#so thank you fan fiction

[sushistyless]

Kisses in kiwi flavour.

just some early morning love between Y/N and H.

1.2k (blurb). My masterlist!

——————

“Mhm,” Harry grumbles sleepily as he wraps his tatted arms around Y/N’s waist, encasing her with his strong chest. His arrival in their tiny kitchen (but cozy— they’d add) catches her by surprise, a breathy laugh leaving her lips. She melts into his touch, liking the pattern his fingers make as they skate on the bare skin that’s revealed from the way he rucks her (well, previously his) shirt.

“What’s m’precious doing up so early?” He bends down some, the raspy notes of his voice resonating against her neck, and the feel of his lips curving against the canvas of her skin as he speaks slowly.

Y/N breathes in deeply, a smile blooming on her face from his words alone. She flips a pancake, noticing how the golden brown colour on it has spread evenly, and plops it over onto the ceramic plate kept on the side. She nestles further into him as she does so, and Harry’s hold on her tightens, his face now buried in the crook of her neck as he inhales her scent— rosemary and… cinnamon? — revelling in the knowledge that he now has her full attention.

“She’s making pancakes for you. She’s amazing actually.”

Harry grins hazily at her response, kissing her neck and skating his palms gently along her soft waist before giving her love handles a little squeeze. “Don’t doubt that. My dodo is amazing.”

Y/N bites her lip in efforts to stifle her own fluttering laugh, cushioning her head back on his bicep, and leaning back into him. She twists her head to look up at him, fondly gazing over his features while he continues to talk in the drawly velvety voice of his, “But as wonderful as tha’ is, she left me without m’cuddles this morning.” He pouts, giving her puppy dog eyes that are way too easy to fall for, Y/N thinks. “And I need m’girl to give me my daily dose of cuddles t’function.”

He was such a dodo too.

“Oh no,” Y/N gasps dramatically, “How will you live now? I’m getting worked up just thinking about it—” She pretends to faint on his arm, animatedly throwing a hand over her heart and closing her eyes.

“Hey,” Harry warns, the muscles in his cheek resisting the usual urge to twitch into a grin, “She should know that I have her in my arms— in m’clutches— right this second.”

Y/N blows a raspberry, not giving much regard to the threat, instead fanning her hands in front of her face, “Yeah, yeah, right. Like tha—" Her sentence is cut short however, when Harry’s hands move to tickle her sides. A bubble of chirpy laughter immediately bubble out of her system, as she curls into herself as a built in mechanism.

“H-Harry!” She squirms in his embrace, laughs pouring out her lungs, grappling to hold onto his wrists which is almost impossible considering his tactful tickle skills. And even when she does manage to get a hold of him, he’s way too strong for her to move especially when she’s already in an annoyingly compromised situation. “

“Yeah?” He beams, deep dimples making little craters in his cheeks, “Don’t worry now. Her laughs have resurrected me.” His fingers continue to squiggle around her sides until his arms wrap around her form completely, fully holding her to him.

He decides to relieve her by planting a big smooch on her cheek, and there’s quiet in the room from her breathing finally slowing down, heavy pants and little laughs leaving her lips as she calms down. Her fingers move to thread around with Harry’s, a pulse in his grip as she does so.

“Boo you, H,” she beams, panting out, “Absolute meanie.” She shakes her head, eyes betraying her quest to stay unaffected as if they remain with a blushy, joyful little twinkle in her crinkled eyes.

Harry only stares back at her, the biggest smile pulling on his lips. He watches the sparkle in her eyes, happiness cradling his heart at the fact that he could be the cause of that.

“I wanna kiss you, now.” Harry whispers and flips her to face him completely, entranced by the sight of his idiot. His lover. His dodo.

His.

“Yeah?” she counters, slowly pushing herself up to sit on the now empty, slightly flour-y counter. Harry catches on and guides her by the hips, assisting her.

“Yeah.”

That’s when she pops a piece of kiwi from the bowl on the counter into her mouth.

A glint in her eyes is next slowly, and before he knows it, she’s chewing on it.

“Aish. Too bad. Toooo, too bad.” She lets out a soft giggle as she chews, hand covering her mouth, “Such deprivation this is for you. How can you kiss me, when I-I’m eating, Hm?”

