#this fandom does not hate Ever After HARD ENOUGH

[thatrandomartistjavi]

I think a weak point of Ever After High as a show and the reason why I think the fandom sucks at handling the Royal-Rebel conflict is that

EAH put way too much emphasis on the Royals. ESPECIALLY in the specials.

Like yeah you had Raven, and sometimes you would get stuff focused on Cerise or Cedar but for the most part, most of the character stuff happens with Royals. We have Apple, Briar, Ashlynn, Blondie, the Charmings, Lizzie. So much of the focus is on the people who are at the top(aka rich). Even the only Rebel that gets significant attention is rich as well being the daughter of the Evil QUEEN and the Good KING

I see people in the fandom constantly not be sympathetic towards the Pied Piper and paint them as the only person in the wrong when I see no one talk about how the Mayor of Hamelin is the reason why the children were taken. The People of Hamelin have to be fearful of the day hundreds and hundreds of rats invade their village. They have to sit there and watch as the person who helped them with their infestation have to take their children because THEIR MAYOR is destined to not pay them the amount that they owed them.

And the Pipers seemingly don’t like their destinies. The original Piper probably only took the kids until the Mayor paid them as a lesson to not pay the amount that you promised. Oh but because the Pied Piper isn’t a Royal(rich) that means he was the only one in the wrong.

In universe, Sparrow gets put in General Villainy even tho the character of Robin Hood is famously known to aid the poor and in need. Oh no but because he robs from the rich then he HAS to be a villain!!! It’s not like Robin Hood is supposed to be a hero of the people and not the 1%!!!

The tyrannical Queen of Hearts and the abusive Duchess are allowed to stay tyrannical and abusive because not only is it their “destiny”, they have power and money. In the meta of the show, a harmless trickster is much more worthy of being treated as an awful villain more than a murder happy Queen.

The curriculum is mainly centered around Royalty and even classes that should be for everyone like Muse-ic class is implied to need pressure to even let Rebels take it even tho a Rebel is literally teaching it. Pied Piper wouldn’t be able to teach his OWN DAUGHTER Muse-ic all because they aren’t Royals

And this reflects in the fandom too. People only care about how sad the Royal’s destinies are and rarely ever concentrate on the Rebels that aren’t Raven Queen. On the rare occasion, you’ll get a little bit of Cerise. Anyone else? Absolutely irrelevant

And it sucks cause I generally think that exploring the feelings of the Rebels about the system that hurts them the most. But no. We just get the 100th episode about Apple and her possee

[orphiclovers]

Actually I'm not done talking about yoohankim's awful digital footprint pre-scenarios. Kim Dokja gets a lot of flack for being chronically online and cringe and that's fair enough but let's just acknowledge that neither Yoo Joonghyuk or Han Sooyoung are ANY better.

For Han Sooyoung it's obvious. Despite having her own sucessful webnovel, presumably with fans who support her, she gets obsessed with her one hater who thinks she is a plagiarist, finds the "original" novel where this guy was the only commenter on every chapter, and instead of reading her own comments she spends her time reading HIS and imagining he's saying that about her writing. She does this for years. DERANGED BEHAVIOUR. Pre-scenarios Han Sooyoung has no excuse to be acting this crazy. Sent to internet jail for being weird online.

1863rd Han Sooyoung. Automatically get a pass to act unhinged bc after going through the apocalypse that's just expected and also the only person she talks to for 13 years is Kim Dokja and a creepy old man who calls her god, BUT. That being said she's a perfectly average and healthy internet user! Spends literally every waking moment writing a shitty webnovel so hard pieces of her soul chip away and infuse in it, sure, but she doesn't bother anyone, just does her own thing, posts the chapters and occasionally chats with her one commenter. The most normal one here. Somehow.

Kim Dokja. Big fan of a webnovel and can get intense about it sometimes, starts fights online defending his fave character, recommends the same novel so much he gets banned from forums, whatever. WE'VE ALL BEEN THERE IS WHAT IM SAYING. This is nothing too crazy, only about the level of an average fandom superfan. Uses his real name online which is certainly a choice but some people do that in real life too. Giving him a pass, I was also a cringey emo teen on the internet once. (and im still cringe and emo)

Yoo Joonghyuk as seen in Yoo Mia side story. Absolutely glued to his phone. He checks it while eating breakfast, while in the car being driven to work, while literally walking down the street so that Yoo Mia has to tell him to put it away and hold her hand! He is basically addicted to reading hate comments about himself. In his narration he mentions that there are only a few regulars in the forums he lurks in and that he recognizes all their usernames, accidentally revealing that he's in too deep and officially lost in the sauce. Even his manager tells him he should stop reading the comments because they clearly upset him, but he justifies it to himself by thinking quote, "If someone has a grudge against him, he just needs to be prepared to face that hatred. Then everything is under his control."  That last line especially is such a cope, and reveals that this behavior is another one of his desperate attempts to feel in control of his life, and as pathetic as that is and as much as I feel sympathy this is being weird online and I'm sending him to Internet jail.

Bonus round: Secretive Plotter. Need I say anything. Absolutely glued to his phone AGAIN, no it doesn't make it better that sometimes it's his kkomas instead of him. Canonically has a bound book of every single comment Kim Dokja ever left on WOS, printed out, which is more freak mode than even Han Sooyoung went. Straight to jail.

[sanemisstalker]

N/SFW. Minors DNI

CW: GN reader / Men's Mental Health IG ???

KNY characters that I think are more prone to cumming in their pants / NSFW

Giyu

-He's inexperienced.

-I admire the almost fandom consensus of him being either resident, sexy, black haired, quiet anime boy, and/or 'nobody likes this friendless loser, he definitely has a tumblr'

-Any attention, platonic or not, from someone he's attracted to is enough to make Giyu get an apparent boner. He's prone to them when the people he admires say genuinely nice things to him.

-He doesn't get to hear nice things a lot, nor does he take compliments easily, so when he believes them, his body can't help but believe them too.

-He'd rather it not be that way, but due to his floundering mental health, and general isolation, Giyu isn't jerking off very often, nor is he able to get it up when he wants to, so he just goes... months without thinking about it sometimes.

-Could definitely cum from kissing too hard. Not just kissing, but particularly the rough treatment.

-Giyu must be incredibly touch starved, I imagine. I can't fiction the last time he's hugged someone. That scene where he's holding Shinobu, perhaps?

-So when he's getting so much attention, especially so much positive, romantic attention, even if it's a little rough, I'm sure his dick would be at full mast.

-he doesn't think he's predisposed to masochism or anything. He'd hope he wasn't, but it feels better when he's kissing, and maybe his hair is being pulled on, just a little.

-he'd be very embarassed. He wouldn't cry or anything, but I think he'd get up and leave the room. He knows you knew what happened, he didn't moan, but he flinched because the build up was so immediate, and he just couldn't stop.

-How pathetic. He can't show his face infront of you ever again. All he does is ruin good things. You're definitely disgusted by him.

-Even if he didn't realize how pretty his face looked during his orgasm.

Gyutaro

-Everyday I fight the gyutaro incel allegations, and everyday I fail.

-Gyutaro is socially inept, to put it blatantly. He spends an incredible amount of time locked away in his sister, and rarely chooses to come out unless eating for the two, or-

-if he needs to jerk off. A rarity, nowadays. Looking the way he looks can do a real number on one's ability to self-pleasure. He also isn't able to seek out assistance from any brothels- He still looks the way he looks. He's no Muzan- blessed with the ability to change his appearance at will.

-So when you're on top of Gyutaro, and he feels the curve of your ass in his palm, and your sex is positioned right on top of his, just barely grazing his clothed cock, as you try and teach him how to kiss (he's doing his best, but he knows he's not good-)

-He cums, and he cums hard. He grips down on your hips, and goes wide eyed, unable to stop the moan that rips its way from his throat... and then quickly moves you off of him.

-He isn't even finished when he moves you, he's shakey armed, and he nearly drops you.

-he's mortified. After all this time, he finally gets someone willing to touch him, and he blows it. He's borderline inconsolable- switching between begging you not to look at him and begging you not to hate him-

-but the noise he made was just so... pathetic.

Haganezuka

-Men dedicated to their craft don't have time to cum? Silly of you to assume he's ever even seen another person naked. That would imply he looked away from a sword for long enough to register it.

-On a completely serious note (as serious as I can be writing this), It'd be quite awkward interacting with Haganezuka sexually. His mind has been so consumed by perfection that, even if he wasn't dedicated to the blade, he's almost prevented himself from ever being able to cum in a social setting.

-He's developed a phobia of new situations he can't control. Especially sexual ones. Swords are easy and gratifying. Why would he ever need to cum when he can just make a sword and have it be respected and revered. Wouldn't that be nice-

-So when you started rubbing him over his pants, he was, admittedly, panicking. It's not like he went nearly 4 decades without using his dick... He'd just... gone 2 and a half decades without using his dick. Nowhere near the same.

-You'd barely even touched it, barely even pressed your lips to his neck, and Haganezuka was panting.

-The fear coursing through his veins, and the attention his forgotten cock was receiving- He grew more unsightly by the second...

-and then you pressed a particularly soft kiss to the corner of his lips and he was done for. That was his first kiss-

-Though shocked, you'd pump Haganezuka through his orgasm. It'd be enough to go through his pants, and spill over your hand.

-He'd grip your robes, and will you closer to him. His heels would slam into the floorboard, and he'd try to bury his face in your neck, attempting to muffle the groan he'd loose, only to fail tremendously.

-He'd be huffy after. Mad at himself and disguising it as being mad at you.

-'Well, maybe you shouldn't touch me anymore, if you found it so gross! Did you consider that? Just not touching me- ever?'

-but you saw how sad he looked when you said you'd do whatever he wanted. What a simple man.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader, Johnny "Soap" Mactavish x Fem!reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, John Mactavish, Reader

Summary: Friends and coworkers, Sgt. Mactavish and Lt. Riley have one thing in common: how much they want you, though one is less vocal about it. During a night out, you think you've secured one lover, but suddenly you are leaving out of the bar with both as all that intense attraction comes to a head.

Word Count: 8.8k

Warnings:

“Aye, would you look a’ that,” the Scottish sergeant nudges the silent and skull-masked lieutenant at his elbow, nodding towards the subject that has caused his sudden outburst. “She decided ta come after all.”

Two sets of eyes lock to the door as a familiar face steps foot inside that dingy little hole in the wall bar right outside the base, the one that the boys happen to frequent quite regularly whenever downtime is available. Tonight is one of those nights where most of the squad is here, ready to let loose for the first time in months and though you don’t always feel the need to imbibe with your teammates, tonight…tonight just feels different.

“Fuck, she does look a sweet thing tonight, doesn’t she, L.T.?” Sgt. Mactavish says with an unsubtle lick of his lip just before he takes another big swig of his lager, his eyesight lingering a bit too long on your legs, risking him getting caught. 

How is he supposed to look away when that dangerously short denim skirt and tight little top you’ve decided to wear leaves barely anything to the imagination, that gorgeous figure of yours on display for any hungry beast to devour with his gaze?  

“Settle the fuck down there sergeant,” Lt. Riley shoots back with a lilt of agitation, his sight narrowing with the furrowing of his brow under his black balaclava as he stares pointedly at the younger officer, “ya know the fuckin’ rules about fraternization. Ya really gonna risk it all on a recruit?”

A snort exits out of the scot’s nose as he sets his glass back on the tabletop with just the foam from his beer pooled at the bottom. “Ye sayin’ ye wouldn’t try an get a piece ‘a that if ye had tha chance?” he snickers out the question as the lieutenant raises the bottom of his mask before grabbing his own glass, ready to bring it to his lips. “Guess all the times I’ve caught ye lookin’ musta been my imagination then.”

Lt. Riley pauses with his cup half raised. “Drop it while you’re ahead, Johnny,” the command is firm and he continues on with his drink, hiding behind the disguise of his stoic demeanor to convince the sergeant that he isn’t gnawing at the bit to get another glimpse of your curves in that revealing little outfit as now you’ve given him so much silky flesh for his eyes to devour. He has to bite his tongue hard to keep himself from losing it. 

