I don’t like it how some people in this fandom criticize characters like Cullen for having bad viewpoints due to a traumatic event when he was younger and more ignorant, while they themselves stay completely ignorant to how much he grew and how different his views are in DA:I, not to mention that they most often praise characters with their own bad past = bad decisions/views arcs like Solas, Anders, Fenris, etc., some of which don’t even end up changing their minds.
I personally like and try to understand all of them as much as I can and it confuses me how some people can blatantly loathe one of them like they made some serious personal offense against them and plain out bully those who disagree while excusing the actions and previous/current opinions of other similar characters.
Things aren’t black or white, not in the entire DA lore, not for any of them and extreme hatred towards those characters who feel very much burdened by their past views and at least try to change their ways, as well as towards the part of them fandom that likes them in any way is just unfair and cruel.
Robert Sugden thinks so little of himself. He thinks he deserves to be hit by his husband, kicked out by his mother-in-law, told he is horrible and disturbed, told he can never change, and the only thing that matters to him right now is helping his husband, not helping himself. Someone give him a hug and tell him he is worth everything, and let this man sort himself out.
Elucien Musician AU: See now this one is right up my street. Because Lucien was born to be musical tbh. Okay, okay I can’t remember if I’ve posted about this before (I don’t remember) but @pterodactylichexameter and I turned this vague idea into a whole Thing a little while back. I will now share the vague idea with you. (This also kind of fits the elucien/modern AU ask I got too)
The three Archeron sisters are all involved in their local ballet production. Feyre does most of the set design and creation. Nesta and Elain are both dancers but Nesta is the only one of the two who is naturally suited to it. Elain tries, she really does, but there’s just something about Nesta that was made for this in a way that she wasn’t. But that doesn’t matter. She loves it a lot and she enjoys herself.
Lucien is an assistant, he mostly helps Feyre out backstage and just sort of generally floats around doing odd jobs here and there. However he spends a lot of time crushing on the very pretty dancer who almost always seems to have some kind of flowers included in her costume (Azriel is their costume expert and he always makes sure there’s a little personal touch in all the dancer’s costumes. Nesta has fire but Elain always has some kind of flower) Or insisting that he definitely does not have a crush on the very pretty dancer with flowers on her costume (he is fooling no-one. (except Elain who is too sweet/oblivious and this all goes entirely over her head (or at least she pretends it does anyway, she doesn’t want to embarrass Lucien)))
The real reason Lucien puts up with coming to all of the rehearsals even when there isn’t really that much for him to do except babysit Tamlin and make Feyre the odd cup of tea while she paints is discovered by Elain a few weeks into rehearsals. She, Nesta and Feyre have wandered all the way along to the bus stop before Elain realises that she’s forgotten her phone and her purse. Insisting that her sisters just get the bus and not walk all the way back to the theatre with her in the pouring rain, Elain runs back on her own.
Grateful for the shelter of the theatre she hurries around backstage before she finds what she’s looking for and is about to head off before she hears soft, familiar bars of one of her favourite pieces in the production being played. Curious, she follows the music and peeks out onto the stage, wondering why the aged old piano player who’s been doing this for years and knows every piece back to front, is bothering to stay so late.
She gets a shock then when she recognises the long red hair and pale, delicate, long fingered hands of Lucien moving over the piano tucked onto a corner of the stage instead. Transfixed she watches him, completely forgetting about going home, lost in the flowing lines of his body as he moves with the familiar rhythm of the piece, how his hands fly deftly across the keys, how beautiful he looks, how happy, an expression she knows she’s never truly seen on his face until now.
His eyes are closed, his back to her, so lost in the music that he hasn’t noticed he’s being watched by a doe-eyed young dancer who can’t take her eyes off of him. That is until Elain fumbles her phone trying to put it into her bag without looking away from Lucien and drops it on the floor instead with a very loud clatter. Lucien jumps like a cat that’s just been given a bad electric shock and Elain turns bright red and they both start babbling and apologising at the same time.