“Oh, no.” He smirks at her, “S’bad manners to talk while eating.” He brushes a strand of hair out of his face, his teasing and banter with her mischievous, actions tender. He scrunches his nose some, “Guess it’s time for me to break a rule too, then.”

He moves forward and nudges his nose with hers, and Y/N helps, giggling softly as she pulls back, chewing with her mouth still covered by her hand, a bit of the kiwi juice trickling down her lips. “H! Oh my god, you are—"

“— much less clumsy than you? Yeah, you messy girl. I am.” He grins showing his usual dimples, eyes far too busy twinkling into taking her features as he brings up his thumb and carefully swipes away the little bit of kiwi juice trickling down her chin.

Y/N giggles softly, with a shy glow in her eyes as he does so, finishing her bite. Just as she’s done, in a moment of bold mischief she tries to reach for the bowl again.

“Ah, ah— ahh. Nope.” Harry’s hand immediately reaches for her, pulling it back, a lopsided smile tugging on his lips. “You menace.”

“Oh, I’m the menace?”

“‘Course you are. You’re dodging m’kisses.”

“I’m eating, H! I-" she bubbles out in a laugh, cut off by him.

“Is it ‘cause I ate that last donut you wanted yesterday?” He now pouts, his hold on her tightening as he bends a bit and nudges her nose with his. “Aw, and now you’re upset, Hm?”

She pouts a bit herself, laughing breathily, as she noses back at his nose, eyes closed. “See? You’re so mean. You’re not even sorry about it.”

“‘M such a meanie,” Harry says with a little smile, his eyes fluttering shut as he rests his forehead against hers.

Y/N finally leans in and kisses him, eyes closed too, as the soft touch of her hands behind his neck send tingles down his spine. Supple lips locked in a sweet dance with hers, harry deepens the kiss, tilting his jaw and pulling her flush against his chest, strong arms tightening against her soft frame.

He pulls away barely, eyes full of tender affection as he looks at her own irises, filled with a shy, excited tinge.

He whispers soft, eyelashes fluttering close to hers in a butterfly kiss, “Mmh. Y’taste like Kiwi.”

She kisses him back, barely able to contain her own shy little smile, “And you owe me a donut.”

———

ah, thank you so much for reading!! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging and liking! 🤍

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

WAKE UP!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[real-skel]

Hey, I love your art, you are so cool. What would you say is your favorite part about Charlie x Alan?

Hi!!!! Oh my gosh THANK YOUUUU!! I really appreciate it!!

I’m gonna be real honest with you right now, my favorite thing about Charlie x Allan is the fact that in my own personal headcanon I mentally write them as enemies to friends to lovers. Like yes they hate each other and oh my god it is beautiful. Let them beat each others ass, they have no idea what is to come.

[ekingston]

For the fic game: Kara and Lena meet in a book store as they're about to pick the same book. It's the last one so they kind of fight over it, each trying to prove why the book is important to them

(Also on ao3.)

Kara doesn’t recognize her at first. She’s wearing jeans, for one, and it’s not as if Kara is checking her out, per se, but she’d be a liar if she said she isn’t a tiny bit mortified when she realizes the backside she’s been admiring belongs to none other than Lena Luthor, the tech mogul, philanthropist and all around human marvel who Kara is no longer allowed to talk about to her sister, for some reason. She’s just. Here, in the bookstore around the corner from Kara’s office, browsing the stacks as if that’s a thing people still do even when they could probably afford to, like. Buy up Amazon, or something. 

Kara makes an honest effort to stop ogling Lena’s ass in favor of figuring out whether she should say something to her. She hangs back, reaching to adjust her glasses before becoming worried her nervous fingers may knock them down and accidentally reveal more than just the fact that Lena Luthor’s butt looks terrific in jeans. She changes her mind, hastily shoving her hand in her pocket instead, but not before she thwacks it into an inconveniently located display, sending a selection of Dummies guides flying in every direction. 

Kara is already scrambling to pick them up by the time the sound of it reaches Lena’s ears, already on her knees and flustered by the time Lena turns around. 

“Oh!” Lena says, her eyes wide and startled. She’s wearing a pair of glasses herself, huge and heavy-rimmed. “Oh!” she says again, eyelashes fluttering, and then, “I know you.” 

