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#but the girls (gender neutral) who get it get it
beneathashadytree · 3 days
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CALLING THEM “A FRIEND” - PRANKING THE LOVE AND DEEPSPACE MEN
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Warnings : none I think, reader is gender-neutral!
Genre : gen/fluff
Additional notes : I LOVE getting requests for silly little pranks, they’re such a breath of fresh air🥰🥰
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Taglist: @angry-and-yandere @nxx-jordiepord @honestlyjustablog @dawnbreakersgaze @tartartagliaboo @lucis-noctiana @mushriiin @flurrina @reika-desu @randomidk-123 @tikitsune @cofijelli @roll-of-royces @loveyoutodeep @belovedof @obiwanmcprobie @hawtlineblingz @kalatipunan @eurekazz @bifedebruxa @thescribeswife @mysticangel123 @xenasolos @jvnluvr @dann-acalle @rosariymchapter @rin-sv14 @yololesgo @an-ever-angry-bi @semi-orangeapple @lavanderbliss @myturnwhen @winterlvod @carsonology @zaynesaurora @deepzombieyouth @respitable @stellisangelicus-world @kvsqkiii @bitchynightmarepost @snoozeflare @spotted-salamander @cindywasneverhere @ladyparamount @sncrly0urs @huntersmoon1 @musiclover2119 @girl-who-lives-in-delusion @milktsukii @sartorialcannibal @flavoredhappy @hrhmimieucliffe @icedunderwaterroom @ay-chuu @granddearduck @skriblobz (more in the replies!)
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extemts · 20 hours
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Since you asked, I will be here kindly dropping an ask for a request to write something for Joost.
Do you do sweet jealousy? Where the reader is jealous? Nothig toxic obviously 😂
For example where now that he is gaining more love from people, and thus more attention from girls too, the reader pouts when he talks to this girl who approached him and she is a bit more touchy feely with him? While she is understanding and happy for him, naturally the jealousy can't be hold back.
Or whip something up that just flows from your imagination 😌
Thank you in advance!
Mwah 💋
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Well, my boyfriends pretty cool, you will never reach him.
I love this one!! I always think about this ngl. People cross boundaries a lil too much, so this is your reminder to be aware of your surroundings.
requested? yes!
reader? gender neutral!
genre? jealousy, eventual fluff
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Cold post show beers, breezy hangouts behind the venue, thank you's being exchanged, it was all routine at some point. After his shows someone would get some cold beer while the crew enjoyed the nice breeze outside the venue after the show, just for everyone to cool down, especially Joost. You however stayed rather quiet today, your red hands wrapping around the ice cold bottle, the look in your eyes rather empty as you stare at your boyfriend and those girls next to him.
Unfortunately the area behind the venue seemed to be easily accessible to everyone, and while you were always happy for him to have fans that care so much, it would get hard to watch from time to time. He would never decline a photo with a fan, or an autograph, even the countless gifts he regularly got unless he was genuinely unwell, but the dutch singer was still high on adrenaline and already quite drunk, so he basically welcomed the group of girls with open arms, ready to listen to them. Typically this would really never be an issue, most people knew about your relationship and always supported it, even though you never made it public, so sometimes you were even asked to be in the photo along with them, but this particular group of girls seemed to be completely oblivious to the concept of personal space. One of them seemed particularly interested in him- she must have been your age aswell, at least the tattoos you could see on her body told you quite clearly that she was a grown woman. If it would have been a fourteen year old fangirl or something, you might have been able to excuse it.
There she stood, that grin on her face as she runs her fingers over the tattoos on Joost's arm, talking about how he looks oh so good with them. She kept getting more physical in subtle yet somehow obvious ways, to the point where he started looking awfully uncomfortable too, especially by the time he shot a glance at you only to see that pout and the empty look in your eyes as you stare at them. "Any plans after the show? You must be celebrating the end of your tour. I know a really cool club just around the corner, maybe I'll see you there." she eventually let her fingers drift off of his arm as she gives him one last little wave before leaving with her friends, still giggling carelessly like she didn't have a worry in the world. Once he was free of her again, you felt Joost sitting down next to you, your eyes piercing through the ground until he wrapped his arm around you, making you look up at him again. "I'm sorry sweetheart, some people don't know boundaries..." he whispers as not to pull the attention of the rest of the crew on you, somehow making the accent in his voice even more prominent by doing so. He leans in and starts posting soft kisses along your jawline, knowing damn well this is a ticklish spot for you.
It cheered you up, made you chuckle again before pushing his face away with your hand, trying to break free from the tickling feeling. "Now don't just push me away!" he starts acting all offended, gasping at your behavior before he goes right back to attacking your face with a swarm of soft little pecks all over, his arms wrapped around you so you truly have no way of escaping, if you even wanted that.
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okaaaay lets go
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folkloreweasley · 1 day
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Incomparable
fandom: Bridgerton
pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Reader
summary: you don’t fit in quite well with the rest of the ton, but you still manage to catch the eye of the Viscount
note: this is for the girlies with resting bitch face, warning this is a fem!reader as much as i prefer a gender neutral reader, the heteronormative regency society just doesn’t allow it
this was already once posted before on my since deleted blog by my same current name but has been slightly edited :)
It was only one of the first balls of many and you were already regretting your unfortunate position as a newly presented flower of the season. You never thought you had what it took to be this year’s diamond, nor its ruby, nor its pearl, or any jewel for the matter. In your eyes you didn’t have the effortless glimmer that Daphne Bridgerton had last season nor the graceful steps of this season's ingénue, Edwina Sharma.
Of course, you had prepared all your life for this moment like every upper class girl. Knowing all that you should to be presented into society. You sat through the pianoforte lessons and even tried your hand at singing (which was a terrible mistake). You learned to embroider from your mother, much to the dismay of your aching fingers which always manage to burn and go numb far too quickly for her liking. You read all the textbooks even though you much preferred novels, never understanding the point of your tutors' comments about men wanting to marry educated girls. Quickly learning as you grew older and more outspoken that gentlemen like to know a woman is well read, but hardly ever that they use that knowledge in conversation.
