I shoved her playfully, sipping the red wine. "Do not get me started on Will Graham and those puppy eyes. He's staring right now, you know. You should give the poor man a chance."

"Okay, I got it. I won't meddle in your affairs anymore."

"There is no affair." I wish there was, I thought to myself, taking another sip of the wine while I eyed Hannibal from afar, talking to an older woman dressed like a peacock. "I…"

"I noticed your glass is nearly empty, so I fetched you another one" a familiar voice came from behind me, and the glass was abruptly removed from my hand and replaced with a fuller one. I contained my desire to roll my eyes once I saw who the intruder was.

"Frederick. Were you also invited or just crashed the party to feast on good things for once?" I teased, narrowing my eyes while looking at the director of the general administrator for Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. 

"My dear Y/n, I wouldn't dream of it. Of course I was invited. Moreover, I would avoid all this meat if I were you. You never know the provenance, if you know what I mean." He lowered his voice, coming closer and almost whispering in my ear. I could not help to actually roll my eyes this time, turning to face him. "I am, after all, restrained to low protein meat, that is."

"You still believe that silly theory that Hannibal is the Chesapeake Ripper? Please, Chilton. I never deemed you to be clever, but this is plain stupidity." I allowed the alcohol to make me more straightforward, chuckling on my words.

"Sticks and stones, little Y/n. Sticks and stones." Chilton teased, stepping away and going to bother someone else with his presence.

"For god's sake, the man is a burden" I whispered to Alana, who cracked at the comment.

"He has always been like this, you know that. I don't fathom why you always allow him to get under your skin."

"I've known Frederick for longer than you, Lana. Believe me, if you give that man a hand, he will most certainly grab your arm, shoulder and everything else you have to offer. Now, if you excuse me, I shall mingle a little bit more before the dinner actually begins. His interaction gave me a sour taste on my tongue."

I clicked my glass to Alana's, walking around the room and chatting to some people. Uninteresting conversations filled my ears and fake smiles made my lips start to tire out, but as soon as Hannibal's chocolate eyes were on me, I felt my entire demeanour change. 

An idea occurred to me as I walked straight to the balcony, hoping he would join me. The night breeze engulfed me and I realized how trapped I was feeling inside that house, with those judgy stares and meaningless conversations. My wine glass remained untouched as I placed it on the strong wood porch, contemplating the cloudless sky.

"Tired of the good old socialization already?" I grunted when I realized that was not the voice I longed to hear, turning back to face Frederick.

"Careful, Chilton. One might say you are stalking me. As far as I remember, that's still a crime." I crossed my arms to show how much I unappreciated his presence, stepping away until my back was against the balcony.

"Come now, what have I done to deserve so much animosity? We used to be colleagues, friends if I dare to be so bold."

"An old dog with difficulty dropping the dry bone he was once given. Are you really that starved, Frederick? That's pitiful." I was aware of how indelicate I was getting, but he was starting to bother me immensely. "If there's one thing you are not, it's bold. Arrogant and extremely annoying, yes. Can't stand to hear a loud no? That checks, too. One must always let go of the past if we wish to evolve. God knows I have."

He dismissed everything I said with a slight wave of his hand, getting closer. I could smell the faint scent of whiskey, imagining that, after the loss of some of his organs, he probably would get drunk much easier. He tried to reach me with his free hand, but awkwardly dropped my glass, causing it to crash a few meters down. 

We were alone and a little far from the other guests. The balcony's door was closed shut. I felt my hands start to tremble a bit, and realized I had to get out of there before things could get out of hand.

"Seriously, Frederick?" I snarled, rolling my eyes. "Playtime is over. Let me through, I'm getting out of here."

"Y/n, I…" he held my wrist with considerable strength, making me gasp. I tried to pull away but he was strong, and before I could snap and finally throw the punch he deserved, a low, deep voice echoed.

"I believe you heard the lady clearly, Dr. Chilton." There was a different gleam in Hannibal's eyes, and I wasn't the only one to notice. Frederick turned paler, letting go of my wrist with haste. "I think you should go. You've had too much wine, I see."

He hesitated, but agreed with a nod, leaving the balcony without looking back. Hannibal stared at him through his shoulder darkly and I released the breath I was holding, my knees would have given out if Hannibal had not held me discreetly, supporting my weight with an arm around my waist.

"Are you okay, Y/n?" He inquired, one hand lifting my face so I could look at him. I was so embarrassed. "Do you need a place to rest?"

"Not at all, Hannibal. Do not worry about me, it was just a fright and the wine. I cannot steal the host of his guests."

"Nonsense. Come, I will take you to the guest bedroom. We can enter through the kitchen, so no one will see your state. Please" he pointed to the other door, showing that there was no space to argue, and I just surrendered, allowing him to guide me through the vast kitchen filled with employees working to the elegant guest bedroom, shutting the door behind us. 

I sat on the comfortable mattress, appreciating the shades of cream and white, and the beautiful vintage-like furniture that seemed to complement the place perfectly. I realized then that Hannibal had fallen silent, and I stared at him with worry. He had turned his back to me, leaning on the dresser, breathing a little heavier.

"Hannibal?" I called, getting up and walking towards him, reaching out with my hand on his shoulder. His face was impassive, but he had that same look in his eyes again, something ancient and darker that wides his pupils and pierces his lips tightly.  I allow myself to reach deeper, caressing his strong arm and feeling the muscles tense under his suit. "What is it?"

"He dared to touch you like that" he pointed in a cold tone. "Like you are someone else's property."

My eyes softened as I felt some butterflies in my stomach, and I took the liberty to grab his chin, kissing his cheek tenderly in appreciation.

"Forget about Frederick, he is immature and arrogant. I will call him tomorrow to address this matter."

He still had that predatorial look in his eyes that gave me shivers, though not the way it should. Something in being that much protected by him made me feel dear and precious like an exotic pearl. 

He would not give in, and I felt bold enough to once more kiss his handsome face, this time on his jawline, near his left ear. That caught his attention, and he towered over me, cradling my face with his enormous hands, making my eyes tremble with the feeling of electricity that flowed through my veins. With no hesitation, his lips crashed against mine, and I moaned into his mouth, the hunger for him making my loins combust. 

"I have wanted this for so long…" I murmured against his neck, his fancy perfume invading my nostrils. He smelled so good. 

"As did I, Y/n. You have been in my thoughts a great deal lately" he confessed, making me blush. Impostor syndrome trying to kick in, I avoid the self-degrading thoughts as I delight in his open mouthed kisses in my skin, gasping in pleasure when he lightly bites my shoulder, enjoying it more than I ever thought I would.

"Your guests…" I tried to be reasonable, a dirty smile playing on my lips.

"The dinner will take a little while longer, I'm afraid" he whispered in my ear, nibbling on the lobe with a mischievous deep chuckle. He lifted my dress to my waist, since we didn't really have that much time to spare, and I got rid of my panties, almost tripping on them with my heels and the rush. 

His hand went to my core, testing how wet I was, and he smiled with how soaked I felt. A loud moan echoed through the room and he removed his hand at once, lifting one finger at me as he would chastise a child. I frowned with frustration, lifting my chin to face him.

"We are not supposed to be too loud, Y/n. You do not want the guests to hear us, do you? Imagine the scandal" that made me laugh with pure bliss, nodding in agreement. "Are you going to be a good girl?"

Oh, fuck. Is this really happening?

"Yes. Yes, I will" I agreed in haste, and he effortlessly lifted me up, sitting me on the dresser and starting to unzip his pants. I tried to control my breathing and anticipation, pleasuring myself with the vision of his hard cock, precum glistening at the tip. He massaged it with his hand for a few seconds before he towered over me, holding my hips in place while he entered me so painfully slowly I nearly sobbed.

To avoid the loud moans, I bit my left fist, suppressing the sounds as my insides clenched to accommodate him. A joyful smile illustrated his lips, his hair falling over his eyes due to the sweat, and he looked like a Greek statue. I could not avoid the mesmerized stare, melting in admiration, as he leaned to cover my lips with his own one more time, his tongue exploring my mouth like he was famished. Still slowly, he started to move his hips, almost both torturing and indulging me at the same time. I entangled my legs around him, pulling him closer to the point one could swear we were one. He moaned my name, followed by an almost savage growl that sent vibrations through my entire body and, for a while, I regretted how little time we had. He seemed to sense that, rushing his movements until the dresser started to hit the wall and, for a moment, I was certain everyone outside could hear us. 

So much for discretion, I thought, grabbing his broad shoulders while he inserted himself deeper and deeper inside of me. His thumb began to stimulate my clit and, sensing I would begin to cry out at any moment, Hannibal silenced me with his lips, allowing me to moan against his mouth as I felt the tension start to build up in my lower abdomen.

I felt him pull out his cock, replacing it with his skilled fingers, finishing on my thighs. I followed him right after, covering my mouth until my moans were unsteady breaths. 

I hadn't even realized Hannibal had left until he came back from the suite with a hot towel, starting to clean me up. I thanked him with a sweet kiss, doing my best to fix his clothes and hair. We both knew it wouldn't do any good, but he enjoyed my caresses and how I took care of him as well. He took one of my hands — the one Chilton grabbed like a brute earlier — and kissed my wrist, right where small purple bruises began to form. 

"We should go back. Who is going to serve dinner? We're being unforgivably selfish" I taunted, chuckling lightly.

"Perhaps you should be my dinner, then" he jested, and I openly laughed, shoving him playfully.

"Later. If you'll have me, that is." I lifted my eyebrows with expectation, staring at his brown irises.

"It would be my pleasure, Y/n" with a last kiss, he went to the bathroom suite to fix his appearance, leaving me with a silly smile and a warm feeling in my chest.

[lemonavocado]

i have many many thoughts about the portrayal of elizabeth (and henry) in adaptations of frankenstein and they need to be broadcasted immediately. feverish incoherent raving about this subject under the cut. tw for very brief mention of SA

so. elizabeth lavenza. by the time of the wedding, elizabeth is rather obviously portrayed to be just as morose and brooding as victor is, she just isn't as susceptible to episodes of mania and psychosis so it doesn't seem nearly as dramatic compared to victor's trauma. she's been through the gutter herself, being an orphan for starters, then being adopted into a family and having to assume the role of caregiver in the frankenstein family because of the coercion of her dead mother to not only take her place as the maternal figure in the family but also marry her surrogate brother (or literal cousin, depending on which version you read). then her surrogate younger brother william dies, and the within weeks she has to watch her closest heterosexual life partner justine be unjustly hung by a corrupt justice system. and she vocalizes, actively, her pessimism and hopelessness in light of these many tragedies. tldr she's fucked up and rightfully so, and while she's a little less crippled by depression than victor, she still has the distinct appearance of being rather ill, listless, and tired, especially towards the end of the novel. anyways my point is in the novel, the most important thing about elizabeth is not that she's a woman and victor's bride. yes, that's obviously the purpose she was created for, but shelley went out of her way to give elizabeth an extremely definite and unique character. she's gentle and maternal like most woman in early 19th century literature, but she's also introspective, intelligent, and perceptive. she displays agency and self-awareness repeatedly (her guilt over the locket, going to the execution of justine even when alphonse tells her not to, waxing poetic on the failures of the justice system, asking repeatedly and rather pointedly if victor actually wants to go through with the marriage, obvious anxiety and solemnity concerning the wedding) we also have to take into account that elizabeth's personality is being relayed to us BY VICTOR, and he wants to see elizabeth as docile and femininely passive, even if a lot of her actions themselves in the novel actually seem to contradict that. also, i am peppering in that many people can (and have) made a genuine and convincing argument that victor and elizabeth are not in love and were groomed to accept their union by their weirdo parents - that they care for each other, but the text includes important nuances that make it evident that victor doesn't feel anything for elizabeth like that. it is a legitimate interpretation of the book - dare i say it's the correct interpretation of the relationship between victor and elizabeth. but that's another essay for another day and it's not SUPER integral to my rant here today. it just highlights the complexity of elizabeth as a character.

