#but hating woman is more important to you

[kekewrites]

How to make a baby 101

Tw. dubcon, dark content, virginity loss, breeding kink, creampie, size difference, a lil age gap (2-4 years), sex education gone wrong, cunningless, coercion, nicknames, creampie, overstimulation, corruption, reader is ignorant and innocent (sheltered, kinda went a bit mute at the snusnu part), nerdy to cocky (character)

***

Step 1: Ask your childhood friend to help you study for your exam.

"Hmm? How to make a baby?" His eyes widen a little, a small flicker of something in his eyes as you ask him about reproduction system or along that line.

"Well," he said slowly, his voice still composed but with a hint of surprise, "that's not quite how it works." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "Making a baby is a bit more...complicated than that."

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, you listened attentively as he explained the mechanics of reproduction, his deep voice a low rumble. The bedroom lamp cast a warm glow over the scattered textbooks and printouts, illuminating your curious expression.

"Okay, so the male produces sperm, which are essentially cells with a tail..." He paused, realizing how bizarre that sounded. He pressed on. "Right. And the female ovulates an egg once a month. When the egg is fertilized by the sperm, it starts dividing and..." He flipped to a diagram showing the developing fetus week by week.

Your brow furrowed, your finger tracing the arc of a tiny spine. "But... how does the sperm get inside the egg?" you asked, genuinely puzzled.

He cleared his throat, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down his neck despite the coolness of the room. He'd been dreading this part. "Uh... well, that happens through... sexual intercourse."

You blinked at him, "What's that mean?"

Fuck. Think, choose your words carefully.

"It means... when a man and a woman... um... physically join... their genitals..." His face felt like it was on fire.

You tilted your head, studying him with frank curiosity. "You mean like... when you put your penis in a girl's vagina?"

Direct, to the point, no nonsense. Just like her.

He blinked. Twice. Thrice. "Y-yes. Exactly like that," he managed to croak out.

"And the penis is like a big, FAT sperm," you said, matter-of-factly. "So the sperm comes out of there and swims up to the egg when the girl ovulates, and then they meet and the egg gets fertilized."

He stared at you, momentarily lost for words. "Er... yes. More or less," he agreed weakly.

Jesus fucking christ.

"But... why do you think the penis has to go inside the vagina to do that? Why can't the sperm just swim through the girl's belly button or something?" You asked, genuinely puzzled.

Because it fucking feels incredible, that's why. Among other reasons.

"W-well, because..." He took a deep breath. "The male... releases the sperm directly into the female's reproductive tract... to increase the chances of fertilizing the egg," he said, trying to keep his voice level.

God, could he sound more like a robot?

You nodded slowly, considering this. "Oh. Okay. So... the penis goes inside the vagina, and then the sperm comes out and swims up to the egg. That's how a baby gets made."

You're oversimplifying it, but... yes. Basically.

"That's right," He confirmed, feeling like a fraud. He'd failed to mention the vast majority of the process – the hormones, the emotions, the raw, animalistic need that drove humans to couple.

At least until she's old enough to understand... and maybe hate me for it.

Looking down at the diagrams strewn across the bedspread, frowning slightly. "I still don't really get why the penis has to be inside the vagina though..." she mused. "Is that like... really important?"

Fuck me, it's not just important, it's essential. Indispensable. Irresistible.

And I really need to stop thinking about this before I embarrass myself.

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice even. "It's... yes. It's very important. For biological reasons," he said shortly.

Like the fact that a man loses his goddamn mind with lust when he's buried inside a woman's tight, wet heat. Fuck.

"Oh. Okay..." You said slowly. "I guess that makes sense."

Thank fuck for that.

Tapping your chin thoughtfully. "So... the penis gets hard, and then it goes inside the vagina, and then the man ejaculates the sperm, and that's how a baby happens..."

Too fucking right it is. Among other things.

"...and then the egg gets fertilized, and the baby starts growing in the womb..."

He nodded jerkily. "Yes, that's... that's pretty much it," he agreed, feeling like he was standing in the middle of a firing range with a live grenade in his hand.

And I'm the fucking grenade.

"And then the baby comes out and..."

And a man comes so fucking hard he sees stars, buried balls-deep in a woman's clenching, spasming cunt...

You were still talking, but your voice faded into static as a dizzying rush of images flooded his brain. The slick glide of a woman's hot, velvety walls gripping his aching cock like a fist, the filthy slap of skin on skin, the debauched sounds of pleasure spilling from kiss-swollen lips...

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

Step 2: Preparing to make a baby.

"So first you need to get comfortable, lie back on the bed." He instructs calmly, his deep voice low and clear. He watches as you reluctantly complies, easing herself onto the edge of the bed.

"Good girl," he praises softly, careful not to let his growing desire bleed into his tone. "Now spread your legs for me, nice and wide. I need to inspect you closely first."

You hesitate a moment before slowly parting your thighs, revealing your most intimate area to his hungry gaze. He feels his cock twitch in anticipation but forces himself to focus.

"Beautiful..." he murmurs, more to himself than to you. He kneels down between your spread legs, bringing his face level with your core. Inhaling deeply, he catches the scent - musky and heady, already tinged with arousal.

"The first step is to get you nice and excited," he explains, his voice still calm despite the building heat between them. "I'm going to start by stimulating your clit. Can you tell me where that is?"

When you glance down uncertainly, "Shh, it's okay. I'll guide you."

He parts the lower lips with his thumbs, exposing the delicate flesh of your inner walls. Your clit peeks out from beneath its hood, already glistening slightly.

"There it is," he murmurs, tracing the swollen nub with the pad of his thumb. "It's this sensitive little button here. When I touch it, you'll feel sparks of pleasure. Don't fight it."

True to his word, he begins to stroke your clit with a feather-light touch, circling and flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves. Almost immediately, you gasp and writhes beneath his ministrations.

"That's it sweetheart," he encourages, his own breathing growing a bit ragged. "Let yourself feel good. Get nice and wet for me..."

His fingers delve deeper, parting your slick folds and seeking the entrance to her channel. "You're already so wet," he groans softly, feeling her silky walls clench around his probing touch. "That's perfect..."

He works his fingers inside, curling them to brush against that spongey spot deep within, as his thumb continues to circle your clit. The dual stimulation has you arching off the bed, breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"Good girl, just like that," he praises huskily, pumping his fingers steadily in and out of her tight heat. "You're doing so well, sweetheart. Getting so nice and ready for me..."

He leans in closer, his warm breath ghosting over your drenched folds. The scent of your desire is intoxicating, making his head swim. Unable to resist, he dips his head and runs his tongue along your slit.

"Mmm, you taste divine," he rumbles, his voice vibrating, "I could eat this pretty pussy for hours..."