And she doesn’t, see, that’s the thing. Not really. Kara has only met Lena three times, and at least two of them were under less-than-ideal circumstances. Kara wouldn’t blame Lena if she didn’t remember her at all, especially when she technically wasn’t even Kara during the second one of those meetings, when she had plucked Lena’s wobbling chopper from a surprisingly unfriendly sky.

(Lena today looks lovelier even than she had looked during that hectic, disheveled encounter, which, in spite of the fact that Lena had been sort of busy surviving her own attempted murder, had been rather extraordinary, in Kara’s opinion. Alex was somewhat less impressed, even after the third time Kara patiently explained it to her.)

Kara tries to give Lena a smile that’s as intelligent and put-together as she can manage under the current circumstances. “Yeah, um.” She rises to her feet, keeping her fingers carefully folded around the books she’s retrieved from the floor. “It’s Kara—”

“Kara Danvers,” Lena finishes with a small, quizzical smile. “Of Catco magazine. Of course.”

And Kara can’t for the life of her figure out why it’s so ridiculously flattering to have this amazing woman place her immediately like this, or why her own name sounds so much prettier when it’s spoken with that peculiar, impeccable diction Lena Luthor has, rolling from lips that are free of the red tint Kara has become accustomed to seeing. This is out-of-office Lena Luthor, Kara realizes. A Saturday morning Lena Luthor, who loiters, perhaps even moseys, who lingers in bookstore aisles long enough to make even the densest version of Kara Zor-El realize (eventually) that she is, in fact, blocking her access to the very section Kara had come here for.

It’s also a Lena Luthor who smiles at her with genuine kindness. It crinkles the skin at the corners of Lena’s eyes just slightly, just an utterly captivating smidge. “That’s quite a selection,” she tells Kara, her voice warm with humor. 

Kara blinks at her a few times, and then asks, elegantly, “What?”

Lena gives the books in Kara’s strangling grip a sharply amused glance. Dad’s Guide to Pregnancy for Dummies, Kara discovers when she follows Lena’s gaze, and also Ukulele Exercises, Catholicism, and, perhaps most incriminatingly, Raising Goats. For Dummies, naturally.

“Well,” Kara says. “That certainly paints a picture.” 

Lena is grinning, now. “It looks like you have quite the weekend ahead of you.”

Kara rallies. “Don’t judge,” she chides with a cordial glare. “We all have our own ways to relax and unwind.”

“We do.” Lena’s laugh is melodious. “However I’d argue most of them don’t involve siring baby goats.”

“You would say that,” Kara improvises with a surreptitious look at Lena’s shopping basket, “But I bet your choices are actually more unconventional than mine.” 

When Lena’s cheeks promptly flush a dusky pink, Kara fights the urge to lower her glasses a little and get a closer look — because she’s almost sure that, tucked underneath To Paradise and The Song of Achilles, she just spotted a copy of the very book Kara herself came here to buy.

The very, very sexy, very queer book Kara came here to buy.

(It’s for research.)

(Kara is interviewing the author on Monday.)

(The fact that Kara is also a huge fan of her work is irrelevant.)

Lena deflects Kara’s remark after only a moment’s hesitation. “Kara Danvers,” she drawls, smoothly placing her body between Kara and her intended purchases, “reporter for Catco magazine.” Kara gulps when Lena aims a single severe eyebrow at her, because this woman’s casual nudge a month ago accounts for an easy ninety percent of the reason Kara now holds that position, and she hadn’t held it last time they spoke. Lena chides, sounding scandalized, “Are you asking me about my weekend plans?”

“No!” Kara shouts. “I would never be so forward, or cross that— I mean. Journalistic integrity is—” She flails, just a little, just for a minute or so, and then she blurts, “Is that a copy of T. Mercer’s Tickled Ink I saw in your basket?”

Lena goes very still, her former fluster hidden away behind a flawless mask of cool composure. A flutter of movement in the muscle at the hinge of her jaw is the only indication she hasn’t gone full Nora Fries. This is objectively terrible. Kara has terrified a perfectly adorable Saturday morning Lena Luthor, and now she has anxiety. 

“‘Cause I’m, um,” Kara attempts. She takes a breath. Anything to defrost Lena Luthor, maybe make her smile at her again. “I’m. Actually here for that one, myself.”