“Rules be damned, ye know you’d hit if ye had tha chance,” the sergeant whispers under his breath as he waves over the waitress to order another round for himself. “ ‘sides, they’re more guidelines anyways.”

The lieutenant is never going to admit it out loud to the cocky sergeant, but he hates how right he is with his statement. There is something about you he yearns for, that draws his eyes constantly, that keeps him filled with fantasies enough to fuel each one of his late night wank sessions for months and months now. He’s becoming insatiable even though he’s better at keeping a straight face, but inside he is burning just to get a piece of you. Too bad there is no way in hell he’d ever get the chance… right? 

You can feel eyes on you from the moment you enter the establishment, though at first you aren’t sure where they are coming from until you pass by the table where a couple of officers sit on your way to the bartender and you hear the distinct sound of choking. From the corner of your eye you can see Sgt. Mactavish sputtering into his glass, coughing up the beer that’s gone down the wrong way as the lieutenant next to him smacks his bicep and you have to speed up to hide the smile spreading across your mouth.

Drink secured and in hand you cross over to one of the tables sequestered by your company as a small group of privates wave you over and you take a seat, still keeping an eye on a couple of specific officers. This isn’t the first time you’ve noticed certain behaviors from them whenever you are around; at this point it’s almost obvious that they are taken with you, though they still pretend that they are hiding it well.

You like that attention, almost crave it. It’s a strange little game that you can’t help wanting to play with them, but more than that you want it to lead to something. Just a night, one night, to know at least one of them biblically; that’s all you want.  

Every once in a while as you sit there drinking and joining in bits of cheerful conversation, you’re sure you catch them stealing quick glances your way while the other is distracted. You start to wonder: what would it take for either of them to ever risk breaking the rules just to have a little something with you? 

You study them for a while and the two have really been putting them back. All that liquor has to be lessening their inhibitions, evident by the way they start getting sloppy with their glances. Now, instead of sneaking peeks in your direction, they are lingering a bit too long and if you time it right you just might catch them in the act.

The later it gets and the more liquor that snakes its way down your throat, the more bold it makes you and soon you’re thinking about ways you can put that question to the test. You’re not shy by any means, but you know when to play your cards and when to hold your hand and right now you think it’s the perfect time to go all in. If you can just get either one of them alone and make a move, maybe that would be enough to have them give you what you want: a night as their plaything.

Sure enough, not even a few minutes later you lock eyes with the sergeant. It’s only for a moment before he quickly diverts his gaze, but not before you pop off a sly little grin that you know he can see. There’s a reason behind your smile that you know he is able to read. In that split second that your eyes connected, even in the dimly lit bar, it felt like he was trying to undress you with his gaze and now he knows that he’s been caught red handed.

Oh yeah, this is your moment and you are going to take it...but how? 

How are you meant to make your move if neither has been on their own for long enough for you to get close? It’s like they are purposely making it more difficult for you than it has to be… at least that is until you watch Sgt Mactavish quickly stand to his feet, finish the last swig off his new glass, and take off in the direction of the restroom. No clearer sign could be given; this is the only chance you’re going to get and you know you have to take your shot.

It’s now or never. 

Abandoning your drink, you wait a couple minutes before slipping out of your seat and away from your table to make a beeline straight behind your target. The closer you get the harder your heart pounds in your chest. What is your plan once you corner him? There isn’t one, not now that you’re closing in on your goal. This could all blow up in your face, but at least you have to try; the punishment will be worth it.

Closer and closer the door gets until you are on it. Heartbeat in your ears you slowly and quietly open the door and peek your head inside. Your eyes clock only a singular pair of feet and with a quick glance behind you at the rest of the bar, you open it fully and step inside. With the handle still in your hand, you back yourself into the door to softly close it and engage the lock. 

The sound of flushing and the zipping of a fly makes you lose focus before you can finish making sure you won’t be disturbed as the sergeant comes out to see you standing there completely out of the blue.

“Did ye get lost lass?” the scottish sergeant questions playfully as he crosses the small room to the sink.

There’s only silence, his question is left unanswered as you decide that this is the time for action, not words. He isn’t aware that you’ve made your way over to him until it’s too late and you have your hand pressed firmly right to the middle of his taut chest, pushing him back into the wall right next to the sink as you move in close.

“What’s all this about, hmm?” he asks curiously, trying to keep calm under your touch.

You look up into his face, a gleam in your eye that he can’t ignore. “You know what this is sergeant,” you smirk, teeth looking more like fangs ready to sink into his skin, “or do you think I’m oblivious to how you’ve been looking at me?”

Subtle isn’t your strong suit when the liquor starts rushing through your system and right now you are using that to your benefit. Bright blue eyes stared back into your own, a spark as if from a match igniting within them that shimmer through the irises as he stares back at you. 

“Been wonderin’ if ye would pick up on that,” he says as he smirks right back at you, not trying to hide anything now that he has been read to filth. “It’s been gettin’ harder and harder to be coy when yer ‘round.” 

What is he supposed to say again? There is something he should be telling you right now, but he can’t remember as your body presses into his. No, that’s not entirely true. He knows what he needs to say he just desperately doesn’t want to say it, not now when his hands are getting their first real feel of all these curves he’s been dreaming of having under his touch for so long.

But he has to speak up, if only to cover his ass later.

“We shouldn’t, ye know the rules and…” he hesitates with a shuddered breath as his fingertips connect with a bit of skin along your hip and you promptly cut him off.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” you say.

The movement of his hands stops and he looks into your face. “Yer serious?” he questions with a lick of his lips, his jaw shifting as he impatiently waits for you to reply.

You can’t help but smirk. “As a fucking heart attack, sir,” you murmur as you lean yourself into his hands so that he has no choice but to keep them on you. “I know what the rules say, but I don’t care, not tonight. I want you, so what the hell are you gonna do about it, hmm?”

You take his hand in yours and bring it up to your breast, placing the palm directly over your shirt and closing his fingers around the tissue. Watching his hand closely you can see it twitch as if he is struggling with himself on whether he should remove it or keep it there and maybe do something more. 

You look back up into his eyes. “Gonna let this opportunity pass you by sergeant?” you ask, laying the seductive tone on thick for good measure. “I thought you were a man of opportunity.”

Well goddamn you don’t have to tell him twice. The blood racing violently through his veins makes his temperature spike as he grabs you by the waist to spin you round so that your backside rests against the edge of the small sink. He stares at you silently and you fear that you may have overstepped, but then his gaze shifts. 

“Ye best know what yer askin’ for,” he says.

“I do,” you respond. “So are you going to keep standing there, or…?”

Without another word he picks you up with little effort, his biceps straining against the sleeves of his t-shirt, and sets you on the countertop next to the sink. Your legs are already open, but he parts them further with his hip so that he can slip himself between them, hiking up your skirt so that it sits on your waist and leaves your panty-covered pussy exposed. Immediately his hand harshly catches you by the back of the head, making you gasp in response to his roughness.

My, he is an eager boy, all ready to play.

He stares at you, chest heaving pronouncedly up and down as he feels like he can’t take a full breath, the focus somewhere else in his body now. You are caught up in the moment of peering back into those baby blues as they gaze back at you with an intensity that makes your heart pound faster. 

Is it getting hotter in here or is it just you? You can’t tell. The haze overtakes you and the next thing you see is his face leaning in silently and suddenly your mouths are connected together, instantly breaking that tension in the best fucking way possible: with a moist, sticky embrace that has left little room for breathing.

His grip in your hair is strong, holding your head in place so there is nowhere for you to turn and you are forced to accept the brunt of his need on your lips until you can feel them burn the harder he presses. There is stubble along his jaw that pricks your cheeks and the skin around your mouth, adding another layer of sensations to the mix already working on your lips. The taste of the cheap beer that he had just chugged is still on his breath, crisp and hoppy and it hits your tongue with its sharp bite, but it does little to deter you from taking every ounce of his embrace.

Your own hands run up the back of his neck through the cropped bits of hair around his mohawk. The feeling of your fingers against the short hairs make that cocky bastard shiver before melting into you and you sigh into his mouth at the delicious reaction. Is it that easy to make him fold? Oh, you are going to use that against him in the future.  

Strong fingertips bore themselves into your hip, pulling your pelvis more flush against his and fuck if there isn’t something hard already pressing back against your sex; it does feel good to your inebriated brain to rub your barely clothed pussy against the bulge forming through his jeans.

“Shit, ye tryin’ to make me blow right here? Haven’t even gotten to the fun part yet,” he says playfully with a hiss against your parted lips.

Your hips roll into him again. “Guess you better get me the fuck outta here quick sergeant,” you shoot back, “cause I’m not stopping. Gotta itch that needs to be scratched something terrible.”

Catching your bottom lip, he pulls it out of that mischievous smile it is currently contorted into and sucks it between his teeth to give it a nip. “Ye are full of surprises, lass.”

“You have no fucking idea,” you whisper onto his mouth before you are back on him in another flurry of heated, frantic kisses that make you lose track of everything outside of his mouth.

“Ehem.”

At some point the bathroom door had opened and closed, though neither you nor the sergeant had taken notice of the prominent squeak of the hinges. Both of your heads unlock and turn towards the sound of the familiar voice where the imposing figure of the lieutenant takes up the entire frame, his arms crossed over his chest as he stares back at the mess you two have already become. 

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as anxiety sets, making you momentarily forget what you know and fear that this is going to ruin everything for you…until you see it. There is a sparkle you detect in those dark eyes, the same one you’ve seen before. Even with his stoic posture, you know that this isn’t a reprimand that’s coming and it makes you feel at ease.

“L.t.” the Scottish sergeant greets him. “I… I mean we…” 

Lt. Riley doesn’t say a word as the man still between your legs struggles to come up with some explanation for what the lieutenant has just walked in on and as he does you notice that the masked officer isn’t paying him any mind, instead he is staring straight at you. You are full of fire tonight now that you have a bit of liquid courage in you and that makes you prepared to do whatever you need to to get what you want. Instead of letting the sergeant flounder on, you interject.  

“See something you like, lieutenant?” you ask as you keep your eyes locked to him. 

Sgt. Mactavish turns his attention back to you, surprised by your attitude. “What?” you ask him with a chuckle. “Did you not know that the lieutenant here looks at me the same way you do? Or has he been able to fool you?”

Pushing back the sergeant so that you can get to your feet and straightening your skirt back down to at least cover your ass, you make your way over to the other officer currently present in the small space. Those striking amber eyes never leave yours as he looks down at you through the space in his balaclava; this is the closest you have ever been to this beast of a man, but instead of being intimidated at all by his impressive size, you are only thinking about climbing him like a tree.

What’s happening? 

Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out the thought that had just burrowed its way into the front of your brain without even thinking. “You know…there’s enough of me to go around if you want,” you say. 

That strong jaw shifts beneath his mask; is that a smirk you can nearly make out through the fabric? “Is that so?” he questions curiously, that low, gravely tone sending a shiver down your spine. “What makes ya think I want anythin’?”

You chuckle again. “Fine, then tell me I’m wrong, but I can’t help wondering why you would follow us in here,” you push back. “To piss? I doubt it; you haven’t even tried to move from this spot. To catch us?”

You pause, but he doesn’t interject. “I don’t think that’s it either,” you say with a smirk.

Lt. Riley knows you can be strong willed when you want to be, he’s seen it time and again during training and in the field, but now that it is directed at him it is something else… something that is making him weak the longer you talk. 

“Well?” you ask, not letting yourself back down. “Are you going to fess up?”

Several seconds of heavy silence permeate the space and yet the lieutenant still doesn’t speak, not even to confirm or deny your suspicions which already speaks enough as is.  

“That’s what I thought,” you answer yourself with a shake of your head.