He seals his lips around your clit and suckles gently. At the same time, he increases the speed and pressure of his fingers pumping into, curling them to ruthlessly stimulate that special spot inside.

You cry out sharply, hips bucking up against his mouth as your pleasure spirals rapidly. He just grips your thighs tighter, holding in place as he continues his relentless assault. Feeling your walls starting to quiver and clench erratically around his plunging fingers.

"That's it, baby," he urges between licks and suckles, his words slightly muffled. "Come for me. I want to feel you come all over my tongue..."

He redoubles his efforts, determined to bring you to the peak of ecstasy. His cock throbs almost painfully in his pants, leaking pre-cum at the thought of burying himself inside.

Crying out, back arching sharply as orgasm crashes over you. Inner muscles clench and spasm around his invading fingers, gushing fluid that he eagerly laps up.

As your spasms slowly subside, his tongue now lapping softly at your sensitive flesh, soothing through the aftershocks. He releases your clit from his lips and places tender kisses along the inner thighs as he slowly withdraws his fingers.

When he finally lifts his head, face is glistening with juices, a look of deep satisfaction on his handsome features. He crawls up your body to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss - letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

"Mmm, you're exquisite," he murmurs against her mouth when he finally comes up for air. "So responsive and sweet..."

Step 3: This is how a baby is made.

Taking a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he gazes down at you, naked, flushed form. He can still taste you on his tongue.

"Now, sweetheart, the next step is for me to enter you," he explains, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire. "I'll need to guide myself inside your tight little cunt. It might feel a bit intense at first."

His hands skim down your inner thighs, parting them further as he settles himself between them. With one hand, he frees his aching cock from the confines of his pants. It springs forth, thick and hard, the bulbous head already glistening with pre-cum.

Wrapping his fingers around the base, giving himself a few slow pumps as he lines himself up with your entrance. He can feel the slick folds fluttering against the tip of his member as he teases the opening. Biting his lip, he fights the urge to simply slam forward and bury himself to the hilt. He needs to go slow, to let her adjust to his size.

Slowly, he pushes forward, feeling tight walls parting for his girth. He has to grit his teeth at the exquisite sensation. You let out a shaky moan, fingers digging into the sheets below.

"That's it, baby," He grits out. "Take me inside you, feels so fucking good." He bottoms out with a low groan, heavy balls nestling against your ass. He stays still for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling of being so utterly stuffed full.

Leaning down, he capture your mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing whimpers and moans as he begins to move. He starts with shallow thrusts, withdrawing until just the tip remains inside, before plunging back in to the hilt. Gradually, he increases his pace, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm as he claims her body as his. He savors the taste of your mouth.

He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down the column of your throat, pausing to nip and suck at the racing pulse point. "You feel incredible," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "So tight and perfect, like you were made for me..."

His hand drifts down to your breast, cupping the soft mound possessively. He kneads it with gentle pressure, thumb brushing over the stiff peak of her nipple. Feeling it pebble further beneath his touch, he dips his head to take the hardened nub into his mouth.

You gasp sharply, arching up into him as he suckles the nipple, tongue flicking over the sensitive flesh.

"Gonna...fuck...cum inside you," he grunts, feeling his release fast approaching. "Gonna pump you full...make you...mine..."

His strokes become erratic, each driving thrust pushing him closer to the edge. He can feel his cock pulsing and jerking inside her slick sheath, his heavy balls drawing up in anticipation.

"Remember sweetheart," he pants harshly, eyes burning into you. "For me to fill you with my seed...you need to be ready to receive it. Open for me, baby...let me fill you up..."

He reaches down to rub tight circles over throbbing clit, wanting to feel you spasm around him as he finds his release deep inside. The lesson is simple - to make a baby, they both need to let go. Body tenses, muscles coiled taut as a bowstring as he teeters on the brink of ecstasy. With a hoarse shout of your name, he hilts inside one final time and erupts. His cock jerks and pulses, painting the insides white with his hot, thick seed.

"Fuuuuck, yes! Take it baby, take my cum!" eyes squeezing shut as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over him. Holding you in place as he empties himself deep inside.

Head thrown back and eyes rolled up as your own climax slams in your core. Milking him for every last drop of his potent release.

They remain locked together, chests heaving and sweat-slicked skin pressed close as they bask in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

"Mmm, you did so well, sweetheart," he murmurs after a long moment, brushing damp strands of hair from your face. "Took every drop like you were made for it."

He leans in to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss.

"That's how you make a baby," he whispers.

[nothinggathers]

JK Rowling used your support to do this.

It doesn't matter if you don't give her money any more, if you still support the IP and still engage with it then you make interacting with it socially acceptable. You are forcing LGBTQ+ people (oh yeah, she went after the Asexuals too, recently, we're not real according to her, we just don't enjoy sex and shouldn't tell everyone) away from your table in order to make room for Nazis.

You have to denounce her. You have to distance yourself from the IP. Because nobody can tell the difference between somebody that engages with it but doesn't hate LGBTQ+ people, and someone that does. Including JKR. She can't tell the difference either. She thinks you're supporting her. Because you're still advertising her shit to other people.

You have to stop. Your fandom is not more important than the lives she is destroying. And the fact you think it is speaks volumes about how little the lives of Trans people mean to you.

marauders fans are so much worse than garden variety hp fans bc they've deluded themselves into having a superiority complex. "ackshually we don't support jkr and our fandom has queer & poc representation" girl...your fandom is the worst mass delusion since the dancing plague of 1518, your "representation" is a series of headcanons for characters who are little more than names in a series whose worldbuilding you continue to use in your art and whose existence has material consequences for trans people in the uk. you cannot headcanon your way out of supporting one of if not the most famous transphobe in the world. there are fantasy books by real life queer people and people of colour that will never get a fraction of of support that jkr does. read those instead and take a personality quiz oh my GOD

[genderkoolaid]

seeing someone say "lesbiphobia" and immediately trying to tell if they just spelled it a weird way or if they are part of the camp who think that spelling it "lesbophobia" is lesbophobic because it includes the word "lesbo" because a twitter user who genuinely calls gay men fags as an insult told them so

[riddleredcoats]

well, everyone I care about has already seen the episode, so im going to say my piece and this is going to be the last wheel of time about the show that I will make or reblog.

This is fucked up beyond all reason.

Not only have they killed off the queer woman of colour to prop her white partner, they have always planned to do so.

The oath rod and the oath came into this with such importance that it only tells me that this was always the plan. Which means they promoted the show and talked about this couple like it mattered, like it would go the distance full knowing how it would end.

They sold the Oath Rod scene as a marriage vow when THIS was always the plan, and for that the show has lost all confidence I had in it.

And to add insult to injury they did it in a unnecessarily brutal way. Siuan was fully brutalised on full display; other scenes where similar people were hurt or whatever were done in darkness, but there she was - brutalized on the first good lighted scene in the season, it seems like. And then- they fucking BEHEAD her.