Lena’s eyes focus sharply, but her shoulders also ease, like, a millimeter, maybe even a millimeter and a half. “I’m sorry,” she says, and Kara’s already bursting forth to assure her she’s the one who should be apologizing when Lena finishes, flinching, “I think I got the last copy they had.”

Which is, hmm. Inconvenient, Kara wants to file it away as, but in truth it’s a little bit more than that. Because there’s the interview, on Monday. And this is the first in-person interview the author has ever agreed to, after countless emails and under strict order of secrecy regarding her real-life identity, and Kara already feels a kinship with her because of that. And Kara’s read her book, obviously, read all of them, the day they came out in fact, but she doesn’t have a physical copy of this latest one yet, and she’d really like to have the author sign it, maybe even add a little dedication saying Kara is her most persistent fan or something like that.

“Oh,” Kara says.

It gets Lena to soften her posture again, at least. “Are you—” Lena hesitates, seems to need a moment to muster her resolve. “Are you familiar with her work?”

Kara needs a moment too, mainly to stop being distracted by the observation that one of Lena’s eyes seems to be slightly less green than the other so she can choose her next move wisely. Kara can’t tell her the truth, she decides — if she gives away how much she loves the author, she ruins her chances of getting a physical copy before the interview. 

Also Lena may start doubting her journalistic integrity, which, gosh. Kara can’t even stand the thought.

“Yeah,” she says. Lena’s eyebrows rise in question. Not good enough. “I mean, a little?” Kara amends. She sends up a prayer for forgiveness and closes her eyes. “It’s pretty run-of-the-mill escapist fodder, I guess.” 

Lena’s eyes also shutter, behind long, thick lashes. “Oh,” she says. “Right.” They’re a deep inky black, even without her usual makeup. They form a pretty neat contrast with, you know, with the delicate pallor of her cheeks. She gives Kara a stiff little smile. “More of a guilty pleasure, then.” 

“Sure,” Kara says with a miserable sigh, “Her romance arcs are actually a little… trite, you know?” Kara presses her lips together in an effort to keep her bottom lip from wobbling. Okay, that actually hurt to say.

Lena’s hum is unexpectedly shrill. “Trite,” she echoes, the color returning to her cheeks, and good — Kara almost has her where she needs her. Bolstered by Lena’s obvious distaste, Kara breathes out a final volley. 

“Yeah,” she cries, “plus,” she lies, “the characters are—” just say it “one-dimensional, their motivations completely mystifying and ever-changing.” Lena is practically scowling now, fortifying Kara’s breaking heart with hope her betrayal will be worth it, in the end. “It’s also pretty obvious she has no idea how to write a proper ending,” Kara finishes with a whimper, convinced she’s stuck the landing.

Lena folds her arms in front of her body, the gesture only mildly impeded by the shopping basket looped around her wrist. “You sure seem familiar with her work,” she says. “For someone who claims to hate it so much.” 

Kara freezes. “Hmm?”

Lena narrows her eyes at her.

Kara blows out a slow breath through her mouth and sniffs, her eyes still dripping. “You don’t want that book,” she pouts in a childish last-ditch effort.

Lena’s voice is every bit the CEO Kara had first faced safely ensconced in her cousin’s shadow. “And why is that?”

“It’s, well—” Kara clears the remaining phlegm from her throat. “It’s not… for you. Trust me.”

Lena huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “You barely know me.”

��Well.” Kara takes a breath, searching the ceiling for her next clue. Gotcha! “I know you’re not gay.”

Lena’s mouth and eyebrows all curve in different directions, a face journey so fascinating Kara just stares at it for a couple of beats. Her features eventually settle in an expression that reads as— comical derision? Kara isn’t sure, it’s so complex. Lena Luthor is a very complex woman. “I mean.” Kara panics. “Are you?”

Lena opens her mouth and blinks a few times before actual words come out. “I suppose that depends,” she finally says. 

Kara’s terrified to ask, but also she absolutely has to know the answer. “On what?”

There’s that severe eyebrow again. “On whether we’re on the record yet,” Lena says simply.