Taking a step towards him and extending your pointer finger you poke the tip directly into his sternum as you look up at him through heavy-lidded eyelashes. Even from that one pressure point you can feel how fast his heart is pounding and fuck does that feel like some sort of accomplishment in itself.

“Don’t think you’re any slicker than Sgt. Mactavish over there,” you say under your breath. “I can feel your gaze lingering on me all the time, lieutenant, and I’m certain it’s not because I’ve done anything wrong. Are you going to try and deny that? Come on, sir, tell me I’m wrong.”

Standing back, Mactavish watches from the sidelines as you put that massive man into his place and fuck does that make his heart skip a beat. Strong-willed women are the Scots one weakness, someone to push back when he shoves and give him a run for his money. Just the way you were kissing him seconds ago he knows he would be absolutely knackered come the morning and he desperately wants to get out of here to get started on that as soon as possible. Goddamn, if he gets any harder he is gonna rip through the zipper of his jeans.

You push the lieutenant some more. “So, how about you stop undressing me with your eyes and just do it for real,” you challenge. “Or is your hand enough to keep you satisfied?”

“Watch your tongue, luv,” he says. 

The lieutenant is struggling to find the words to tell you off, but presented with something he desperately wants they simply won’t come to him. So there he stands, silently staring as he comes to terms with the fact that he is throwing caution to the wind and taking what he wants. The only thing that has him hesitant is the fact that you were just wrapped around Johnny.

Sensing that delay you turn your attention back to the only other person in the room with an idea even more insane than actually trying to approach one of them in the first place, but opportunity keeps knocking and you are going to keep answering. 

“What do you think, sergeant? Think we could have another join in with our fun?”  

If it will get him a chance to have you, Mactavish is willing to do anything, even if it means he has to share. It’s not like it’s with some stranger; LT is a friend, his colleague, a blood brother. Actually now that the idea is presented before him, he has to admit that it doesn’t sound half bad. He wants to fuck you, but maybe he wouldn’t mind watching you be fucked too.

“I can share,” the sergeant says with a smirk. “What ‘bout ye, LT?”

Turning your attention back to the lieutenant with a smug grin on your face, you wait for his answer. Lt. Riley shakes his head and follows it with a defeated sigh; this is a terrible fucking idea, but god damn is he in it now. That tension that has steadily been building since you got in close finally comes to a head and the need to take you is overwhelming. All that yearning he has done from afar makes his hands tingle at the thought that they can now be filled with you. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” he growls as he gives himself over to his desires and wrenches that god-forsaken mask above his lips urgently, an arm snaking its way quickly around your waist as he turns you both around and shoves you into the wall directly to his right. Instantly his firm, bulky body is pressed tightly into your curves as he lifts your head by the chin and meets your lips with a feverish intensity that sends your fucking head spiraling.

He is pressed in hard, his kiss even more greedy and desperate than the sergeants had been as he steals every bit of your mouth with his own over and over again, rough and desperate being the signature left on your lips until they are on fire from the friction and you can’t breathe.

“Do ya even know how much I’ve fuckin’ wanted to do this?” he groans into your mouth, the feral lust in his words palpable on your tongue. “Since the moment ya arrived I’ve been fuckin’ chompin’ at tha bit to get at ya. Now that I have ya, I’m gonna get my fuckin’ fill, pretty girl.”

One of his large hands slips down into the back of your skirt so he can fill his palm with as much of your ass as he can hold, pulling your hips forward so that he can grind himself against you. You can feel his cock growing hard the longer he is pressed to you; it’s throbbing on your bare thigh as his assault on your mouth makes it impossible to even think of pulling away.

If it had only been one or the other you would have gladly fucked them right here in this filthy bar bathroom, but there is no way to take full advantage of this opportunity presented to you in such a tight space; you all need to go somewhere that will allow everyone to easily get involved in the screw-fest that is about to happen.

“Who’s room’s closest?” you murmur through his kisses burning across your lips as a damp heat gathers between your thighs. “We need to go.”

There is another warm body at your elbow now, moving in against you as the sergeant nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his lips desperately trying to make purchase with your warm, silky skin; he was getting lonely waiting for Simon to finish getting that first bit of contact and he needs more. 

Fuck, is it good to be you right now stuck in the middle of this lust-filled sandwich.

“That’d be me, sweet,” the sergeant groans into your ear, finally answering the question that you had almost forgotten you’d asked.

You break away from the lieutenant long enough to give Mactavish a proper kiss for giving you what you wanted, a little treat for being good before you put the question to the lieutenant. “Are we going or not?” you ask him, hand reaching up to outline his strong jaw with your fingertips.

The touch from your fingertips makes his skin burn under the contact and he is ready to drag you out this instant. “Johnny, let’s go,” he agrees and you all quickly exit the bathroom as inconspicuous as possible, which with the way your cheeks are now flushed bright red and the two men stalking behind you tug at the crotches of their pants is a feat in itself, but somehow you manage… you think anyway.

The moment you are all outside the heat-packed bare and into the cooler night air, the change in temperature seems to fuel your giddiness. No matter where you turn there is a hand or an arm around you somewhere, pulses racing violently that can be felt through all the touches of skin to skin like a drumbeat to make you all walk faster until finally the base comes into view.

But amongst the flirty touches there is a bit of secrecy that the two men share between them, whispers that you can’t quite make out as they keep you preoccupied and you leave it be as you can’t be bothered to care what they keep murmuring about to each other.

You've barely clambered your way inside Mactavish’s room before the tension of the moment can no longer be kept restrained. The door is flung shut with a bang and your body is immediately pinned to it, each man claiming a side of you, desperately exploring every inch of your curves through your clothes as they move in closer. Your needy bodies grind against one another like animals in heat, rubbing and touching, greedy hands roaming until you three are nothing more than a tangled mess of hot, glistening skin covered by a thin layer of fabric.

Lt. Riley is the one to take the lead as his fingers dart to your skirt, lacing them into the waistband and ripping the small piece of jean fabric down off your hips until it crumples to the floor at your feet. You flash him a smile as you pull his mask up and off his head so that nothing restricts you from getting at his lips. You barely have time to register the coif of dark blonde hair and stark features that get revealed to you as you are immediately standing taller on the balls of your feet to bind your mouths together in a kiss that sets his soul on fire. 

A pair of rough, weathered hands glide across all this new skin available to their touch, capturing as much as they can hold, playfully flirting across your lower abdomen and the seams of your panties that still cling to your form for the moment before they too find their way onto the ground. 

Not one to miss out, the sergeant's hands splay up under the bottom of your shirt with fingers that have a need to feel even more skin. You release the brown-eyed lieutenant and lick your lips to get the last of his taste off with your tongue before turning to the other and that spunky scot darts in before you can take a full enough breath to fill your lungs. 

The back of your head bounces off the door as he aggressively takes your mouth as if it is his property, only pulling from your lips long enough to jerk your top and bra up and over your head in one smooth motion, throwing them both to the ground behind him before he dives back in. 

Your wrist is in the lieutenant's grasp now as he forcefully tugs at it, bringing it into place over the massive bulge tenting the crotch of his jeans. The stiff peak meets your touch and bobs in rhythm to match the pounding of his heartbeat and you rub the swell before cupping your palm up against it. His bassy groan fills your head as his lips descend onto your neck in feverish fashion and you undo the clasp on his pants, rip down the zipper, and shove your hand inside the recesses of his clothing to massage him through his underwear.

With your only free hand you loop your fingers around the clasp of Mactavish's own pair of denim and using feeling alone you tug and pry until you are able to unhook the button. He leans his hips into your hand to help and soon the pants are barely clinging around him so that the slightest movement will cause them to fall.

"Open your legs," you hear that heavy British accent as the lieutenant whispers the husky words into your ear from his place just under your jaw as your mouth still dances with the other officer.

There is pressure over your lower abdomen and you adjust your stance so that the gap in your legs is wider. That heavy mitt slides down past the hem of your panties and straight inside, descending right to your petals that he is pleased to find already a good bit damp.

His thick finger teases around your silken lips, tantalizing your body with anticipation before he finally parts through the barrier and drags that thick digit up the length, gathering as much of your wetness on it as he can before he goes in search of that bundle of nerves he knows is somewhere close. A smile forms on his mouth when you buck against his hand as he lands the pad of his middle finger right on it and presses down.

"There she is," he groans and begins to roll his finger around the organ with a soft and steady touch till he has it throbbing.

The need the action produces rushes through your limbs like liquid fire and immediately you pry down the sergeant's pants, a bit of a struggle with only one hand at your disposal, to expose his skin tight boxer briefs that leave nothing much to the imagination as the jeans fall to his ankles. A moan is hummed into your mouth as you find your way past the waistband and wrap those soft fingers around his throbbing shaft. 

Jesus, both of these boys are packing.

He has to release your lips so he can breathe as the intensity catches him by surprise and his body convulses slightly. "Christ, I've been fantasizin' 'bout that soft hand bein’ wrapped 'round my cock," Mactavish moans, his mouth ghosting around your face as your head is dragged back to the other side to reconnect mouths with the lieutenant. The poor sergeant is too absorbed in the ecstasy of your strokes to bridge the gap between his lips and your flesh just yet. 

He is struggling to speak as the pressure from your hand compressing as your stroke makes him lose even more of the little bit of sanity he has left. "Better than I coulda imagined. Yer a natural, lass." 

The scot’s hands know exactly what to do even though his mind is still reeling from that initial contact and when he looks down, he catches himself pawing desperately at your breasts, cupping them in his hands to massage the mounds, enjoying the weight in his palms as he teases the nipples until they are hard. 

The men unintentionally work in tandem as you do the same to them and with your body being stimulated so thoroughly you are quickly becoming putty in their hands with a mess gathering between your thighs that the lieutenant can feel slowly dripping down his fingers. Good, you are going to need everything to be nice and primed for what they have secretly planned. All that whispering they had shared on the walk back had been for a reason, a plot that they came up with on the spot on how to share their treat for the night. 

Why should you have to choose who to start with and who to leave out? No, there's no need; brothers in arms share everything after all - everything- and you don’t have to be no exception. You wanted to go home with them both and that is how they’d like you to take them. The lieutenant taps the sergeant’s arm so that he is forced to break away and a knowing glance is shared between them. 

"I think our sweet thing needs a bit more, yeah?" Lt. Riley asks his partner in mischief as he pulls away from your lips and Sgt. Mactavish nods. 

The sergeant turns his sight back to you and you meet his gaze with an intoxicated, doe-eyed look that makes his heart skip a beat. God, you look stunning as a mess like this and he wants to make it worse. 

"We're just gettin' started," he breathes into your face.

"Come 'ere, pretty girl," the lieutenant beckons as he again seizes your wrist in his grasp and draws you over to the bed, his pants slipping off his hips as he moves and he steps out of them so that when he reaches the mattress he only has his shirt and boxers to remove. 

As a mass of naked, bulked-out muscle now, he sits down and situates himself before spinning you around by your hips, ripping off your soaked panties, and pulling you down so that you are forced to be seated in his lap. His cock prods its way through your thighs so you have to open them, veins throbbing from being so engorged. 

Your eyes lock to it through your lap. "I need you inside me," you moan, positioning your hips so you can try and grind against it. "Please, I’ve waited so long for this."

"Mmm, I like tha way ya beg, sweetheart," the lieutenant praises as his fingertips drift across your throat to feel how quick your pulse races under his touch. "I can't fuckin' say no ta that. Let's fix that ache."

Reaching between your thighs, he grabs a hold of his cock and grips it firmly at the base. His other arm secures you around the waist to his taut chest so that he can lean you both back and align the head with your entrance. You can feel the delicious way it prods right at the hole and your body trembles as you wait impatiently for him to thrust it in, your heart beating out of your ribcage. 

That first bit of penetration as the head of his cock slides in stretches you out so fast that you cry out with a jolt, but that arm around you keeps you from slipping. You continue to whine as he thrusts the rest in until he has you sitting on his thighs completely inside your tight cunt, pulsating. His lips gingerly pepper the side of your head with kisses until your muscles relax and your body finally accepts his girth.