It is unacceptable and if the claims about colourism weren't already making the rounds, this should shoot it to the top of the list.

And this is not even considering that Siuan has a fucking arc in the goddamned books to continue. They literally took it all away, and made her matter only to her white partner and then had the gall to fucking kill her without her being nothing more than Moiraine's girlfriend.

I hate this. I hate that I ever got anyone interested in this show. And I hate that when I talked to people before, I always dismissed when they said that Siuan would die for Moiraine, because I thought it was idiotic. I am so sorry to those people because they were right.

Because that's what happened and, worse, that was always the plan.

Oh, and btw, fuck Justine Juel Gillmer, im never watching a show with her on it. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...

[cobaltperun]

The Catalyst - Stronger On Your Own

WandaNat x Female Reader

Story summary: A peaceful life could never be an option, especially not when backing out of a fight means leaving your loved ones to fight. It still doesn't change the fact that you hate having these powers.

Chapter summary: A reunion with an old friend brings you back into the life you tried to leave behind. How do you deal with once again being in the same room with the woman you once loved? The same woman that left you to die?

Spotify Playlist

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.8k

-Self-destruction is the name of the game, I say I've had enough, but still want it all again-

Annoyance, that's what this man was. Just another thug that got powerful enough to feel like he's untouchable. Just another man thinking he caught her, boasting to himself that he outsmarted the infamous Black Widow.

Typical.

Well, it certainly made her job much easier.

It wouldn't take long for Luchkov to start talking, feeling like he was in control, like he didn't walk right into her web. “I thought General Solohob is in charge of the export business,” Natasha faked being clueless, not being up to date on the information.

“Solohob? A bagman, a front. Your outdated information betrays you. The famous Black Widow turns out to be just another pretty face,” Luchkov taunted her, underestimated her, believed having her tied to a chair would be enough to be safe. He turned away from her with hands in his pockets, full of himself.

“You really think I’m pretty?” and she let him believe all of that. Even when one of the two thugs Luchkov brought along grabbed her jaw and forced her mouth open.

“Tell Lermentov we don’t need him to move the tanks,” Luchkov took his sweet time getting to the table. “Tell him he is out. Well,” he took pliers and turned to look at her. “You may have to write it down,” he couldn’t even threaten properly.

A phone suddenly ringing did catch her by surprise, especially when it turned out it was for her, and Natasha was fairly sure Coulson was the one who called and was now threatening Luchkov into handing Natasha the phone. She didn’t show it in any way, but she wasn’t happy with this interruption, she was on a job, and all this was doing was making the job take more time than necessary.

Still, she’d hear Coulson out. But it better be important. Luchkov handed her the phone and she held it on her shoulder.

“We need you to come in,” she slightly frowned at that.

“Are you kidding? I’m working,” surely it wasn’t that urgent. This would have taken her another ten, maybe fifteen minutes.

“This takes precedence,” Coulson remained persistent, and for a moment Natasha was reminded of last year, where it felt like the whole world was turned on its head in one week. Aliens, monsters, technologies and weapons she had no hopes of matching even with the super soldier serum the Red Room gave her.

She pushed those thoughts out of her head. This wasn’t the time to dwell on the past. Instead, she pushed back against Coulson. “I’m in the middle of an interrogation, and this moron is giving me everything,” it didn’t even matter that he was right in front of her, hearing every word she spoke. By this point Natasha knew the job was finished, the flow of the interrogation was stopped, Luchkov was no longer in control, she wouldn’t get what she needed.

“I don’t give everything,” Luchkov stammered to the thug on his left and Natasha just looked at him almost unable to believe how stupid the man was.

“Look, you can’t pull me out of this right now,” maybe Luchkov was that stupid to fall right back into her trap if he played her cards right.

“Natasha, Barton’s been compromised,” in a single moment everything changed and this job no longer mattered.

“Let me put you on hold,” she said and the moment Luchkov took the phone she kicked him in the leg and headbutted him. He went down, dazed and taken by surprise as she got up and, while still tied to the chair made quick work of his two thugs, dodging their attempts to hit her and using the chair against them. She fought on autopilot, breaking the chair on one of the thugs. There was only one thing on her mind, Clint being compromised, and her not knowing anything, not where he was, not even if he was alive or for how long he would remain alive.

The lack of attention to the fight allowed one of the thugs to grab her, but it didn’t matter, she twisted his arm and knocked him out, focusing just for a moment on ending this whole thing and immediately heading back so she could rescue Clint.

As she tied a chain around Luchkov’s leg and pushed him over the edge she resolved to do anything to get Clint back. No matter what she wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

Natasha didn’t even spare the man a second look, she just turned around, took her high heels and phone and headed for the exit.

“Where’s Barton now?” she asked.

“We don’t know,” that was close to the worst answer she could get and that familiar dread set in once again. What would happen by the time they managed to locate Clint?

She didn’t have the luxury to dwell on the possibilities. “But he’s alive?”

“We think so,” yet another uncertainty. “We’ll brief you on everything when you get back. But first, we need you to talk to the big guy,” Coulson told her and Natasha figured this was it, the Avengers Initiative was being restarted.

Still, she wasn’t the best person to talk Stark into joining, and as far as she was aware Fury would handle Rogers. “Coulson, you know that Stark trusts me about as far as he can throw me.”

“Oh, I’ve got Stark! You get the big guy,” the moment Coulson said that she stopped, understanding exactly who the big guy was.

“My God,” she whispered in Russian, doing her best to suppress the last year’s incident from her mind.

Coulson didn’t hang up though, and Natasha didn’t like that one bit. “We also need you to get L/N,” she froze, nearly dropping her high heels.

She felt like something squeeze her chest, but she pushed it to the back of her head. “She won’t come,” it was naïve of Fury to even consider you for the Avengers initiative. You wouldn’t even hear them out, and you especially wouldn’t hear her out. It’s been almost three years since she last saw you face to face, three years since that cursed mission that ruined everything between the two of you, and you abandoned S.H.I.E.L.D.

“She will if we send you,” Coulson was always too optimistic, too willing to hope for the best.

Natasha was more realistic, aware that she was actually the worst person to go and meet up with you. Countless times she rewatched what little recordings there were of the mission, desperately wishing she could yell at her younger self to turn around, to go back and reach you, save you, everything else be damned, but there was no changing the past.

“Where is she?” she asked, willing to at least give it a try. You wouldn’t turn hostile, that much she could still be sure of.

“You know where,” she heard sympathy in Coulson’s voice, maybe even pity. It was true though, she knew where you were, she’s always known where you were, not that you were trying to hide.