so. for some fucking reason, writers do not understand this when they are adapting the novel, and do not want to apply more than eight seconds of critical thinking and the absolute shallowest 3rd grader levels of reading comprehension to this character, so they simplify her from what she was in the original novel, freshly complex, opinionated, and introspective to boring useless incest lady. victor is never portrayed with the same amount of nuance he deserves in any adaptation (also another essay for another day), because adaptations also have a very surface level reading of him as "guy who was ambitious and played god which immediately cements him as an irredeemable self-aggrandizing asshole and/or a raging insufferable narcissist who's a dick to everyone around him EXCEPT for elizabeth" but at least SOME adaptations are able to kiiinnnddaaaa capture the sympathy meant to be felt for the character in the novel. not so for elizabeth. her character in basically every adaptation can be boiled down to this: "omg victor my brother let me hammer in that you are my brother. im just going to stand here and look clueless and annoyingly naive for the entire time im on screen/stage. im just a little girl and idk what's going on victor but im gonna stay blindly devoted to you and ask numerous but completely useless questions 🥺 let me stare at you with tender worry in my eyes and treat you like a child even though we have absolutely no romantic chemistry and you're an objectifying dick towards me and we have nothing in common and the audience is actively dry heaving as we sensually make out for no other reason than to have characters in this movie sensually make out. im basically a carbon copy of original-novel-henry expect super boring and super useless because im a woman which means the doylist explanation for why im here HAS TO BE ONLY for the main character to fuck me and to hold the attention of the male viewership. now time for me to get SA'd by the creechur for basically no reason" we can observe something approximating this in basically every frankenstein adaptation i've ever seen: kenneth branagh's (my enemy) 1994 film, the 2004 hallmark miniseries, the musical, and the ballet. also in the 1931 film, but that one isn't really trying to be book-accurate so it doesn't really count for this rant.

with this understanding of elizabeth, writers then attempt to artificially generate more romance between these characters, mostly by, yes, replacing a lot of henry's role in the novel with elizabeth, hence why we see so many adaptations (1994, 2004, ballet) make elizabeth nurse victor back to health in ingolstadt instead of henry, which generates... so many problems. one problem with this is that it just sorta ruins henry's original role in the novel in one go. writers recognize that henry is supposed to be victor's character foil, but now they don't have much for him to do so he can demonstrate that role in the story since they gave all of the romantic tension moments to elizabeth. meaning that in adaptations you can tell the writers didn't really know what to do with henry because he's reduced to a comic relief bumbling idiot (1994, ballet, 2004 to an extent) with his only personality traits being "random xd" and "morals good playing god wrong!!!! 😠" (2004, musical, several independent stage adaptations). they keep him as a character foil, but just replace all of his compassion, tenderness, and devotion with elizabeth, while effectively draining henry of all of his original appeal and charm and stamping those traits onto their already stripped-of-all-nuance elizabeth. so now both henry and elizabeth are not only extremely different from their original roles in the novel but extremely, woefully less charming and complex. this especially pisses me off because it's explicitly stated in the book that henry was victor's only friend precisely because he was victor's intellectual equal, so seeing henry reduced to a smiley idiot and/or stupid generic male side character with Morals fills me with a visceral rage. writers will also sometimes make victor and henry meet in college (ballet, 1994) and try to strengthen the bond between victor and elizabeth by making it appear as though she was victor's ONLY childhood friend and companion. other times, victor and henry will be friends pre-ingolstadt (2004, musical) but most of the relationship development will be between elizabeth and victor. those two have all of the tender bonding moments while henry is just kinda inexplicably there sometimes. but i digress. this post is supposed to be about elizabeth. but IF YOU NEED A CHARACTER TO BE A SUNSHINE SOFT OPTIMISTIC LOVER FOR VICTOR IN A FRANKENSTEIN ADAPTATION, HENRY IS ABLE AND WILLING ARE YOU STEPPING ON MY BALLS

clervalstein is true. anyway

elizabeth is somehow more complex and powerful as a female character than the literal adaptations produced almost 200 years later. in adaptations, the most important thing about her is somebody else. the development of all of her character traits (which usually never go beyond standing around and looking helpless) are solely dependant on victor. she feels more like an appendage of the protagonist than an individual with thoughts and experiences separate from victor, and her character is loosely defined and flimsy so the writers can have her conform to her actions in the book whenever it's convenient and then change things up entirely that completely contradict her characterization in the book whenever it's convenient. i have no idea why the fuck this keeps happening with frankenstein adaptations (it's misogyny) and because it isn't looking like guillermo del toro's film (from what ive heard) is going to be super book accurate, i dont foresee too much of a shift in frankenstein adaptations.

look i get it. it's a movie/play/ballet which lasts like 2 hours and you have a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it. i understand you have to make sacrifices for brevity and these characters are, frankly, a lot less interesting and exciting than victor and creechur. people didn't come to see john hughes levels of charm and complexity in the side characters, they came to watch the creechur do scary shit and for victor to say IT'S ALIVE 😱 and be an evil mad scientist you love to hate. they came for their values of "it's wrong to play god!!!" and "too much ambition bad!!!" to be re-cemented even though that's not even the original point of the novel. which is why imo if you're going to adapt frankenstein in a manner that does justice to the beautiful and sublime subtlety of the original novel, it needs to be either a miniseries or a REALLY LONG film. it's a short book, but it's very eventful, and imo for an adaptation to work you have to let the audience sit with it. which is why you all need to donate to my gofundme so i can produce an honest to god frankenstein adaptation. in fact, im running for president in this year's primaries :3

just a disclaimer: im not an academic or a scholar or anything. i just like the book. i probably have no idea what the fuck im talking about. but im a very very passionate little guy and this has been my rant

[beanghostprincess]

What are you most controversial/unpopular OP opinions??? Sorry if it was answered before

You want me to get canceled so bad-- If I speak-- But idk, I guess I'll say the controversial opinions I can say publicly without a bunch of people coming at me!

Zo$an is a bit... Overrated? And by overrated I mean extremely/annoyingly overrated. I like the ship and its canon dynamic but I think at least 80% of the fandom portrays them in a very mischaracterized way. Not to say that... The ship is literally everywhere and the shippers always look for every little thing to prove they're canon, even if the "proof" has literally nothing to do with them. It's not that I don't enjoy the ship (although I must admit I prefer other dynamics a lot more) I just can't stand shippers that go to extremes. It's funny because I think Zo$an's dynamic is way more interesting and romantic in canon than it will ever be in the fandom. It's a bit sad, ngl. I liked them a lot at first but it got so tiring and now I am pretty exhausted from seeing it everywhere. The people force it to be more than it is when the canon is already pretty fucking great.

Adding to the Zo$san thing. I think that relationship would only work if Luffy is there somehow but it wouldn't last a day without him in the relationship. Unless there's like, a ton of character development most of these people don't make them go through.

One Piece Film Z is my worst enemy. It's such a boring movie. The only good thing is the soundtrack and maybe the suits but God watching that was torture.

Boa hate is uhhhh weird. I mean, I get why the joke about her being in love with Luffy might be annoying, but I think most of you need to learn to understand that Oda's sense of humor is sometimes a bit too exaggerated (and not funny) and it has basically nothing to do with the actual canon dynamics between characters. Boa likes Luffy because he's one of the first men who has ever treated her right, so of course she confuses that feeling with love. And of course, yeah, it isn't canon. Whatever. Just read between the lines, maybe? And also, stop using words like "pedo" to describe her because using that term so lightly about 1) a fictional character and 2) somebody who's clearly not a pedo is fucked up. Lmao. Do you even know what that word means???

Once again complaining about Pudding hate and saying that it's stupid. I won't overanalyze because I always do it with her, but the only reason people hate her is for misogynistic reasons and because they're babying Sanji. Evil male characters are okay and hot and very traumatized but the second it's a woman she's the most evilest person ever! Because God forbid they make mistakes! Suddenly their character development isn't valid because they hurt their babygirl!

Now that we're talking about my dearest Pudding. Not tagging anybody of course, but I saw this post with so many interactions of people agreeing about Sanji considering violence as a sign of love which??? Doesn't make sense at all?? OP said it was because he couldn't tell the difference between love/abuse because of his family, but that's just... Not accurate. That could only happen if they had manipulated him into thinking abuse is a type of love, but he had healthy love growing up. Even when he was with the Vinsmokes (Sora and Reiju, I love you). And yet OP said Sanji considered Pudding's behavior flirting (wrong) and that's why he let her attack him (nope) and that it was proof of Zo$an. And okay, it's not a hugely popular theory, but a lot of people agreed with it and it bothered me a lot because it's both out of character and also using Pudding (complex female character) once again to try and prove the canon of a ship (that doesn't have anything to do with WCI either???). It just bothers me. People can perceive the story however they want but... Y'know.

OPLA isn't that good. Or good at all? I only like it because I like the cast and it's funny seeing my blorbos irl. But the script is simple and dull and just stupid most of the time. The characters are either simplified, mischaracterized, or forgotten. And tbh most of the shots are very awful and could be a lot better. The directing is also nonexistent. It's 6/10 and 3 of those points are because both the Zolu and the cast.

Apparently this is a very common theory about Nami's origins, but, uh, I don't think we need to know? What else do you need to know about her? People say she's a lost princess or something like that as if we didn't have a lost princess already (Sanji ily). Repeating the same plot would be boring and underwhelming, but also? It'd be extremely useless for the plot and it'd go against everything about Nami's story and the way Luffy reacts to it.

Luffy isn't canon aroace. In fact, the reasoning people use for him being "coded" is the same Oda uses for Zoro too and Zoro is almost never portrayed as the "idiot who doesn't know what sex is" the way Luffy often is. If you're calling Luffy canon aroace for what Oda said about him being focused on adventures, the same goes for Zoro being focused on his dream. They could be coded arospec but there's nothing confirmed and the constant discourse about it is stupid. Attacking others because of their ships just because you don't agree with them and saying it's wrong using our identity to do it is very fucked up. Especially since most of the time people complaining aren't even aroace. The only reason people do it (attacking others saying they can't ship Luffy and that it's "weird" and "wrong") is that they infantilize Luffy/Don't want him getting in between their ships (<- aroace person writing this) (also, it's very ableist since people agree on Luffy also being neurodivergent coded and treating him like a kid bc of that but this isn't about that now).

Somehow this is very common. Some fucking how. I can't believe I have to say this. I'm tired of people blaming Usopp for what happened in Water 7. Or in general hating Usopp. Actually, he's one of the best-written characters in the whole show and he's so underappreciated it's so frustrating.

Sanji's perv jokes are annoying af and we all know that, but people who hate the character and consider him a red flag for that are missing the point completely. The point being "Oda exaggerates jokes to an annoying extent and most of the time they don't even reflect the character". I understand they can make you uncomfortable (same here tbh) but reducing Sanji to only those jokes is a waste of his character. You need to take jokes less seriously.

If I see one of these "red flag OP boys" TikToks adding Law/Ace/Zoro/Sanji next to fucking Doffy I will riot. Also, stop adding Crocodile there. He's a mafioso, there's NO way he won't be a sweetheart to his lover.

Baron Omatsuri's artstyle and animation is amazing and it fits the plot and aesthetic of the movie perfectly and people saying it's ugly will forever bother me.

"Usopp is suddenly hot after timeskip!" He has always been hot what the fuck are you talking about.

People reduce Nami to her "mean"/"sarcastic" personality a lot when she's quite literally one of the most kind-hearted characters of all. That being said, morally speaking she's probably one of the worst. I could explain how that works but I don't want to do it now, the point is-- Let the girl be sweet instead of making her mean all the time. And also, let her be mean and selfish without making it her entire personality. There's something called "balance".

Film Red was kind of bad. Like, the songs are amazing (thanks, Ado) but the ending is awful and the plot is very meh. I'm only here for Uta and Shanks but the rest of the characters are just useless. I do appreciate Sanji's hair in the movie, though.