“How’s tha’ princess?” he growls low in your ear with his warm breath trickling down your neck to make goosebumps raise along your skin. 

You nod your head up and down in short bursts as you fight with your tongue to recall how speech works. Fuck, you can feel his pulse as his cock throbs as if it has its own heartbeat.

“Ya feel so fuckin’ good,” Lt. Riley grunts as he grabs onto your waist to guide your body so you slowly start to bob up and down on him.   

It’s a good thing he sets the rhythm for you as you can barely focus on anything as the feeling of your superior stretching you out mixes with the adrenaline rush making you lightheaded, but through that haze you glimpse Sgt. Mactavish and beckon him forward so you can tug down his boxers and release his cock while he flings his shirt up and off his head.

Lt. Riley grabs onto your thighs and holds both of them gripped tight in his large hands, spreading them wide so that Mactavish can easily make his way in between them. The hair-speckled muscles of his abdomen shift along your bare spine as he leans you both back again so that the man before you has better access, both of you needing to be at the right angle to accomplish what is about to come.

"Think ye can take more, angel?" the Scot says with a mischievous grin plastered to his lips as his fist strokes along his cock to coat the shaft in the bit of precum that has dribbled out of the tip. 

There is warmth at the side of your head right at the edge of your ear, a shuddered breath that makes your pupils dilate and your own breathing gets caught in your throat. "Ya wanna have us both in ya, dontcha sweetheart?" the lieutenant growls, the heat from his breath brushing over your cheek as his fingers squeeze around the meat of your legs. "Fillin' ya full, givin' ya everythin' ya could ever want: both 'a us at the same time in this sweet, little pussy."

You pause as you try to think, but all you come up with is that you have never needed anything more than to have both of these men at once. Lt. Riley, however, takes your silence the only way he can, that you are having second thoughts.

“If ya don’t want it luv, jus’ say tha word,” he says. “It ain’t gonna hurt our feelin’s ta take turns. Do ya wanna stop?”

You can sense how close his lips are to your ear and it makes it hard to get the words out so you shake your head instead.

“Ya want us both?” he asks for clarification and you nod. 

He has to be absolutely sure. "Need ya ta say it, luv," he groans as he tenses his glutes, causing his cock to pulse inside you till it pushes you to moan out loud. "Look at your sergeant an say it."

You refocus your sight on the buff, naked man before you who is hungrily stroking himself to the sight gifted to him. The blue of his eyes shift in the dim light, a sparkle that you can't help but smile at as you swallow to find your voice. "I can take more," you say without breaking eye contact with the short-haired sergeant. "I want you inside me too, sir."

"Good girl, good fuckin' girl," the lieutenant praises in that gruff voice before placing another kiss to the side of your head. 

"Such a good little lass for us," Mactavish adds as he steps himself into the gap that’s been so generously created for him. His hands glide over your inner thighs, up and down the tender flesh a few times as if he's adoring it with his fingertips before he grabs back onto himself to align the tip of his cock at your opening just above the lieutenant's that is already stuffing you. 

Leaning his head forward, Lt. Riley's lips gently connect with your feverish shoulder at the nape of your neck and delicate bites are soon ascending up your throat. "Gonna need ya ta breathe, alright?" he says softly with his mouth still lingering just below your jaw. "Jus' breathe, sweetheart. We’ll make it fit."

Your eyes flutter closed as you succumb to the overwhelming ecstasy coursing through you at everything that is happening, but a firm hand under your chin brings you back into the room and your eyes back onto your second lover. 

"Eh, eyes on me, doll," the sergeant says as he holds your face up to gaze into his. "Wanna look inta those pretty things when I enter ye."

The lieutenant's lips rest against your throat as you feel that firm second tip begin to press harder at the top of your entrance, making you wrap your thighs around the sergeant’s hips. You breathe in through your nose deeply as he slowly sinks it in to rest just the head inside the threshold. The glazed over look in your eyes as you take him in is enough to almost send him reeling over the edge. His chest heaves with each breath as his head falls limp, muscles contracting as he pauses to give you all a moment to adjust.

Your whimpers mix with Mactavish's deep grunt and Lt. Riley's satisfied hum to fill the small room with the most unique music these four walls have ever heard. The pain of the intense stretch gradually eases after a moment and now that pleasure has taken its place you beg for the scot to keep going.

He smiles hungrily."Almost there, lass. Jus’ a bit more.”.

"Fuckin’ look at ya. You're doin' so well, sweetheart," Lt. Riley moans more of his praises as the sharp edge of his teeth drag across your neck, doing everything he can with what he has available to him to make sure your body stays in a state of pure bliss. 

Mactavish's fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts again, this time all the way till he reaches the base of his member and you buck backwards, but the lieutenant has you secure in his arms so that you don’t go anywhere. 

"Tha's it, pretty girl, tha’s it," he mutters sweetly as he lifts his head to find your cheek, nuzzling against it while placing sweet kisses along the surface. Your face is burning and he can feel it against his mouth.

"God, ye are a marvel," Mactavish adds with a hiss trailing the end of his sentence. "A fuckin' dream."

All the undivided attention, all the stimulation and heightened sensations of pain and pleasure has you in a daze of ecstasy so powerful that your head is spinning, drunk off all that intensity and they have to take control as you can only manage to take what they give. 

Rotating your shoulders and turning your head with a bit of effort you find the lieutenant's face and before he can even think you immediately move in for the kill, connecting your lips with force. His hands compress around your thighs the harder you go in so that he can meet you with the same intensity. Your mouths dance together for a few more minutes before you wrench your face away only to have your hands reach out to find their place at the back of the sergeant's neck to pull him into a kiss just as heated. 

No one gets left behind tonight. 

Lt. Riley takes the opportunity of your distraction and rolls his hips to start thrusting, wanting to take you by surprise and it does. The whine you release into Mactavish's mouth is his evidence that he's done just that.

"Fuck," the sergeant exclaims in a burst as he too feels the effects of the lieutenant's movements and instinctually bucks his hips into you, causing you to whine louder. 

Your head falls back against your superior's firm shoulder, your arms raising up to wrap around his neck to help you hold on as the two men begin to drive themselves deeper and deeper into your sopping wet pussy, stretching your tight hole to capacity. Your breasts bounce in rhythm, your body forced to move with the strength of their combined thrusts as eyes are locked onto the delicious sight of your body taking them. 

Lt. Riley’s hands are still preoccupied with your thighs, but one of Mactavish’s is free and he uses it to cup around the plump bit of tissue to massage the nipple between his thumb and forefinger for the second time; the man just can’t keep off them. “Ye don’t know how much I’ve wanted te get at these juicy things,” he groans at the feeling of your soft skin filling his palm. “That’s why I was always makin’ ye run laps just te see ‘em bounce.”

You knew that’s what it was, why he always seemed to single you out in training when you swore up and down that you didn’t do anything wrong. So this had been a long time coming, a desire that had been long held.

“Knew the moment ya stepped on base, ya were gonna be trouble for me,” the man behind you pants, wanting to add his own two cents. “Told myself not ta look, rules and all, but fuckin’ hell sweetheart, how could I not? Ya got in my head fuckin’ quick. An’ with that strong, bull-headed attitude to match; christ, you are a deadly thing, luv.”  

They find their rhythm in tandem, keeping pace with one another to get every benefit of slipping through all that slick, all parties working to that one collective end of everyone cumming like a three-headed monster of ecstasy. Thrust after thrust, bodies stimulated from adrenaline, you all are drawn even closer to that most satisfying end.

“You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good, sweet girl,” your lieutenant praises and the sound of his voice is almost enough to make you break. “You gonna cum for us, yeah? Need ya ta cum.”

You swallow, your mouth dry from hanging open as it’s too much to hold in all those delicious moans. “Close,” you mumble into the small space created by your bodies, but all this friction is working a little too well for your lovers.  

The sergeant is the first to break. “Shit, gonna fuckin’ come,” he groans as his abs strain, the pressure in the base of his stomach almost at its peak. Fuck, it’s just too satisfying to last any longer. 

The other isn’t too far off either. “Ya ready for it?” Lt. Riley says, his breathing shaky and uneven. 

You nod your head, a little disappointed that you aren’t fully there yet, but you know it can’t be helped. “Good girl,” he moans. 

The sergeant pulls out first and you take his cock into your hand, tightly holding onto the shaft to stroke it towards your breasts as the lieutenant stays in to keep going. Lt. Riley is so close he can feel that tightening in the pit of his stomach about to snap and with a few more ragged thrusts he too pulls out to be met immediately with your hand that keeps up the stimulation. Having both of their cocks in each one of your hands, you stroke them furiously.

Finally the moment of no return is reached and the Scottish sergeant is the first to go, the stringy spurts of milky white cum hitting your chest to gather between your breasts as he shudders in your hand. Through his grunts and moans of pleasure as you stroke his cock of everything, your lieutenant blows too and the warm fluid shoots up between your thighs to cover your lower abdomen. You don’t stop your work until your hands are forcibly removed and only then do you finally let them go.

But even though they are finished, they aren’t done with you yet- oh no, you are going to cum if it’s the last thing Lt. Riley does.

You are taken by surprise as there is suddenly a finger circling your clit and you moan into your throat. “Did ya think it was over? Can’t let ya not get yours, luv,” your superior whispers into your ear. “Want ya ta come for me, sweet. Come on my fingers.”

The two middle fingers on his hand are immediately shoved into your dripping hole and he curls them again and again over your G spot with a steady touch until he has your thighs quivering. Not one to be outdone by his superior, Sgt. Mactavish falls to his knees and leans in, his heated, panting mouth advancing to just above the lieutenant’s fingers so that his tongue can lap at your clit.

Lt. Riley can feel your swollen walls as they start to flutter around his digits, your hips bucking wildly over Mactavish’s face as you stroke your fingers through the hair of his mohawk. The lieutenant needs you to come, he needs to feel that you’ve gotten yours; you’re not leaving here unsatisfied as long as he’s around. A few more curls of his fingers and strokes of your clit and you go silent as that tightening in your belly is pulled completely taunt and all at once snaps. 

“Tha’s it,” your superior says amusedly as you let out a cry and your walls clamp down around his fingers, “good girl. Ride it all tha way out for me, luv. All tha way. Fuck…there ya go.”

You grind your hips into his hand and against the sergeant’s features until you can’t go anymore and settle back against Lt. Riley’s hot chest in contented exhaustion. The lieutenant’s fingers lay resting inside you as Sgt. Mactavish pulls back from your pussy, face dripping and accentuated with a smile before he wipes the contents away onto the back of his hand.

The sergeant looks so pleased with himself. “Been a while since a pretty thing’s ridden my face,” he says. “God, I missed tha’.” 

The lieutenant lets you ride each balmy wave of ecstasy that washes over you to its end before the fingers inside you are pulled out and he brings them to his mouth to lick them clean as Sgt. Mactavish tilts your chin up and leans in to leave you with a breathless kiss on your raw lips for a job well done. He is more gentle this time, more sweet, and you swear you can feel his mouth turn up into a smile against your own that you can’t help matching. 

The break in the kiss is slow and as he pulls away he strokes your cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Ye were brilliant lass,” he says, punctuating it with one last peck on your lips as he moves back. 

The lieutenant helps you off of his lap and sets you carefully down onto the bed beside him, making sure you’re steady before letting you go as the sergeant steps off somewhere into his room. You don’t pay much attention as your sight is focused on your superior, taking him in without the hindrance of his mask as he stares back at you.

“Ya really did so fuckin’ good, pretty girl,” he praises, admiring all that visible heat in your cheeks that he is partly responsible for. “But I knew ya would.”

He leans in to place a grateful kiss to your parched lips and you graciously accept it, letting your lips linger for as long as possible. Just as the kiss is broken, though, the squeak of metal is heard followed by the sound of rushing water and you both turn to the source to find Mactavish standing naked against the doorframe of his bathroom.