~X~

You frowned in your sleep, memories plaguing your mind once more. Always the same, always the same cold eyes, the same red helmet, the same purple cape, the same destruction and rage, unstoppable, focus solely on erasing everything in his path.

A monster driven by rage and grief, too powerful to be stopped by mere humans. Metal constructions twisted and broke apart, falling to ruin in his rage.

"Stop!" you screamed, abruptly jumping to your feet, shaking as your hands lit up in flames. Your eyes widened, the flashes of the nightmare still fresh in your mind, as you extinguished the flames you unwillingly lit, and sighed. There was no way you could go back to sleep now.

You glanced at the clock; it was barely past midnight. You sighed, ready for a sleepless night, the cabin you spent the past two years in felt suffocating tonight, so you went outside and sat down at the table on your porch. The dense forest looked ominously dark, with no lights anywhere around you, other than the moonlight, but you’ve gotten used to it. You appreciated the peace and quiet it brought, but tonight you just couldn’t find peace.  You were restless, and it annoyed you.

The sound of the night was suddenly disturbed by a familiar sound of a quinjet and you looked up just in time to see it flying toward your cabin and landing with perfect precision that ruled out damn near every agent.

You stood up, watching as the doors opened and Natasha Romanoff stepped onto the grass. You watched her, stuck between confusion and annoyance, but somehow it all vanished when she approached and you got to see her up close. It wasn’t the fact that she wasn’t in her uniform, or that there were clear signs of exhaustion on her face, it was her eyes that told you everything.

You didn’t greet her though, you just turned around, opening the doors and going inside, but the doors kept open were enough for her to get the message.

“I need you to come in,” Natasha said as she walked inside, immediately and instantly taking every detail of your cabin in. The ways out, the distance to the nearest weapon, the small signs of life left everywhere, a nicked glass of water you didn’t finish before going to sleep, the newspaper neatly folded on the side of the table, the glaive hanging on the wall, always close enough for you to grab.

“You do?” you asked, leaning back against the table with your arms crossed.

“I do,” she didn’t explain it any further.

“I’m not in the mood to be depowered again, Romanoff,” you went through it once, it nearly cost you your life. Maybe it would have been better that way. The way it was right now, it cost you a lot more than your life. You were alive, but you lost the life you built, betrayed by the people you trusted and the woman you loved.

“That isn’t Fury’s intention,” you tried resisting her, you wanted so desperately to resist her, yet that look in her eyes, that desperation and fear, the storm inside her mind.

You should have kept questioning her, should have argued against coming with her, but you knew the decision was made the moment you saw that look in Natasha’s eyes. “Bathroom is to your left, I need five minutes,” just to grab essentials, change into something more appropriate for potential combat and then freshen up yourself to properly wake up.

Natasha looked like she needed a moment to herself a lot more than you did, and perhaps a bit of cold water would clear her mind enough.

There was no need to know exactly what was going on. Natasha was desperate enough to come to you, even if it was likely an order. Still, she came to you, after everything that happened, and you couldn’t ignore that.

You didn’t put on your old uniform, you no longer had it, instead you just went with civilian clothing, simple jacket, shirt and pants, and the moment Natasha stepped out of your bathroom you went in.

You finished freshening up a bit and grabbed a towel, and it immediately hit you. The familiar comforting scent of Natasha’s perfume, subtle, yet so definitively her own. “Fuck,” you cursed, giving up on drying your face and throwing the towel in the basket. You watched the towel with disdain, as if it was the towel’s fault that you suddenly felt at ease. You huffed, pushing the old feelings aside and just wiped your face dry with a clean towel.

When you stepped out you saw Natasha was already outside, not wanting to intrude on the peace you tried to build in this cabin with her presence and you did your best to ignore how right it felt when she was in the cabin with you. You took your bag and glaive and joined her in front of the cabin. “Let’s get this over with,” you muttered, letting Natasha take the lead. And she did it, without a single unnecessary word spoken.

~X~

To your surprise you didn’t go straight to where the helicarrier was at the moment. Instead you went to India. Still, it gave you enough time to get caught up to speed with things that happened. The Avengers Initiative, including Natasha, Clint, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner and Thor, as well as you. You paused when you reached the data on Banner, remembering last year. While you and Natasha didn’t meet up, Clint did pull you back in and you went, keeping your distance but you were there in case Natasha needed backup.

You glanced toward her, wondering what was going through her mind, what got her to seek you out instead of sending Clint. Whatever it was, it had to be bad for Natasha to be like this.

“I doubt you’d be this concerned over the Cube,” sure, she cared, but this was more than that. This was desperation, this was something you weren’t used to seeing from her.

Natasha sighed. “Clint’s been compromised,” and it all made sense now. You stood up on instinct, approaching her and reaching for her shoulder, but you stopped, turning away at the last second.

“You’ll get him back,” you left it at that, returning to the files and not speaking another word, even though the silence was deafening at times. Neither you or Natasha said a single word for the rest of the flight, or as she met up with other agents in Calcutta and set up a plan to convince Banner to come with her.

You just stood by, taking note of the tension everywhere around you. This wasn’t just because of the dangers that came with trying to convince the Hulk to come aboard, this was more than that, this was the reality of being utterly outmatched hitting every single agent all at once. You sat near the comms and yet again your eyes found Natasha. She changed into a beautiful black dress and you forced yourself to look away, fearing the old emotions would reemerge, pushing aside the anger you felt because of her betrayal.

She went inside the old house, waiting for Banner to show up and you chose just to listen, to not get involved even if a fight broke out. You wouldn’t fight. You wouldn’t do anything unless the whole world was in danger.

About five minutes later Banner entered the shack and you listened to Natasha talking to him. Calm, steady, but with just the tiniest hint of fear buried deep under the mask she put on. None of the other agents here could have possibly caught it, Clint and Fury could, and you, apparently, still could, but no one else.

Unless she let someone else in over the past three years.

“Just you and me,” you heard Natasha saying, lying to Banner who correctly guessed the shack was surrounded.

“And your actress buddy? She a spy too? They start that young?” there was no animosity in his voice, not yet, but there was something a tiny bit eerie about his tone. It was too calm, like a calm before the storm, or a quiet rage waiting to be unleashed. Yeah, maybe that was more appropriate for his case.

“I did,” Natasha replied and you got caught up in memories for a moment, remembering her opening up to you about the Red Room. And then, not even a month later, it all fell apart. The conversation between them continued, a back and forth that for once had Natasha putting in all of her effort to keep the situation under control. Armor piercing bullets wouldn’t even scratch the Hulk. “I’m here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D.”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. How’d they find me?” you heard a hint of that rage slipping through and sat up, now more alert of their conversation. The entrance to the shack was directly in front of you.

Yet Natasha regained control over the situation, at least for now. “We never lost you, Doctor. We’ve kept our distance, even helped keep some other interested parties off your scent,” her voice didn’t waver, almost as if she was trying to soothe him. Even if it probably affected you more than it affected Banner.