But somehow, even after the painstakingly long hours at the modiste getting fitted for new dresses and the even longer time you spent getting into them, none of it was enough. Not the lessons, not the newly dropped hem, not the hours of sitting for your hair to be expertly styled and bejeweled by the finest gems your family had to offer. Still every other lady and her mama have had to comment on how you are so far from even the realm of possibly being considered a diamond. You heard their whispers through the silk and lace of their folding fans as clear as the night.
‘They barely graced the Queen with a smile,”
‘They’ll definitely grow to be a spinster with that face,’
Oh, but this wasn’t only from the women, of course not, they just have the decency to try and say this behind your back. You are well aware of how men love to grace you with their opinion, despite you caring very little for it. They always have the audacity to say these things straight to your somber face as if it would do you any good.
‘You know, you would be slightly prettier if you smiled,’
‘If you would smile, you would seem much more amiable,’
and most recently,
“I am sure more gentlemen would ask for a dance if you didn’t look so miserable, my Lady,”
You had been approached by a well-respected gentlemen named Mr. Hastings when you had escaped your mother’s disapproving clutches to find solace at the refreshments table. Drinking lemonade desperately wishing it were wine. He asked you to dance. Much to your misfortune you couldn’t fain a full dance card as the one clutched in your gloved hand was mockingly empty. This left you enduring a dreadfully boring conversation about his horse, how much it had cost him, how much it is actually worth, and just how incredible this horse was. You quite frankly wished to be anywhere else. As would anyone else you’re sure, but while they may have hid that behind a polite smile you showed your boredom evidently in your downturned lips.
But what would be the point in hiding it? You were tired of the facade that enwrapped these balls and society. Everyone was smiling, but was anyone truly happy? Even then who is happy and just goes around smiling like some loon. You were having a terrible time parading around the room with your mother’s stern grip on your arm showcasing you like a piece of meat, or a show pony— or to be terribly on the nose, Mr. Hastings prized horse.
Then once you had finally escaped her and found peace hoping to blend in to the wallpaper, you have been made to endure small talk and dance with a man you had little interest in. All while he made you listen to his horrendously dull conversation and he had the nerve to ask— no, to want you to not look miserable. This man who looked like molding swiss cheese and only spoke of his horse.
“I beg you pardon, sir?”
“That you look as if you are attending a funeral, my lady,” he says as he spins you following the choreography of the dance, “It is only polite that you smile as we dance.”
His own obviously fake smile is painted across his face, all thin lips and no teeth as he eyes you expectantly waiting for you to obediently heed his suggestion—or more likely it was a sort of social command. Polite society would have deemed you to be all smiles and perfect wit, to ease yourself out of this treacherous conversation you were wormed into with a poised grace or give in to his orders with a sickly sweet smile because it would be rude not to, no?
But no, indeed. You were not going to give in. No matter how many whispered or backhanded compliments you received only on your first night into society. You had seen how your female cousins and older friends had broken their backs to bend to the whims of society. Left behind forgotten ideals to suit their new suitors to get the ring and the wedding that would never even scratch at their fanciful girlish dreams of prince charmings and knights in shining armor. You would not let society break you.
“Well, I would smile if I was having a nice time. Maybe if you said something funny I would laugh or if the conversation was pleasant,” you had stopped dancing now, tired of this day and all the niceties and manners you were to follow.
You stood before him with your jaw clenched and your brows furrowed absolutely seething, “But you are far from pleasant. All you do, sir, is speak of your race horse and how much it is worth to you. If you care so much about your horse, I wonder why you ever wish to marry when all your attention seems to be going to your insipid horse!”
“Why you rude, intolerable girl—”
You didn’t care any more about the staring eyes of the ton or the gasps from appalled mamas. You would have welcomed all of Mr. Hastings angry words to at least hear something real for the first time all day. But instead he is cut short as the figure of a man approaches your side.
“I beg your pardon Mr. Hastings. How dare you raise your voice to a lady, have you no honor or decorum?”
Viscount Anthony Bridgerton stood before the two of you. Chin tilted upwards and shoulders set back in an unspoken challenge with the less titled man in front of you.
His question goes unanswered, but he continues nodding to you, “I believe the Lady makes a very agreeable point, sir. You speak entirely of your horse and nothing else, this would bore any with a brain in the ton.”
You almost would have laughed if you weren’t so shocked. What exactly was the Viscount doing? You hardly ever spoke other than short introductions and nods exchanged while you were in the company of his sister and your friend, Eloise.
But there was not a moment to think on this further as the scene that was forming around you was all too captivating. Mr. Hastings, who it should be mentioned once more felt so prideful of his horse, can be seen visibly shrinking shoulder hunching forward slumping as if he were a little boy who lost a game. He clears his throat, “Well then, I shall take my conversation elsewhere.”
Before he could turn to leave the eldest Bridgerton son stops him, “Sir, you have forgotten to apologize to the Lady,”
Mr. Hasting freezes in his place turning to eye the man and you bite your lip fighting the laugh that threatens to erupt at the odious man whose eyes widen and mouth becomes agape like a fish out of water.
“My apologies,” the words seem to clog at his throat and so he says nothing else. Nodding, “Lord Bridgerton...” and your name before meekly making his way through the crowd, his head down avoiding the gazes of the onlookers.
At this point most of the ton had gone back to their conversations around you, though there were still some lingering eyes as the dance floor had been oddly shaped as you and the Viscount remained standing in part of the appointed area. Anthony notices this and leads you further into the crowd.
Once he finds an agreeable spot he stops turning towards you, “I actually do wish to counter your statement, my lady,” he begins. You expect for a moment to be met with some stern lecture from a man who seems to think he’s entitled to an opinion of you as if he were your father (who you also do not think should have an opinion, but alas it is only 1814). Anthony surprises you however as instead he grins and says, “I actually believe Mr. Hastings would marry his horse if the Queen would allow it.”
