Many People Are Claiming "Just Way For Blood And Cheese, Justice Will Be Served" That's Nasty,what Justice?

sansa’s ableism on the night of her wedding, which she did not consent to, where she was molested and almost sexually assaulted by a grown man who happened to be disabled, is apparently more insidious than ableism exhibited by jon, robb, bronn, jaime, etc. based on the number of essays written about it meant to condemn sansa

if anyone else was wondering like i was, the reason people sometimes talk to wilhelm like “the crown prince will come with us” “the crown prince can do x” it’s bc it’s technically impolite to directly address royals when talking to them so you’re just supposed to use third person like that

au where Steve is a famous Disney kid and Eddie is a teenaged singer-songwriter. They get pushed together at events because they're close in age, but they just quietly dislike each other.

Steve's got a new show starting, a spinoff of the one that made him a household name. They hire a newcomer, Robin Buckley, to play his best friend and the two quickly become BFF in real life.

The show runs for two seasons but when it comes time to renegotiate contracts, neither star is interested. They're older now, ready to live life on their terms and not the company's, or in Steve's case, his parents.

As soon as the finale airs, Robin and Steve celebrate by going to a gay club. A few weeks later, an interview is released where Steve comes out as bi and talks about how his parents mistreated him; how they worked with the network to pressure him to be a perfect "all-American" kid even off screen.

Meanwhile, Eddie's an impossible level of famous. He's had number-one hits, won a Grammy, headlined an arena tour, achieved every dream he had for himself as a kid growing up in a trailer park in Indiana. He's not shocked by the news that Steve is leaving Hollywood, but he's flabbergasted that the guy isn't straight. When Eddie reads the interview, he gets this weird pang in his chest, almost like regret. But he never even liked Steve.

Steve isn't in the news again and Eddie doesn't think of him for a long time.

Steve goes to college. He loves it. Not because he's great in his classes, or anything, but because he's free to be himself for the first time. He makes friends and goes to parties and relaxes. He and Robin share an apartment.

After a few semesters, Steve decides to take a couple of theater classes, and is quickly cast in campus productions. In the vague anonymity of college theater he rediscovers his love of acting. No one has expectations of him, no one forces him to perform. He graduates and slowly starts appearing in small roles in Indie films, gathering critical acclaim. He feels good. Happy. Hopeful.

Eddie is blissfully unaware of Steve's career resurgence, experiencing his own musical highpoints, until the day where he's scrolling Twitter, sees a Variety headline that's getting a bunch of attention, "Steve Harrington in talks to star in Max Mayfield's first film." Eddie's livid.

"Maxine, what the fuck?" He growls when she answers his call.

They grew up together in the same Indiana trailer park. When she moved to Hollywood to start a career as a screenwriter, Eddie was by her side. And when her first script wound up on the Black List, his involvement on the soundtrack and original songs sealed her production deal.

She gives a long suffering sigh. "Munson," she grumbles. "I know you have a weird history with this guy, but I swear he's the right choice."

"He's a stuck up rich boy who's never been in trouble in his life."

"He's changed."

"Doubtful," Eddie sneers.

"Look. I'll set-up a meeting. Come hang out and you'll see what I mean." Before she hangs up she adds, "Call me Maxine again and I'll end you."

They invite Harrington to Eddie's recording studio. His hopes are not high for this meeting, so he's already a little thrown when Steve Harrington walks in, all grown up. He's in a crimson sweater, tight jeans, hair grown long so that it flops around his face in tousled waves that actually look genuine, windswept and golden. Eddie's eyes instinctively trace the scatter of moles on Harrington's face and neck, a pang of something hitting deep in his gut. Fuck, this dude is beautiful.

"Harrington," he greets, sticks out his hand. Eddie barely hears the answering, "Munson," because instead of a handshake, Harrington pulls Eddie in for a hug. Muscles bunch under the sleeves of the sweater, against Eddie's chest, and he's assaulted by the scent of cedar and sunshine and Steve. Eddie's not prepared for any of this.

They make small talk, Harrington sharing about going to college, falling in love with theater, Robin Buckley who he calls his soulmate. Eddie's head rings with how wrong he was about this guy; the pretty kid he grew up alongside who seemed to have the world in his hands. Max was right, he's perfect. Except.

"Let's get down to it, Harrington," Eddie says. Can't bring himself to call him Steve yet, feels that will somehow change everything and he's not ready. "I'll admit that Mayfield had the right idea about you, but can you sing? Play guitar? You have to perform my music, dude. That's not a small ask."

Harrington smirks, asks for a guitar. He gets it settled across his lap before he speaks. "I started taking piano lessons when I was 4. Voice and guitar at 7."

Eddie belatedly recalls that Harrington's parents were the worst kind of stage-parents, pushing their cute kid to perform even as he sobbed about wanting to play soccer with his friends instead of going to auditions. He has a moment of shame that he forgets as the other man begins to play. It's one of Eddie's biggest hits, a ballad about a teenaged broken heart from a kid whose name he can't even remember.

Harrington's hair flops in a swoop over his forehead, his fingers move across the strings with ease, skill. His voice is a rasp, close mimic to Eddie's own, but not quite deep enough. Goosebumps spread across Eddie's arms, his neck, and warmth pools low in his gut.

Steve finishes the song, looks up, cheeks glowing pink, honey eyes bright. Eddie's fucking gone for this guy. He wants so badly he might choke on it.

"Good?" Steve asks.