“Why?” or maybe it worked on him too, as that rage turned more into confusion.

Clearly Banner still hasn’t met Fury, that man was in a league of his own when it came to his own methods and reasons. “Nick Fury seems to trust you. But now we need you to come in.”

“What if I say no?” Banner asked, once again proving he didn’t know Fury, otherwise he wouldn’t be asking such questions.

“I’ll persuade you,” she just… you knew that tone, the same seductive tone she used on her targets, and you glared at the comms, annoyed a lot more than you had any right to be.

“And what if the Other Guy says no?” you once again got alert against your will, waiting anxiously for even the smallest hint of danger.

You weren’t going to fight.

You weren’t going to fight.

“You’ve been more than a year without an incident. I don’t think you want to break that streak,” Natasha remained as in control as she could be, given the situation.

“Well, I don’t every time get what I want,” there was a clear threat in those words, a warning, and an acceptance of the circumstances he was in.

“Doctor, we’re facing a potential global catastrophe,” Natasha chose to plead to his sense of humanity. His empathy, or what was left of it. Considering what he went through you’d be surprised if he had any desire to help or protect people. And yet he was a doctor in a poor part of town. Necessity? Certainly. But you weren’t quite sure what kind of necessity drove him to do it.  

Banner chuckled, though it wasn’t out of amusement. “Oh those I actively try to avoid.”

“This is the Tesseract. It has the potential energy to wipe out the planet,” and then there was that. The stolen Cube, Tessaract. Fury was desperate. From what you read this team, if it even got formed, would be volatile, clashing ideals, big personalities, tensions. Nothing short of a miracle would get all of these people on board.

A miracle or…

You glanced toward the shack for the first time, approximately to where Natasha could be. Maybe that was Fury’s miracle.

“What does Fury want me to do? Swallow it?” despite the tension you felt you still smirked a bit at that.

“He wants you to find it. It’s been taken. It emits a Gamma signature that’s too weak for us to trace. No one knows Gamma radiation like you do. If there was, that’s where I’d be,” Natasha explained.

“So, Fury isn’t after the monster?” Banner questioned, alost unwilling to believe that.

“Not that he’s told me,” even if all the signs pointed toward the opposite.

“And he tells you everything?” no, Fury barely says anything to anyone. No one but Fury can know everything.

“Talk to Fury, he needs you on this,” Natasha didn’t answer, she didn’t need to.

“He needs me in a cage?” Banner immediately countered.

“No one’s going to put you in a-“ Natasha tried to reassure him.

“Stop lying to me!” Banner yelled, slamming his hands on the table.

You moved without thinking, crossing the distance and reaching the entrance in less than a second. “Don’t move,” you pointed your glaive at Banner, ready to fight. You didn’t take your eyes off him, you didn’t notice the tears in Natasha’s eyes, but you could hear the subtlest shift in her breathing and it was enough for you. “Unless you want me to fry your brain,” you kept your weapon raised as you closed the distance and pusher the table to the side, putting yourself right between Natasha and Banner. He seemed more amused.

“That’s not a good idea,” he told you, but he didn’t move. And it wasn’t for his sake, it was for your own and Natasha’s, because the Other Guy, as he called the Hulk, wouldn’t let you kill him.

“The best I can come up with,” you weren’t stupid. You knew you had nothing that could stop the Hulk, that you had no chance of beating him in a fight. You could still probably stall enough to get Natasha out of here. Even if Banner had all the advantage at this distance. You had no idea how quickly he could transform, but chances were that you and Natasha were both a split second from being blood splatters on he walls, even if you were both alert and ready to react.

“Stand down, L/N,” Natasha warned you, and you wanted to, you really did. You made a promise to yourself that you wouldn’t get involved yet here you were.

Before you could answer Banner raised his hands. “I’m sorry, that was mean,” he actually smiled and looked over your shoulder at Natasha. “I just wanted to see what you’d do,” he took a few steps back, giving Natasha and you a slightly bigger window to react. “Why don’t we do this the easy way, where you don’t use that,” he pointed at your weapons of choice and then at himself. “And the Other Guy doesn’t make a mess? Okay? Natasha?”

You dared to look back at Natasha, finally noticing the tears in her eyes. “Stand down. We’re good here,” she spoke to the rest of the agents.

“Just you and me?” Banner seemed almost amused by the situation.

“Does it make a difference?” you asked and he shrugged, as if agreeing that, no, it really didn’t make a difference. He stepped outside and headed toward the agents, silently accepting to come along.

“That was reckless,” Natasha scolded you and you looked to the side, not quite willing to look her in the eyes. “L/N,” she raised her voice just a tiny bit, just enough to show you that she was actually angry at you for putting yourself in danger. “What if something happened to you?”

You slowly looked back at her, not quite sure you heard her correctly. “You did not just say that,” you laughed, even if your laughter was hollow, almost mocking her. “You know what, I don’t care,” you shook your head and magnetized your glaive to your back before heading back to the quinjet.

A/N: That's the first chapter. So... anyone interested in a taglist?

[yallthemwitches]

thoughts on how when lily's feelings evolve it likely shifts her perspective about his innate confidence and thereby even his moments of cockiness? i personally don't subscribe to the notion that when james matured it meant he became meek and humble

James Potter meek???? In this economy????

But in all seriousness, I don't really subscribe to the idea that Lily just put rose colored glasses on for James, nor do I think he absolutely transformed himself to be with Lily (more on maturity later!)

I CERTAINLY don't agree with the idea that James was ever meek. Did he learn to be less rash and emotional with his actions, yeah. But that doesn't constitute someone as meek. I think he was still as extraverted and gregarious as he always was by 7th, but it was put more in the leader/charisma camp and not the prankster/ponce-y only child one.

And while I do think James was humbled by the time his relationship with Lily rolled around (I'm sure having a BFF who was estranged by his racist family, a werewolf, and being in love with a woman who is actively being targeted by bigots -all during a very terrifying war- would do that to a person) I don't think we can just say that he "forgot where he came from," so to speak. But--I don't think that's a bad thing! In some ways, I'm sure James' (albeit ignorant at times) optimism and hope from being someone who always had privilege probably played a big factor in why all of these seemingly "broken" people gravitated to him in the first place. He was one of the only people in their lives that saw them for who they really were with scars and all and still believed they deserved love/comfort/support despite it.

I feel like this is why Lily fell in love with him too!! Think about it: by the time 7th rolled around, Lily's got it rough. She's a muggleborn knee deep in a race war actively against her kind, her best friend has chosen darks arts over her, her sister hates her, and her home life is probably not *the best* due to social class. Enter: a boy that is endlessly optimistic and loyal, someone willing to fight against the injustices he sees against the people he loves (see: Sirius/Remus), someone who--despite a fucking awful time in history--is capable of fun and happiness and JOY...and most important of all: despite ALL her difficulties, James sees her and really. fucking. loves. her. The power of being seen and loved unconditionally (perhaps for the first time! Ever!) is immeasurable.