And you couldn’t help but laugh, despite all your pride and pettiness to not grace this event or anyone in it with any pleasurable countenance. You laughed loudly tilting your head back, jeweled neck on display even letting out a small snort against your will. When you finally compose yourself, giggles dying down at the thought of Mr. Hastings in a horrid muddy green suit with a horse in a wedding dress, you can’t fight the smile that falls on your lips. Although unnatural to you, the light hearted joke and your vivid imagination make it easy. It lasts for a few seconds before you become very conscious of it as you let your lips fall back to their usual place.
Though if anyone was truly looking for it— which Anthony was— they would see the slight quirk in your lips as you told the Viscount, “It looks like you’ve gained the honor of making me laugh, Mr. Bridgerton.”
“I relish the title, my lady,” he says and you can tell he does from the smile that meets his ears, all teeth and pushed back cheeks. You acknowledge that this might be the realest encounter you have had since your debut. Anthony Bridgerton smiling from ear to ear was a sight to see.
He continues, “But I do have to disagree with the comments I have been hearing tonight. Smile or no smile you present the ladies looking to wed this season with quite the competition.”
“Me? Hardly, did you not hear my Lord, my countenance would never get me a marriage proposal,” you say fiddling with the hem of your gloves at your wrist.
“I would disagree, I think any reasonable man in attendance would be foolish to not see how incomparable you are, my lady.”
Incomparable.
You fight it like you had once your laugh, but you feel the heat spread to your cheeks and the nerves that begin to twist in your stomach. You didn’t need it, but the compliment was well appreciated after a night such as this one.
Giving you no time to compose the fluttering in your chest, Anthony adds, “Any lady who manages to be bold enough to tell Mr. Hasting how insufferable his horse talk is, ranks high in my book.”
“Well you might be the only one, sir,” you try to be as brave as you feel and dare to smile at him, but his gaze causes you to look away bashfully. That is when you notice your mother approaching and wishing not to make a fool in front of the Viscount you excuse yourself, “I do believe my mother has just been informed of the scene I have caused, so if you’ll excuse me.”
But before you can turn to go he calls out your name placing his warm bare hand on your own gloved fingers making you turn back to him.
“Would you save me a dance?”
And despite yourself, Anthony Bridgerton manages again to make you smile, “Of course”.
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arson-09 · 2 days
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one of the many issues i find with sjms writing (and subsequently her fans) is that a character has to be perfect to be loved (this is acotar specific) hear me out ((apologies in advance for the somewhat rambling and nonsensical bits. its late lmao)
Just about everything Feyre and Rhysand do is justified. Rhysands entire list of evil actions from acotar is retconned. Him murdering those winter court children was suddenly by an unnamed daemati whos never brought up again, his sexual assault of feyre was “for her protection”, and in general the way he treated her UtM is okayed (sa is never justifiable, even in fictional media) and him keeping very important information about Feyres body from her is fine because he was doing it to spare her feelings (also never ok to keep information of ones body from the individual)
Feyre is allowed to destroy the spring court. No matter how you feel about Tamlins character the actions she took were extreme, petty, and useless. She collectively punished the citizens of the spring court because of her relationship with Tamlin and she believed him to be allying with Hybern. Which was hinted to her to be false and she could have read his mind at any point. Feyre also is a unreliable narrator but her word is taken as truth. When she has magical outbursts its nothing, she can treat her supposed friends like shit but shes still the better friend.
Together they constantly spout how perfect the other is. Especially Feyre about Rhysand, maybe its the mating bond but the bond is how sjm communicates her feelings about the characters (which i feel is evident in the Nessian bond) Feyre says rhysand is Good and Justified in everything he does, so you the reader must believe it too, right?
The rest of the Inner Circle also falls into this. Mor is allowed to unfairly treat Nesta like shit, Cassian is unquestioned when it comes to his mistreatment of his mate, azriel is a background tapestry, and amren is a whole different issue tbh.
Nesta is the outlier. She is not perfect and we know it because of how mistreated she is by the people that surround her. Cassian is a horrible partner, letting rhysand do and say what he wants to her, restricting her food and being very neglectful of Nestas mental health. Nesta is a flawed character but shes not an antagonist. Her flaws does not call for this sort of treatment. It is disgusting how sjm portrays Nestas character and her “healing arc”. Sjm says she loves nesta, but her treatment says otherwise.
Tamlin receives the brunt of this treatment. He is a flawed character but is not evil. Hes not even a real antagonist, just because he is not friends or on good terms with Feyre and Rhysand does not make him such. His allying with Hybern is used as reasoning for his mistreatment when its clear as day hes a double agent. Tamlin, while he struggles with emotional regulation, anger issues and communication is a very good high lord and his personal relationship with a character does not change that. His actions towards feyre are often called abusive but sjms writing fails to bring this observation to fruition. She fails to actually make him abusive and antagonistic because she accidentally writes her own outs by justifying similar behaviors from other characters.
If you have spent anytime on the majority side of the fandom you have seen the Feyre and Rhysand vs Nesta and Tamlin mentality. Nesta and Tamlin are hated while Feysand are treasured and its because sjm makes a perfect character for you to love so why would you root for the flawed characters hated by the narrative? Nesta and Tamlin are far more nuanced and interesting due to their imperfections, dislike by the narrative, and hatred from the majority fandom. (To note, Nesta and Tamlins characters are different ((although they have some striking similarities)) but their treatment is very equal. Which is why i, and many other people in the fandom compare and combine them so much)
Feyre and Rhysand through the narrative and fans are perfect and can do no wrong. Tamlin and Nesta are frankly evil and undeserving of love. Its intriguing to see this behavior and its almost unique to the acotar and booktok fandom. Which is why i find myself so focused on Tamlin and subsequently the fandom. its so odd and something i havent seen before that it gets stuck in my little adhd brain.
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munsonsmixtapes · 2 days
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Would it be possible to request (in the extent to which you are inclined to write it, if at all ❤️) a house party (maybe at Steve’s because he’s a little shit) where the mutually pining Eddie and the reader are SABOTAGED into a rigged game of 7 minutes in heaven which, needless to say, changes the nature of their friendship 👀
Thank you so much for the request, lovely! I love this idea!
