#like they could have made the point they wanted to without making it a whole episode

[tikitakatia]

Escape — A. Putellas x Reader

"If You Like Making Love at Midnight"

WC: 5.7k

Summary: Smut. It’s been months since you finally reconciled but every time you try to get close, Alexia pulls back, so you plan a quiet weekend away and hope it’s enough to help her let go.

Pt. 1 , Pt. 2 , Pt. 3 , Pt.4 , Pt. 5 , Pt. 6

It had been months. 

Not that either of you were counting anymore, time had stopped feeling like something to measure after that night on the kitchen floor. After the couch, then the bed. After the promise. 

After the kiss.

These days, life had rhythm again. Not the same one it used to have, but a gentler, slower version that felt like it belonged to you both. A rhythm you built together.

Mornings meant Tofu climbing between your bodies at dawn, wedging his tiny goblin self into the warmest part of the mattress like he paid rent. One of you would groan. The other would giggle. Sometimes Alexia would mutter, “You’re lucky I love you,” while scratching behind his ears. He never said thank you. Just flopped over like jello and demanded belly rubs.

You made breakfast side by side now, hips bumping, hands overlapping. Sometimes you fed each other bites over the sink like teenagers. Sometimes she makes a face at your coffee and says, “You still drink it like an old man,” before taking a sip anyway. You bought her favorite yogurt again. She started keeping the cinnamon out on the counter.

Weekends meant long walks, Tofu darting between your legs as if he’d never barked at a bike rack in rage. Evenings were curled-up movies, your legs braided together under the blanket, your fingers tangled in hers. You’d stopped counting how many times she kissed the back of your hand without realizing she was doing it.

And at night?

At night, it was soft.

You held each other in bed like the world would disappear if you didn’t. You kissed slowly. You let your hands roam. You touched each other like worship, like every inch of skin was a secret you were still learning how to re-earn.

But.

Every time it went deeper, every time your kiss lingered too long, every time your palm slipped under her shirt or your mouth found her neck, Alexia pulled away.

Not violently.

Just… froze.

Her body would go still. Her breath would hitch. Then she’d shift back, whisper, “I’m sorry,” or murmur something like, “Not yet,” and disappear into the bathroom.

Sometimes she’d stay in there for ten minutes. Sometimes twenty. When she came back, her eyes were red but dry, and she’d climb back into bed like nothing had happened. Curl into you like the ache in her chest hadn’t just swallowed her whole.

You never pushed. Never pressed.

Because you could feel it. The guilt. The fear. The part of her that still didn’t believe she was allowed to be wanted like that again.

And God, you wanted her. Not just in the way that made you ache at night, but in the way that wanted to give her everything slowly, carefully, with your whole chest. You wanted to make her feel safe inside her own skin again. To remind her that you didn’t love her despite the past, you loved her through it.

But she hadn’t reached for that part of you since she came home.

And you were starting to wonder if she ever would.

Even Tofu seemed to notice the tension, his dramatic huffs every time she left the bed, his glare when she curled into you with her back instead of her face. He’d started sleeping at your knees again, always pointed toward the door like he was keeping watch. Like he was waiting for something to shift.

You were too.

Not for a fix. Not for a grand gesture.

Just… for her to believe that she could take all of you again. Not just the safe parts. And maybe, it was time to help her feel like she didn’t have to be the one to make the next move.

You decided to wait it out a little longer.

You let the quiet unfold, let the moments stay tender and small. You held her when she needed holding. Let her mouth trace the edge of your jaw without asking for anything more. But eventually, when the hesitations stopped being momentary and started becoming routine, something in you whispered: maybe she won’t let herself try until I do something different.

So you planned a trip.

You didn’t tell her at first. Just cleared your calendar. Researched for days. Something private. Secluded. Warm, but not stifling. Somewhere with a soft bed and a big porch. Somewhere with a coastline that glittered like it was trying to apologize for the rest of the world.

You told her two nights before.

“We’re going away for the weekend,” you said, sliding a hand over hers at the breakfast table.

She looked up, blinking through a sleepy daze. “What kind of away?”

“The kind with hammocks and lemon trees. No schedule. Just us.”

Alexia’s face softened in that quiet way it always did when she didn’t have the words yet. She squeezed your hand once and whispered,

“Okay.”

The drive was long enough for music and silence and a few soft jokes about Tofu’s car seat. He’d been dropped off at your friend’s place with his usual dramatic flair, sniffing the couch twice, peeing on the welcome mat, giving you both the stink eye like you’d betrayed him personally.

But by the time you got to the house, tucked behind a long row of cypress trees, just steps from the sea, Alexia’s eyes had gone wide with wonder.

“You did all this?”

You smiled. “We did. I just hit book.”

She kissed you for it. Not hungrily. Just grateful. Her lips were warm against yours, hands steady.

The days blurred in the best way.

You cooked together with the windows open, both of you barefoot, music playing low. She danced with you once, swaying slowly in the kitchen, a wooden spoon still in her hand, her nose tucked behind your ear. You sat on the deck in the afternoons, legs tangled, reading half a paragraph every ten minutes because you couldn’t stop looking at each other.