Eddie's embarrassed suddenly. Unsure. He tugs at his hair. "Yeah," he laughs. "Good."

He reaches out to take the guitar, the one Steve's already handing to him, and their hands brush. Eddie flushes. Their eyes meet and Steve smiles. Eddie's thoughts are consumed with the desire to kiss his plush pink mouth.

"You wanna get dinner? Just you and me?" Steve asks.

"Yeah, Steve," he laughs. "I'd love to."

🎬🎸🎬🎸

Fifteen Months Later

"Former Teen Heartthrobs Make Love Connection?"

Fans of musician Eddie Munson and former child star, Steve Harrington, were in for the surprise of their lives last night as the men arrived together for the premier of Harrington's new movie, Small Town Sins, written by up-and-coming screenwriter Max Mayfield, featuring original music by Munson. While Harrington's performance and the movie itself are garnering quite a bit of positive buzz, it's being overshadowed by gossip about Harrington and Munson's budding romance. They walked the red carpet together, pausing for photos as a duo, holding hands and flirting. When asked for confirmation of their relationship, Munson answered, 'we're bros,' before winking and pulling Harrington close.

There's a TikTok video embedded below the article, showing the men being interviewed on the red carpet. Their arms are loosely around each others' waists, and when their eyes meet they catch and hang for a beat.

"So, longtime fans of both of yours are going feral online right now because of the rumors that you two used to hate each other. Is there any truth to that?" An off-camera voice asks.

The men laugh. "We've always been great friends," Eddie answers.

"Eddie thought I was stuck up," Steve giggles.

"I did not." Eddie slaps at Steve, who gives him an affectionate smile.

"Liar," Steve answers.

Eddie leans into the camera like he's telling a secret. "Harrington here was afraid of me."

"Fuck off, I was not." They wrestle around for a couple of seconds.

Steve shrugs Eddie off, straightening his suit jacket. "Okay, maybe I was a little intimidated back then, but then this morning you found a pretty rock and cried about it."

Eddie shrieks, swatting at Steve until someone in a black suit and name tag shoos them down the red carpet.

Eddie walks off first, so he misses Steve withdrawing a hand from his pocket and saying, "Still have the rock, though." He flashes the red, grey, blue striped stone at the camera.

His gaze drifts away, landing somewhere in the distance, hazel eyes soft and heart-wrenchingly fond.

Finnish menstrual product campaign to raise trans awareness.

Vuokkoset and Dakota Robin on Instagram.

Besties. We know Bruce's adoption streak could outshine the sun, but have we considered:

Bruce is adopted, too, and he just. Forgot to tell his kids.

It all started with Damian hiding in the attic. He's an expert fighter, yes; An expert fighter who does not want to face Cass after eating the last muffin. Gracious as she is, Cassandra had her lines.

And he had to occupy his time with something. So there he is, flipping through photo albums covered in sheets of dust that leave him frowning. Alfred is careful and strict about cleaning.

The only reason why he wouldn't polished these, he weights, is because he couldn't find them. But why would anyone hide these?

He flips through pages and pages of his grandmother, glamours and sparkling and haughty, playing around with Baba; Chocholate pudding around their mouths at Galas. Playing dress up in her closet. A younger version of his Baba chewing on a pearl necklace.

There's pictures of his grandfather, too, except, -

Except. He's evidently not nearly as pale as his wife and child.

Damian blinks. Rubs his eyes. Maybe there's a mistake? Maybe this man with a sunbeam smile and warm eyes carrying Martha over his shoulder and Baba under his arm isn't Thomas.

But no; He watches the cursive, neat writing lovingly put down below the polaroid shot, - Tommy, Martha, and Bruce, 1998. Thomas dropped Bruce after Below it, another harsh scribble responds,

Gonna drop YOU next time, Cabron - T. Wayne

Note for future self; Don't let Thomas hold Bruce. - M. Wayne

He had to run down the stairs.

"GRANDFATHER WAS NOT CAUCASIAN. "

Bruce, lifting his gaze from the game of Batnopoly (Tim thought It'd be so funny), blinks at him, " He was Colombian, if you want to get technical."

" But you don't... Baba, you're, so, uh...Flavour-proof."

" Oh, he wasn't my biological father. He adopted me after he and mama got married." Everyone roasts Dick so hard because how the hell did HE not know?

" You always whine about " Oh I'm the only one who's not adopted!" That's cause you pull shit like this you clown bus"

" Parents aren't real people you seek information about, everyone knows that, JASON!"

The batkids soon start a game of finding Bruce's bio dad.

" I have no idea who he is."

"WHAT!"

"I have one father and he's probably arm wrestling God beyond the grave. And winning."

The problem with having lesbian moms is you try to be super cool and cut all your hair off and buy a leather jacket and wear boots all the time and then you go to some event in your neighborhood and all these women three times your age start cooing “oh you look JUST like your mother when she was your age, my gosh what a blast from the past, oh I just love your hair”

as a finnish person, i hate everything that has something to do with sweden, but as a homosexual, young royals is one of the greatest shows i've ever seen

My good people, I give you: Amatonormativity.

it’s the way she keeps trying to be Good and do what the other version of herself wants, and one version of her reluctantly laughing while the other smashes the guitar, sitting intaking the lesson that ‘everyone will betray you’, willingly pushing through taking shots while the other encourages her. Like it really unpacks and goes into her need to Be Good And Please Those Around Her and she kinda goes along with it and does her part even though she’s clearly Not Having A Good Time and it just has me ): ): ): ):