“Comin’?” the sergeant calls out.

Lt. Riley immediately goes to stand and offers you his hand. “C’mon, we need ta get ya cleaned up, sweetheart. We made a bit of a mess,” he says as he helps you onto your feet and guides you by a hand placed to the small of your back over to the shower and the warm water waiting to coat all of you. You stare up questioningly into his face as you go, but he just smirks as if he’s guessed what you are thinking. 

“Don’t ya worry, night’s still young and we ain’t gonna be done for a long while yet.”

[cheezewhis]

I'm going to regret this.

Sometimes the iwtv fandom makes me worry about the future of diversity in media. I mean I expect the racist assholes to pop up and bother everyone. That happens all the time and while it sucks, there are ways to filter those people out.

My big worry is honestly on the other end, where people are so desperate for harmony they end up treating minorities like monoliths of purity. Seriously, we have a show with morally grey characters of a variety of colors, a color conscious writing team, actors who constantly discuss the nuances of their characters, and people still find a reason to fight about this. Wasn't this the ideal we were asking for???

How are we supposed to evolve the representation in media if we can't go 2 seconds without fighting about which characters you're "allowed" to like?

You can't like Lestat because then you're condoning his behavior, but you can't condem anything Louis does cause then you're racist, but also you can't like Louis more than Armand because Louis was a pimp, but also you can't like Armand because he killed Claudia, but also that was all Lestat's fault and Armand did nothing wrong and if you don't ship Loumand it's because you're racist and if you do ship Loumand it's because you just hate Lestat and Anne Rice and puppies??? or something, and Clauida is the only character you're actually allowed to like except you are not allowed to like her unless you hate Lestat or Louis because as we've established it's really Lestat's fault she died and also Louis was a bad father and is responsible for Clauida's death so you cant like him either but also you are racist for thinking Louis did something wrong because black characters are not allowed to make mistakes or be nuanced or be human but also you don't get nuance if you like 1x05, you have to hate 1x05 because that episode of the toxic abusive vampire show dared to show toxic abusive vampires and ruined your precious precious perception of Lestat but also if you still like Lestat after that then you must hate Louis because Louis is 5 fucking years old and needs to be coddled but also he's a piece of shit and you cant like him and idk i don't really hear people argue about Daniel but maybe I'm just not looking hard enough and who ever cares cause I lost the plot about 100 fucking words ago.

Like jesus fuck we'll never weed out the racist people in the fandom cause we're too fucking busy fighting each other about, like, if we should let black characters be nuanced and interact with white characters who are mean??? Istg half this fandom thinks Louis (and Jacob Anderson for that matter) is like a battered helpless child who has never been able to stand up for himself. Louis is a character built from very real pain, he's always going to be kind of sad by virtue of that, but he's not 5, he can make decisions for himself.

How the fuck are we supposed to normalize diversity in media if we can't be fucking normal about diversity in media.

Fuck. Everything. And. Everyone.

[dippedinmelancholy]

I have such weird, complex feelings about Elain. I feel like they might get me some hate but, I need to spit them out, the brain worms are trying to devour me. My thoughts on her are sort of two fold. What I get from canon!elain and what you get from the fandom. Canon Elain is soft and feminine, but so deeply selfish it actually drives me insane. ACOSF makes it clear she's always seen Nesta. Always perceptive enough to pick up on what is happening around her. She buys Feyre paint, she sees Nesta being abused by her mother, and she sees the hatred the IC holds for Nesta. Yet for all her perception, she never bothers to help even in the smallest manner. She is deeply catered to by her sisters. She even points this out when Feyre and the IC shows up to use their house when she's still human. She says she didn't do anything, she takes part of the blame for the first time in her life. Yet, nothing more comes of it. When she is suddenly fae, and could possibly help or have expectations placed on her, she turns catatonic. This only serves to infantilize Elain as little more than a child all over again. In ACOSF, she pushes and pushes Nesta until Nesta snaps. After what, a week? A couple weeks? Of being trapped in the HoW, after Elain didn't even have the spine to face her sister, only pack up her things and agree to imprisoning the one person who had ALWAYS had her side, who fought so violently for her, Elain runs crying that Nesta isn't any different. This doesn't make me hate Elain. It makes her complex. But it does make it hard for me to connect with her, as she seems to hide behind her softness, and it makes her seem so much more manipulative than Nesta ever was. But fandom Elain . . . ugh. I think in general, a lot of women reading ACOTAR are traditionally feminine. We're soft, we see ourselves as sweet, ect. And for some, it seems they SUPER project onto Elain and see her as an angel who deserves the "Shadow Daddy" who has never done any wrong, and see she finally sees how perfect Feyre is and has turned away from cruel Nesta. A huge argument I've seen is that Elain's the most powerful, her story is all about choice, and that's why she deserves Azriel. That she's never ever had a choice, and choosing Azriel will finally give that to her. I think there's so much potential in Elain, but are you fucking kidding me? Elain has had the MOST softness and choice out of all of the sisters. She was pampered even when they were at their poorest. Even their mother afforded Elain the chance to marry for happiness, where she abused both Feyre and Nesta. Nesta was groomed and physically abused, Feyre was neglected and forced to take on too much. After Feyre is taken by Tamlin, Elain INSTANTLY finds a love match that Nesta supports, Nesta fights only so Elain can be safe and happy. The Cauldren was GENTLE with her, it turned on the King because of how it felt about Elain. The Cauldron BRUTALIZED Nesta. It's just so exhausting to see this complex sister, who's just as bad as both Feyre and Nesta, rewritten into this self insert, flawless and soft creature who has nothing to answer for, only awaiting her Shadow Daddy smut. Especially since SJM does not know how to write traditionally soft women in a leading role. She has no idea how to portray strength without violence.

[eliotquillon]

NO YOU’RE RIGHT. YOU’RE SO RIGHT. i love hilson as much as the next guy but the fandom tendency to completely devalue the lives of female characters is unbearable. killing amber off in the first place was a pretty egregious example of fridging but the fandom almost celebrating it for the hilson potential is just like. come on guys.

on another note, i would’ve loved to see an AU where amber lived and we got to see more of her and house’s dynamic when they were social equals (eg. when she was dating wilson and not employed at PPTH). do you think they ever could’ve been friends?

yeah this is the thing. on the one hand, it’s hard to give the fandom too much shit for this when so much of amber’s writing in canon is just straight up misogynistic anyway—the fridging, everyone calling her ‘cutthroat bitch’ (which, come on, is not being used in the funny ‘lol slay queen’ reclaimed sense that it might be today and that i think a lot of the 2025 fandom interprets it as; it’s a derogatory nickname coined by a man that is clearly meant to put her down), being punished by the narrative for pulling the exact same shit as house and other male characters, etc. on the other hand…try harder, lol.

and like: we find out a lot of fascinating things about amber. i think there's probably a kernel of truth in her frustrated 'mommy didn't love me enough, daddy expected too much from me' explanation as to why she loves to win so much in games, given her later claim that before wilson she thought she had to choose between love and respect. if there is, that's a massive parallel to chase--who explicitly tells house to hire her and who she openly schemes with in 97 seconds, why does nobody talk about that--but even if there isn't, it's still fascinating that THAT'S where her mind goes to for an explanation that'll get house off her back, right? she goes through this whole off-screen character arc--she leaves games 'trying not to care', and returns relatively well-adjusted as wilson's new girlfriend a few episode later--and nobody seems interested in what happened there, what drew her to wilson specifically. part of the whole perversion of her hallucination form in s5 is that even at her worst, amber was never that cruel. there is so much to go off of here. i guarantee if she were a man she'd be a top 5 fandom character. can anyone fucking hear me. hello....

anyway: could amber and house ever have been friends? i'm gonna say something controversial: i think by the time amber died, they already sort of were. something nobody talks about AGAIN is that house's head specifically really...toys with this idea that house was attracted to amber. the woman who takes her place in his hallucinations is objectively very attractive. there's that whole eroticised tying-the-scarf-around-the-leg lap sequence. house fumbles and gets flustered when she pops up during the hypnosis session, and doesn't refute wilson when he points out that this is because house genuinely respects her. even that night at the bar: he doesn't shove her away. he goads her to stay for a drink. he sits and talks with her on the bus. this is what i mean when i say i think house wanted amber to live for her own sake: by the time she died, he'd stopped seeing her solely as a reflection of himself. he liked her. in that dream-vision on the bus after her death, he confides in her as an equal: wilson is going to hate me. i've often wondered if what might have driven the wedge between house and wilson in an alternate s4 ending where amber lived is house liking her too much, as a flipside to the whole 'mom said it's my turn on the xbox wilson' custody dispute he has going on with her in s4; we never do find out why house got so drunk that night in the first place, and i suspect in a longer s4 it might've been more heavily hinted that he had feelings for her with zero intent of acting on them. all this to say: yeah, i think they would have been friends.

[sqgeism]

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 | percy jackson x gender neutral reader

love mail — knocks at pjo fandom door.. hellooo... hello 🤕.. welcome me kindly please 😔🙌 idk an experimental thing just to see how this does, maybe if it does well i'll write more percy hehehe!! i think he's a neat little fella,, mostly had walker scobell's percy on the mind sooo :p art credits: volumebaixo

the air is thick with the sweet, sugary smell. blue dye stains your apron and percy's fingers, all while he giggles and you shake your head, biting back a smile.

you mix the batter, and have to swat away those greedy, blue hands. percy pouts, pressing his cheek against yours — knowing damn well he's just trying to push you away from the bowl, just enough for him to satiate his craving and get a handful of batter.

when you're lucky enough to shape them, put 'em on a pan, and throw them in the oven, you feel two strong arms around you. they bring you close, and you two just watch the cookies bake. in the reflection of the oven, you can see percy grinning. and it's not the idea of sweet treats in an hour that has him so joyful, but you can see that he's looking at you. he had the same idea, you can guess. to sneak a quick glance at his lover through the glass.

to follow was a sneak attack of kisses to your neck, the sound of laughter, all while there are footsteps moving towards the living room couch, drowns out the hum of the oven baking.

it's cut short with a wiiiiiince.

percy's blonde brows furrowed slightly, and he hates how your smile melts into worry. you're beneath him with your back pressed against the cushions, and he looms over you - once again forgetting about his recent injuries. "percy.." he wants to groan, not out of pain, but out of reluctancy. he knows what's coming, doesn't mean he's ready for it.

the blonde buries himself against your neck, and you take that as him being ready to listen. your arms are careful as they rest over percys back, not wanting to hit any of his injuries.

in the typical fashion of the gods, you two can't have a moment of peace without being reminded. you remember, and remember, and remember - that there's no chance of a life so domestic. no matter how hard you try, being a demi-god will always be first. never human, never a child. never a son or daughter.

you open your mouth, but percy beats you to it. "(name)." he has this little habit, saying your name like it's his last. like he pours in all the admiration he has for you in every utterance of it like a prayer. "i'm.. i'm sorry."

he knows you're upset about it, even if you hide it well behind that smile he loves most. he knows you were angry when he, once again, shoved you out of the way to take an arrow to his back. and for gods sake, so close to his achilles heel. he saw your eyes reflect it all, shock, frustration, then despair. all in a brief moment of almost losing him.

"i know i'm not supposed to, that i told you i'd be more careful— that i knew you could handle yourself." even as he praises your strength, his hands clutch your shirt like he's scared. because he knows, deep down, no one will truly be a match for the gods. the ever-so cruel gods. "but i *can't.* knowing that at the cost of something of my own, you'd be able to walk home and we'd be together. sure, it'll come with pain.. but.. being with you.. it really, truly would be enough."

something hot trickles down your neck, and you press percy against you. he was crying. oh, your loving boy was crying. "no, percy. don't.. don't say that." you blink and you want to curse at the tears threatening to slip.