Kara’s stomach lurches. “No,” she says. “Listen.” She tugs at her collar, suddenly uncomfortably aware of the supersuit beneath her button-down. “I’m here on my day off,” she assures her. “I’m not— and. ‘Yet?’ We don’t have, like, anything scheduled, or—”

“Don’t we?” Lena interrupts her tailspin. Kara watches her, uncomprehending, as Lena fishes the copy of Tickled Ink from her shopping basket before setting it gently down on the floor. “Can I borrow that pen?” She gestures elegant fingers at Kara’s breast pocket and the pen is in Lena’s hand before Kara remembers she’s not supposed to use superspeed when she’s in her civvies. 

Lena blinks between Kara’s position a respectful couple of feet away and the pen in her hand for a couple of seconds before she starts flicking graceful strokes of ink onto the title page. “Seems like we both have some introductions to make,” she muses, and then she angles the book so Kara can read what she’s written.

Kara stares at the inscription.

Tess Mercer, it says, in a pleasing, loopy script, echoing the name of the author printed just below it. And above, To my dear friend and most oblivious fan,

“Should I make it out to Kara Danvers?” Lena asks, eyeing the collar of Kara’s shirt where Kara has been tugging at it. “Or to Supergirl?”

-

“For me?” Kara asks, already blushing under Lena’s fixed attention and the color of her voice. 

When they eventually sit down for that interview two days later, opting for lunch at a cozy café, Lena’s fingers find Kara’s own when she discloses she’d been meaning to buy the book for Kara all along, reminding Kara one of her emails had mentioned she owned only a digital copy. 

“I’ve always preferred a good paperback, myself,” Lena tells Kara with a wolfish grin, sliding a wrapped gift across the table between them.

Flirting is the title. For Dummies.

“Oh yes,” Lena croons.

Kara swallows when she tears the paper to reveal a lurid yellow cover.

“Figured it might come in handy,” Lena says before taking a big, toothy bite. “You know." She winks. "For your big interview.”

[adhdprincess]

Remember that crazy AU where Tess died? Fuckin brutal. Glad that didn't really happen.

Here's a multi-chapter fic where Tess lives, written in Ellie's snarky POV.

Summary: Ellie, Joel, and Tess learn to live on the road together without wringing each other's necks in the process. Ellie is feral, Joel is savage, and Tess is trying to get everyone to Wyoming in one piece.

Set during the 3-month timeskip before winter. There are wonderful character arcs and nice campfire scenes, but it gets dramatic as hell—buckle up.

20k words, 3 chapters. I worked on this for 3 months.

[perfectthewayyouare]

supernatural fic rec

I know I'm about four years late to this, but after much grieving and healing* I fINALLY got around to reading the spn fic The Goldenrod Revisions by @remythologise (previously thylaa)

This rewrite fic is everything I could have wanted and more for these beloved characters final journey. This is the ending they deserved, it is the ending WE deserved!

*so turns out I wasn't healed... and this fic broke me again, but it healed me also

I cannot recommend it enough, especially for anyone who still feels betrayed by a show so close to their heart

@remythologise held the characters so dearly in this rewrite fic, I honestly could see any one of the chapters, if not all, being on our screens. Perhaps they did... somewhere... in an alternate universe... good for them <3

[daylesspax]

Attack on Prime Megaproject

Updated! It is no longer small!

Now! If you all have any ideas for little moments to include, list these in your asks!

The idea and what chapter(s) it’s from (for reference, I do not feel like hunting down each one myself, sorry…)

Which panel/placement you’d like it to be in (I will sometimes change this if I think it looks better somewhere else)

Ex:

“Optimus seeing a titan for the first time in Chapter 1, maybe in panel 3.”

The only rules are

Only use the MAIN FANFICTION, if I cannot find it in Attack on Prime on AO3, I will not take it

I will not be focusing on the very angst-y parts, however, I will accept maybe two ‘dark’ asks

I am doing the colors after all the panels are filled

I will make changes when needed

I’m not expecting many requests from anyone other than @melishade (nothing wrong with that, I love talking to you) but still, I welcome any enjoyers of AOP to contribute!

This is meant to be and ode to a truly amazing, unexpected crossover with so much passion, heart, blood, sweat, tears, and love!