You lay in the sun and traced patterns into her stomach. She braided your hair sloppily, laughing when it fell apart. You passed a bottle of wine back and forth and talked about everything except the part you hadn’t figured out yet.

On the second morning, you kissed her with purpose.

Not rushed. Not pushing, but with your hands low on her waist, your body curved into hers like you meant it, and God, you did. You kissed her long enough that she moaned into your mouth, hands tightening in your shirt. But then, just as your fingers slipped under the band of her shorts, her body went still.

You felt it.

Like a shutter closed behind her ribs.

She pulled away gently. Her voice shaky.

“I’m sorry. I want to. I just...”

You nodded. Brushed her hair behind her ear. “I know.”

You kissed her forehead and stood. Gave her space. Took your book outside and let her breathe.

She came to sit beside you an hour later, her hand sliding into yours like an apology. You didn’t ask for the words. You just laced your fingers through hers and squeezed.

Later that afternoon, you rented a kayak.

Just one.

Alexia eyed it, then looked at you with an amused smirk as she held up the life vest.

“It’s been a while.”

You raised a brow. “Thought you could pull your own weight this time.”

She laughed: loud, warm, completely unbothered.

“Please. You loved doing all the work.”

You snorted. “I loved watching you lounge in the back like royalty while I steered us into a bunch of rocks.”

“And you still kissed me after,” she said, slipping the vest on and tugging the straps snug.

“Unfortunately.”

Her eyes sparkled as she climbed in behind you, legs pressing against yours, breath already warm at your neck. 

“You were obsessed with me.”

Still am, you didn’t say.

The water was calm, the sky wide and golden. Alexia for once, decided to pull her weight and paddled with an easy rhythm, one hand trailing lazily in the sea when she didn’t need it. Every now and then she leaned forward to point something out. A jellyfish, a cluster of rocks, the ridiculous flop of your sunhat, and every time she did, her chin brushed your shoulder like it belonged there.

“Do you think Tofu would hate this or love it?” she asked, dipping her fingers into the sea.

“Both,” you said.

“He’d bark at the water, fall in, pretend it was your fault, then demand a towel and a treat.”

Alexia laughed, bright and full. You let your head rest against her knee for a moment. Her hand drifted into your hair and stayed. The boat floated in silence for a while, just waves and warmth and the gentle sound of her breath above you.

You were careful not to kiss her here. Not yet.

When you came back to shore, sandy and sun-drunk, she looked like something had let go in her. Her smile came easier. Her limbs moved more freely. You handed her a towel and followed her back to the porch, both of you barefoot and salt crusting your skin.

Later, when the sun dipped just a bit lower, she stretched out across the lounge chair while you sat beside her with sunscreen in your hands.

“I got your back,” you said.

She hummed. “That’s a line.”

“Maybe. But it’s true.”

She didn’t argue. Just shifted so you could straddle the chair behind her, your knees on either side of her hips, the bottle cool in your palm.

You started slow.

Gentle strokes. Careful pressure.

Your hands slid across her shoulders, her spine, the small of her back. Her breath hitched once, then settled. You leaned forward and kissed the back of her neck, just barely.

And then, you felt it.

A soft, involuntary groan.

Low. Unfiltered. Pulled straight from the part of her she hadn’t let you near in months.

You froze.

So did she.

She twisted slightly, eyes wide, cheeks already flushed. “I´m sorry, I didn’t..”

“Hey,” you whispered, sliding your hands around her waist, anchoring her.

“It’s okay.”

“I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I liked it.”

She looked like she might combust. You kissed her shoulder, slow and warm, and leaned closer until your lips brushed her ear.

“Alexia,” you murmured.

“It’s okay to want this.”

She closed her eyes.

Nodded once.

And didn’t move away.

The sun dipped behind the horizon slowly, like even it didn’t want to leave. The last light bled across the sky in soft oranges and dusky blues, casting shadows across the white curtains and worn wood floors of the bedroom. The sea whispered outside. The windows were open. Everything smelled like salt, heat and lemon trees.

Alexia had barely said a word since the sunscreen moment. But she hadn’t left your side, either. You were both quiet through dinner. Not tense. Just... aware. Like the air had shifted. Like something was standing patiently in the doorway of the night, waiting to be invited in.

She showered first. You heard the water turn off. Heard her bare feet pad across the floor. When you stepped into the room, she was already in bed. Sheets folded neatly over her hips, her back to the door.

You dried your hair with a towel and watched her for a moment.

“Hey,” you said softly.

She turned her head, cheek pressed to the pillow.

“Hi.”

You let the towel drop. Crossed the room slowly. Climbed into bed beside her and pulled the blanket over your legs. You didn’t touch her right away. Just lay there. Close.

She reached for your hand and tangled your fingers together.

Her eyes searched yours in the dim light. “Can I say something stupid?”

You nodded. “Always.”

“I keep thinking I’m going to ruin it again.”

You shifted, your other hand brushing her cheek.

“You won’t.”

“I might.”

“Then we fix it. Together.”