Eddie x gender neutral!bestie!reader
You couldn’t believe you had let Eddie drag you to yet another one of Steve’s parties. They were always just another excuse for people to get drunk and you never cared for the company either. You didn’t understand why Eddie liked them so much, but you could never say no when looking into those big brown eyes. They always got you into trouble.
You stood by Robin and Nancy the entire night since Eddie took the opportunity to make some deals and you didn’t want to ruin them. But maybe you should have stuck with him since all the girls did was tease you about your little (huge) crush on the metalhead.
They had been trying to set the two of you up for years to no avail and were getting tired of sitting by and watch the two of you pine when it was obvious that you had feelings to each other.
That night, they were finally going to set you up with a little game of seven minutes in heaven. But knowing how stubborn the two of you were, they weren’t sure how it would work, but were still eager to try.
“We should all play a game,” Nancy suggested, maybe a little too enthusiastically. You weren’t into the usual party games and knew that whatever she was going to suggest was definitely something you were going to sit out on.
“Uh, no thanks.” You tried to back up, but Robin just grabbed hold of your arm, pulling you into the living room where everyone was already gathered.
“No, you have to. I promise it’ll be fun.” Her words didn’t sound promising, but you gave in, not wanting to disappoint her nor Nancy.
“What’s the game?” You asked and they both just smirked at you. That couldn’t have been good.
“Seven minutes in heaven,” they replied in unison and you just rolled your eyes in response. No fucking way were you playing that stupid game. The only person you wanted to play with was nowhere to be found and you didn’t want to be locked in a closet with anyone else but him.
“No way,” you shook your head. You couldn’t do it. You felt like it was a betrayal to Eddie even though you were sure that he didn’t feel the same way. You were always just going to be his best friend.
Nancy made you sit down on the couch next to Eddie who just shrugged at you when your eyes made contact. So apparently he had no idea what was going on either. That made you feel a bit better.
“Everyone ready to play?” Robin asked.
“No,” you and Eddie replied with a grumble and the girl just smiled in your direction.
Her eyes lit up and you felt your heart hammer in your chest as you realized what was happening. It was all a set up! You didn’t know why you hadn’t seen it sooner. It was all just another one of Robin and Nancy’s weird ways to set you and Eddie up.
Eddie on the other hand, was just plain clueless to the scheme and was honestly up for anything at that point. Anything to get over you. He had been pining for too long and instead of doing something about it, he decided that the best way to get over you was by getting under someone else.
What a stupid plan that was. All he could ever see was your face and it was driving him crazy. Maybe if you were the one he was under, he’d be able to get over it. Maybe that would have solved everything once and for all.
“I nominate y/n and Eddie to go into the closet,” Nancy smiled at the two of you. Both of your eyes widened at her words and once she realized that you weren’t standing, he pulled the two of you to your feet and pushed you both towards the closet.
You hesitantly went inside and Eddie followed, closing the door behind him. You quickly turned on the light and it illuminated the room, showcasing the beautiful man before you. His hair was pulled back and he had finally let his beard grow out like you had been begging him for once. Maybe if you had gotten the guts, you would have made a move and kissed him so you could feel his scruff against your face.
Eddie looked at you and couldn’t believe that you still weren’t his after all of the years he had spent pining for you. Why couldn’t he just stop being a baby and admit how he felt for you? Sure, being rejected would hurt like a fucking bitch, but at least you would have knowing the truth.
“We don’t have to do anything,” you assured him, playing with one of the loose threads on the end of your shirt sleeve.
“I know,” he nodded. “But…I’d like to…you know, if you wanted to.” He said the words so shyly that it was cute. He had never behaved that way in front of you before. He was always so confident, so sure of himself. It was weird seeing him like that.
“You would?” You didn’t think he had any interest in doing anything with you that the game entailed.
“I would,” he nodded enthusiastically and your heart melted.
“Oh.”
“Can I kiss you?” You swore your knees were going to go weak at hearing those words. You never ever thought he’d ask you that and weren’t even sure if you were awake. With your luck, you’d wake up to find that it was all just a surreal dream.
“Yes.” As soon as the words left your mouth, Eddie took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, his scruff scraping your skin just like you had imagined.
Your arms wrapping tightly around his waist as you took what you wanted from each other, the kiss rough and heated. His hands moved to your hair, pressing into your scalp as he licked into your mouth, your tongues swirling together.
As soon as a moan fell from your lips, he pulled away, not wanting it to get too heated. He pressed his forehead to yours and a huge smile breaking out on his face that you mimicked.
“God, I’ve been wanting to do that since I can remember,” he breathed and you grabbed on tighter to his waist so you wouldn’t collapse to the floor.
“Me too,” you replied, feeling like he deserved honestly since he was being so open with you.
“I love you.” Your mouth fell open at his admission and you peppered his face in kisses in response while he let out the most adorable giggles.
“I love you too,” you told him and he just smiled before capturing your lips in another kiss. Needless to say that the two of you definitely spent more than seven minutes in the closet. You had a lot of lost time to make up for.
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katyspersonal · 2 days
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Guys oh my gosh hgbghgg I am a GENIUS! I've finally figured an explanation for, at the first glance, unreasonable vitriol towards Godrick in the fandom! I should have became a psychology professor for this one but don't let me get ahead of myself ok so:
Like.. This can't be the fact that Godrick literally steals peoples limbs to attach to himself, right? Rykard does a similar thing - consumes people and makes them a part of his body, as all those arms sticking out of him are those of his victims. Also both of these characters appear hard to take seriously upon introduction; "i cOmAnD tHeE KNEEL" and "tOGETHAAAA" are equally silly xd But Rykard is really loved, right?
The difference between the two might happen because Rykard is that cool badass rebel against oppressive system, whereas Godrick willingly perpetuates it. But that can't be this piece, and this also can't be Tarnished-hunting. Because another character who simps for the Golden Order and is racist Tarnished-hunts is Morgott, who is also very loved. Adored, even!