[lunarthecorvus]

Me: *reads my 5th soulmate au of the day* *kicking my legs in the air, screaming when they finally meet and realise they're soulmates*

[retiredteabag]

HEAR ME OUT.....toji pulling up to dog sit one day but finds reader/you in fuzzy pajamas w the world's worst sleeping marks on your face bc you got the day off/took it off and forgot to message him before crashing into the bed. He probably thinks 'here it comes' whenever seeing you, this is the other show dropping, when you tell him to stay there while you go fetch the cash since he expected to work that day and is already there.

I will reveal NOTHING but NONNIE WHAT?? Your brain is so lovely, you and I are the same fr ☝️ angst/comfort is my fav tag <33333 This next part is for all my overworkers out there :/ I hope I can put out pt. 2 before Sunday :3

[avis-fictional-world]

@fractiflos

I really love your writing ☺️☺️ I hope you like this little comic stripe I made for ya!

Next

[awillowdryad]

"There is still time to surrender."

"Well feel free."

I adore Peter in the duel scene (well I adore him anyway) but he just oozes confidence and coolness. I'm still getting the hang of painting faces but I'm pretty proud of how this came out, especially the chain mail - sheesh.

[aussie-bookworm]

Chapter two of my SniperScout Time Loop AU is now up on AO3!

Summary

Working under RED can be repetitive at times - but nothing like this. After a curse is fired his way, Scout is forced to live through the same day over and over and over again. It should be easy for someone as perfect as Scout to break the curse, right? As long as he doesn't have to confront the things he's been feeling towards Sniper it should be a piece of cake!

Chapter summary:

Logically, the way to beat a bad day is to have a perfect day, right? This probably won't take long at all for someone as perfect as Scout!

[seaweedstarshine]

Hi! Long time no yap but I've been really bothered by this thing and I know you're just the person I can go to with this (even if we don't always end up agreeing at times).

I got into a tiff with someone in a comments section of a post that was about Amy (Which character do you think deserved to become a villain? or something similar). They brought up Amy's abuse of her boyfriend. I may have tried to defend Amy (key word is tried. I am officially rubbish at debating) but then I may have said something? Because they said that I (and apparently a lot of other fans) was excusing Amy's abuse because of her trauma. It got me stumped because isn't young Amy's treatment of Rory rooted in her trauma? Did I miss the memo where we separate trauma and abuse? Am I missing something?

That statement bothered me a lot because if there's one thing I never want to do it's defend an abuser. So here I am, humbly asking and hoping to clear the muddy waters.

Your really confused and disturbed moot, Tia 💌

TIA!!!!! Thanks for the ask 💌 , and I send you all the hugs.

Discussion of abuse, trauma, ableism, infidelity, and unhealthy relationship dynamics beneath the cut.

(First off… while I really appreciate your faith in my explaining skills <3 <3 <3 my passion for traumatized characters and mentally ill+neurodivergent rights doesn't make me especially qualified to fully clear muddy waters especially not knowing the full context, but I feel you, and what follows is my informed perspective!)

Speaking generally first, harm done in media is best examined by the impact on the audience, with a different lens than harm done to real people. While relatable experiences in media can be useful and validating and incredibly important, you can’t be “defending an abuser” when the abuse is fictional. It's actually normal for traumatized/ND/mentally ill people to project onto mentally ill villains, when villains are the only significant representation for those stigmatized symptoms in a media landscape that excludes and demonizes us simply for existing. RTD can't stop people who hallucinate from reclaiming the Master's Drums and projecting onto the Master, for example — 90% of the best Doctor Who psychosis fic by psychotic authors is about the Master, whether RTD likes it or not. It's not true crime.

(This is speaking generally. Amy Pond is very much not the Master.)

Abuse is a behavior, and there can be many reasons for it, but reasons based in trauma don’t make it not abuse (some forms of generational trauma can propagate abusive parenting styles, when the parent thinks abusive parenting is normal, or lives entirely vicariously through their child). This absolutely should not be taken to mean trauma correlates with abusive behavior; rather that abusive behaviors from traumatized people are more likely to present in specific ways.

Abuse is also a targeted behavior, based in control — not consistently displayed C-PTSD symptoms as seen in Season 5 Amy Pond through many aspects of her life. Mental health symptoms don't become abuse just because they hinder one partner from meeting the other partner's needs. Any life event can do that.

Without knowing the context of the arguments, this is the aspect of their relationship I've seen you talk about before (which I also feel strongly about), and what I assume is what you were debating? So, here I will talk specifically in regard to Season 5.