Lucien jumps away from the piano as though he’s only just remembered he’s violently allergic to it, now flushing a deeper crimson than his hair and muttering to her, asking her to please not tell anyone about this. Elain tentatively walks towards him and tells him slowly, hesitantly that she, she won’t, she won’t tell a soul…But only if he finishes that piece. Lucien blinks at her in surprise, raising an eyebrow and regaining a little of his composure now the shock has worn off a bit. Elain blushes again and tells him that it’s her favourite. Lucien hesitates and rubs the back of his neck saying that he doesn’t usually play in front of people, that’s one of the reasons he comes here and waits til everyone is gone and…But Elain is smiling at him so broadly and looking so eager and enthusiastic that he just…can’t say no to her. He pats the bench beside him and she happily hurries over and sits down beside him and watches him as he plays through the entire piece for her.
They’re very close and everything feels very warm and they’ve liked each other for so long and Elain is murmuring that that was so beautiful and she had no idea he could play like that. Lucien flushes again (there’s a lot of that going round) and mumbles that he usually keeps it quiet. He can’t practice anywhere else and no-one seems to mind him playing this one after rehearsals. Elain smirks and asks him if that means no-one’s noticed and Lucien grins a little bit and agrees that she’s quite right. Elain squeezes his hand and promises faithfully that she won’t share his secret with anyone else. Kissing happens this night.
After that Elain starts making a lot of excuses to stay behind at the theatre and listen to Lucien play. Initially he’s still a little uncomfortable and can only properly lose himself in it if she makes sure and hides backstage. But he gets more comfortable around her and he plays for her while she practices her dancing sometimes and other times he just plays for the look on her face when she listens to him, the way she smiles for him. It’s all very fluffy and sweet and precious and piano playing!Lucien is deeply Important to me. Now you all know.
((also yes, they definitely bang on the piano at least once))
Warnings: Mentions of cheating, breakups, some angst, self loathing, swearing, Bucky being cute af
Word Count: 2420 (Sorry not sorry)
Requests: Hey can you do a Bucky x Reader where it’s the readers birthday and Bucky and her both like each other but to scared to say anything but everyone else knows and they throw her a surprise birthday party and they get together in the end. You can add more details too
Can I request something for my birthday on the 20th? Anything with Bucky, go wild.
Summary: Bucky makes sure you have the best birthday ever after your boyfriend breaks up with you.
A/N: Happy Birthday @superpaperclip I hope you have a really good day, And I hope you like this xx
The night had been a complete and utter disaster. And that was putting it lightly. You were sure that there had never been another time in your life that you were both humiliated and angry beyond words simultaneously and you hoped it would never happen again. What was supposed to be a lovely night out at dinner to celebrate your birthday tomorrow had turned into what you could only describe as the biggest fight you and your boyfriend had ever had to date.
He had been on edge the whole day, barely speaking more than a few words to you, and while you’d simply put it down to him being tired from the long hours he’d been doing at work it came out in the middle of the restaurant that he’d been cheating on you. For months. He’d tried the guilt card straight afterwards, telling you how sorry he was and that it had just been a slip in his judgement, but when you’d not forgiven him on the spot it quickly became your fault.
He’d left you sitting there, shell shocked as he stormed away from the dinner table.
You felt nauseous, your heart weighed as you walked back towards the tower, ignoring the looks from passersby’s as you sniffled back your tears. Your mind had been a constant whirl of thoughts since, you’d wondered whether it was truly your fault, whether you’d been a good enough girlfriend and whether or not being an Avenger had any blame to the whole thing. It was true that you weren’t always here, missions called you away at the most inconvenient times ever and you knew he’d always disliked the fact that you spent so much of your time around other men. But you’d honestly thought that he loved you.
By the end of the tirade of self blame though you had no more closure than what you’d started with and it was only making you feel worse about the situation. All you wanted right now was to crawl into your bed and forget that the day you’d been looking forward to for weeks was only three hours away. Happy birthday to you.
Walking into the tower you hoped that you wouldn’t run into anyone on the way up to your room. You’d caught sight of your reflection outside the building and you knew that the puffy eyes and black streaks on your cheeks would raise questions you didn’t think you had the emotional capacity to answer right now. Of course though, fate was not on your side.