There seems to be an underlying belief from people that Lily forced James to be better --and I'm sure she helped/motivated him in a lot of ways ( I personally subscribe to the idea that she ultimately radicalized him/was the reason he joined the order.) But! Remember that James hated the dark arts way before his relationship with Lily. Whether stemming from watching Sirius' contentious relationship with his family or the fact that the Potter's were always considered blood traitors, I think one way or another James would have found himself involved in the war after Hogwarts regardless of her. Just the proximity to war/suffering of any nature has the ability to humble a person and I doubt James would have been an exception to that. He had to have seen injustices before Lily that made him question his foundations and once he was involved with her, these experiences multiplied and became deeply personal in a way that only watching someone you love being discriminated against and hated would do.

So with all this being said: do I think by 7th year and beyond James Potter shucked off his cocky, arrogant personality? No. Do I think Lily blinded herself to James' more negative traits because she developed e feelings for him? Absolutely not. But I do think he mellowed it out and used these attributes for a better purpose than just peacocking around with his broomstick--namely optimistically (an perhaps to his detriment! See: trust in friends) being a small beacon of hope and confidence during an otherwise bleak war.

[amyrlinegwene]

Okay. So, the thing I was spoiled on was Siuan’s death. So it’s hard to say what my actual reaction is to that. Because I knew it was coming. But one thing is for sure: I think it's stupid and I think the justifications that Rafe gives for it are stupid too. But to be honest, book!Siuan has been dead a while, and they only ever let glimpses of her out anyways.

Last season, people got mad at those of us who were angry with what the show did to Siuan's character-- making her literally the opposite of her book character and using her storyline as an accessory to Moiraine's rather than her own-- saying 'wait, you'll see/you can't keep everything in the books/trust the process/you guys never like anything the show does'. Many of us felt less enamored with the show and the fandom after that, some haven't been posting and some haven't been watching.

I hate saying we told you so, but we did. They killed off Siuan, a character whose biggest storyline comes after she was deposed, not before, to give Moiraine the reaction that lets her 'kill' Lanfear. They decided that everything Siuan does after she is deposed-- guiding Egwene, becoming a mentor to her and a secret force of support to her, telling a story about how a woman who has lost everything comes back and finds a purpose-- is less important than finding a will for Moiraine to do something that she had already planned to do.

And let's talk about Moiraine for a second, without the Twisted Doorway, what was Moiraine's cutting Lanfear's throat really worth?? That is the exact same injury that Lanfear healed herself from in season two, she isn't out of commission, and if she is, that's just another inconsistency they've introduced. As for Moiraine without the Tower of Ghenjei to be trapped in, I doubt this is actually 'her death' or we would have had more of a reaction and them talking about it in the actor conversation afterwards. So, we have Moiraine, who has hardly any story left, alive and not trapped and Siuan, who has plenty of story left, dead. I don't know who they will have fill Siuan's role if they fill it at all, whether it will be Leane or Moiraine, or if Moiraine will maybe take Cadsuane's role. But this sucks, completely cutting off Siuan's storyline to add to Moiraine's story in such a minor way. I think it would be horrible to do regardless of who played Moiraine and Siuan, but I think that it must be said that it is an especially bad look that they have seemingly extended the white actress/character's storyline while prematurely cutting off the black actress/character's storyline.

As for Rafe's justifications that Siuan's story after her deposition is 'not at the forefront' and that he wanted Sophie Okonedo to be able to have a big moment before leaving, what complete fucking bullshit. As I've already discussed Siuan's most meaningful plot was ahead of her, Siuan with the wondergirls in Salidar especially Egwene was iconic and important. And Sophie's big moment and monologue could have easily come before her being stilled, not her being killed. And even if the show felt like they couldn't have justified keeping an actress like Sophie on for more seasons cost wise, the book gave them the perfect out--after being stilled, Siuan is de-aged, she could have easily been recast with a cheaper actress. The truth is that the showrunners and writers never respected Siuan as a character outside of her relationship with Moiraine and don't really care about a lot of elements of the story that are important.

[so-i-did-this-thing]

Hi!! I have an event coming up where I get to attend a luncheon with a bunch of historians as well as a talk by an incredibly important Dr. And it’s my first time meeting this group. So. A wee bit nervous.

I’m not out as trans, I still very much pass for a cis woman and get very dysphoric in women’s clothing. I’m also going to be the only person under 55 there by almost 30 years. But here’s what I really want to ask: what in christs name are you supposed to wear to an event like this, where you’re kinda flying on the assumption the majority will not be overly keen on trans folk and even a “cis woman” in a men’s suit is already drawing attention.

I’m a chronic thrifter, I’ve not bought anything not from the charity shop in years. So. I’ve got a few options: a lilac French cuff shirt and plain trousers and solid tie, a 3pc brown cotton suit, a white wool suit (black shirt and gold tie??), a plain linen shirt and trousers with a brown knit vest, or just go for it and forgo formality altogether and wear the most science class teacher Bill Nye setup I have? Your style is, to be honest, what I take a lot of inspiration from.

Sorry, I hate to bother with silly asks! But I’m quite nervous and travelling to a new part of the country for this. I love dressing in vintage clothes (or getting clothes to appear as vintage as possible) and I really want to put on a good impression! I feel if I wear solid browns I’ll blend in or even stand out more (6’1” with hip long black hair isn’t helping). Again, so sorry for asking especially since I don’t have photos and it’s really not your responsibility! Have a lovely day!

Howdy! I'll welcome others to weigh in, but "plain linen shirt and trousers with a brown knit vest," feels very academia to me and rather gender neutral. Also, fairly easy to pack and prep. But are there photos from past luncheons with this group? How do the speakers dress? I'm finding events like these getting more and more casual, though I can't speak for your industry.

I don't think it's silly at all to be nervous, and I hope the luncheon goes smoothly!

[ammstify]

Well, I was originally going to save post #200 for my reintroduction, but after seeing the news today, I want to use this post instead to let people know: If you're trans, I support you.

Today, on April 16th, 2025, the United Kingdom's Supreme Court ruled that transgender women are effectively no longer recognized under the Equality Act of 2010. This prevents all transgender women from having protections which are now only granted to "biological" cisgender women, which are defined by "being able to get pregnant".

Fucking gross, especially since there are cisgender women who CAN'T get pregnant.

Alongside that, the court now only recognizes "biological" cisgender women as being able to be lesbians, so if you're a transgender woman in love with a cis or trans woman? You are no longer considered a lesbian, and cannot be protected either, which now policies what sexuality you can define yourself as too.