I thought maybe Godrick hit the 'disrespecting women' nerve upon insulting Malenia, which is already a sore topic in the fandom? 🤔 But this is likely not true. Not only he himself is definitely not an incel, since Grafted Scions (his children) exist, but also it is all likely an insecurity. Godrick had that line where he called Malenia and Miquella "rank and malformed" when Godrick himself could be considered a disgrace ( 🥁 ) for the Golden Bloodline with his frail, weak build. He has large insecurities that he takes out on other discriminated people, so that certainly wasn't her gender. Again, many other loved characters also disrespect us for who we are, he isn't outstanding. Nor it is him being "pathetic" for escaping the battle he could not win in disguise or kissing Malenia's feet in apology: the 'pathetic old man' is ABSOLUTELY one of the favorite men types on Tumblr and Twitter! The girls (gender neutral) LOVE the 'pathetic old man', that vibe could not have provoked the hate.
Finally, it can't be the authors intention. Miyazaki confirmed Godrick to be a sympathetic character. So, you should feel bad for his situation of continuing the glory of that imposing bloodline that he is not fit for, and NPCs that dislike him are either within their own right to do so, or straight up hypocritical (like Kenneth). Subtexts, media literacy and so on can't be used as an arguement for why Godrick would be intended as repulsive character.
So... Yeah, it seems like there is no real reason for why Godrick should always be singled out, only brought up as a laughing stock, always brought in negative and mocking context in polls and headcanons compilation and bring his fans being seen as weirdos by an effect, right? Whatever reasoning might be the first responce is very easy to debunk! I think I've finally found an actual reasonable and sympathetic explanation as to why fandom dislikes and bullies him so much more than any other character that explains EVERYTHING! I am going to go under cut as this is the result of long, meticulous thinking and this post is already getting long, so here it is:
💫🌺 S K I L L!!! I S S U E!!! 💕🔥💫
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crisalidaseason · 3 days
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sooo, is it too unusual to ask something w dark armin? like his SO got hurt and he is livid and gets revenge, also everyone is a bit scared of his behavior
i'm so starved for dark protective armin fics
Sorry it took me ages to answer this!!!! Also, Interesting ask...I think I have an idea. Hope you enjoy it!
CW and tags: Slight out of character Armin, protecive Armin, a bit dark Armin, gender neutral reader, "who did this to you" trope, blank period between S3 and S4, canonverse, relationship status not clear, mentions of blood, violence.
A little rat.
Something people often called Armin due to his tendencies of sneaking around, creepily watching and listening, acting below the radar. The blond boy was never one to enjoy theatrics, attention, thus the nickname made sense. Armin enjoyed it even, being discreet within his action, he benefited from it.
---
The bruise on your left cheek was impossible to conceal and you accepted the countless questions your friends would ask. You were building a lie while your steps guided you to the mess hall - despite your disinterest for dinner. As your fingers brushed on the tender skin, images of the other soldier's bloody nose and mouth were enough to satisfy yourself.
You could defend yourself. Armin knew that.
But as soon as his beautiful blue eyes landed on the dark blemish his gaze went from tired to unreadable. He did not say anything - unlike the others, who kept asking 'what happened' 'who did this!' - he remained silent during dinner. You told your lie - physical combat training - but Armin did not react nor did he say a word, only his hardened eyes occasionally looking at the bruise.
His knuckles were white while gripping his cutlery.
You knew he would ask as soon as nobody was on sight. His steps were silent, but you could feel him behind you. Cold fingers touched your elbow softly, guiding you to a quiet corridor, under a staircase.
"Armin-"
"Who"
Armin made it impossible to lie. There was something about his blue eyes, soft and yet handsome features, that made your stomach revolt with the mere thought of lying to him.
"It doesn't matter-"
"It does" his jaw became even more defined as it clenched.
The blue eyes were still hard to read, but there was a stormy sea in them. You knew this look - a mind working full speed on hypothesis.
"Who did this?" his voice was soft and calm, monotonous. A happy and excited Armin almost sang when he spoke.
"He is way worse, Armin" you tried "I gave him what he deserved-"
"I. Want. A. Name." the sea was simmering, the point of boiling coming soon.
You gave him the name. You told him everything. Because there was nothing you could ever hide from Armin.
___
"You're quiet" Mikasa spoke "you usually don't shut up when you're researching"
The brunette girl was sitting on the chair next to his - running away from her brother's apathetic behavior. Hange's office was usually free for Armin to use, for him to read and debate strategies with the current commander.
"There is nothing to speak about" he said.
He saw Mikasa's head tilt to the side, she knew him too much.
"You're angry" she concluded "Eren said something to you again?"
Armin sighed in frustration. Denying with a mere head movement.
"You're not going to tell me, are you?" she said.
He wouldn't. She would stop him and do it herself. He could not loose the opportunity.
---
You were just released from the meeting with your squad when a desperate Sasha collided with you in the middle of the hall.
"I'm sorry, so sorry!" she was frantic.
You were beyond confused.
"What happened?" you asked her.
"Armin was arrested!"
You felt your blood pool around your feet, leaving nothing but cold limbs. Barely able to ask her to elaborate.
"I heard Hange had to give him a corrective punishment for assaulting a cadet"
You wanted to feel surprised, but you couldn't. Armin was capable of horrible things if it meant keeping his loved ones safe. Violence was never his first choice, but it was there...always.
___
Armin was a patient man. If he could avoid acting on emotion, he would. Waiting for the anger to stop bubbling left him rational enough to plan carefully.
The cadet in question was an ex-MP. Typical.
Taller than Armin, stronger built. Forgetful face and name, just another soldier amongst hundreds that enlisted after Wall Maria's expedition.
Armin watched him for days, weeks. His routine, his tasks, when he was alone or surrounded. He observed, always keeping his anger at bay. A thursday afternoon, nearing the end of the fifth hour, was the perfect time frame for Armin to act.