[queerfanfiction]

Love Notes (Ch. 4)

Larissa Weems x musicteacher!Reader

AO3 link

The next few weeks were risky for you and any attempts to deliver a mix CD to Larissa. You had hoped to drop one in her mail slot near the faculty lounge; many of the faculty have a dedicated space for students to drop off papers, forms, and so on. Thankfully, not only students used it to submit assignments. It wasn’t monitored, so it would be a likely place for a secret admirer to utilize.

During the first attempt, you had the gift tucked in your hand on your way to the mailboxes. No one else was around. Most faculty were not holding any exams since the semester had concluded early due to the culmination of Ms. Thornhill’s, or….Laurel Gates’, plans. Students and a majority of the faculty and staff would depart soon for their own homes admits winter break. This felt like the only time you were able to deliver the CD without major suspicion.

As you were about to slide the letter and CD into the slot for Principal Weems, Larissa appeared from down the hall. Gods, you contemplate at the coincidence and close call. You had hoped to deliver the next installment of your never-ending playlist for her before she could begin moving around the academy grounds. She was advised to continue resting, and her sprightly recovery was not anticipated by the hospital. Granted, the normie hospital in Burlington didn’t (and couldn’t) take into account how fast Larissa’s shapeshifter antibodies regenerated. You felt thankful for that fact, because otherwise the poison would have taken its toll on her body, even with the antidote.

Sauntering towards you after meeting your gaze, Larissa inquired, “Want to get some air with me?”

She had bugged you nearly every day for the past week to go outside with her. Or, rather, let her go outside at all. You were keeping a surprisingly firm stance her recovery. You typically wouldn’t be that bothered in your day to day, but, in this case, you knew the woman would work herself to the bone if you did not set parameters for her. Wow, I sound like a nagging partner, you thought humorously.

You quickly manuever your hand behind you to ensure Larissa did not witness the nearly placed gift that would undoubtedly out you. “Uh, yeah. I’d like that.”

Taken aback, Larissa gaped. She didn’t expect for you to agree so readily. In fact, she had prepared a small speech about the benefits of fresh air to recovery and maintaining routine, assured that she would have to convince you.

You link arms with the taller woman, struggling slightly to recompense the height difference between you two as you walked. Having a hand on Larissa would provide support and protection for your first walk through the campus. However, you’d be lying if you said grasping her warm forearm didn’t feel like the most natural and comforting action.

Delivering the mix CD would have to wait.

—

Outside, you see Larissa light up after taking a deep breath in of the crisp air. She excitedly pulls you along a walking path, eventually pointing out different birds. “You know about birds?” you ask incredulously, staring at her in wonder. This woman was constantly surprising you with her complexity and dynamism. You felt like you could never tire of her and all that she beholds.

“Of course. They’re astonishing. I take note of beauty when I see it.” Her eyes seek out and linger over your own. You attempt to suppress a smile and growing blush. Your head swam with possibility. Did she mean you?

The rest of your walk together veered away from school grounds and into the woods, most likely near the crypts and ritual sites. Most of the Vermont trees were barren. No leaves, no snow—only varying shades of brown straggling upward towards the sky. You were thankful to have a walking path with large evergreen trees that added a bit of color to the excursion. You noted spruce, fir, and pine trees throughout your chosen path, and you wondered if Larissa would be interested in the differences.

At that moment, the trees in question betrayed you. Your boot caught on a rather hefty root hidden by the fallen leaves and brush, causing you to topple dramatically. Strong, gloved hands reach out to secure you, but the unexpected force of the fall overtook you both.

You land with a thud on top of Larissa. Her attempt to steady you with her hands turned into her arms enveloping you, taking most of the brunt of the sudden trip to the ground.

“Oh my gods, are you okay?!” you breathe out frantically.

With an echo of pain already leaving her face to be replaced by something else, she lets out a deep, hearty laugh. You two lay together howling until your stomach aches from the effort. Settling from the joyous outburst, you realize you’re still atop of the tall woman, your bodyweight pressing against her. Larissa makes no move to loosen her grip on you or unsnake her arms from around your back. With your faces this close together in the cold air, your breaths are seen passing between you two, intermingling.

Your hair dangles and frames Larissa’s face below you. A flood of emotions rise in your chest as you stare at her plump lips slightly parted. You involuntarily release your tongue to wet your own lips. Larissa notices, because her eyes stay on the action, begging your tongue to make a reappearance.

Before you can give yourself over to the building ache to meld your body into hers, to crawl inside and make a home in the woman, you remember she’s freshly out of the hospital and could be in pain. Worry overwhelms you and you cup her face with your hand and suggest, “Let’s get you up.”

When you and Larissa finally move onward after the tree root encounter, you search for almost anything to establish a new conversation subject away from the budding desire for continued closeness you yearned for. Turning to winter break and students, you two bring up Wednesday and Enid. You had seen Enid packing her bags, looking unusually excited to leave for winter break. You had assumed after last year’s lackluster winter break and this year’s rocky Parent’s Weekend that the young werewolf wouldn’t be looking forward to being away from Nevermore.

“I believe Ms. Sinclair will be visiting with Ms. Addams over break,” Larissa confides.

“Ah. …Do you think they’ll come back and have finally disclosed their feelings for each other?”

“I—what?” Larissa attempts, before finally relenting to gossiping. “I’m not sure. Wednesday is as hard to crack as ever after everything.”

“Come on! Give her some credit. I see the way she looks at Enid. Wednesday can tolerate her far longer than anyone else. That’s practically a declaration of love.”

You and Larissa chat candidly as you loop around back to the school grounds. It was freeing being able to broach almost any topic with someone—her time at Nevermore, your family growing up, her hopes and plans for the future. Finally, the sunset begins to part further down the horizon, threatening darkness.

“Let’s go, Larissa. We’ve been out here for hours. Let’s not get lost in the dark.” You take Larissa’s hand to tug and direct her to an entrance close to her living quarters. You both head inside, content with the day’s exploration of each other and the grounds.

—

A day after your stroll through the grounds and forest with Larissa, students began departing for winter break. Great…, you mused. Utilizing the faculty mailboxes and concealing your identity would be even harder. You must wait again.

You weren’t really convinced Larissa would be under the impression that a student was creating these thoughtful gifts for her. She was too duty-driven to allow that specific morally grey area to open up. Rather, even other faculty and people outside of Nevermore would be less likely to be wandering the halls and gaining access to drop off the surprise.

With no way to deliver them, you began piling up heart wrenching compositions and playlists for the silver-haired blonde. At this rate, you wouldn’t be able to keep them hidden in your living quarters. Currently, you were keeping the CDs behind a hollowed out brick in your room. The brick wasn’t removable, but luckily you were able to phase your hand through into the open space where the mixes laid, safely awaiting their true home.

With the mixes halting, you could deduce Larissa was on edge. More restless. She constantly had the CDs already delivered playing, whether she had company or not. If you passed by her quarters throughout the day, you could hear the echo of the songs you had chosen for her. Beyond this, you also noticed her pacing more often and not relaxing her shoulders as much. She was usually never one to give manifestation to anxious energy. In an attempt to settle the taller woman’s mind, you wanted to keep her busy over the break.

Most of the faculty would be departing along with students. You wanted to stay behind with Larissa. You also…didn’t have anywhere to go. Your mother passed when you were young. Your father blamed you for her passing. No siblings. Any friends were either spending time with families of their own or were other faculty that had taken their leave until the spring semester began.

Your curiosity piqued, Why was Larissa staying? Was the school where she wanted to be or the only place she had? Regardless of the answers, you were set on making sure you two made the most out of winter break.

You and Larissa had taken to creating ice lanterns, even though Imbolc was more than a month away. They were just too gorgeous to pass up. In between breakfast and dinner together one evening, you surprised her with homemade sourdough starter. She had admitted in passing weeks ago that she never had the time to bake; you were determined to change that, so much so that you gave up your own starter that you had going for years.

Anything the two of you could realistically achieve over the break, you had written down on the back of an old music sheet. “Break Bucket List” you titled it. The list included incorporating audiobooks into your breakfast routine, painting in Nevermore’s art room, learning how to mold things from clay and silicone, gazing at the stars from the observatory and uncovering lore about them. It was surprising how many stars and formations were named after misogynist Greek and Roman myths. You and Larissa would take turns looking into the background of specific constellations to surprise the other with during these self-proclaimed astronomy sessions.

When knee-deep snow appeared overnight, you two couldn’t help but declare a snowball fight. These spontaneous moments radiated so much joy from the usually stressed and tense woman. You treated them as precious moments that could be ripped away at any time. They almost weren’t able to happen, and you wouldn’t take Larissa’s presence for granted.

Mid-fight you ran past her and once again tripped, cascading into the woman. Nervous about knocking over Larissa twice recently, you were about to apologize and reason that you were a music professor and not athletics coach for a reason. Before you could, though, the woman under you broke the tension by reaching her arms out, fisting snow, and smashing them over both of your ears with a mischievous cackle. Reeling from the surprise attack, you fell over to the side of her. You felt like personified ice cream sandwich. She quickly rose, anticipating the incoming payback.

“You’re going to pay for that! Let’s see how you like it,” you let out with a grunt.

Having already scrambled to her feet, Larissa taunted you with faux bashful, blinking eyelids, “Think you can reach it?” You proceeded to run around the taller woman, hopping up like an excited puppy to attempt to shove snow into her own playful face.

When you two were out of breath and needed a bit of a rest from the energetic activity, you settled her down on a bench between the back of Nevermore and the forest. You instructed her to close her eyes.

Once confirming she wouldn’t peek and her scandalized response that she would never, you went to work. All she could hear was snow moving about and strange, sharp chiseling.

When you felt satisfied, you told her to open for the grand reveal. Her gaze fell on an intricate ice sculpture. Giving her time to inspect it, you slowly began to pull wind through the piece in differing directions, making distinct notes and music erupt from the inanimate object.

Larissa looked at you utterly enamored. While your heartbeat picked up its pace at her admiration, you couldn’t pinpoint its exact meaning. The magical quality of the music coming from the snow’s transformation was enough to garner a look like that from anyone. You wondered if you should hope that her feelings are in any way similar to yours. Surely that wasn’t such an outrageous notion.

Technically, you had spent more nights falling asleep in her bed than your own recently. It seemed like you two never wanted the extra time to end. It was enjoyable experiencing Larissa’s more carefree side; it looked quite good on her. This desire to spend time, though, meant you two often moved into the bedroom to finish listening to podcasts, to read, to drink and chat. Try as you might, you felt so safe next to the woman. When sleep inevitably came, you could never fight it.

You understood how after your tired, often active, days you both fell asleep. You were less sure why every time you did sleep over, her hands snaked around your torso. You felt rigid the first few times, terrified she would awaken and angrily throw you out or brand you as predatory. As the nights with her arms reaching out to you continued, though, you began to lean into her embrace. Embarrassingly, you’ve even taken to nuzzling against her neck, breathing in her scent.

Sometimes guilt gnawed at you over these lingering touches. Other times it felt like such a relief to briefly experience comforts that you weren’t sure would ever come to fruition deliberately.

—

Even with your distractions, Larissa had taken to the bulletin board in the front hall of Nevermore to post a note seeking the identity of her secret admirer. Well, she didn’t phrase it like that exactly. Of course the head of the school didn’t post that she was being flirted with and pursued for anyone that found themselves on campus to read.

You considered a way to convey messages to her without immediately pointing to yourself. I mean, you can’t just pin a response to the board while only a few of the faculty and staff were here. You’re not sure why rom coms seem so straight forward, as if anyone in their right mind considers taking out an entire full page advertisement in a newspaper to correspond with the object of their desire. Then again, Larissa did gravitate towards 80’s power ballads. You briefly imagine standing outside her office with a boombox.

You did have an idea, though. You could move forward with a scavenger hunt, possibly leaving hidden messages/codes in your letters and mixes. You knew the brilliant and perceptive woman would be able to solve them, especially with her constant repetition of the music in her office. If you set all that up, you’re sure you could muster the courage to be waiting for her at the end when she figured it out.