The smile that had been on Bucky’s face the minute he saw you slipped right off as he got closer, your resolve breaking down completely when he took the few steps between you and wrapped you into his arms. Fisting the fabric of his t-shirt you sobbed against his chest as he rubbed his hand along your back, trying to soothe you softly. When your tears finally subsided he pulled back, brushing his thumbs over your cheeks before placing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Sorry,” You mumbled. “What are you sorry for Doll?” “That,” You gestured to the wet stains on his chest as you huffed out a shaky breath. Bucky shrugged, giving you a lopsided grin. “Needed washing anyway.”
phone vibrating across your nightstand pulled you from a restless sleep. Truth
be told, you hadn’t slept soundly since you’d been back except for the night
you’d fallen asleep in Dean’s arms. You’d been plagued by dreams of all the
hunts you’d been on, the woman you’d killed, the spirits of those little kids,
Magda, and her horrible mother. You reached your hand out into the darkness and
fished around for your phone, finally finding it and pulling it back to your
to wake you, Y/N, but this is important.” Cas answered hastily. “I may have
found a lead on the pieces of your soul.” You sat up, resting your back against
the headboard and pulling your knees up to your chest.
You breathed. “Spill. What’d you find?”
hesitant to tell you over the phone, Y/N, I’m sorry, but someone could be
listening.” Cas explained. “What I can tell you is we may need to talk to your
he’s…he’s dead how are you gonna -“
can make it happen.” Cas cut you off before you could finish. Whatever he found
out wasn’t good news and it was making you nervous. “I’ll be at the bunker
Cas’ phone call you tried in vain to go back to sleep, tossing and turning,
before you finally gave up. You changed your clothes and went to the kitchen,
pouring yourself a tumbler of whiskey and making your way to the library,
sitting in one of the chairs and thinking about what the angel had said.
(or in other words I gave up and wrote some langst. there’s some self-loathing, but nothing really worse than that, a bit of internalized biphobia)
It wasn’t as if he was unhappy. Not really. Sure, If he thinks of the blue expanse of ocean and its stinging salt air upon his face, his chest might tighten, air being drained from the lungs. But, every one was feeling homesick, right? And that lack of air that made his eyes water when the darkness in the castle was just too oppressive was a bummer, sure, but it didn’t define him. No, he wasn’t unhappy. Hunk was there, always there, and despite the fact he suspected Pidge didn’t really have many feelings, they were there too. The three idiot students from Earth who were in way over their heads, right?
(something in the back of his mind would remind him it’s only Lance who’s out of his element.)
I mean, sure, he misses home. He misses his family with their unrelenting enthusiasm that was always infectious - but hey, he was saving the universe, and that was pretty cool. Well, more than cool.
(When it wasn’t the most terrifying thing in existence, a part of him responded.)
Like, who else got to pilot a giant robot lion that turns into a bigger robot? I mean, that’s sci-fi shit, right? It was what his childhood dreams were made of - flying through stars, defeating bad guys, and all that other jazz. Right? He wasn’t unhappy. I mean, sure, it was a little intense. Sure, it was a lot intense. But in all his boyhood dreaming, he’s still seen things he never actually dreamed of - I mean, space mermaids. Fucking space mermaids. He’d almost laugh out loud if he really thought about it.
(best not Lance, he reminded himself; if you think then it becomes real.)
So, no, he’s not unhappy. He’s not like The Mullet, brooding and angsting around like he was a member of My Chemical Romance.
(don’t think about Keith.)