Armin was proud of his rational thinking, but all good plans had a hint of recklessness.
"You have one minute to explain why you hurt them"
Alone in the stables, the cadet turned to see no other than the bearer of the Colossal titan.
"Who the fuck you're talking about?"
"Forty seconds" Armin replied, stance completely relaxed.
The cadet chuckled.
"come on" the soldier said "they can throw a punch, I respect that, but you? I-"
"I asked why and you are going to answer why. Thirty seconds"
The soldier - not knowing Armin at all - should have noticed the way his limbs contracted and his eyes focused into him.
"They hit me first" the cadet complained "I was just joking, said some shit and they didn't like it apparently"
"And what did you say?"
___
"Was it because of me?" he pleaded, hands afraid of touching the bruised skin "please, tell me"
"It's not worth repeating what he said"
"I want to know!"
There were tears trying to escape his eyes, his fingers trembling with anger.
"They don't do this to Mikasa or Eren, but I know they say things to you"
"Armin..."
"Please"
___
The colossal was in all shapes and forms a demon in his body. A demon he hated more than anything.
But there were undeniable benefits of hosting such demon.
A cracking sound of another bone breaking. The cadet fell on the gate of a horse stall, struggling to breathe.
"Tell me" Armin's voice was on the verge of breaking into screaming, but he knew better.
"Repeat to me exactly what you told them and I'll consider letting you walk out of here alive"
The soldier coughed and groaned, trying to get up. Armin was faster, stomping his foot on the man's chest, right below his rib-cage, where he knew it would render the cadet breathless.
"Come on, tell me" Armin warned again
___
Your voice trembled as you repeated the words to an anxious and angry Armin.
"He called you a rat and..."
___
"...and they were the scum" the cadet struggled to repeat.
"And what else?"
The man took too long to answer, Armin's patience running thin.
"That...I could" the man coughed blood "could not wait for you to die"
___
"And then I hit him" you concluded "I shouldn't, but I was so furious that I could not let him walk out intact"
___
Armin kicked the man one more time below the ribs, for sure breaking another floating one.
"Next time you have a problem with my existence, talk to me" Armin said quietly "You can call me names, even hit me, but if you ever do anything remotely threatening towards them again...I will kill you"
He left the man on the stables, walking steadily to Hange's office. Consequences must be paid.
___
Besides you, Mikasa was the only one not panicking. The two of you were not close - she was extremely reserved - but there was mutual respect. She was the only one who did not bombard you with questions, already aware of what could have happened.
"Is he in the dungeons?" you asked her.
Mikasa nodded. Hange's office was full of the veterans of the 104th squad, yet you felt alone in that moment. Armin was being punished and it was your fault.
"Nothing is going to happen" Hange said, entering the office "he is far too important for an actual imprisonment, but I had to keep appearances"
"Did he say something?" Jean inquired "we all know Armin's not a saint, but sudden violence is very uncommon for him"
The commander's eyes asked the same question as they landed on you. They were trying to understand. You and Armin interacted discreetly in public, like acquaintances. Hange was trying to understand why someone like you would trigger such a violent unusual behavior from Armin Arlert.
"I was hoping you could explain" They said to you "your captain told me you had corrective punishment from assaulting the same guy about two weeks ago"
The others were silent, looking at you. Waiting for an answer while trying to connect the dots. The only one who did not wonder was her. Mikasa knew of Armin's affection towards you, that it was beyond a building frienship or quick burning passion.
___
Armin heard you first. Steps descending the long stairs of the dungeons. As your familiar frame appeared, he stood up and leaned on the bars of the cell. You did not look him in the eyes, staring at a point in front of you.
You were angry. He had no regrets.
"Was it necessary?" you whispered.
"Yes" he replied without hesitation "would do it again"
You looked at his profile, an elegant man even behind bars. His white shirt was stained and tucked out of his pants, yet he left you breathless. You could defend yourself, but there was something warming about him going to extremes for you. It might have suprised the the others, but not you.
You would hurt and kill for him either.
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demieyesore · 7 hours
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Sex and Feelings - Sam Monroe
Summary - Sam and you got into a heated argument that ended in tears and sex.
Warnings / Mentions - Fem!Reader, Insecure!Sam, mentions of drugs and other mental health issues, pet names used are baby, angel, and pretty girl/sweet girl, hurt comfort, small angst, makeup sex, sad sex, dacryphilia, both Sam and Reader are crying, oral (f receiving), Sam cums untouched, praise, Sam licks Reader's tears, creampie, squirting, NOT PROOF READ; SO PLEASE TELL ME IF THERE'S ANY MISTAKESSSS
A/N - I know I usually write GN!Reader, but I wanted to use certain affectionate terms like "pretty girl" and I haven't been able to think of a gender-neutral way yet...maybe just "pretty baby" or "pretty doll" Idk, send help fr...Also, does anyone have any idea how to avoid using Y/N in dialogue?
Requested - Yessir, right here
Word Count - 2197
Tag List - @vixxensvoid @maevesversion @sockiess @stylesslytherinskywalker @myheadhurtscutely
@yourenogoodforme @gallerygourmet @heartsforanakin @helendeath @ysrjune
@anisangeldust @catnipaddictt @ahano @itachicha @02ibiskywitt05
@espinathena-17 @lvrfay3
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Gif by @sukugo
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Tears flooded your eyes, and your senses went wild from the way your boyfriend was talking about himself and your relationship. Sam, your sweet yet devilish boyfriend, was pleading for you to break up with him.
"Sam, I just don't understand. I don't want to break up!" You tried over and over to reach out to him, but he only kept pulling away. His thoughts and mind are elsewhere. Sam had a hazy look in his eyes, one of fear and loneliness.
"Y/n, stop making this harder than it needs to be. I'm not good for you, and you fuckin' know it." Sam's exclamation caught you off guard. The aggressive use of language at the end makes you glow with anger. Your emotions are mixing in a pot, like ingredients. Some anger here, some fear there, some dread, and the final being your undying care for him.