We all know Amy — she's never attached to Leadworth because she never wanted to leave Scotland, no steady therapist because none of them stick up for her, can't stick with one job yet her first choice is a job that simulates intimacy because her avoidant behavior (a known trauma response) isn't sustainable to her wellbeing. Rory knows her fears of commitment stem from her repeated abandonments, it’s why he’ll always wait for her, and it's why he blames the Doctor “You make it so they don't want to let you down.”, who apart from having caused a lot of her trauma, has actively taken advantage of her being the “Scottish girl in the English village” who's “still got that accent,” because he wants to feel important, so yeah, I think interpreting Amy's issues (and how Amy and Rory transverse them) as Amy abusing Rory indicates a fundamental misunderstanding of their relationship, as well as a misunderstanding of the (raggedy) Doctor’s role in Amy’s formative self-image (which of course she works through in Season 6, but I am sticking to Season 5).

Abuse is always based in control. That just doesn’t fit here. While Amy's detachment from her real life includes things like calling Rory her “kind of boyfriend” (which she is upfront about to his face; differing commitment levels isn't abuse, though it can be a relationship red flag for both parties IRL) — her Season 5 disregard of Rory’s feelings occurs only in response to the fairytale embodiment of her trauma. It's never a response to Rory; it's a response to the Doctor, who stole her childhood and led her by the hand to her death. She cheats on Rory with the Doctor in her bedroom full of Doctor toys, drawings, models, she made from childhood to early adulthood.

(And yes, like many repeatedly-traumatized people, Amy is prone to being sensitive and reactive. Take her “Well, shut up then!” line in The Big Bang; but given Rory responds to this by hugging her, clearly he doesn’t take it as her actually dismissing him. He knows her better than that.)

And by no means do I meant to imply this is fair to young Rory, poor Rory, who's left struggling with the feeling that his role in her life is in competition with the role of her trauma (aka the Doctor). But not every unhealthy relationship dynamic is unhealthy because of abuse. Labelling Amy's treatment of Rory in Season 5 more accurately isn't the same as excusing her harmful choices — but making mistakes is part of being human, Amy's mistakes are certainly understandable, and she works through them out of love for Rory.

If there's one thing to say about Moffat women, it's that Moffat allows his female characters the same grace that the male characters *coughTENcough* have always had, to hurt and struggle and make realistic mistakes and overcome those mistakes and to heal without being demonized.

Amy isn't perfect, but she is a fully realized character, and her story gives us a resonant depiction of childhood trauma.

[squorttle-pox]

I would just like to aggressively kindly remind fans that harassing other fans, cosplayers, or actors in ANY WAY is totally uncool.

[rodentblood]

bruhhh not the second top post in the king candy cybug tag being like 'umm dommy king candy is cringe don't draw that'

fuck off if people wanna give king candy/turbo abs and a chiseled jaw line and make him a dom fucking LET 'EM people online 'mischaracterizing' him isn't gonna hurt nobody and posts like that are just gonna turn people off from just having fun draw him dom, draw him bottom, draw him as an Egirl, draw him goth or pastel or as a fucked up evil bastard or uwu precious cinnamon roll who did nothing wrong, draw him being redeemable or irredeemable, draw him crusty and disgusting, draw him submissive and breedable

do whatever the hell you want

that's the fun shit about fanart and fandom as a whole you can do ANYTHING and don't let someone ruin your fun cause you're 'doing it wrong' cause there ain't no wrong or right way to have fun

and if you don't like someone's interpretation of a character? you feel like they're doing it wrong? first of all never tell them that, block them if you're that annoyed by it honestly then pick up your damn pencil/tablet pen/apple pencil/whatever and draw it your fucking self

[britneyshakespeare]

one thing that i think sounds petty, but isn’t, concerning the reputation of britney spears post-conservatorship, is reevaluating the art she has produced and the talents she has always had. i don’t think people who never really appreciated her work before understand that britney spears’ legacy does not deserve to be “a beautiful woman abused and tortured by the media and culture of her time” as this flat, tragipornographic figure. we do that to enough women in history. britney spears is still alive. britney spears is still not even old! listen to her music. talk about her as an artist. stop reducing her to only her personal sufferings, which she never asked to be known for.