#but definitely

If a white male lead is toxic or cruel, the narrative immediately rushes in to show you his broken childhood or his mental health struggles. Suddenly it’s not about the harm he’s actively inflicting on the people around him, it’s about how much he’s suffering on the inside. His choices get rebranded as trauma responses, and the story flips the burden onto everyone else to heal him, understand him, and forgive him. If his partner sets a basic boundary or asks for an actual apology, the narrative frames them as rigid and unfeeling for not catering to his pain fast enough. It’s a complete free pass. His past trauma becomes an absolution machine where he never actually has to take responsibility for his own actions because poor him he's so so sad.

But the second you look at female characters or characters of color, that entire grace period disappears. When a POC character has trauma, the story almost never uses it to excuse their bad behavior. Instead their pain is written as baggage they need to deal with quietly so they don't burden anyone else. They’re routinely forced into the role of the patient, grounded anchor whose entire narrative purpose is to perform emotional labor for the volatile white lead, completely stripping them of their own right to be angry, complex, or messy. If a female or POC character makes even a minor mistake, reacts out of hurt, or dares to hold the fan favorite accountable, both the narrative and the fandom drop the hammer on them. They get called annoying, selfish, or toxic, while the white guy gets thousands of words of fan essays dissecting his childhood to explain why he’s actually just a broken boy who needs a hug.

Hi anon 👋 I wish I had something more insightful to add. I'm honestly in the process of unpacking my feelings in regards to Kimi and it's not a done deal yet lol.

(this got sooooo long winded. i'm adding a read more 😊)

Tommy walked through his apartment door one hot summer night in LA, tired and ready for a lukewarm shower after a shift of sweat and stress, and knelt to untie his shoes by the door. As he stood, he felt a buzz in his back pocket. He took his phone out and flicked it open without paying much attention, heading for his fridge for a bottle of water. He paused with the door open, bottle in hand, as he read the sender's name.

He hadn't heard from Diaz in months. Not since he and Buck split. In fact, his last text had gone undelivered. He was fairly sure Eddie blocked him.

Without any text around it for context, after months of no-contact, Eddie had sent him a video. The preview for it was just a black screen.

Tommy tapped the play arrow.

The black appeared to be from the video taper adjusting the phone in their hand. The image shifted quickly, to a sight that stunned him to see.

A zoom in on Buck from the neck up, head thrown back and eyes clenched shut. His pretty amber curls in complete disarray as they stuck to his sweaty forehead, his soft cheeks flushed a deep red, and his pretty mouth parted as he panted and whined. He had been chewing his lips; they were red and marked from it in a way that Tommy was once quite familiar with.

The camera panned down, following the trail of blooming red marks down his neck to his smooth round pecs. He appeared to have his arms splayed out on either side of himself, though the camera didn't move to show their exact position. It followed the marks the filmer had likely made down, down, down to where Buck's wide, weeping cockhead was leaving smears of pre all over his stomach.

It swayed and dragged, leaving glistening moisture in its wake. The camera lingered on it, followed it, as though the filmer was distracted by it for a moment. Or maybe they were just emphasizing how good Buck was feeling? It was certainly emphasized to Tommy; he didn't remember Buck leaking that much when they fucked, though he did get wetter than most men Tommy had been with

The video resumed its downward path, following the length of Buck's flushed shaft to his balls, drawn tight and pushed up by gravity thanks to the way he was positioned. It came to a stop again when it reached his hole.

His wide-stretched, lube drenched hole, and the flushed nearly purple cock thrusting steadily inside him. The raw cock. There wasn't a condom to be seen around that huge fucking thing as it pushed in and out of Buck while Tommy watched.

Then, a brief shot of thumb on the lens, and the zoom of the video changed. When he could see Buck again, he was treated to a wide angle shot of him from the cock-owner's incredible perspective.

He did have his arms spread beside him like Tommy assumed, biceps flexing as he clutched at the bedspread beneath him like it was the only thing keeping him from being swept off the bed. His thighs were as littered with bites and marks as his throat and as tense as his biceps; they were shaking and hard at work keeping him raised slightly off the pillows that had been shoved under him to get the angle the filmer wanted. His pelvis was perfectly tilted, allowing for his hole to be in the light and his cock to drag across his stomach.

Tommy had fucked him, but he had never seen him look so overwhelmed by it. The way his whole body was trembling as the owner of that fat purple cock continued to thrust into him was mesmerizing.

The owner of said cock slammed in hard, pushing upwards as he did, and Buck’s body spasmed as he arched into it. Tommy's volume was low, but he heard him cry, “Eddie!” as his body jerked.

Tommy pressed down on his volume until it was all the way up. The sound of the bed in the video creaking and the filmer's heavy breathing became loud and clear. Above both sounds, he heard Buck whining as he tossed his head side to side.

“Oh!” he gasped. “No, no, I'll come. It's too much!”

The filmer Eddie. It was definitely Eddie, Tommy accepted that as he watched Buck continue to take his cock on his phone screen. Eddie just said, “Go ahead, baby. Come for me,” and began to slam in even harder.

Tommy had never been one for rough sex. He didn't think Buck was either. Apparently, he had been wrong.

Buck responded to the harsher thrusts with a loud cry, before seemingly forcing his eyes open. He paid the camera no mind, possibly didn't even notice it as he locked eyes with Eddie. The camera, however, noticed him, and the glint of the tears that began to stream down his face without his clenched eyelids to hold them back.

“Eddie,” he whined again, then again, until he was all but chanting, “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” with each harsh slam of Eddie's pelvis against his ass.

Tommy could hear the slap of skin on skin.

He watched, unblinking, as Buck's fevered chanting grew in pitch and volume, until a whole body shudder went through him, his hips jerked, and he all but screamed, “EDDIE!” before his pretty, red cock began to shoot all over his stomach.

The video ended as the phone fell with a dull thump onto the bed beside him.

Tommy was left standing in his open fridge, holding a water in his free hand, and staring at the black video preview while confusion and arousal were warring inside his brain.

He finally moved to let the fridge fall closed.

Then, as he watched, the video blinked away and was replaced by the words Eddie Diaz unsent a message, leaving him even more completely confused. Did Eddie mean to send that to him? What the hell was happening?

He watched the three little dots bubble up below the unsent message, blinking because it was the only thing he felt like he knew how to do. Then, a simple, four word message came through and he knew for sure that, yes, that video was for him. He was meant to see it, hear it, live with it ingrained in his brain with a clear message behind it.

All Eddie said was, “You lost.”

Someone asked what spn monster they would like to play, and Jensen immediately said wendigo. That wasn't his final answer, but it was his immediate answer.

And my brain is like: there's a Jared gif from years ago where the question was what spn monster would you fuck, and jared said wendigo (because he'd like to see what it's like to f someone taller 😅)