"You can't possibly mean that! Sam, for the love of God, you are everything to me! I mean, yes, we all have our flaws, but I don't care!" Your voice echoed in the room. You had come over to his house in order to check in on him, wanting to hang out and watch a movie, only to see him getting high. Not the usual joint high, not pills, but he was in the middle of hanging himself in his closet when you walked into his room.
"Oh, fuck off; you don't mean that. You know just how bad I am for you; you just don't want to admit it. You never do!" He yelled at the end; you could tell he was starting to get emotional. As much as Sam loved you, he always struggled to believe that you actually liked him. It wasn't even fathomable for you to be in love with him.
It was like he was shutting down on you, but you didn't want to give him up. "Sammy, please...how do-- How do I fix this?" You took a deep breath, your nose sniffling from the stress on your mind and body. Sam was silently crying, his face contorting into one of pain. "You can't; you just can't! You can't do anything about it; you're not the one who needs fixing!" He seethes, pacing around his messy room as he tries to sort out his thoughts.
He's such a mess. He's wearing a band tee, one that he cut the sleeves off of to create a make shift tank top. A studded belt with a pair of black jeans. A leather bracelet cuff was on his right wrist, while the bracelet you made for him hung around his left. Sam was messing with the bracelet in an attempt to calm down.
"You don't need to be fixed; you're not an object. You need someone who can be there for you, Sam! You need to actually talk about your feelings instead of bottling them up, and trust me, I know how hard that can be!" You gestured towards him, knowing that your choice of words might have been harsh and ironic since he was the one begging for you to leave him.
Sam clocked the irony, ignoring the meaning behind what you said and just shouting in a choked-up voice. "I'm trying!" His anger got the better of him as he pulled at the bracelet you made him. It wasn't all that, but it was important to him and to you. The matching one adorns your own wrist. The cheap material is a piece of elastic string with cute beads. The bracelet held some cute little charms that fit his style, along with a heart and your name. Your bracelet has your own personal aesthetic, and it has his name.
As he angrily tugged at the jewelry, it snapped. He threw what little of the beads his hand caught in your direction. You flinched as some of them flew toward you. Pain prickled at your heart when the beads clattered to the floor. Sam realized what he had done in his small fit of rage. He knew that if he hadn't hurt you before, he had now.
His eyes soften with a flash of sincerity as he stays quiet. Neither of you dared to speak. The anger having died out entirely. Sam slowly walked towards you, both of you having tears running messily down your cheeks. Sam's eyeliner was smudged and tracking down in streaks.
As he neared, you didn't move. Allowing him to embrace you in a hug. His hands were around your waist as he pulled you into his chest. His forehead slumped towards the floor as he nuzzled himself into the crook of your neck. You could feel the wetness brushing on your shoulder from his own crying. Your arms came up and wrapped around him. You both didn't have the words—nothing that could truly say you were sorry.
"Baby," Sam started, cutting himself off as he put together his thoughts. He felt uneasy as he tried to think of a way to apologize. A way to get you to forgive him for his outburst. He knew it wasn't your fault he felt this way, and he knew that he was just self-sabotaging another relationship.
Sam's brain finally formed an idea—the only way he could think of to say he was so fuckin' sorry.
"Baby, let me make it up to you..." Sam finalized it, and the both of you are still crying from the distress of the situation. You tried to pull away so you could look at him and listen to him, but he didn't let you. Confusion rippled through you when his grip on you tightened, tilting your head to the side as a result of your puzzlement. Which just made Sam's job so much easier as he began placing soft kisses on your neck. His mouth trailed up your throat as he sucked at your soft skin. You hummed in satisfaction at his affectionate behavior. Both Sam and you had clouded minds still as he kissed up your jaw, making his way to your swollen lips. Already red and puffy, bitten raw from your sobbing.
Sam just loved seeing you like this; he hated to say it, but you were so pretty when you cried, and you often thought the same thing about him. The way his face would screw together in pain, his eyes watery, and his skin looking red was the most beautiful sight in the world. One of Sam's hands snaked up to your face, cradling you into his palm. He could feel your cheekbone pressed against him, his thumb wiping the liquid dampening under your eye.
The kiss grew more heated; Sam wanted more of you. He wanted all of you, and that was part of the problem in the first place. He felt like he was too selfish with you. Sam prodded at your lower lip with his tongue, and you eagerly let him in. Loving the intimate and passionate way he invaded your mouth. Always wanting to taste you, he'd devour you if he could.
Sam moaned into the kiss. You weren't quite vocal yet. Your emotions are still running rampant, keeping you in a non-verbal-like state. Sam could feel himself getting hard, his hand on your waist slipping down momentarily to massage himself through his jeans. Something that was difficult, but he needed some kind of feeling down there. He was only kissing you, and it was driving him crazy. Sam only ever wanted to please you. Be there for you, but he always felt like he was letting you down. He desperately wanted to save you from himself. He was terrified of taking you down with him. So instead, he would go down on you.
Sam pushed you towards the bed, backing you up until your legs hit the edge, forcing you to sit down. Sam broke the kiss as he unzipped his jeans, pulling them down and kicking them off as he grabbed you by your ankles. He folded you in on yourself, keeping you stable as he pulled off your shorts down your legs, tossing them off god knows where into his room. Once you both were free from your bottoms, Sam kneeled in front of you.
He pulled you closer to him, a yelp escaping your plump lips. Sam didn't bother taking off your panties, opting to just push them to the side with how impatient he was getting. Just as Sam's face got closer to your cunt, he stopped, glancing up at you. His voice was low with need as he asked, "Okay with this pretty girl?" You hummed in approval, words still lacking from your brain and mouth. Sam wouldn't push you to answer today with words; he's already aware of how you react when sensitive.
He dipped his head back to your cunt, his finger caught your panties and pulled them to the side. He watched in amusement and desire when he saw what he'd claimed multiple times. He could tell you were already wet but didn't care as he spat his saliva on your exposed pussy. His hand that wasn't occupied with your underwear came up, sinking a finger in between your folds as he swiped up along your slit. Making sure that you were coated well. He pulled his middle finger back, sucking it clean, before resting his hand on your thigh, keeping it in place.