And yeah, Keith has reasons to be as miserable as he seemed, with the whole ‘part alien’ thing, and no family, and the whole ‘loner badass’ shtick, plus, it’s not like he isn’t cute when he’s brooding, because he is, and –
He remembers Keith’s smiling face and his heart ached, because as cute as Keith’s serious face, it could never compare to when Lance could actually make him laugh, and –
it wasn’t like Keith liked him anyway. He was nothing comparatively. But that’s okay. Lance knows, really, he does. He knows how frustrating he can be, with his jokes and his flirtations, and his lack of talent, but… still. Blue chose him and it’s not like just anyone could pilot that particular lion, though if he thought about really hard the others probably could, they’re such great pilots hell even Hunk is a better pilot and he gets (got) spacesick like wow Lance what are you even doing here, how the hell do you think you could ever be like Shiro, have you seen yourself everyone pities you how the hell do you think Keith could ever like you back he probably doesn’t even like boys, because you know, he’s not a freak who can’t make up his mind what are you doing Lance what are you doing here, and why are you complaining about it I mean the others have real problems for fucks sake and you’re whining because he doesn’t like you back don’t you see how pathetic that is - Pidge lost her family, Shiro lost his friend, his arm, his old life, Allura and Coran lost their entire species and you can’t deal with homesickness and I mean you could get away with it if you had a thing but you don’t you don’t have one single thing going for you you know what they would be better off with a different pilot and you know that but–
“Are… are you okay?” The voice was the familiar stuttering of his emotionally stunted crush and Lance looked up, releasing his fists and looking in shock and the small red lines his nails left behind. “Uh…?” Lance shook his head remembering that he hadn’t yet given an answer.
“Oh, uh…yeah, dude, just thinking about this babe I met on mission, man, she was into me…” Keith scoffed, somewhat unconvinced but not willing to hear more.
“Sure. Whatever. Anyway, Shiro needs to talk to us.” Lance’s face fell as he realised Keith in no way volunteered to talk to him. “So… uh…I’ll just go.” Lance nodded shortly, flashing a smile.
“Catch you up, Mullet-head.” Keith glared at him as he turned to go. Lance balled his hands into fists again, and got up, eyes silently stinging.
i’m honestly so sick of people trying to defend makeup. i wear loads of it every day and i hate it. it’s taken over parts of my life.
since the seventh grade, i have only gone to school without makeup ONCE. i’m about to graduate high school.
in the span of almost 5 years, i have never gone to school without makeup, except for one day when my therapist made me. 5 YEARS. i refuse to go without it. the one day i did it (a month ago) i cried. i kept my head down the whole day. i felt like i was showing the world i was lying to them.
i won’t go to family events without makeup. i won’t pick up food without makeup on. most of the time, i won’t even go to fucking walgreens without makeup on.
i have been taught by society that my natural face is not good enough. at first makeup was fun and cute and girly and now it’s a prison. it’s a mask i wear that makes me hate myself.
i don’t want people at school to see the real, ugly me. i don’t want my relatives to see that their pretty niece or granddaughter or cousin is actually ugly. i don’t want people to look at me and see my ugly. i feel like i’m lying to everyone.
i feel like such an inadequate girl and the least i could do is doll up my face. people tell me that i look fine as i do normally and i do think that i probably don’t look bad but… i will still feel like i’m ugly.
it’s great that liberal feminism helped me push down some of that self loathing!! at least i was smashing the patriarchy with my eyeliner! i’m sure guys were soooo intimidated by my makeup and they totally wanted to respect me more! it’s not like other old men were profiting off the self loathing i felt for myself!
i’m still trying every day to break free from these feelings but it’s so hard. so if you’re trying to shame me for speaking out against the beauty industry, i have two words for you - FUCK YOU.
The media, specifically news coverage, shows us and keeps us informed on what is happening in the world. There are many types of news: newspapers, magazines, TV channels… but at what point does news coverage actually become entertainment? And how do news channels MARKET their news for the consumer? It’s time to re-think what we’ve always seen.
sat at your bedside long after all the tests had been done, running his thumb
over your knuckles. He’d sent Jared home after a lengthy argument that he’d be
fine to wait alone, that he should go get some rest and be with Gen and the
kids. They’d loaded you up with so much medication there was really no way to
tell when you’d fully wake up anyway. He promised to call if anything changed.