—

Tagging: @lilsmeaux, @suckerforcate, @rickistheman, @tundra1029, @aster-loves-gwen, @poorwritingandstalecoffee, @lvinhs, @justcallmelittleone. If you'd like tagged in the future, just let me know. Also, I swear I have undiagnosed ADHD or ASD, so if you wanted tagged and aren't, I could ~not~ remember or read between the lines. Please let me know again! <3

[ystrike1]

The Strongest Characters in the World are Obsessed With Me - By Zion (7.5/10)

Are you tired of seeing the same harem over and over? Are you too chicken to try something that's actually different at the same time? Well, look no further. This otome fantasy is just dark enough. Just well written enough and just pretty enough to give you what you want. The endgame love interest is the most predictable choice though.

Dahlia Pesteros has a bad feeling. She's the daughter of a loveless but rich noble family. Technically, she's favored over her brother. Life is good, but then she gets hit with a bunch of weird memories.

She realizes that she's in an otome game. A dark one with no real happy ending. Dahlia's elder brother is the final boss. A handsome villain that gets executed. One of the many things the heroine must face. Hikan, that great evil, hates Dahlia. Why? Well he is a Trancendental. A type of special magic user with ultimate power. Transcendentals are why the Frederick Empire is as strong as it is. Unfortunately, power comes with some drawbacks in this universe. Transcendentals don't live long. They rarely make it to old age. Transcendentals are smart, strong, pretty...and lonely, jaded, and unstable. Imagine being loved because you're a weapon. That's the kind of thing that would drive anyone crazy. Transcendentals that lose control have to be put down like dogs. Raising one is a complex process...but Hikans parents sent him away. Dahlia is the "normal" daughter her parents wanted. They sent Hikan away, and ignored their cute daughter to boot. Hikan is still envious though, because their mother did hate him.

She called Dahlia a blessing, even though her second pregnancy killed her.

When Hikan returns from the exile his own mother imposed he has bad news. Father is dead. Dahlia doesn't react at all, because Father totally sucked. He wasn't affectionate with either of them, so the two siblings try to move on. Transcendentals are suspicious of others, and they are naturally cold. They're less emotional. So, Dahlia acts cute. She knows Hikan will kill her if she pisses him off. From there a delicate balancing act begins. In the beginning the siblings don't like each other. Dahlia wants to sell off her jewels and leave the country, but then the author dedicates about 20 chapters to believeable scenes. Believeable, gradual moments. By chapter 40 we know Hikan is a dangerous and lonely teenager desperate for validation. He's desperate enough to run the Pesteros family at the age of 16. It is admirable, even if he isn't always pleasant or happy. Dahlia gradually starts to care for her brother, and she worries about his deadly future. Where he gets executed and dies obsessed with a heroine that doesn't love him back.

Dahlia has a surrogate mom. Duchess Mary. The only person who visited when her parents started neglecting her. Mary is a Trancendental. No Trancendental can be turned away, so Mary visits the little girl often. Dahlia is still...a child. She has some past life memories, but no attachments to her other life. She needs Mary as an emotional support. Mary has a rough life. Her husband's dead. Her face was burnt and oh no...she's fodder.

Yup. The kind duchess is just a background character in the original story. Her Trancendental rage and slaughter ignites the main plot. Dahlia doesn't let her die. Dahlia can heal Trancendentals with her touch.

That's a big deal.

The Emperor hides her ability, because it could destabilize the nation. You see, Trancendentals live in constant pain. Power comes with a very high cost. Dahlia makes that cost 0. With her by your side you're a God.

My biggest problem with this series is the old heroine. Adalicia is not magical. She was the heroine of a DARK otome game where nothing gets fixed and everybody is crazy. She's only posing as a noble woman. She's actually an assassin. Not a meek lady. She becomes Dahlia's lady in waiting. Adalicia witnesses Dahila in action...and that's it. She becomes a supportive lady in waiting....there's no real reason for her to exist. She's kind of the lesbian option in the harem I guess??? She's obsessive like all the men but...um...she feels kinda pointless. She just babysits Dahila sometimes. She adores Dahila blindly.

It gets a bit boring.

This is how relevant she feels in a nutshell.

(Also rip my favorite character design. He's a side character. Bummer.)

The finale for season 1 is really, really good. It introduces the love interest in a really fun way. It shows off Hikans character development AND it establishes how fucked up the Trancendentals really are. You awaken around age 19 or 20. During that time you literally go insane. Hikan feels aggressively possessive of Dahlia. He almost accidentally kills her.

The second prince, Cedric, saves her. Cedric is good, but he's kind of boring. He feels...like the main guy in a harem. He has his moments, and flaws. He likes to go on adventures without telling the Emperor. He hates people. No really. Like most Trancendentals he has very little empathy. When Dahila puts her life on the line for Hikan he falls for her. He doesn't know about her powers. He genuinely likes her. That's great. It's nice when the main character doesn't get love solely because of their special powers.

Meldon is an illegitimate son who rises to power after he becomes a Trancendental.

(He's obsessed with Dahila.)

This is Duchess Mary's son.

That means he's the nice guy option.

(He's obsessed with Dahila.)

The Trancendentals are going to fight over her, because of her powers. It's inevitable. The last two harem members get added in season two, which feels like a slap. You and I know they're just there to pad the run time. Cedric changes his personality to be more appealing to Dahlia. No, literally. He does homework and he learns how to pretend to be nice. He puts in effort, but season two already feels weak as paper. The author is definitely milking this plot. I honestly think it should have ended after the finale fight. Like, with Cedric proposing and an engagement.

But we can't do that. This is an otome story, and we have to pretend and act like we don't know Cedric is her future husband.

[callsignspark]

Mar[r]y Me - part six

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, discussions of body image, one (1) drunk asshole, conversations on what it’s like to be a fat woman trying to date in today’s society, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 5.9k

previous part | series masterlist | main masterlist

note: happy Friday!! it's August here in the real world but it's Valentine's Day in the Mar[r]y Me universe, so what will these two do surrounded by love and pink hearts? can't wait to hear everyone's thoughts!

part six - pancakes

God, I made a mistake.

Bradley has suffered through five days of the same thought on a constant loop. His brain started up the second he walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs. Only getting short reprieves when he had to fly. Even being asleep wasn’t safe; Mary had been consuming his nights, wonderful dreams of being with her intermixed with bad dreams of having to watch her with another man.

He felt like he was living one of those nightmares for the last three songs, watching Mary dance and giggle with some guy in his twenties.

I should be the one making her laugh. My hands should be on her hips, not his.

He cursed Natasha for dragging them to this stupid Valentine’s Day speed-dating event. Except, the speed dating isn’t actually speed dating; it’s some sort of convoluted speed dancing.

As announced by the host, there are only two rules:

Every person must wear the wristband they received upon entry; the wristbands correspond to your relationship status, so respect the color code system.

If you’re dancing, you have to dance with a new person for each song.

“Unless you’re really hitting it off with your dance partner.” DJ Socket had added with a wink before starting the night off with a horrible remixed version of My Funny Valentine.

Natasha, Callie, and Mary had laughed at the bad song choice before throwing back a shot of tequila and shimmying their way to the dance floor, pink wristbands glowing under the disco ball.

According to the event flyer that had been spammed in the group chat for the last two weeks, a pink wristband meant single and ready to mingle.

Bradley watches as the infant with a bad haircut tries to hit on Mary to what he thinks is a Justin Bieber song, absentmindedly playing with his own wristband. White. Here for fun, not to flirt.

He’s having a terrible time.

“Rooster. Rooster? Bradley!”

The use of his real name snaps him out of his thoughts. “Sorry, Bob, what was that?”

“I asked if you were okay. You don’t look great.”

He feels his heart clench a little bit. He’s always had a soft spot for the bespectacled man, Bob paying attention to small things that others rarely caught. Though even a blind person could see the way Bradley is staring at Mary, the pining radiating beyond the two high-top tables the Daggers had claimed as theirs.

“Yeah, just tired. It’s been a long week.”

Bob raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth, but Harvard interrupts him before he can investigate further.

“It’s weird seeing the girls in dresses instead of their coveralls.”

“I’m just wondering how they convinced Callie to wear heels. Omaha practically had to bribe her to wear something other than her Vans to our wedding.” Fritz says, his red wristband - taken and in love - flashing when he takes a sip of his bright pink drink. “God, these drink specials are awful! This is the last time Phoenix gets to choose where we go.”

The boys laugh as his face twists in disgust. Natasha is great at many things, choosing a good bar is not one of them.

“We should have let Jake plan; he found that complex with the mini golf and everything. That was so much fun!” Aaron adds before turning to Javy. “Where is Jake? I thought he was coming.”

Javy shrugs. “He was supposed to be here, but he texted me and said he wasn’t going to make it. Something came up, apparently. He said everything was fine, so I’ll check on him tomorrow. Make sure he’s all good.”

“Mary looks really good.”

Bradley stiffens, his mood dropping from happy back down to pissed off as steam pours out of his ears. She doesn’t just look good. She looks amazing. The light green, satiny material of her dress is hugging her figure just right, showing off her curves in the most delicious way. The slit up her leg showing off the thighs he dreams about getting his hands on again.

She looks gorgeous.

But Harvard doesn’t get to say that about his girl.

She’s not your girl. You fucked up.

“There she is! Can I get you a drink, ma’am?” Harvard stands up, holding his bar stool steady while Mary climbs on, scooting it in when she’s settled.

“If you’re going up, I’ll take a water, please.” She smiles at him, cheeks flushed from dancing.

“You want anything stronger to go with that water?”

“Vodka sprite, if it’s not too much of a bother.”

“You got it, sweetheart; anything for my new backseater!” Harvard flashes his toothpaste commercial-ready smile at her before making his way through the crowd to the bar. Him and his pink wristband quickly getting lost in the masses.

“I missed something. Backseater?” Javy asks.

Bradley watches her laugh and lean on the table, grabbing a chip after Aaron pushes the basket toward her. “He’s just trying to be funny. We’re both headed up to Lemoore next week - I’m helping out on some repairs, and he’s doing some sort of mentor program? I don’t know exactly. Anyway, Cyclone suggested we drive together since we’re staying at the same hotel. I told Brigham he’s driving since he insisted on getting this godawful 30-foot pickup truck, which makes me his temporary backseater.”

“Make sure you don’t eat anything before riding with him, or you’ll paint the windshield.” Omaha jokes.

She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “Please. If I didn’t hurl after a greenhorn took me up and executed one very poor barrel roll before getting himself grounded, I think I can handle Harvard’s driving.”

“You’ve flown?”

“Was it an FA-18?”

“How do you fuck up a barrel roll?”

“Did you like it?”

Questions are hurled at her from every direction, all the boys interested in the fact that their favorite mechanic had been airborne in the backseat of a fighter jet before they knew her.

“I did like it!”

Bradley’s heart warms a bit when she answers his question first.

“It was an FA-18, and I think we technically hit Mach-1, but my brain has burned the trauma of that hop from my memory. It was fun until that bad maneuver because when I say greenhorn, I mean green. Like as fresh as you can possibly be.” She shutters, only partially joking. “But I didn’t throw up, and that’s a major point of pride for me.”

“It’s only because you hadn’t eaten yet that day.”

The warmth disappears, again, when she smacks Brigham’s arm after he puts her drinks down. “I told you that in confidence! And I think it still counts because I’m a civilian and have done none of the training you guys do.”

“How did you even get permission to fly?” Javy questions, stealing a sip of her water, grinning at her when she glares.

“When I was in Florida, I got close with some of the higher-ups, and one of them arranged for me to go on a simple flight so I could see what it’s like. It was really sweet of him!”

“Who did you sweet talk into getting in a jet?”

“He sweet-talked me! Actually, it was more like he manipulated me. It came up that I’d never been on a flight - which is totally normal for an engineer, by the way - and he egged me on until I agreed to go up.”

“Oh my god, you got suckered into a ride with a flight school newbie? Who managed that?”

“I don’t know if you guys know him. I don’t think he was in Pensacola when you were going through flight school, but it was Admiral-”

“Hey, baby, wanna dance?”

Her face changes immediately, annoyance spreading quickly. “No. I’ve already told you I don’t. Leave me alone.”