"damn it, (name)." he laughs, though his voice trembles and he sniffles not long after. "tell me, do you truly think my heart would ever allow me to remain still? after i've come to realize it'll only ever beat for you?"

because to love is to doubt, to be afraid. not of your lover, but the absence of them. to feel ones heart be physically crushed at the idea of no longer waking up beside you.

and as the only thing to be reflected in percys eyes when he looks up at you is your own, you don't doubt it. you hold his face and kiss away the tears, silent reassurance that you understood. that you hear him, and that's all he needs.

gods, he was still so pretty when he cried. face all smushed up cause of your hands — glossy, sea green eyes looking up at you like you're his world. you can't stay mad at a face like percy's forever, a blessing he thanks aphrodite for. the few things he can be grateful for from the gods, really..

you two share the silence a little longer, before the tiner you set rings, and you're reminded to not burn the house down.

through all his sadness, percy's eyes still light up. like his neurons activated because that little alarm meant the cookies were done. so you laugh at him for a bit and ruffle his hair, before patting at his back to get him to move.

"i love you." he has to get that out before he gets up, staring at you expectantly.

he just stares for a bit. you stare back.

he's starting to seem genuinely upset, and you try not to smile.

he's about to complain before you press your lips against his, and percy's anger dissolves quickly. "i love you too."

[sleepingdeath-light]

insufferable ; 18+

kinktober day three

pairing ; zeke yeager x cis female!reader insert

fandom ; attack on titan

masterlists ; fandom | kinktober | ao3

content ; dominant!zeke yeager, vaginal sex, public sex, hate fucking (well… reader claims to hate zeke but it’s up in the air how genuine that hatred is), improvised gag (zeke’s fingers)

minors and ageless blogs do not interact

Zeke Yeager is fucking insufferable, but he was the best fuck you’ve had in years. So every now and again you find yourself willing to turn a blind eye to his glaring flaws if it means getting the thoughts fucked from your head for a little while.

He’s fucked you into your own mattress — hard enough that he’d broken a few slats and you’d needed to get the frame replaced the next day. He’s bent you over meeting tables and had you cumming on his cock mere minutes before you were due to talk with both of your superiors. He’s held you up and had you against the wall of an unoccupied hallway in the middle of the night, clamping a hand over your mouth and biting down on your shoulder to make sure nobody heard you. Hell, he’s even had you bouncing on his cock on the couch in the Warrior’s headquarters to clear his mind after a frustrating meeting.

But this — having sex on a balcony mere metres away from your fellow soldiers — is something new to the both of you. Its terrifying, mortifying, dangerous, risky, and that only makes the whole situation that much more arousing.

So you find yourself here: bent forward over the balcony railing, your trousers and undergarments pulled carelessly down to your knees, your legs spread as far as you can manage, slick sliding down the insides of your thighs, drool leaking out of the edges of your mouth, and being fucked like some common whore Eldian you claim to despise as he shoves his fingers down your throat to keep you quiet and rumbles low threats against the shell of your ear.

Its rough — his grip on your waist, the slap of his hips against your ass, the pounding of his cock into your cunt, the press of his fingers against your tongue — and everything he does skilfully toes the line between bringing pleasure and inflicting pain in such a way that it never fails to leave you dizzy and wanting, but now more than ever you find yourself being receptive of it all. After all you never have been good at keeping quiet when he’s bullying the swollen head of his dick against your cervix, always ending up screaming and moaning and sobbing your throat raw by the end of your time together unless you‘ve been gagged somehow, and when you’re only one wrong move away from getting caught and potentially losing your jobs (something that would prove far more fatal than him than it would for you) you can’t really blame him for being a bit more insistent on your silence than usual.

Though it’s hardly as if you’re given the time to properly consider his motivations as with each thrust of his dick into your soaking wet pussy you feel yourself getting a little bit more limp and a little more dumb. The thoughts practically fleeing from your head more and more with each passing second until all that remains is him: the scratch of his beard against the shell of your ear, the low grunts and groans he’s letting out, the weight of his thick fingers pressing down against your tongue as you gag and drool around them, the slap of his heavy balls against your ass, the blinding pleasure and lingering ache of his long, girthy cock fucking up and into you over and over and over and over…

Something snaps and your body goes limp in his arms with a muffled sob and something that sounded a bit like his name, and Zeke — ever insufferable Zeke — continues fucking you through your climax until he can’t take anymore and falls over the edge himself, unapologetically cumming on the backs of your thighs. Breathless, burning, blissful.

And then he leaves you like that, readjusting his clothes just enough to hide the evidence of what you’d just done before walking back towards the others without sparing you another word or even just a second glance.

Asshole.

[gor3-hound]

MAMA'S BOY - NERO

ft. nero x fem!reader

a/n: if nero does not stop looksmaxxing omfg why is it so hard to find a pic where he isn't mewing? this is admittedly so super self-indulgent and idek what the dmc fandom on tumblr is saying so... if this gets four notes i'll still die happy. feedback and reblogs appreciated :3 ty to @thevirgincherry for beta reading !! ilysm MWAH

cw: 18+ content, mdlb, nipple play, tit play(?) in general, use of mama, handjob, cum eating, super sappy smut basically

word count: 1.8k words

“You've gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me.” Is the first thing that spills past Nero's lips when you mention shifting the dynamics a little bit in your relationship. He's giving you an incredulous look, one of his brows arching towards his hairline.

“I'm really not. You're so irritable all the time. You need to let yourself relax. All that cynicism is getting to your head.” You say with a frown, your brows furrowing as you look at your boyfriend. He's giving you that look again - the one that says he's about three seconds away from saying something downright horrific, but he's choosing not to - to spare your feelings, of course.

“Right. And so, what… you coddling me like a kid's meant to… miraculously make me a ray of sunshine?” He scoffs, his own brows pinching together in frustration as he runs his hand through his hair. The cybernetic one, ‘cause his human hand is currently twitching at his side. “Baby, I love you, but seriously. I've been handling myself for a long while. I don't need you to do it.”

You know it's not that - you know Nero well enough to recognise the uncomfortable shift of his feet and the way the tips of his ears turn a slight pink. He's embarrassed, even if he's trying to hide it. A sense of unease always comes over him when he thinks about being taken care of. It's a luxury he's never had - one he thinks he doesn't deserve.

You give him that look that he really, really hates. ‘Cause you really are the only person that's always looked out for him, so seeing the way your eyes narrow in frustration is enough to have him wanting to kneel at your feet with his tail between his legs, rubbing himself against your thighs and pleading until you forgive him.

Shit. Maybe he's more cut out for this whole ‘mama’ shit than he thought.

His resolve wavers, his hand awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck before he lets out a soft sigh and nods. “Alright, alright. I’ll try it out, but I ain't promisin’ shit.”

                              ˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

Turns out all Nero needs is a few stern words and gentle touches and he's rolling over like a good boy, exposing the soft underbelly he tends to try and keep hidden. When he comes home drained and you're quick to guide him to a bath, it's hard for him not to completely melt under your attention.

Scratch his scalp when you're washing his hair, and he's fully ready to go all ‘yes, mama’ to whatever you want. He's happy to bare himself for you. You want him bent over the back of the couch? On all fours? He'll stick his tongue out and beg for it like a good boy if it meant you'd give him that proud expression that makes his heart feel like it's beating again. Mama gets what mama wants, and that's an irrefutable fact.

“C'mere, baby.” You coo after he makes his way into the apartment after a long day of ‘work’. Blood splatters his feet dragging against the floor. His movements are exhausted - slow and rugged. You can see that glazed over look making itself present in his eyes, his gaze somewhere off in the distance.

His body is working on autopilot as he makes his way to the sofa you're sitting on. He flops down next to you, and the change in him is immediate. The tension melts from him as he buries his face into your chest, nuzzling his way between your breasts as his hands clutch your waist tight enough that it's almost painful.

“Mama…” He croaks out, pressing himself right up against you, trying to wriggle his way on your lap without ever having to disconnect any part of himself from your warmth. You cradle him as best you can - it's not necessarily the easiest thing to have a 6’2 demon hybrid trying to curl up on your lap like a kitten, but he always manages to find a way to worm himself into your arms, clinging to you like he's scared you're gonna vanish as soon as he closes his eyes.

He's never found it so easy to be loved by someone. You gave him that unconditional, no strings attached love. You loved him just ‘cause he was worth loving in your eyes. Not because you needed him for something, or because you had some sense of pity for his situation.

You were easy to love, and his love for you was unwavering and all consuming. It was far too easy to fall into you with your kind eyes and gentle touch. He didn't have to deal with the shit of his life when he was with you. He could finally relax. He was safe.

“Missed you.” He breathes out against the skin peeking out from the low collar of your shirt, his blue eyes flicking up to gaze at your face. His nose brushes your skin, his hands pawing at your shirt as if he's trying to entice you to take it off. “Mama… please.”

“You gotta ask properly, baby. Use your big boy words, c'mon. What do you want from mama?” You coo, running a hand through his white hair. You let your nails rake over his scalp lightly, enjoying the way he shivers at the touch.

His hands slide under the fabric of your shirt, trying to tug it off anyway. He's never been good at this part - getting the words out. His cheeks grow all pink and he gets quiet, just whining until you let him pull the shirt off of your body. As soon as your tits are in view, he's licking, biting and sucking at every inch of skin he can get his mouth on.

“So impatient, baby.” You scold lightly, helping him adjust slightly so you can slip down his trousers, freeing his cock. It's already rock hard and leaky, the tip flushed red as it oozes precum down his length. “S'okay though. It's not your fault. Mama knows you can't think straight without her help.”

You give his dick a squeeze, his face scrunching up so prettily as he bucks his hips into your tight grip, his cock pulsing in your hand. “Mama… Mama, please. I'll be good, c'mon. Been good, just tou-”

His words are cut off with a groan as you finally start pumping his length in your hand, circling your wrist and running your thumb along his slit everytime you fist the head of his cock. You let go to spit into your palm before stroking him again, leaving him panting into your breasts.

His lips latch onto one of your nipples as you continue touching him, slick sounds filling the room. He suckles greedily, his eyes becoming heavy-lidded as he looks up at you, his tongue flicking eagerly against your nipple.

Your free hand cups his head, holding him against your tit as you let him fuck your fist. Your thumb brushes back and forth on his scalp as he pulls away from your nipple, biting and sucking marks into the flesh of your tits instead as his thumb plays with one of your nipples, stroking and pinching the bud.

“You're making such a mess, baby. Leaking all over mama's hand.” You tease, digging your nail lightly into his slit as he bucks his hips, a low whine spilling from his lips. “You sound so pretty, though. Lucky I'm so good to you, huh, pretty boy?”

You can see the conflict on his face at that nickname, the twitch of his brows and the way his face heats up, his teeth biting down just a little harsher as if he's trying to protest the choice. He can act all he wants, but his dick doesn't lie - and it always kicks when you call him that.

“Mama… gonna cum, mama, please…” He grits out, fucking your fist with more urgency. He pulls his face away from your tits just so he can shift his body to gain better control of his hips, rutting into your hand desperately as he chases his release. “Tits, mama. Lemme… lemme cum on you, please. I'll clean it up, promise. Please.”

You pause to think about it for a moment, watching him writhe as he struggles not to cum, his eyes tearing up and his face all flushed as he continues to jerk his hips, unable to stop chasing the pleasure you're giving him.

“Alright, baby. C’mere then.” You murmur, shifting to lie on your back. As soon as your grip on him loosens, he's quick to straddle your waist, kneeling over your body as he hungrily fists his cock, aiming it down towards your breasts.

“Fuck, mama. Gonna… gonna cum.” He grits, his hand quickly coming down next to your head to support his weight as he slumps forward, ribbons of white coating your chest. His lips part in a silent moan, his breath coming out in heavy pants.

He takes a couple of seconds before he leans down, his tongue sliding along your soiled skin. He laps up every drop of his release happily, his eyes practically shimmering with satisfaction.