was half asleep when your free hand shot up to your face, clawing at the oxygen
mask to try and get it off. “Shh, Y/N, stop.” Jensen grabbed your hand and
lowered it back down, waiting for your eyes to stop wildly searching the room
and focus on him. “It’s ok, you’re alright. You gotta keep that on, though. At
least for now.” You fought against him, determined to get the mask off your
face. It felt oppressive and claustrophobic and you had no idea you were even
in a hospital or why he was forcing you to wear it but you wanted it off and
you wanted it off now. “Sweetheart, calm down. I need you to calm down. Stop fighting
and I’ll explain everything and then I’ll get a nurse and see if we can get the
mask off, ok?”
finally stopped struggling, relaxing against the bed and taking in your
surroundings. “Why am I in a hospital?” You finally asked and Jensen smiled at
the sound of your voice. He was starting to think you weren’t able to speak.
said you probably had a mini stroke.” Jensen answered. “They ran a bunch of
tests and I told ‘em about how sick you were when we met. There’s no really
easy way to tell you this…”
I love the pairing of Robron. Pairing Aaron Dingle, an emotionally stunted mechanic with a penchant for theft and stuffing people in boots whilst looking surly (but also looking bloody gorgeous, lbr) with Robert Sugden, the affection starved arrogant trashmouth, who has some serious self-loathing issues and internalised homophobia, and is used to being told he is useless and therefore believes that he is, is fucking genius.
They both became so soft together?! I mean, Aaron Dingle was willing to stand in front of his family and have a first dance and a kiss? WHO ARE YOU!! Robert Sugden, usually ‘suave’ high flying business man, has moved into a small room above a pub, is taking care of his husband’s sister, is declaring his love for a man to any and all who want to hear it? WHAT IS THIS GLORIOUS SHIP?!?!
These two idiots are so in love that they have completely broken down without each other. They are so dependent upon one another that they cannot function without the other, and with their communication issues, this has only gotten worse, but WHAT IS LIFE EVEN WHEN THESE TWO GLORIOUS IDIOTS ARE SO IN LOVE AND I can’t even.
okay but like I just want a fight scene with simon and alec working/fighting together with lots of snark, but at the end of it there’s a moment of genuine trust and appreciation, followed by more sarcasm
Fair warning - this is kinda long? At least for me? ^^ If you’d like some background music - I’ve been listening to this while writing this… thing ^^
The Great Lake is calm today. There’s only a gentle breeze. It caresses Draco’s face softly as he watches the clouds on the horizon. They’re dipped in pink and gold from the evening sun, which has already vanished behind the mountains. Draco can already feel the melancholy rise from the pit of his stomach. He clutches his knees tighter to his chest as his eyes search the sky. When he finds what he’s looking for, he just stares.
Every night I disappear
to tend my ailing heart.
Every morning I return
with dirt and blood
caked all over
my hands and face.
Some dread me
and some loathe me.
They believe the trauma
of losing the one I adored
turned me into a necrophiliac.
Being a nobleman
I hold power
over others but
while I’m out at night
in the caves hiding
amongst the wild,
I relive a time
when I was powerless
and petrified but with
the one who was
all that mattered.
While we were on the run
we lived by snarling
We ate them raw
‘cause we couldn’t risk
a fire being seen.
If they eluded us
we’d fill our bellies with
grass and dirt
to stave off the pain
Facing such a questionable fate
‘cause we weren’t lovers
of the traditional kind.
Our love unapproved
by the society.
An emotion so pure,
but no more than a sin
in the eyes of holy men.
Yet we survived.
Drawing strength from
the love in our lover’s eyes.
Until they caught up on us,
roasted him to death
and spared me
to watch the show
as I was a highborn lord
and he a mere help.
And while those trying to
impose their ethics
by the means of brutality
on all those having
I’m called a monster,
for I relive my survival.
It brings me solace,
it’s the only thing that does.
I’m actually a bit disappointed in Yang’s recovery, but maybe I was just mislead by the intro. I had expected we’d see a lot more of her struggle, PTSD and self doubt/self loathing. Some people in the fandom said the way it is in canon is more in-character for her, but I’m not sure if I agree with them.