“Oh, c’mon, you know you want this-”

“The lady told you no. I suggest you listen to her before we make you listen.” Omaha threatens from his position across the table. Bradley is happy that Neil spoke up before him because he wouldn’t have been so nice about it.

The pushy asshole looks around the table and decides not to press his luck after seeing eight men puffed up, ready to defend their friend.

“What a dick! He had a red wristband on, and he still tried to hit on you!”

“Welcome to being a woman, Mickey. Doesn’t matter if you’ve told them no or if they have a partner. Men will be gross and overbearing if they think it’ll benefit them.”

She sinks back in her chair, sipping her drink and sending a small smile to the boys in thanks. The group disburses a bit, most joining Nat and Callie on the dance floor, leaving Mary sitting with Fritz, Bradley, and Bob.

“Hey, speaking of gross and overbearing, did you hear the rumor that Admiral Cain is coming to the program review next week?”

It perks her back up; she excitedly leans forward, happy to talk about something else.

“Oh! That’s not a rumor, Fritz. That’s 100% true. He’ll be presenting his case for increasing unmanned drone research. But he’s going first on Tuesday, and then he’s back in Washington that same afternoon, so thankfully, we’ll only have to deal with him for a few hours.”

“Thank god, I had to deal with him for a little bit when I was at Norfolk, and he was worst. I know drones are getting more popular for high-risk missions, but they’ll never be able to fully replace pilots.” Billy clinks his bottle against Mary’s glass when she holds it up, swallowing the last of his beer. “You’ll have to excuse me; it looks like my husband wants me to dance with him.”

Bradley watches Mary stare longingly at the dance floor, her eyes following the happy couple dance in perfect sync with each other.

If you hadn’t messed up, that could be the two of you out there.

“So, what parts of program review do you have to sit in on?”

Mary turns, a soft smile on her face - Bradley knows her soft spot for Bob matches his own. Both of them protective over the younger man who cares so much, yet so quietly.

“I have to be there for almost all of it. I’m presenting a few sections, plus I have to do a shop tour and demo, which will be uber fun.” She rolls her eyes, knowing how some admirals like to knit-pick at how a shop is run and organized. “All my free time this week will be finishing my slides and polishing my presentation.”

“Wow, on top of helping with Lemoore’s repairs? You’re gonna be busy these next two weeks.”

“Very busy, but we’ve already done the repairs I’m helping with down here, so theirs should go much smoother! But I'm genuinely excited for program review because I’ll get to see some people I worked with in Florida! I think I’m going to try and poach a few of them that I really miss.”

“You’re gonna steal your friends to work for you?” Bradley regrets the question when he sees her face falter for a split second, realizing his tone wasn’t as joking as intended.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it. They’re really smart and talented, plus it’d be nice to work with them again.”

The relief that breezes through his chest at her grin and kind tone quickly disappears when Harvard pops up and pulls her toward the dance floor.

“Hang- hang on!” She giggles, turning to Bob. “Would you mind keeping an eye on my purse while Brigham steps on my toes to bad 90s love songs?”

Bob’s, “No problem.” overpowers Harvard’s protests of, “I’m not gonna step on your foot again!”

She pecks his cheek, leaving a faint pink stain behind as she follows the Ohio man onto the dance floor. And for several songs, Bradley's stomach twists as he watches his two friends dance pressed close together.

“Why don’t you go dance with her?”

“She doesn’t want to dance with me.”

Bob scoffs. “You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Bradley, what happened with you two?”

He doesn’t answer; just keeps fiddling with the label on his beer and watching the dance floor. The two sit in uncomfortable silence for the first time in their friendship.

“I fucked up.” He confesses everything to Bob. The night on her couch, their interruption, the tiff just a few days ago. He doesn’t spare any detail, no feelings. “I still don’t know why I didn’t just let her explain! Even if I was mad that she was ignoring me, she had her reasons - she wouldn’t do something like that for no reason!”

Bob is stunned. He doesn’t know what to say to comfort his friend. None of the group’s theories had even been close to the reality of what happened.

“You can’t tell anyone what I just told you, not even Natasha!” Bradley is borderline frantic. “You’re the second person I’ve told, and I don’t know if Mary has told anyone, but I don’t want everyone knowing. I don’t want what happened to be the talk of the group.”

“I won’t tell anyone, Bradley. Not even Nat. But I do get bragging rights when the two of you finally get together.”

“That’s not gonna happen. I messed up too much, man.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

He looks where Bob is pointing, watching as Harvard twirls away with a pretty redhead, leaving Mary dancing by herself. They make eye contact, and he can see the gears in her brain working. She turns around, hips swinging hypnotically, and he loses his breath when she peeks over her shoulder at him. Bradley’s heart soars when she wiggles a finger at him.

She’s calling me over. Maybe I didn’t totally fuck this up.

His joy is short-lived. The same red wristband asshole as before getting in her space, trying to grab her ass as she pushes him away. Bradley practically falls out of his chair to get to her.

“Get away from me!” Mary pushes the stranger’s hands off and stumbles back from the force, colliding with Bradley’s chest as he comes to help.

He steps forward, angling his body to shield her as she tucks herself into his side. “She’s told you to leave her alone at least twice now. Walk away before we have a problem.”

The sleazy man rolls his eyes, “Whatever, man.”

“No, not “whatever,” man.” Bradley steps forward, disregarding Mary tugging on his arm. Her pleas for him to stop falling on deaf ears. “You’re going to apologize to her.”

“For what? The fat bitch probably liked it. She’s practically begging for it in that dress.”

Bradley doesn’t even think. He lunges, ignoring Mary’s yell for him to stop and taking the asshole down with one punch. He doesn’t get a second one, security interfering and escorting all three out.

The rest of the Daggers make their way outside, everyone awkwardly huddled together as Mary assures the bouncers that she is safe to leave with Bradley, that he’s her friend who was just protecting her from the other man’s unwanted advances.

She’s mad when she joins them. A quiet anger that's palpable, making them all stay quiet instead of joking around like usual.

“Thanks for planning this, Nat. It was really fun until about five minutes ago. I’ll text you about dinner.” She says to the girls, giving Bob a small smile when he hands over her clutch. “Bradley is going to drive me home, but you guys should keep having fun. Brigham, let me know when you want to leave tomorrow, and I’ll see the rest of you when I get back from Lemoore.”

Her clipped tone and her heels furiously clicking on the sidewalk are the only physical indicators of her anger. The group watches her go, stunned. In the year since they were introduced to Mary, it’s the only time they’ve seen her get close to losing her cool.

They had seen her defend herself against misogynistic pilots, making them feel foolish without even raising her voice. They watched her bite her tongue when admirals talked down to her because of her age, letting Mav or Cyclone handle it. In the past eleven months, they had witnessed her ability to handle difficult situations with poise and grace.

But tonight was too much.

After having to deal with yet another demeaning asshole and Bradley’s rash, unwanted heroics, the rage simmering below the surface of her skin was threatening to finally break through.

Bradley follows at a slower pace, keeping an eye on her but giving her space to breathe. He startles at someone grabbing his shoulder, turning with wide eyes to find Bob with a determined look on his face.

“Take her home and apologize; let her explain before you explain your side, okay?” Bradley nods, giving a small smile to his friend. “It’s all gonna be fine; you are made for each other. You can tell me all about how right I am tomorrow morning.”

He makes his way to the car, unlocking and opening the door for Mary, the tiny bit of hope from Bob’s pep talk disappearing when he realizes that she’s giving him the silent treatment. Climbing into the front seat and ignoring the hand he offers, closing the door herself and choosing to stare out the passenger window when Bradley sides into the Bronco.

The drive to her house is quiet; the only sound is the oldies station Bradley turns on in hopes of getting Mary to talk to him. The closer they get to their destination, the more he goes from sad to annoyed.

I was just trying to help. She doesn’t need to ignore me.

They’re both fuming by the time he pulls into the driveway. She slips out of the car, hoping he’ll just go home, but he’s following behind her to the house. One step over the threshold, and he can’t take it anymore.

“Are you gonna stop ignoring me, or should I just go home?”

He watches her shoulders stiffen and feels his stomach drop her eerily calm expression. “I don’t know. Are you actually going to listen to me? Or are you just going to tell me that we should just forget this happened, too?”

“Don’t put that on all on me! This isn’t all my fault! You ignored me for an entire month!”

“Yes! Yes, I did!” She slams her hand on her kitchen island. “And then, when I tried to explain, you didn’t let me say anything! You just said we should forget everything that happened and move on! So I tried to forget! I tried to respect your wishes! But tonight, all you could do was watch me dance with other men!”

His mouth drops open; he didn’t realize she had noticed.

“Yeah! I noticed - you pilots have all the subtly of an elephant in a firework shop with its tail on fire! It’s one or the other, Bradley! We either forget what happened and we see other people, or we talk about what happened and go from there! There’s no in-between option where you get to be upset whenever I flirt with a man that’s not you! So what’s it gonna be? Are we moving on, or are we having a conversation?”

He can’t get words to come out. He knows what he wants, but he can’t speak.

“Well, Bradley?”

Say something, dumbass! She’s not going to wait forever.

She scoffs, rubbing her hands over her face. “I’m going to shower. If you’re still here when I’m done, we’ll talk. If you’re gone, well, then I have my answer.”

He’s frozen in her dining room, wincing back to reality at her bedroom door slamming shut. His phone is ringing before he realizes what he’s doing.

“Rooster? Everything okay?”

“I think I fucked up.” He runs a hand through his hair, messing it up even further. “We fought, man. She noticed I was watching her tonight and yelled at me for not letting her talk last week.”

“Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“I’m in her living room.”

“You’re still there? She didn’t kick you out?”

“She said if I’m still here when she’s done showering, we’ll talk about everything.”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Bradley.” Bob’s eye-roll is audible on the other end. “Sit down and wait for her to finish showering so you can talk. If she wanted you to leave, she would have no problem sending you packing.”

“You think?”

“She was two seconds from throwing a wrench at my head last week, and I’m her favorite.”

“Well, I don’t know about favor-”

“I am. Now, sit down, shut up, and wait for her.”

The line clicks, and he decides to listen to the advice, depositing his wallet and keys on her entryway table before sitting on her couch. Sinking into the middle cushion, he thinks about the last time he’d been on this piece of furniture.

“You’re so hard.” He’s not sure why she’s surprised. She has to know she’s had him on the verge of an erection since she opened her door this morning.

“You’ve been pressed against me for two hours in these tiny little shorts with no bra on, and you smell good.” He shrugs, feeling sheepish as he explains what got him going.

“Bradley..” The way she says his name borders on a moan, and he can’t help the noise he makes when she pulls his hair.

If she does that again, I’m going to cum.

He grabs her ass and pulls her as close as he can, brushing his other hand up her thigh and boldly dipping into the leg of her pajama shorts, enjoying the scalloped edge of her panties. Their lips brush, and he’s about to move his hand to the gusset of her underwear - he needs to know how wet she is for him - when they’re interrupted.

Between reliving that moment and crafting his apology, he doesn’t hear the shower turn off or her footsteps coming down the hall, only noticing her when she sits in the chair furthest from him.

“I’m sorry-” They start to apologize at the same time.

“I’d like to go first if you don’t mind?” She requests, taking a deep breath when he nods in agreement. “I want to start by apologizing for the last month. It was wrong of me to kick you out that night and then ignore you for a month, and I wish I hadn’t done it.”

“Why did you?”

“Because I got scared. That night… I never do things like that. I never make the first move or act that bold. So the fact that I just climbed on your lap like that - without thinking about it or second-guessing myself - freaked me out. By the time I got Annie back to sleep, I had completely psyched myself out, and I was convinced you didn’t actually want me.”

“That’s- I- did I give any indication that I didn’t want you?” He sputters the question, unsure how she could think that.

“It’s nothing you did, Bradley. It’s all on me, my insecurities. Men rarely - if ever - have had the same… enthusiasm that you did. You were great; this is a me problem.”

“I don’t understand.” He leans forward, wanting to get closer without crossing the boundary she set with her seat choice. “If everything was so great, what went wrong?”