“There we go. Such a good boy, cleaning up your mess.” You say softly, your hand finding his hair once more, scratching behind his ear in a way that never fails to have him melting in your grasp. He rests his head on your stomach when he's cleaned you up fully, his hand reaching out for yours. He yawns a little, letting himself lie across the couch while using you as his personal pillow.

“You sleepy?” You ask softly, gazing down at his hooded eyes. Nero nods softly, blinking slowly a few times. You smile at him, still stroking his hair with one hand as your free hand comes down to rest on his back, your thumb rubbing small circles there. “Take a nap, baby. Mama will be here when you wake up.”

He gives you another one of his looks - the one halfway between pure adoration and complete confusion. He knows you're someone that sees him. That sees Nero behind the front he puts up. Somehow, you're aware of how fucked up he is, and you're still willing to stay. He doesn't know how to take it, he can feel himself getting choked up as he meets your eyes. And he can't cry, not in front of you. So he nods again, closing his eyes to keep in the unshed tears, wrapping you up tightly in his free arm while his hand squeezes yours as hard as he can without hurting you.

“Alright, mama. Night.” He croaks out, the words he wants to say dying on his tongue. But when you rub your thumb over the nape of his neck and squeeze his hand back, he knows you felt it. He knows you love him, too. He knows that despite everything, it's enough for you. 

He's enough for you.

[gallowscalibr8]

Flawed Vs achieved classpects

First post but whatever Ok, so i have a semi-Head canon/ Semi Theory about classpects, and this could be dumb but fuck it, my wife thinks its cool and thats good enough for me, Flawed Vs achieved classpects The basic premise is that everyone has at least 2 classpects, their flawed, and their achieved. Their achieved classpect is what everyone considers to be their actual classpect, what they achieve after all their hard work and journeys through sburb. Their flawed classpect, however, is when that fails, or if they fail to change at all.

Classpects are supposed to mark your ultimate self after moving past your problems through sburb, right? So... what happens if you just. dont do that? That is your flawed classpect. Think of it like the opposite of an ultimate self, you are the embodiment of your problems. Let me give an example. Say a player with heavy hatred towards themselves plays sburb, and throughout it, they learn to Accept, and even love themselves, while also helping others love themselves, and thus become a Sylph of heart. Now, lets look at another timeline. In this one, they continue to hate themselves, and even hate anyone who even acts like them. In this timeline, they fail to change, and achieve their flawed form, a prince of heart. Does this sound familiar? yes, that's just dirk. A flawed/Achieved classpect is one of those things that you cant really use a quiz or anything for, its a very introspective thigny [Sic]. It is also very specific to a person, and their personal problems. Here's a non-canon example I had involving canon characters that i thought was interesting. Caliborn, as a lord of time, is his flawed classpect. He does not improve, he does not change, he just takes what he wants, and kills who he pleases. Calliope, as a muse of space, is also her flawed classpect. She is unable to actually achieve anything, and just continues to do what she has always done. What are their achieved classpects? The opposite of eachother. Muse of Space Caliborn, and lord of time calliope. In this alternate timeline where they both achieve their true and ultimate selves, things go a lot differently. Firstly, with no LE to "already have been here", Calliope would have just given everyone a happy ending. Boring, I know, we love our angst here, but she would have just not let sburb ever happen, similar to the MSPAR timeline. But, with the help of a much friendlier muse of space caliborn, the two of them would have likely played around with the timeline itself, making new... Alternate Universes. Yep. They both basically just become actual AU and Fanfiction writers.

This actually makes sense too, as they're both meant to represent different parts of the fandom, and thus, the ultimate forms of the fandom are to come together and create something new. (MSPFA's, Fanfiction, AU's, Fanart, ETC.) Has this absolutely been a dumb theory? Maybe, but fuck it, its cool and i like it, so im posting it anyways.

[doomed-silly]

AMANE IS SO TRAGIC

Alright back on my Amane defender kick because once we start getting into the swing of trial 3 that poor girl is going to get beat down asf

I might talk more about her in general story, but this post specifically is about her beef with Shidou (which is funny on paper I just had to say that)

TRIAL 3 SPOILERS BELOW BUT YOU GOTTA CATCH UP SMH

Alright I feel like a lot of people even Amane defenders kind of gloss over her Shidou murder. “She’s against medical care” and on the face of it yes that’s why she killed him, BUT I also think her psychology about the situation goes a lot deeper than just that.

I think I’ve talked about this in a past post, but ADHD so whatever.

So let’s establish some base boards. Amane is not only raised from birth in a cult, but she’s also absolutely going through religious psychosis as well as some sort of “prophet complex” (I say prophet because she’s leading her new sect of this religion, but she’s still a PART of that religion). I also think a lot of Amane antis try to point to her first trial voice drama to say “she didn’t kill her mother in self defense it was a religious motivator she knew what she was doing.” I do think that’s basically the most surface level take ever, but if you have that take sure. I also think when looking at the lyrics of purge march it does kind of shatter this level headed grateful follower persona Amane was trying to portray. In purge march she is very clearly angry saying things along the lines of “remember my cries, my repents, etc”. I think she was religiously motivated not in the sense her mom wasn’t following the religion, so she felt like she had to then punish her, but that she realized the hypocrisies in the religion and it broke her which then led to her murdering her mother. To kill her mother and then call it self defense would then be her having to admit her religion was used to hurt her and that she was upset at that fact. In trial 1 we can see she is still using her religion for comfort, so she’s not ready to confront the fact that she’s actually questioning her faith. I also think that’s why after being voted guilty in trial 1 we got purge march. Milgram effectively scared her back to her religion. I don’t think in trial 1 “magic” she’s hard core questioning her faith, but I do think the seeds were there. I could see a trial 1 innocent verdict starting her path towards possibly getting less intense about her religion with her repeated question of “can I still be a good girl?” And her giving care to the cat being affirmed, but I also think it could’ve made her think her religion is right. Either way I think an innocent verdict was the only way to keep her at bay.

Anyway all of that wraps back around to her IN milgram. Being voted guilty essentially sent her running back to her religion full speed, but I also think that an inno trial 1 would’ve helped her path to healing because after being voted guilty her immediate reaction was to believe in her religion even HARDER, but also see it as the “old” religion for lack of a better term as not harsh enough. Once she got an innocent verdict in trial 2 that essentially sealed her fate with her beliefs. An innocent verdict affirms a prisoners beliefs so when she presents purge march and her new mindset and gets affirmation for that she just sees that as “Oh I WAS correct the old version of my religion didn’t work but no religion also doesn’t work so I need to be the one to fix it.”

(Little side note I hate the milgram fandom acting like everything about the story is so out of our hands when the whole series is built on its audience interactivity, but that’s a different post)

So now we get to the elephant in the room Shidou. Alright. Just on the face of it Shidou is literally a living example of a sinner to Amane. Once she got the affirmation a more violent approach to her religion is the way to go of course shidou would’ve been her first target. I think if you just end the analysis there though that chops off a huge part of her mindset that’s really interesting.

Alright so we know for a fact that Amane is against medical care, she uses her religion as justification for her actions because a lot of her actions are actually not in service of her religion but she’s so brainwashed she can’t let that be true, and she’s also now been essentially told it’s her job to be the leader of this new “Amaneism”.

So yes she killed shidou because hes a sinner. But she also killed him because to her his death is closure, and almost penance. So let’s go through Amane’s crime. Amane was giving medical care to a cat and she was caught by somebody in the church who then told her mother. Once Amane got home she was punished for breaking the rules by getting tazed. Once she goes back to the cats spot and realizes that either her mother or somebody in the cult did something to that cat (most likely killed it). This is where Amane starts to break. In purge march we see her disconnect from reality in the umbrella transition which from there she goes back home and kills her mother.

So looking at all of this. In AMANE’S head medical care is the specific reason she ended up in milgram. Now I’d say it’s heavily implied and basically shown Amane killed her mother not for religious reasons, but because of the abuse she endured (which I talked about earlier), but in her head it was religious. Amane broke the rules of her religion specifically around medical care which then spurred her to murder. So to Amane giving somebody/thing medical care caused her to end up in milgram. And once in milgram she was subjected to things like the guilty verdict.

Now. We have Shidou. Yes shidou is the living embodiment of a primary sin of Amane’s religion, BUT more importantly to Amane he is a physical representation of why she is here. To Amane he’s not just someone who daily goes against her religion, he is a living showcase of Amane’s greatest shame and reason for even being in Milgram. Did Amane kill Shidou for sinning? Yes. That’s not up for debate. I would propose the theory however that while that may have been the superficial reason, she had to kill him not just because amaneism is more violent, but because now that she’s fully embraced this religion she has to let go of the part of herself or honestly to her what she sees as a weakness. For her killing Shidou is a rectifying of her past mistakes and maybe on an even deeper subconscious level a way for her to let out her anger about even being in Milgram

Some final thoughts below

One thing I really dislike about the milgram fandom and especially with Amane is that they don’t treat her as a kid. Actually on top of that they don’t treat her as a kid, or a victim of abuse, or a brainwashed cult member. Especially all of those things together.

Amane quite literally can not be a reliable narrator because of how much she’s gone through and because of the ages she’s gone through it. It’s the same in real life when kids are raised in Christianity and with their full hearts see a lot of things they do as sinful and cry over going to Hell.

To look at Amane go “I killed my victim because I had to impart justice on my victim in the name of my religion” and take that as 100% fact, exactly what she thinks, and think that there is no nuance or even more behind that statement is ludicrous.

You can apply this to basically all of the prisoners in some way. Mahiru says over and over she just had a normal relationship and just loved as anyone else did, but even in her first trial song is showing that she doesn’t fully believe that. And the prisoners aren’t just able to alter the videos to get a verdict they want it is a reflection of what’s going on inside their heads. Mahiru even says I’m not a great singer I hope it’s ok. Prisoners talk about Es and their thoughts on their crimes and the music videos with estimation implying they don’t know what Es saw.

Amane isn’t different. “Magic” would not be so conflicted if she truly had zero doubts or if she was 100% honest that her murder was solely religiously motivated. After her punishment montage in “Magic” she gets up with the spirals in her eye which is basically always short hand for brain washing or not being in control of ones actions. It’s actually baffling to me that other prisoners will get hordes of people clamoring to point out every reason why a prisoner is innocent, or guilty, or why you should look at what they’re saying differently, but when it’s Amane’s turn it’s crickets.

Amane’s age, trauma, and upbringing is INTEGRAL to her crime and CHARACTER. No Amane is not to be taken at face value. If you talk to a child in real life that’s gone through HALF of what Amane has gone through you wouldn’t immediately expect them to be of sound mind. Sometimes I get genuinely confused when I see people try to act like Amane isn’t extremely tragic and that she’s just some religious zealot who is pure evil and can never be listened to

-

I always start these posts thinking I’m just gonna have a quick 5 paragraph post and then I end up typing like it’s my dissertation so um anyways. thanks for reading LOL

(Yes I add all the hashtags I can think of don’t judge me)

[olderthannetfic]

The ongoing and seemingly continuous discussion of f/f shipping is equal parts frustrating and depressing for me.

I like f/f, m/m, and m/f pairings equally, but you’ll only ever see me posting about m/m and m/f on my blog or on my AO3 because of the responses I’ve gotten to my headcanons and fics. I have gotten passive aggressive insults, been called slurs, and even gotten death threats, not because I ship f/f but because I ship the “wrong kind” of f/f.

For example: 5 years ago I was really big into the She-Ra (2018) fandom and my OTP was Glimdora (Glimmer/Adora), an f/f ship. But they were an unpopular ship in the fandom who overall preferred to ship Adora with the series antagonist (also a woman) instead.

My blog was spammed with Anon hate and Tumblr kept sending me those emails asking if I was a risk for self harm. On my AO3 I got accused of being homophobic or lesbian phobic even though I was posting fics of two women being in love.

I got sick of it, so I left the fandom and now I just don’t post my f/f fic or headcanons anymore. I share them with my IRL friends instead.