Now, this doesn't affect me since I am neither transgender nor from the UK, but I know there are a few people here who it does affect. Many artists, writers, and even a few mutual's, all whose lives may change instantly because of this utterly ridiculous ruling.

And to those people? I'm sorry, and there's not much I can do but let you know that I support you and love you and hope you're all okay, especially as an American who's country may follow a similar path for our transgender citizens.

I'm also going to take the time to highlight of course the fattest elephant in the room: J.K. Rowling funded this.

Yep! Right now, the tawdry foul mouthed bigot billionaire spent over £70,000, or roughly around $92,000 USD, back in 2024, and has probably given even more money over the years, to one of the TERF groups that brought this case to the UK supreme court after being rejected by the Scottish one: For Women Scotland.

And of course, she is cheering and jeering because she's "oh so right" about this, and instead of minding her own fucking business like always, she takes the money from idiotic fans and uses it to once again try and drown out the rights of minorities she hates, but also cisgender women and lesbians too.

So as always, I'm gonna state this here:

If you read Harry Potter? Get the fuck off my profile. You're an enabler and bigot, who needs help, and I don't want to associate with you or your ilk.

If you support J.K. Rowling? Get the fuck off my profile. You're a disgusting trans-exclusionary radical feminist, that ruins the lives of gender non-conforming cisgender women, lesbians, and both transgender women and men, and I don't give a single crap about your "gender critical" bullshit. Shove it clean up your hole, turn around, and leave.

If you claim to be an ally but still buy and support Harry Potter products? Get the fuck off my profile. You're a hypocrite and you deserve to be ignored and forgotten instead of actually supporting the people to "claim" to, and maybe being ignored will make you realize why reading a stupid book is less important that helping those in need.

And if you're a TERF? Again, get the fuck off my profile. I don't support you puritanist bullshitters who believe that transwomen are apparently "men dressed as women to undermine women", or that transgender men are "just confused lesbians", or that I and my other fellow women are some "constant victim of the patriarchy" that're "uwu so small and demure and not strong."

I'm a strong demigender woman that supports my queer community, and whether you're gay, bi, pan, asexual, or otherwise, or transgender, nonbinary, demigender, intersex, or otherwise, you are safe here. You are valid, you are welcome, you deserve happiness and safety and a world where you can live and thrive, and I want that more than anything.

And I'm sorry that your lives over there across the pond are now at risk of these awful changes. The only thing I can do is spread the word and give support, and hope that the United Kingdom doesn't become a cesspit like my country is already becoming day-by-day.

Anyway, that's all I wanted to say. Post #201 instead will be celebrating 200 posts with a new introduction about myself, and hopefully more information about my future fanfics I'd like to post.

As always, be safe, be careful, and always remember that your joy, especially trans and queer joy, is the greatest resistance to their hatred.

[brazenautomaton]

The reason you think that conspiracy cranks have become Republican-aligned is that the Democrats legitimize their conspiracy cranks. The reason you think the Republicans are uniquely hypocritical is that you don't notice hypocrisy from your own side.

Both the worldviews of Marxism and feminism are paranoid conspiracy fantasies that focus on how everything in the world is the fault of a malicious conspiracy designed to spread suffering and prevent people from agreeing with the conspiracy theorist's views, but Democrats have been covering for and legitimizing them so that you don't notice anything unusual. The Democratic coalition contains many groups with directly opposed flavors of crazy or selfishness that it papers over with generalities. The stated worldviews and reasoning of Marxism and the Social Justice movement are completely incompatible, with completely incompatible visions of what power is and who holds it and how it is used, yet not only does the Democratic-leaning coalition hold both of those people, a shitzillion of them believe both at the same time! The police and justice system are all evil white supremacists and also should be given way more power to enforce mask mandates. People who think the prison system should be abolished because of how it imprisons innocent people speak alongside and sometimes are the people who think that any time a man is found not guilty of rape it represents a miscarriage of justice. The people who think that everything that might ever symbolically harm a woman's sensibilities represents a hateful assault on all women and the people who think that all religion is a tool of elite upper-class control immediately step aside to talk about how great and peaceful Islam is. All men are threatening criminals but all black men are innocent victims. We should bring as many immigrants as possible into the country and never build houses for any of them. Climate change is the most important issue facing humanity and we should never build nuclear power plants to alleviate it. The police will never protect you and will just murder you, but nobody needs a gun because they can rely on the police. Poverty is the most important issue facing humanity but money isn't real.

Stop observing human universals and then being surprised that only your enemies display them.

Towards a Unified Theory of Conspiracy Crank Politics

I've been thinking a lot about what seems to drive the person I will call, for lack of a better term, the conspiracy crank world-view, and particularly, my feelings about the great crank realignment.

A lot of people have said, "It seems like 30 years ago conspiracy weirdos were pretty bipartisan people, but now they all seem to be Trump loyalists."

My belief is that it's not that the conspiracy cranks became more right-wing; rather, it's that the Republicans have largely stopped being a right-wing party and are instead now a conspiracy crank party.

So, I've said this before, and I'm not well enough read in the history of conspiracy thinking to bring up old examples, but as a kid I subscribed to Skeptical Enquirer, and I remember quickly coming to two conclusions:

The reason a lot of the alien conspiracy X Files stuff is so interesting in fiction is that talented fiction writers have used it as a jumping off point to make an interesting story; the primary conspiracy literature is often very poorly written, not very inventive, and frequently openly bigoted, which leads into my second discovery,

A lot of times there is only one degree of seperation between "Big pharma and modern living has severed our spiritual connection to our earth mother Gaia" and "The Jews run the world with the aim of keeping the white race enslaved". Like, the far right conspiracy people were often really willing to ally with and break bread with the far left conspiracy people, and vice versa, in fact much more so then the more grounded parts of the left and right.

And I think that's because the conspiracy theorists have a kind of common mindset with certain shared features, regardless of the specifics of their conspiracy.

These are things that I have noticed as commonalities, and they aren't limited to conspiracy cranks; in fact, probably the vast majority of people have these habits of thought to some extent. My argument is that they are often abnormally strong in conspiracy believers.

Belief in a just world. A lot of fringe types have a really strong belief that the world is fundamentally just, and that in the ordinary course of things bad things do not happen to good people. Bad things only happen because a personified force arranged for the bad thing to happen. The example I've used before is slipping and falling off a ladder. Many of us would attribute such a thing to pure chance; some people will take it as evidence that a witch or a demon has cursed them.

An extreme difficulty with feeling out of control. It is hard for them to accept that in some circumstances they may not have control. Things which make them feel like they are no longer in control are very often interpreted as hostilities against them.