“I’m fat, Bradley.”

He sits up straight, shocked at her words. What does that have to do with anything?

“I’m sorry, I still don’t get what the problem is.”

“I know you don’t understand what it’s like to be a woman, but please believe me when I tell you it’s hard. People are constantly policing and judging your body. Men will just tell you what they think of your body, what they think is wrong with it - unprovoked. And it’s even worse when you’re fat.” She leans back, hugging a pillow to her chest. “I know you didn’t do any of that. But I’ve been fat since I was a kid, so I’ve heard it all for years. And not just men, but from family too. It’s hard to shake those experiences, to ignore the insecurities and just enjoy the moment.”

They sit in silence for a minute, Mary refusing to make eye contact while Bradley tries to figure out his next move.

“Can I come over there?”

The question surprises her, but she nods. His choice to kneel in front of her is another surprise; he can tell from her eyebrows reaching her hairline.

“I’m gonna take this, okay?” He gently tugs the pillow from her hands, tossing it on the couch so there’s nothing between them. When Bradley sees her shirt, his breath hitches in his throat.

She’s wearing his sweatshirt.

“Sorry,” she says shyly, noticing his stare. “I’ve been wearing it to bed; I promise I’ll wash it.”

And as much as he wants to linger in the revelation that she’s been sleeping in his clothes, he pushes through.

“Mary, I’m going to be very honest with you because I need you to understand how much I wanted you that night. Sitting there with you in my lap? That’s the hardest I’ve ever been; I think about it all the time. How warm and soft you were.” He slips his hands into hers. “And I know what you look like. I like the way you look. I like everything about you. Everything. Even the things you don’t like about yourself. You’re so gorgeous.”

He wipes her cheek, brushing a tear away.

“This past month hasn’t changed how I feel about you. I still want you. I’ve never not wanted you. I’ve had a crush on you since the moment Danielle dragged you through the front door of the Hard Deck.”

“Bradley…”

“Not done, still my turn.” He leans up, getting closer to her to get his point across. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to fix this sooner. I was trying to give you the space you wanted, but that was a mistake. After the first week, I should have told you how I was feeling, what I wanted.”

“What do you want now?” Her voice is tiny, and his heart breaks at how uncertain she sounds.

“Still you, honey. I know I said we should forget what happened, but I don’t want to forget. I want to do that again without getting interrupted this time. I want to take you out on a date. I want you. If you’ll have me.”

He watches Mary wrestle with her thoughts, her mouth opening and closing, not sure how to say what she’s thinking. “Just tell me, Mary, whatever it is. I want you to be honest with me.”

“I want that too. I want you. But I’m not sure if I’m ready for it right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“How long have you been flirting with me?” She nudges him back, scooting forward in her chair so her knees brush his chest.

He doesn’t understand the question but answers anyway, wrapping his hands around her legs, stroking his thumbs over her soft skin. “Since that night we met, I didn’t do too good of a job since you spent the evening playing darts with Jake, but that’s how long.”

“That was last January. You’ve been flirting with me for an entire calendar year. And I’m so oblivious that I didn’t even realize you were interested until you were grabbing my ass and moaning against my mouth.” She rubs her face. “So I just need some time to process this because I never thought this - us -could be an option.”

“Okay, how much time are you thinking? How do you want to do this?”

“I don’t know… there’s no free time. I’m gone this week, and next week is program review and prepping you guys for deployment. Then you’re in the middle of the ocean for two months.”

“Doesn’t really leave a lot of time for us, does it?” He jokes, squeezing her calves. “We’ll be back the first week of May. There’ll be a few days of debriefing, but then I’m on leave. Why don’t we grab dinner that Sunday? It can be as friends or as something more, whatever you want - whatever you’re ready for at that point. How does that sound?”

“You’re okay with waiting that long?”

“Mariella, it’s been a year, and nothing has changed since I saw you in that red dress. A few extra weeks where we’re just friends? That’s nothing if it means you’re comfortable.”

“I’m sorry I’m so bad at this.”

“Stop it. This isn’t all on you; I haven’t been the best either.” Bradley’s voice is firm, making sure she’s not placing the entire blame on herself. “We’ll work on it. We’re smart people; we can figure it out.”

“Thank you for being so understanding. I really am sorry about how I acted.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

Feeling lighter than they have in weeks, they look at each other and laugh when Mary yawns, her face scrunching up.

“Okay, honey, I think it’s time to get you to bed.” He stands, pulling her into a hug. “I’ll call you when you’re at Lemoore, okay? We’ll talk about our days, and you can complain about Harvard.”

“Why would I complain about Brigham?” She blinks up at him, her eyebrows creasing after a second. “Wait! Are you saying goodbye? You can’t drive home right now; it’s too late!”

He tries to argue but is cut off by her finger pointing at the clock, the two hands telling him it’s almost three in the morning. “Shit, I didn’t realize it was so late.”

“C’mon.” She pulls on his hand, leading him down the hall.

“What are we doing?”

“Going to bed?” She squeaks when he abruptly stops, tugging her off balance.

“Mary, I’m sleeping on the couch.”

Her face is baffled. “Bradley, you’re too tall; it won’t be comfortable. We can share my bed; we’re adults. We can handle it.”

His heart thumps. He wants nothing more than to crawl into bed with her, but he’s afraid of how his body might react to being next to her all night.

“Mary, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“You won’t. I also want you to be comfortable, so if you don’t want to share, I’ll take the couch, and you take my bed.”

“But-”

“This is the whole communication thing we just talked about. Believe me when I say that sharing my king-sized bed with you for one night won’t make me uncomfortable.”

Bradley stares into her eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation. “Okay, lead the way then, Vertucci.”

It’s awkward for a moment in her bedroom, the two of them trying to navigate this new situation together. But after some blushing and a few stuttered words, they figure it out. He’s just finished brushing his teeth when they discover that Bradley’s preferred side of the bed matches hers.

“Two peas in a pod.” He jokes as he starts to climb into bed, heart fluttering at the bashful smile on her face.

“What are you doing?”

He freezes, covers pulled back with his knee raised. “Uhhh… getting into bed?”

“Not like that, you’re not.” His wide eyes must give away his confusion and panic because she continues. “Bradley, you are not climbing into my bed, which has nice fresh sheets, with those clothes you wore to the club. God knows what’s on those chairs we sat on.”

“So what am I supposed to do?”

“You are wearing underwear, right?” He nods, feeling baffled by how this night has progressed. “Then strip, you’re sleeping in your undies.”

Bradley stands there, looking at her snuggled under her quilt, bathed in the soft light of her nightstand lamp, and still wearing his name on her arm. Based on how serious she looks, he’s pretty sure she’s unaware of how flirty her words sound. If she was any other woman, he would make an effort to flirt back, try his best to be sexy as he undresses. Turn it into a striptease.

But it’s Mary, and they just got back to a good place.

So he undresses how he does when he’s alone. Unbuttoning his black shirt methodically, taking note of how her breath hitches when he pulls the tight material off, but not doing anything about it. If he has any control over their situation, there will be plenty of opportunities in the future to make her lose her breath.

He does allow himself to make eye contact while he undoes his jeans, unable to pass up the chance to watch her watch him. He sees her scan his body, can see the hunger in her eyes, can hear the small gulp when she sees the waistband of his underwear appear. He stays steady, folding the pants and draping them over his shirt before slipping under the covers, keeping a respectful distance between them.

“Gonna turn the light out?”

She blinks at him as she processes the question, her eyes hazy from the late hour, and he thinks about how he would love to have this view every night for the rest of his life. He watches as she rolls over, eyes slipping down to the skin that’s exposed when she leans to turn the lamp off. She ends up closer when she rolls back towards him; he can feel the heat of her body radiating towards him.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Mary’s voice is soft, like being too loud will ruin the small bubble they’ve created for themselves. “Do you like pancakes?”

The question makes him think of his mom, how she used to make pancakes on special occasions and sometimes just because it was Tuesday. He never makes them for himself.

“They’re my favorite. Do you make good pancakes?”

“I make the best pancakes.” He can’t see her face, but he can hear her smile. “Night, Bradley.”

He mummers good night back, enjoying the way the mattress moves as she gets comfortable. The scent of her shampoo drifts over him, resurrecting the question that he’d been asking himself for a month.

“Mary? Can I ask you a question?” His voice is quiet, scared to ruin things but needing to know the answer.

She hums, “What’s up?”

“That night. If we hadn’t gotten interrupted, what do you think would have happened?” It’s quiet. He can hear her hands playing with the edge of the sheet, fingers nervously folding and unfolding the cotton. “I’m sorry, you don’t have-”

“No, it’s okay, Bradley.” A hand brushes his chest, warm fingers ghosting over his skin in search of his hand. She continues once their fingers are intertwined. “If we hadn’t been interrupted, we would have had sex. We would’ve made out for a while, and then I would have ridden you right there on the chaise.”

“Fuck…”

She makes a small noise of agreement. “I don’t know about after, though, if we would have had a better go of things that we have. It might have been worse, I’m not sure.”

“Can’t change the past. I’m just glad we’re fixing things now.”

“Me too.” Mary presses a small kiss to the tip of his fingers, squeezing his hand before rolling over. “Good night, Bradley; sleep well.”

“Night, Mary.”

I think I’m falling in love with you.

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fic tag | credit for dividers here

[lovingonryles]

Could you write about ding dong ditching at night time with hobie 🤭 could it also be romantic

I. LOVE. THIS. TYSM ANON <333 also, i AM LITERALLY SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS TOOK FOR HOW SHORT THIS IS, school just started and i have no motivation 😭

pairing: hobie brown x gn!reader

summary: ding-dong ditching with hobie

warnings: platonic or romantic, take it as you will, but other than that, none i don’t think? correct me if I’m wrong

word count: 448, should take about three and a half minutes to read

listen to: fell in love with a girl by the white stripes

HOBIE, FOR THE love of god, we’re gonna get caught!”

“wha’? you scared?” he teased. you only rolled your eyes at him, huffing as you shoved your hands in your hoodie pockets.

you two had just gotten back from a hang out, and while walking to his apartment, he had the perfect idea to go ding-dong ditching.

of course, you didn’t find it funny. interrupting people this late for no reason was disrespectful. but, hobie insisted on it, saying “isn’ gonna kill anybody.”

so that’s how you ended up here, standing in front of some stranger’s door. you felt your chest hurt in future guilt for whoever this was. you held your hand up, about to ring the doorbell, but you just couldn’t.

“come on, is’ not tha’ hard! lemme do it for ya.” he quickly pressed the doorbell before running down the hall as fast he could, ducking behind a wall. you ran after him and cursed him silently for his antics.

a few seconds later, the door opened, revealing a, clearly tired, college kid. he looked around a few seconds before rolling his eyes and walking back in. “see? i’s fun.” you looked up at him, just rolling your eyes.

it took a few more times of letting hobie do it before you finally worked up the courage to do it yourself. you quickly rang the doorbell, and ran to where the person wouldn’t be able to see you and him.

this time, it opened up to a middle aged woman in glasses. “hello?” her voice was so nasally, you felt bad for having to hold back laughter.

she looked around a few times before speaking again, saying “i’ll report you if you don’t come out right now!”

but, you and hobie just stayed hidden. she sighed before walking back inside. as soon as you heard the door shut into place, you both burst out laughing. “okay, okay, you’re right, this is kinda fun,” you managed to say between fits of laughter.

so, you two kept running the apartment complex, leaving people confused when they opened their doors to nothing. it wasn’t until you were on your now 10th run when somebody came down the hall.

you turned your head to the side to see a security guard. typically, there wasn’t much security in the building, or really any at all, but you figured out quick enough he was only here because of you two.

he told you two off, giving you a warning before leaving. so, you both walked back to hobie’s apartment in defeat. as soon as he opened the door, he stood in the doorway, smirking down at you. “worth it?”

“worth it.”

[sh1-n0bu]

Ayo heard you want horny brainrots well I (🦝) have been summoned.