Like, I agree, it does suck royally that there just isn’t very much f/f content out there, especially not compared to m/m and m/f ship. But f/f spaces made it very clear that I, a person who did write and post f/f fics, was not welcome in f/f spaces.

It makes me depressed because it’s hard enough being an AFAB person in a world that hates both women and queer people IRL. F/f communities online SHOULD be a haven for us. But they for that to happen we need to accept all f/f, but we don’t. Our communities are overly concerned with “letting the right ones in”.

And I’m frustrated when I post after post of fellow f/f shippers screaming into the void begging for more f/f content. Like, my sisters, if you WANT more f/f content you need to ALLOW more f/f content.

--

[wintrsss]

『Having a Crush on a Porter』

Fandom: Death Stranding

Characters: Sam, Higgs.

Genre: Fluff, Headcanon.

Warnings: Slight spoilers to Higgs' backstory, but nothing major; mention of stalking. Reader is gender neutral!

A/N: 'DDS' is delivery dependence syndrome for those who don't know/ forgot! It's mentioned in Sam's part.

Requests open!

.ೃ࿐

-

Sam Porter Bridges

Sam isn't one to want to interact other porters, he's just there to get the job done, nothing more

You two just coincidentally met at the same location when completing your orders

And then it happened again. And again... and again. That was when you just had to get to know eachother, you of course starting the conversations, which then lead you two to become friends after a good while

Sam is always looking out for you, telling you to take breaks when you need and telling you to watch out for the MULEs during your deliveries, wouldn't want you to get DDS or getting your things stolen

If he finds an area that was hard to traverse or has a lot of timefall, he'll put up upcoming warning signs or, if he's got the time, build timefall shelters with you in mind

In his opinion, he doesn't think you should be a porter, but that's just his worried self talking

'This job is too dangerous, you shouldn't waste your life on something like this', is something that runs through his mind when he thinks about you, but he knows you're fully capable of handling yourself out there, as much as he hates to admit it

Would he confess to you? Most likely not, unfortunately

Sam is more of a lone wolf type of guy with all he's been through, so not only does he prefer to keep it that way for those reasons, but he doesn't want to ruin the already existing relationship between you two

Sam fears losing you, both to death and if you were to end your friendship

So if keeping the good friendship he has with you comes at the cost of the two of you not developing into something more, then so be it

Let's just hope it's you who confesses for him

-

Higgs Monaghan

Unknowing enemies to lovers lol

In all honesty, he only took interest when he saw you frequently talk to Sam while delivering

And he knows Sam of all people wouldn't have a friend, I mean come on! Why would anyone want to talk to him?

So what was with you? He couldn't get it off of his mind, and he didn't want to admit he was jealous that Sam got the attention of someone who genuinely liked being around him and he didn't

And so he made it his duty to take your attention off of Sam and onto him instead, as he can't stand Sam of all people having something he doesn't

It doesn't take long for him to thinking of you romantically, with all the stalking he's done on you

You're his new pizza delivery person from now on, get ready to have your email spammed by a certain 'Peter Englert'

Look, he already likes to mess with Sam on his deliveries, do you really think you'll be any different?

Though, it won't be done by the same hate he has for Sam, rather, he does it out of his own enjoyment of watching you struggle with deliveries

He'll even go as far as to mess with you while you're delivering his orders, but not too much since he still cares about his pizza

But if you manage to deliver his things on time and in good condition, he'll be sure 'Peter' gives you many compliments on your delivery, ever so grateful for your effort

So basically, during your time as a porter, you'll be shown both his "good" and "bad" sides without even knowing they're the same person

If he ever decided on trying to confess to you, he wouldn't say it outright, deeming it a bit too "cliché" for his tastes. Instead, he would write for you in one of his emails (or in all of them until you finally realize lol) a secret message for you to decipher on your own

Which is just him spelling out something like 'I like you' or 'ur hot' with the first letters of his sentences. Nothing too complex, but also enough to let that nerdy side of him out

[astridthevalkyrie]

Do you think the ck fandom downplays Miguel and Sam cheating on their partners? I don’t think it’s talked about enough, regardless of Whether sam was drinking

I may be a little biased because I HATE cheaters

i mean the fandom definitely doesn't downplay sam cheating lmao. at least not on tiktok or reddit. generally i think it's considered the worst thing she ever did. people hate her for that more than they hate the other characters for literally anything, including physical assault and attempted murder.

miguel maybe? the show and fandom both kinda excuse him for it because he pays the price during the school fight. mind you i think if sam had been the one who ended up paralyzed (fire fanfic idea btw) people would still probably hate her more than they hate miguel in canon.

the show downplays it by never really having sam or miguel apologize to tory and robby, but again. the reason they don't is because tory attempted to kill sam and robby came very close to actually killing miguel. like in juvie robby full didn't know whether miguel would make it or not and he doesn't seem to show remorse about it. did sam and miguel hurt them first? yeah. but tory and robby hurt them more, and i think it'd be hard for anyone, let alone teenagers with PTSD, to be the first to apologize in that scenario. by the time they're all on the same side, it doesn't seem like tory or robby want an apology either or care to have one (which. doylist explanation is just that the writers didn't care to have it).

frankly more than the cheating i wish they'd acknowledge how miguel helped to escalate the school fight for almost all its entirety. during robby and miguel's fight in s5, robby should've actually said the words "i'm sorry" instead of just "it was also the worst moment in my life" like bruh c'mon. why are you making this about you he got PARALYZED. and after that miguel should've apologized for escalating the fight when robby was trying to stop it. if the writers gave a damn about miguel and tory's relationship they should've apologized to each other too.

i think the actual words "i'm sorry" being spoken are also why almost everyone generally agrees sam and tory's apology scene is better. but notice how during that scene, tory says "it's not like you haven't tried to kiss my boyfriend before" but robby never says anything like that to miguel? sam will always hold the blame in the writers' and fandom's eyes for the kiss despite being hammered.

tory and miguel should've apologized to each other. sam and robby should've also apologized to each other. at some point robby should've learned that when the kiss happened, sam was reeling from learning that robby had lied to her (i have. thoughts about sam's feelings here but i won't get into them rn). sam's actions in s3 should've been more consistent. she went to the skate park everyday to look for robby and emails him all the time but never once tries to visit him in juvie? could make a watsonian explanation that daniel told her how angry he was and so she was afraid to see him or maybe she was mad about what happened to miguel but idkkk she does still email him. she clearly does still care for him. robby's actions are also weird i think him being this mad at daniel is just strange. way too many of robby's plot points are dependent on bad timing lmfao.

the writers didn't want to completely villainize sam but still needed to give robby a reason to join ck so that's why characters have to act super inconsistent. daniel not visiting robby in juvie even ONCE is insane considering he tells him he'll visit everyday. sure, robby was hanging up on his calls, but that shouldn't have stopped daniel. sam and daniel both had to be ooc to give robby a reason to fall into kreese's clutches. it's just weird.

i got very off topic but tldr it would've been nice to get proper apologies from miguel and sam for cheating. but it also would've been nice to get proper apologies from robby and tory for attempted murder 💀 the fandom doesn't downplay sam's cheating, but it does downplay miguel's, albeit for somewhat good reason

[bestworstcase]

So having already moved past the idea of Yang as a Maiden - I do suspect the other reason people jump to that conclusion is people getting Raven's trajectory wrong. Yang as Maiden is the obvious conclusion if you think that Raven is going to come back to save Yang and die for it. Which... look, I can see Raven getting badly hurt. But dying - nah. The STRQ team and the Rose-Xiao Long household is not getting any outs from the most awkward family conversation ever. (Though your points about Raven actually being very difficult to kill does mean that the show can have the Spring Maiden get Yang out of a really tight spot without killing Raven or sacrificing tension) But it does feel like the idea has bit at least in some respects of the fandom that way to balance Raven being a coward/bandit and the setup for the untested "Everyone Only Gets One (Save)" rule is for Raven to come in and die for it.

mhm

i think something that is broadly true of this fandom is a general struggle to conceptualize what the narrative can meaningfully do with old-guard characters that isn’t… killing them off. qrow gets this a lot too, he’s nominally ruby’s mentor but she’s outgrown that relationship and is now on a level with him and there’s a persistent belief that it’s only a matter of time before his time is up. but it isn’t just him, i’ve also seen this attitude toward pietro, for example. (including one. memorable post that outright expressed surprise that pietro and maria survived v8 on the grounds that without penny the op thought it was pointless for the narrative to keep them around, because what would they even be doing in vacuo. which is absurd!)

and then raven in particular is a difficult character – fandoms always have a hard time with performative/masking behaviors, rwby is no different, although i do think the specific way rwby utilizes archetype and allusion makes it worse because fandom is also bad at paying attention – on top of also being, in v5, an antagonistic character to yang.

(i hesitate to describe her role as villainous, because raven’s response to getting backed into a corner was to neatly sabotage salem’s operation; she didn’t help salem under duress, she acted as a double agent on behalf of team oz under duress, and what she did wrong was mainly not communicate this to them. as ever raven is very brave about everything that isn’t having a slightly difficult conversation with someone she cares about. lol)

the point being, raven gets this general difficulty this fandom has with the old guard stacked on top of 1. being a difficult character (as a woman lmao) so a lot of people just don’t like her very much, and 2. being an antagonistic (or outright villainous) character depending on whether one takes raven “joining” salem at face value or not. so a fair amount of “speculation” that raven will die is either character hate in the guise of theory, and i think there is a large share of raven-will-die-saving-yang theories that boil down to redemption-by-heroic-sacrifice thinking.

what’s funny about that, aside from the obvious factor of raven being in vacuo now (and the most probable reason for her to only be in the last section of the epilogue being that she arrived on the refugee ship from vale and the likeliest answer there being that after haven she went to loop glynda in and help out because she knew salem would be coming back for the crown sooner or later), is how pragmatic she is and how desperately in need the heroes are right now of pragmatists – real pragmatists, not “leave mantle to die”-ish cowardice masquerading as pragmatism.

like. raven has been the leader of what appears to be a quite large encampment of bandits for more than a decade now, right, and to all appearances she’s done a great job – they respect her, trust her to have their backs, morale seems high, they’re well-supplied (by non-huntsman standards) and well-provisioned, they’re disciplined enough to erect fairly impressive temporary fortifications surrounding their camps – all of this suggests that raven is skilled at managing problems of scarcity, attrition, morale, grimm predation etc under fairly harsh conditions.

those problems are much larger in vacuo and the branwen subsistence strategy of raiding settlements is off the table, but – raven’s experience managing these sort of challenges in the animan wilderness is invaluable here! (especially if she brought all her bandits with her, because that’s a small militia that can whip up very nice ad hoc fortifications in an hour or two, given materials to work with, and two maidens solves the “no trees in the desert” problem).

and raven is also – demonstrably – someone capable of being very cunning, and turning lose/lose situations to her advantage even under intense pressure. salem’s people strolled into her camp like they owned the place, and raven took a deep breath, went “okay, we planned for this,” and played them like a fiddle! she is the reason salem’s infiltration of haven failed, and had everything gone according to raven’s plan, cinder would have died that night with omen in her back.

without the spring maiden, they’re all going to die. not because of her magical power, but because of who raven is. they need someone who can think and plan like this. they need someone who can evaluate an impossible situation and make tough choices like “i want my brother dead” – given the choice between capitulating or letting her people get massacred, raven bet on qrow not being stupid enough to walk unarmed into an obvious trap without backup, and tricked cinder into letting her tiny infiltration force be outnumbered almost two-to-one by highly trained combatants.

raven is what ironwood thought he was.

and she’s decided to join the coalition at a critical moment when they have zero good, easy choices ahead of them.

it would be absurd and baffling for the story to kill off raven at this point – this is Her Moment! and she and yang get to have their uncomfortable, painful, incredibly fraught reunion after haven in a time where raven has plainly earned back the full trust of the vacuo coalition, in all likelihood in large part by showing the fuck up at exactly the right moment her skillset and perspective were most helpful. which creates a really juicy tension for the personal relationship she has to now build with yang!