A severe difficulty in actually putting themselves in another person's shoes. Often, the conspiracy minded person is incredibly judgemental about others, and particularly, they really, really struggle with the idea that something might be easy for them, but difficult for someone else, or difficult for them, but necessary to help someone else.

Like I said, we all have these habits to some extent, I just think they are often magnified in the conspiracy crank.

As an example of what I mean by these thought patters, I am in the middle of a podcast reviewing a crank movie about how germs don't cause diseases. And apparently, in this movie, they first have a heroic interview with a restaurant owner who not only never required his patrons to wear masks, he actually banned any mask wearing on the premises.

Which is followed immediately by a scene of a person getting kicked out of a store for not masking, and talking about how it's incredibly shocking that what should be a matter of personal conscience is being enforced by the government.

And there's just no sense that there is any hypocrisy or tension here.

What I mean is, a principled libertarian might say, "Each individual business can require masks, or require you to take masks off, or have no policy, according to their individual decision, and we should allow them to make those decisions and abide by them."

Another principled position might be that we have extremely compelling evidence for the pandemic, and maybe certain kinds of policies should be temporarily enacted to slow the spread, even though they infringe on what would be, in ordinary times, important liberties, because they serve to protect the collective greater good.

Either of these positions sort of takes it for granted that a choice that I, personally, might not fully agree with might still be important to other people.

But the crank mindset says, "I don't want to wear a mask. So forcing people to wear a mask is an imposition on important freedoms. But since I'm already comfortable without a mask, forcing people to take their masks off isn't any kind of imposition on anybody's freedom, that's ridiculous."

You can see what I'm talking about most clearly in certain right-wing Christians. I've seen Christians say that freedom is exactly the same as following God's will, and that disobedience to God is a form of bondage and slavery.

These habits of mind are not, themselves, partisan; the can be applied to any cause, right-wing or left-wing. I might just have easily brought up "Free speech doesn't mean tolerating hate speech."

But I would argue that the reverse is not true, that you can build a political party that caters primarily to people with these habits of mind.

These people tend to flock to politicians who simultaneously promise a strong government which they can borrow to reassert their sense of control in the world, but the actual specific politics of that government are squishy and malleable.

The government has to be strong and able to domineer others because the conspiracy crank understands that they are in opposition to some large portion of the population, and so the government has to be strong enough to say, for example, "We will make sure that no private business will kick you out for wearing a mask."

When the world feels out of control, the government will lend you the tools to reassert your control over the world around you.

But the actual political goals of the government have to be extremely vague and malleable, so that they can move quickly to maintain the illusion that good people don't ever really disagree about this stuff.

A government which is coherently committed to a libertarian project might well say, "Sorry, those businesses have every right to decide who they cater to."

You have to be a weathervane, once a majority of cranks decide that vaccines and mask mandates are bad, you have to swivel and take that position in order to maintain a sort of illusion that whatever freedoms your crank audience wants in the moment are inherently sensible and that no sane person could disagree.

My argument is that Trump has turned the Republicans into the crank party, the party that signals to cranks that it will have their backs, whereas thirty years ago, the parties were still committed enough to coherent political goals that neither one could make that promise, and so cranks had to be politically idiosyncratic.

[thefabulousfab-3]

There’s nothing I hate more than people who don’t actually give a shit about Colin, shitting on Penelope in “defense” of him.

[angiiiiexx]

This pic is literally the foundation for all of my Wu and Lloyd headcannons and fics (ideas)

Them and their bond are so very special to me. Wu as the father figure. He literally loves Lloyd like a son. Just them

[foxx-queen]

thinking about the fragment of mythal's spirit finding flemeth. 'she was betrayed as I was betrayed'. morrigan confirming the version of flemeth's history that saw her living in poverty, sold by her husband to a lord who desired her. the parallels to the warden city elf origin. morrigan telling us it's easy to imagine how flemeth and mythal related to one another. 'betrayed by those sworn to love her'. mythals murder at the hands of her fellow gods, the figures that were her husband and children in dalish legends. 'mens hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature'. mythal being a fragment of who she was, split from herself, lost, and she 'clawed and crawled her way through the ages' to a woman betrayed and wounded and left for dead locked in the dark.

thinking about what that moment might've been like for both of them. flemeth lifting her head to a spirit reaching out to her. the fragment of mythal finding a place to rest in a soul that resonated with her. 'your grief must come later... in the dark shadows before you take vengeance, as my mother once said'. did flemeth mean mythal, when she spoke of her mother? was that something mythal said to flemeth in the moments before they became one? 'duty must come now'. duty to the world? flemeth carried mythal through the ages, nudging history when required, aiding and preparing the world for a reckoning she knew would come. 'considering what the world has done to me, I have already done more than it deserves'. the moments in history that could be read as mythal attempting to mend a world she helped to break, and wanting to protect the world that formed from what was broken from being destroyed all over again. she couldn't have done that without flemeth, who had no hand in breaking the world to begin with.

'i am but an old woman, whom the world has largely forgotten'. thedas as we know it wouldn't be there without flemeth. she was murdered, and solas painted her as an elf because he saw her as no more than a vessel for his oldest friend, and refused to acknowledge that he was murdering her too, because she was just a fragment. they'd lived for centuries as one person. kieran mentions that he feels lonely without the old god soul. it must've been lonely, watching and guiding the world as she did. maybe she doesn't hide that shes an old woman because of how the years might've weighed on her. 'regret is something I know well'. mythals regrets are never spoken of, because we never get the chance to hear them. would one of them have been burdening a mortal in such a way? or is that not something she could regret, because of how she came to her in the first place?

'regret that she would never see me again'. maybe it is a little jarring for players to hear morrigan speak of flemeth without all the vitriol we've come to expect. to hear something like sadness when we know what their relationship is like. but we saw flemeth's face when morrigan told her that she would not be like her, in her instant defence of kieran. it's been ten years since morrigan absorbed flemeth and mythals combined memories. she knows everything she's done and everything she's suffered, and how she might've felt about it all. all those regrets. sometimes we don't have to forgive the people who've hurt us to understand them. sometimes we love them despite it all.

[synchodai]

Pet peeve: I am so miffed by "Why are all the villains in BG3 men?" takes, because it usually involves downplaying the narrative importance and villainy of the female antagonists we do have. Sometimes they'll acknowledge Orin but actively ignore Mizora, Minthara, Z'rell, Viconia, Shar, the godsdamned Elder Brain. "But the Elder Brain isn't woman—" Look, if you classify the Emperor as a "man" in your gifset showing off all the male villains, I don't see why the Elder Brain can't be a woman.

[kawiarenkii]

i hate the whole idea of what a crush is that people have because what if i want to just be goofy and hold hands and FAKE FLIRT with my friends as a lesbian who isn’t interested in any sort of romantic relationship . does this make sense at all