His tongue finally came into contact with your pretty pussy, licking up and gently sucking on your clit. He pressed kisses on your cunt, as he lapped at you hungrily. His tongue poking at your entrance. He moaned into you as his tongue fucked your little hole. Your little whines falling from your mouth were music to his ears, fueling him to get more aggressive and fasten his pace. His lips were swiping across your cunt as he sucked and kissed you. "Prettiest pussy in the fuckin' world, sweet girl."
Sam was shifting uncomfortably from his boner, trying to ignore it as he ate you out. Your little whines and whimpers turned into moans and shrieks of pleasure as he feasted on you. Acting as if he hadn't eaten for a week. He was plunging into you as if you were the air he needed. The knot in your stomach was unraveling, and he could feel it as your cunt fluttered around his tongue. He kept up with what he was doing, giving you exactly what you needed. The cord in your core broke as the most pornographic moan ripped from you, your legs shaking and clamping down around his head as he ate you out through your orgasm.
Sam whimpered at your reaction, getting off on the fact that he knew you were satisfied with him. "Shit- oh fuck!" Sam whined into your pussy, the vibrations overwhelming you as he came. His boxers were stained with the sticky fluid.
Sam finally moved out of your thighs, standing up and flipping you onto your stomach. He easily lifted your ass into the air, propping you up on your knees while your chest pressed into his sheets. He wasted no time as he freed himself from his briefs. Lining up with your sopping wet cunt as he pushed in. Sam threw his head back, a couple more of his tears sliding down his face and dripping onto the floor. He whined as you gasped into his pillows, not entirely letting you adjust to his size as he started moving. He wasn't being rough, but he was being fast. Your tears soaked into his bed, your mouth opening in pleasure as he fucked into you. Sam rammed into you, slapping noises heard throughout the room. "So good, angel, takin' me so well. This pussy was made for me, fuckkkk..." He drawled out.
Sam leaned to your back, enveloping your throat with his hand as he pulled you to him. His hips not slowing, but definitely hitting deeper than before. "My beautiful girl, only one meant for me. Always know just what I need." He whimpered into your ear; the airflow you were getting was slightly chopped off from his hand. The feeling was like ecstasy as he pounded into you. His praises drove you to the edge again. Sam licked your cheek, collecting the drying tears on his tongue. The flavor was salty, but he enjoyed it. His thrusts are growing sloppy from the overstimulating orgasm building. He made sure to hold off, wanting to keep your own white-hot pleasure going for as long as he could. Your pussy leaking as he pulled out. Juices spraying on his cock as he ran his tip throughout your folds, playing with the stream you were squirting. "Even your pussy is crying for me." Sam laughed through his emotion-filled voice. Once you stopped, he pushed back in, giving a couple more thrusts into you before stilling. Sam held onto you tightly as he came, thick ropes spurting into you.
"I'm taking back my demand; you can't break up with me now." Sam jokes as you both start coming down from your highs, wiping away the water weeping from his eyes. 
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stardustmuseum · 8 months
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i’m such a “🥹” girl. sorry not sorry i feel everything so deeply
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foralltheshaniacs · 11 months
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anyway if you need me july 7 no you don’t <3
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ghostdrinkssoup · 2 years
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my favourite genre of character is little guy. doesn’t matter if they’re good or evil, and they don’t need to be literally small, they just have to radiate little guy energy. characters I can stuff into my pockets and shake around like a jar of marbles
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clueless1995 · 7 months
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self care has been so twisted into serving capitalism and the patriarchy it makes me sick actually
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that-wildwolf · 6 months
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girls will be like "i'm so gay" as if they don't constanty post about commander shepard and jolyne cujoh all the time anyway. it's me i'm girls.
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gideongrovel · 4 months
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The dog motifs in my OP s/i completely different ends of the spectrum zjsjsksksks
With E/nel, my insert is just a dumb loyal lap dog, following around a man who believes himself god, doing anything and everything to have his praise and being in his favor, and despite this situation, it still stays by his side regardless of it all,,, like idk makes me feral in a way im not really articulating well, but like being "god's" most favorite and loyal doggy just feels so snsjsjsjsmakak Like someone with a god complex like his- Oooh he would love someone so dearly with lapdog personality like mine 🥰🥰🥰 like I know i made that lil jokey 3 panel comic about it,,,,, but fr fr there is some deeper meaning to "dog" and "god" being the same spelled backwards 👁️👁️
Okay!! moving on!! With B/rook, it's just complete puppy love, super excited and happy to be around him, very playful and clingy, emotional support animal in a way- I don't want B/rook to ever feel lonely again,,, Like the timeskip was fucking hell for Gideon- it was more worried about B/rook's feelings about being away from the crew, then its own feelings (mans was fine tho youre stress over nothing 😭),,, But like of course it would be a happy pup being with B/rook mans is bones! Dogs love bones!! Hello?! Perfect match!! Gideon prefers only bitting for playfulness and affection knowing not too bite too hard- just in a loving comforting way 🥰🥰🥰 Also I like to think Gideon's playful energy makes B/rook feel young again
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dateamonster · 2 years
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where are they now? former supernatural fan edition
dean girls: transmascs who cant read full length books but spend multiple hours a night binging fanfics in the "found family" tag. most likely to retain a begrudging fondness for the series even years after leaving the fandom and may even still maintain an interest in similar media.
sam girls: lesbians/bi girls who cut their own hair and are into those poorly written episodic choose your own adventure style games. most likely to have deleted their dedicated spn blog years ago in a fit of Cringe shame. probably into something only moderately less cringey now.
cas girls: the mysterious third category of supernatural girly. since leaving the fandom has graduated to full on monsterfuckery. most likely to Want to delete their social media in favor of fantasies of living in the woods apart from society, but will inevitably fail due to their insatiable addiction to weird gay art and twitter discourse about problematic ya authors.
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marcsnuffy · 10 months
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No words I just love these panels with a passion
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