I don't know what your preferences are. Men, women, both, neither but personally I would fuck just about anything that is off age and willing so that being said

I absolutely adore Beidou. She is so fucking hot. She's powerful, strong willed, breathtakingly gorgeous and overall just step on me, captain I am actually begging. On top of that, she wields a claymore, the back amd shoulder muscle she must have? On God?? Yes, MA'AM.

Realistically she probably has a bunch of scars and a sun tan and overall I think Beidou might be the hottest woman in all of Genshin. Genshin has many hot women but no one surpasses her. My queen. My goddess. My love. My main since day ONE. (that's a lie but she was in fact the forst character I pulled)

Alright I'm going to take my brain and wring it out like a wet towel to give you some more asks. Cya in the next one

✿ 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙮 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚 ♡︎

characters: beidou x gn! reader

warnings: fluff, angst, there will be nsfw but it’s not as wild as my other posts, both reader and beidou are switch, cute domestic shits, kazuha being y’alls adopted son (kinda)

notes: 🦝anon, my beloved, i have already made it clear that i’m a raging bisexual so yes, women♥️. women, men, sexy human look alike puppets with god and inferiority complex, idc gimme them all! went with head cannons format with this one i hope you don’t mind. also i’m so sorry my beloved 🦝 anon, i took so long to answer😭😭

aahhh yes beidou

i’m pretty sure everyone took one look at her and went “i’m sat”

and yes 🦝 anon she would have the muscles, sun tan i mean come on she stays out in the sea for as long as she wants, scars and damn did i mention muscles whew it’s getting hot in here

absolutely would spoil tf out of you

jewels, foods, all kinds of trinkets from the places she’s been to before

and if you were to talk it out with her and won’t get seasick easily, she won’t hesitate to ask you to come with her on her ship alongside the crux

after basically adopting kazuha, you two would almost become his pseudo parents in a sense

beidou is the fun carefree mom while you are the parent that frets over him as if he’s a baby

and everytime she sees you scolding kazuha over the smallest of things such as scratching his pretty face she won’t hesitate to tease you in all kinds of ways

general nicknames would be “darling” “your highness”(teasingly) “my treasure”

“[NAME]! MY TREASURE! GUESS WHO CLAPPED THE BIG NOBUSHI GUYS’ ASSES BAREHANDED!”

“OH MY ARCHONS BEIDOU YOU’RE BLEEDING!!!”

if you were to ever kiss her scars or wounds while treating her she would just melt

“ahaha… oh darling, what did i ever do to deserve you?”

due to her past of being hated by the village she was taken in, sometimes beidou would have a very horrific and detailed nightmares or thoughts of you leaving her because she is ‘cursed’

would hate to burden you but will gently stir you awake to ask for cuddles and kisses

“i-i’m sorry, treasure. i-i just… please? hold me?”

please don’t degrade her even as a joke

since you’re someone so dear to her heart, even if she were to laugh it off as a joke on the outside, she would be thinking all sorts of bad thoughts on the inside

i feel like she would give the best hugs and piggyback rides

if you’re both walking around and you’re getting tired or wounded, she won’t hesitate to squat down in front you or carry you bridal style

is so so incredibly gentle with you

she knows she’s strong, she knows she’s powerful i mean she struck down haishan, the leviathan while visionless

and due to that knowledge she’s afraid she might accidentally hurt you in some way, even when she knows you’re not some fragile doll

i can’t really see her being a sub honestly

i feel like she would be either a switch or a soft dom

is into face-sitting and i cannot stress this enough

whether it’s you sitting on her face with your juices gushing and squelching, your legs trembling to hold yourself up she won’t stop until she’s satisfied

“shh it’s okay darlin’ you’re doing sooo good. come on sit on my face, i wouldn’t mind and you know that”

or her sitting on your face as she grinds her slicky pussy into your mouth while moaning and calling you a good girl/boy as she grips your hair

it doesn’t matter which one it is, she’ll take it

will overstimulate you but in the gentlest way you get what i’m saying?

“aww there there. come on you can cum again. you can cum again right darlin’? yes you can treasure. come on cum for me. you can do it”

or it’s you absolutely worshipping every inch of her body

“haaangg~ oh yes, that’s it. keep mmggff! keep going. ah yeah, you’re making me feel so good treasure~”

sex with her would generally be very soft, slow and filled with praises

aftercare would be you two cuddling together after cleaning each other up and just talking of small topics like today’s weather, the next destination, which destination to go to next etc etc

just,,,, beidou🥹🫶

[bibiwrld]

ANARCHY🎸⚡️|Hobie Brown

previous: –eight.

–nine.

HOBIE'S POV

"Ya gonna be silent the whole drive?" I eyed her from the corner of my eye.

She was a bit startled at the sudden sound of my voice as we sat in a long silence. "Oh..um, sorry."

"No need to be sorry, love." I took a right, my hands grip the wheel tightly. " 's just that I wanted to hear you talk is all."

"Oh." She said softly. "What should I talk about?"

"Anythin' you want, doll." A smirk played at my lips.

"I really like cake, cupcakes, really sweet stuff." She began. "My favorite color is pink, I used to competitively play tennis."

I switched lanes, then glanced at her, holdin' onto every single word she said.

"Really? Tennis?" I cocked a brow. "Why'd you stop?"

"I got tired of it, it was a sport my parents wanted me to play." She replied.

"I like that. Think it's real cool you stopped doin' something you didn't want to do." I turned the wheel.

"Really?" She asked me softly.

"Yeah, it's pretty badass." I grinned at her, slowly pulling into an apartment complex.

She smiled back at me, swear there were sparkles in those beautiful eyes of hers.

I parked up, turned off the car and looked at her.

"When am I gonna see you again?" I finally asked. "I really want to see you again."

She bit her bottom lip, shyly looking at me.

God, don't look at me like that woman.

I lowered my eye lids at her. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like wha—mmph!"

I leaned over and smashed my lips onto hers. I was so hungry for her. My hands cupped the sides of her face, pullin' her in and deepenin' our kiss.

Her hands found my vest, tuggin' and pullin' on it, bringin' me closer to her.

I pulled away to catch my breath. "I wanted to kiss you this whole fuckin' time." I took off my seatbelt, inchin' closer to her.

She breathed heavily, her chest heavin' while her eyes narrowed seductively at me. "Me..me too."

"Fuck." My thumbs caressed both sides of her face, as I roughly reconnected our kiss. My eyes closed shut as our lips danced against each other.

"Hobie." She moaned into the kiss, our tongues clashin' together.

My hands moved from her beautiful face, to me caressing the back of her neck. "Yeah?" My words were a bit muffled.

She focused on my bottom lip, gently stretchin' it with her teeth. I could feel my erection growin'. It was probably pokin' out of my underwear.

Oh how badly I wanted her gaggin' on it.

She slowly pulled away, her eyes desperately lookin' into mines. "I..really..want to see you again too."

I softly nodded my head, my eyes starin' deeply into hers. "Yeah? How about tomorrow? What time do you get off from work?"

"3." She answered, licking her lips.

"I pick you up from home at 5 and take you somewhere." I played with the hair on the back of her head. "It's a date, sounds like a plan, yeah?"

She nodded focusin' on my lips.

He smirked. "You wanna kiss me, don't you Sasha?" I put a thumb on her lips.

She nodded once more.

"So honest." I cracked a smile, removin' my thumb and placing a wet kiss on her lips.

Our teeth softly clashed against each other's, but that didn't stop us at all. She moaned into my mouth, her hands squeezin' my arms.

" You're so fuckin' hot." I breathed out, dippin' my face into the crook of her neck, leavin' wet kiss trails.

My teeth softly tugged at her skin, while I sucked on her neck, replacin' the old love bites.

"Hobie." She cried out softly, throwin' her head and exposin' more of her pretty little neck.

My free hand cupped her braless breast through the shirt I gave her. Her nipples were erect and poked through. "So hard."

She squirmed when I pinched and tugged softly at her nipple. I pulled away from her neck and looked her, now teasin' both of her breasts.

Her eyes were squeezed shut.

"Hey."

Her eyes peeled open, a moan escapin' her lips.

"Keep your eyes on me." I told her.

She nodded quickly, meltin' into my touch.

"Good girl." I muttered against her skin. I found her lips once more, gettin' drunk off the taste of her. My hand found a way to her thighs, rubbin' her inner thighs slowly.

She mewed at my touch, makin' my cock twitch.

I stare at her thighs for a moment and traveled back up to her face, givin' her a peck on her jaw. "We should stop here for tonight." I readjusted myself in my seat and tried fixin' my hard on.

"You're right." She agreed, tryin' to collect herself.

"I really want to..it's just that I don't want Miguel to bite my head off if I come back late." I rubbed my temples.

She giggled cutely, makin' me turn my head.

"So cute, you have a curfew." She joked.

" 's not a curfew." I crossed my arms. "I don't follow rules and orders, I decide if I want to or not."

She giggled again.

I like hearin' that.

"Sure, Mr. Brown." She teased. "If you don't follow rules, you'd stay."

I looked away, fightin' back a smile, "I said I decide if I want to stay or not, and tonight's just one of the nights I decide to listen to the rules."

"Whatever you say."

I turned my head to look at her with a smirk on my face. "Goodnight, Sasha."

"Goodnight, Hobie." She smiled at me.

I slowly leaned over and placed a kiss on her forehead. I leaned back and it took everythin' in me not to kiss those lips.

The way she looks at me should be criminal.

" 'low it." I told her.

"Hm?" She titled her head.

A put a hand out, gesturing for her to stop. "Just stop."

"Stop?" She laughed. "Don't know what you're talking about, but okay." She opened the car door and got out.

I huffed in my seat, scratchin' my scalp. As much as I wanted to go all the way, I had to get back to the tour bus before Miguel becomes a pain in my arse.

I watched as she walked up the stairs and entered into her apartment. Seein' that she safely went into her apartment, I started the car and drove off.

🔆

Today we moved the tour bus to a different venue  because we were gonna perform tomorrow night.

I should probably tell Sasha about that.

We had just finished the sound test, now we were headin' back to the bus.

"Hobes." Pavitr called for me.

I turned my head to him while I chugged down some water.

"You seem a to be in a good mood, did something happen last night when you took Sasha home?" A playful grin slowly appeared on his face, while he bumped into my side.

I moved the bottle from my lips and closed my eyes and shrugged.

Gwen joined. "So you're not telling us?" She opened the tour bus and walked in.

With my eyes still closed, I ignored them. I walked in after Miles and sprawled over one of the smaller chairs.

"Come on man, why're you being so secretive?" Miles groaned from the couch.

"Maybe some things ain't any of your guys' business." I finally said. "Just 'low it."

Pavitr sighed. "You're so mean. Anyways, we should get going to the café you guys."

"Okay, after this game. I'm gonna absolutely demolish Gwen on this level." Miles kept his eyes focused on the screen while pressin' buttons on the controller.

"In your fucking dreams." Gwen challenged.

I checked my phone. It was 4:50.

I leaned up off the couch and stretched. "See you little pests later."

"Where are you headed off to?" Gwen asked curiously, still focused on the game.

"Shit." Miles groaned.

Clearly Gwen beat his ass in that game.

"None of your beeswax, Gwendy." I put my hands in my pockets and leaned into her face tauntingly.

She rolled her eyes, pushin' me out of the way. "You're hiding something."

"Hide?" I chuckled. "Even if I was hidin' somethin', you stooges couldn't even figure it out."

"Did you just basically call us stupid?!" Pavitr asked in disbelief.

"Yeah." I answered with a grin on my face before walkin' out.

💐

Next part: –ten.

Tags: @urmotherswhor3 @gwendolyngonzalez @kay-i-guess

[thepunchingbag]

Should the Atton and the Exile get into a relationship after the game ends, dear lord god it would be a mess. And I say that as someone who actually ships these two war criminals.

Firstly, it'd be the mother of all learning curves for both of them. For Atton, I headcanon this is his first relationship he's ever had that isn't just casual sex or sex for credits or sex followed by assassination. So, there's lot of hangups. Plus he's emotionally overwhelmed despite trying really, really hard to play it cool. He's not used to someone actually... sticking around. He loves it and he hates it (being the messed up, strange juxtaposition of a man he is). He's got some major self-sabotaging tendencies, so leave it up to him to do/say something that would put their relationship on thin ice too.

Added to that, he probably feels like ANY moment Meetra's going to come to her senses and break the whole thing off. A really screwed-up part of him kind of wants her to. Because, who are they kidding, this is never going to work out. Because he's getting tired trying to camouflage that he breaks out in a nervous sweat at even the thought of her running head-first into battle - sure, he's always been concerned but now it's gone into hyperdrive. Because this is some sort of warped perversion of karma where he gets rewarded for all the fucked up shit he's done; he should be face down in a ditch somewhere, not sharing a bed with a woman way out of his league. Because he's painfully aware Meetra's standards are pathetically low, and he sort of wants her to do better than him. Then again if they ever did break it off - he would never, and I mean literally never, get over it.

I bet there's a lot of "I'm going for a smoke, I'll be right back" moments where he goes off and just breaks down.

And, I headcanon, thanks to her upbringing in a religious cult the Jedi Order, Meetra's over here seeing the Darkside in everything. The Catholic guilt Jedi Order's hangups - strong with this one, it is. They argue over who's going to clean the flux capacitors, she cusses him out, and she worriedly checks her face to make sure her eyes aren't glowing red. She's leading him astray (Atton's rolling his eyes in the background). She's a selfish, sad excuse of a failed Jedi and she's dragging him down with her. Etc, etc, I don't know, despite the fact she's so absolutely done with the Order, she still spent her childhood in a Jedi monastery where she had been indoctrinated/taught in that tradition and the mindset is hard to break. Also, the Force bonds have been an ongoing existential crisis for her since she learned about her fun little "talent" - she's always side-eyeing the situation, secretly thinking that maybe she's mindfucking him into loving her. Even after they grow close, it's always in the back of her mind. Maybe she's just using him to leech life/power off of him like some sort of ghoulish Force vampire.

Still, I think Meetra's the confident one in the relationship and she's ultimately not the sort to back down from a challenge. I think she's more than willing to call Atton out on his BS, and he's good at giving her perspective/a reality check on her martyr complex.

And that's not even getting into the ex-combat veteran PTSD double whammy, or Atton's misogynist vibes.

They obviously are shippable but my god they'd be a hot mess.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

A tommy with a wife with a big libido part two please? Or perhaps a story of them rather than a headcanon?

Dear Anon,

This is a story one. Hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Description of shit parents, Reader getting bruises from being held too tightly by her mother. kinky office sex during a party. Slight dom/sub vibes.

Tommy hated seeing his wife in such a state. It was the unfortunate time of the year when an obligatory visit with the inlaws was unavoidable. Her parents were…. Complex. Always loved to brag about the man her daughter married all the riches, fancy parties, and massive house, but when they would come around as family it was a very different story. 

Always rude about Gypsy traditions, hesitant to touch the silverware, and always comments about her weight. They learned a couple years ago not to talk about the children in his presence. Doesn't mean she doesn't call you up to give you nonsense advice. This was not the house for modern ways. 

He watched as you hosted the small gathering. His eyes caught the look on Esme’s face as your cousin tried explaining something in a shrill voice. He almost laughed at the dead expression on her features, she was a lucky find for the family. For a moment he thought about how she was always at your side no matter what. A small pang of guilt for how he had treated her in the past. 

Bloody woman making me turn soft. 

He shook the thought off as your father approached. 

“So Thomas.” He was a plump man with an awful mustache. The tone of distaste in his voice never faltered when addressing him. “Looks like it was another successful year.” 

“That’s generally what happens when you're willing to work hard, Harold. How did the deal with the Carrey family go?” He asked in his usual uninterested tone despite knowing the answer.

“They decided to go with another idea. Pity really, but not everyone can afford the best.” He puffed out his chest. Thomas wondered why he decided to make this relationship so difficult, especially on his only daughter. 

He watched you remain tense in your mother's grip. If it were anyone else's hand on your arm holding you in place he would have cut their fingers off slowly. Your father seemed to have something better to talk about with one of your relatives, leaving him in peace. 

“She’s going to lose circulation in that arm.” Polly sat down next to him looking thoroughly pissed off. “Are we not enough for her? Doesn't make sense to carry all this dead weight.” 

“Pol. It’s her family, it’s hard for her.” 

“As someone who looks on her the way a mother should, it's even harder on me.” Polly lit a cigarette. “Don’t just leave her to the rats!” She hissed giving his arm a shove. He finished the last of his drink and got up. 

Walking over across the room, his eyes wandered along your backside. Perhaps that’s the reason you were both so tense and tired? Your usual physical appetite had been pushed aside over the tremendous weight of this awful party. Maybe he could find a way to help you out....

He came to your side sliding his arm around your waist, forcing your mother to release you. 

“If you’ll excuse us.” He said gracefully pulling you towards the hallway. He didn't give a reason or an excuse because they didn't deserve one. 

“Tom no! You promised me there would be no business” You whispered and he kept his composure guiding you down the hallway. 

Once the door was shut behind them you really started to kick up a storm. 

“I swear to God Thomas I will burn this house down.” He kept guiding you back to eventually press up against his desk. “I will ruin your life I swear it, whatever this is it needs to stop right now.” 

He lifted you up to perch on the top of his desk. Hands sliding up the outside of your thighs. 

“Oh no, not this again either! You're not hiding some special magic key or code or letter on me again. Last time it was a complete - Oh.” 

You rambled on until his mouth was between your legs. That soft “Oh” caused your whole body to tense up. He didn't need to look up at you to know that you were fighting a losing battle in your mind. Your body had gripped him tightly holding him where you needed him. 

He stopped fucking around and finally opened you up properly and dragged his tongue over your clit.

“Fuck” You ground down against him and he felt like a bit of a genius thinking this up. He picked up the pace eating you out. His fingers slowly pushed into you and for a moment he thought about making you cum like that. Make a right proper mess of his outfit, but he new there would be a heavy price for that brief moment no matter how explosive it would be. No, instead he kept a slow pace, easing your body into what it was desperate for. Not until your breath was ragged and your thighs were like a vice did he let you win.

“Please don’t - it - ah - won't be enough” Of course, it wouldn't be enough. Not for you anyway. He kept you there on the edge of bliss weighing his options. He decided and got up and undoing his trousers. 

“Be quiet” He commanded mostly just to watch your eyes get hazy. Slowly he pushed himself inside you, your body so eager it made a mess of pushing and pulling. Unsure of how to get what it needed. 

“Ive got you.” He whispered and felt the way your body clenched around him while also going limp. “That’s it baby.” He liked being soft with you. You’d say you were all about fast and hard, but when he’d take his time with you, this is when he really pushed your limits. Your breathing was ragged and tears were threatening to fall. 

What you needed in this particular moment was a complete loss of control. Something he was more than happy to give you. He pressed his thumb across her glossy bottom lip into the wetness of her mouth. 

He pulled out before pushing back in slowly forcing your walls to stretch open again. The papers on the edge of his desk were useless with the amount of wetness trapped between the two of you. 

He moved again and you whimpered softly. He knew he didn't have as much time as he wanted he brought his other thumb down to your clit. Your body seized and he started a slow deep pace. Bottoming out with every stroke. 

“You going to help me off? Make up for this awful party.” You were too far gone to answer, he chuckled. 

He picked up the pace knowing your body wouldn't handle much more after going without for so long. 

“You can finish when you're ready, love.” Your body jerked at the permission to go wild. Your whole body clamped tight, legs tense and your teeth dug into his thumb. The tightness of your heat gripping his cock was enough to spill inside you. 

“Good Girl.” He smirked amazed that his plan worked. He grabbed some tissues from his desk and cleaned you up before pulling your panties back into place. 

“Fuck” You swore softly. He assumed you’d be rushing him out the door and cursing but instead, your slender arms pulled him close. He cradled you tightly, hating the marks already appearing on your arm. He was going to have a long talk with you later. 

“I don’t think I can keep doing this.” you sounded so broken it made him wish he could put both your parents in the ground. 

“Then don’t.” He answered simply. “You’ve been very reasonable over the years, they are the ones deciding not to change.” 

“I love you.” She breathed.

“Love you too” He placed a kiss on the top of her head. 

“Let's go rescue the family before Polly shoots someone.” 

“Good plan.” Once straightened out they re-entered the party. He kep his arm around her tightly pulling her past where her mother was. For the rest of the night she kept her seat inbetween him and Polly. If people wanted to talk to her they would come and take a seat across the coffee table. A safe distance away and they said the types of things one would when being started down by Thomas Shelby. 

[zu-is-here]

Im gonna say this now that I am sleepy and brain is too tired to stop me from being cringe and corny

But omg the way you draw and write Cross and Dream is just nfjsi4bend - WOMAN I AM IN LOVE

You make their relationship so complex and organic and also so real to the point if I reach out to the screen I will actually touch grass---And the dynamic you gave them is pretty cute - the best interpretation of this ship I ever saw!

I had these boys in my life for 3 years by now and I would kill AND die for them

Also it should be illegal how well you draw them! I literally simp over them each drawing you post 😭

Awww my god— this warms my soul and make me so happy, thank you very much for your sweetest words, anon! (༶ૢ˃̵̑◡˂̵̑༶ૢ) I'm really flattered to hear it ♡

They are! ☆ I love these two—any version of them—with all my heart <3 It's still incredible to me how two different characters by different creators can match so well in many ways and create such a chemistry *^*

[misrepresentedmorallygrey]

PROPAGANDA

Allicent Hightower

She married the King, gave him a bunch of kids, and usurped the throne for her eldest son causing a massive conflict throughout the kingdom and leading to the death of the dragons and destruction of the royal family in the next 100 years. God forbid women do anything. Seriously though, her husband didn’t respect her and she had been given reason to believe that the original heir would murder her kids so she made the decisions she made out of love and fear after being forced into a shitty position by her father and her husband. She gets involved with some not great people and does some not great things in the name of securing allies and support for her faction but I adore her and I’m tired of seeing people treat her like scum of the earth and a devil. Her husband is right there and her murdered his first wife and then married his daughter’s best friend and his cowardly neglect of his family is the real start of the conflict over the throne. Literally nothing Alicent does can top that.

Second wife of the King of Westeros, who is old enough to be her father. She prioritizes the safety of her children over everything else and because of this she attacks and usurps the heir (2 separate events). She is scrambling for stability for her family in a succession crisis that began the second her dumbass husband decided to marry her. The amount of gross misogynistic comments people make about her simply because she is a woman in one of the more misogynistic societies in mainstream media doing her best to conform and survive is sickening. Not to mention the hate she gets for working against the fandoms favorite “feminist girlboss” character. Her actions are always getting misrepresented and exaggerated to make her seem worse. Anything good she does is ignored and anything bad she does is twisted and manipulated. Free my girl she didn’t do any of that. She did do other stuff though. And she looked good doing it.

Apple White

everyone shut up about her being evil and selfish she is a teenage girl who has been raised HER WHOLE LIFE with this ideology, she can’t unlearn her entire belief system overnight especially when it’s so deeply tied to her identity as a person. also she literally does let go of it eventually, because she’s not a static character, she has an arc. apple is my favorite because she’s complex, not in spite of it. on the flipside there’s the people who act like she didn’t do anything wrong. i’ve seen people call raven the selfish one? this show was made for 5 years olds. how do you have less media comprehension that a 5 year old. and also, you’re loving apple the wrong ways!! she makes mistakes. she fucks up so much, and it’s awesome. i get overcompensating because the haters are so loud or whatever, but saying she’s perfect is erasing what makes her interesting. this propaganda is not very good because I’m guessing a lot of propaganda looks identical (edelgard and vriska have similar issues in fandom spaces) so here is my final pitch. vote for apple because she’s a lesbian (her canon soulmate was a girl). vote for apple because she’s a protagonist in a kids cartoon who was a lesbian way back in jan 2016. vote for apple because mattel let the face of their new franchise be a girl who likes girls (still feels surreal)