Alexia’s throat bobbed. Her eyes went glassy. “I don’t know if I remember how to do this.”

“You don’t have to know,” you whispered.

“You just have to let me love you.”

Her breath caught. And finally, she leaned in.

The kiss was shy at first. Hesitant. Like she was asking a question she didn’t know how to phrase. Her lips brushed yours, then lingered. Just enough pressure to feel real, but not enough to carry weight. Her hand found the hem of your shirt, curled into the fabric like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

You didn’t rush her. Instead you cupped her jaw gently, your thumb stroking across the curve of her cheek to ground her. You pressed in again. Soft, steady, patient, and this time, she answered. A slow exhale into your mouth. A trembling inhale when your fingers traced the line of her waist.

You kissed her like you had all the time in the world.

Like you weren’t trying to get anywhere. Just be there.

Her body pressed into yours by inches. Hesitant at first, but growing bolder. Like she was remembering what it felt like to belong to someone without consequence. Her other hand slipped up, cupping the back of your neck, thumb brushing behind your ear. Her lips moved more deliberately now. Her tongue slid across your bottom lip, tentative, testing, and when you parted your mouth for her, she moaned softly into you.

That sound lit something behind your ribs.

Not lust. Not urgency.

Just... need. Pure and quiet and real.

You shifted, inching closer until your knee slotted between hers, until your stomach brushed hers with every breath. Your hands slid under the edge of her shirt, just to feel the warmth of her skin. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Her breath stuttered, but she stayed. Let you hold her.

Let you keep her.

The kiss deepened naturally, like the ocean does when the tide rolls in. Not all at once, not violently, but undeniably. Her mouth opened more fully, her body easing into yours like she’d forgotten how to brace for impact. You felt her fingers grip the back of your shirt tighter, like she didn’t want to lose the anchor. You broke away for a second to catch your breath.

Alexia’s lips were pink and kiss-swollen. Her eyes dark and wide.

“You good?” you asked, voice barely there.

She nodded, breathless. “I’m okay, yeah.”

You smiled. Pressed your forehead to hers.

“Good,” you whispered. “Because I want to keep kissing you.”

“Please,” she said, and her voice was equal parts shy and sure.

You kissed her again. This time, she moaned without hesitation. And when you shifted, rolling gently until she was beneath you, she didn’t hesitate. Only exhaled like she’d been waiting for this, for the weight of your body pressing her into the sheets, for the quiet safety of being held and wanted all at once. 

Her legs parted naturally, wrapping loosely around your hips, and her hands found your sides like they belonged there. She wasn’t trembling this time. Just breathing fast. Her chest rose and fell beneath you in little stuttering swells as your lips dragged slowly across her jaw, down the side of her throat, pressing tender kisses into the skin like you were thanking it. Her fingers clenched slightly in the hem of your shirt when your mouth reached the slope of her shoulder.

You paused. Rested your forehead against her chest, just for a breath. “Still okay?” you whispered, voice low and reverent against her skin.

She nodded quickly. Then slower. Her voice came quiet, cracked open and bare. 

“Yes. Just… Go slow?”

Your answer was a kiss to her collarbone.

You kissed lower, down her sternum, across the soft curve of her stomach. Her hands slid up your back as you moved, fingertips just barely brushing your skin, like she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to want more. When your mouth reached her waist, you let your thumbs trace a slow line beneath the hem of her underwear. You looked up.

“Can I take these off?” you asked, your voice just a breath.

She looked down at you with something raw in her eyes. Vulnerability, fear, maybe even a little disbelief, and then nodded.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“Please.”

You peeled the fabric down with care, kissing every new inch of exposed skin as you went. Her breath caught when the air met her, sharp and quiet, her legs tensing and then slowly loosening again. You settled between her thighs, your palms warm and grounding as they smoothed along the tops of them. You kissed the inside of her knee first. Then again. Then higher, and higher, until she let out the smallest, prettiest whimper. One you felt more than heard.

Her hands moved to your head, not pushing, just anchoring. Like she needed something to hold on to as your mouth met her.

The first touch of your tongue made her gasp. High, startled, involuntary.

You paused. Kissed her inner thigh. Whispered,

“It’s okay, baby. Just breathe.”

She made a sound like she was trying to say something, but all that came out was a broken little moan. You stayed slow. Gentle. Every movement of your mouth was deliberate. Loving. You wanted her to feel safe here. Wanted her to know this wasn’t about claiming her, it was about giving her back to herself.

She whispered your name like she didn’t know she was saying it. Over and over. A plea. A thank you. A prayer.

You felt her legs tighten around your shoulders, hips lifting into your mouth, and you held her with both hands, letting her move. Letting her chase it. Her fingers tangled tight in your hair, tugging when your tongue stroked just right. The sounds she made were beautiful. Soft, breathy and building slowly. She whimpered your name again, her thighs trembling and her breath catching on every exhale.

When you felt her start to break apart beneath you, you didn’t stop. You just pressed your hands tighter into her hips and murmured, 

“You can let go. I’ve got you.”

She came with a sharp gasp, her whole body arching into you, her legs trembling as her hands clutched at your shoulders like she might fall without you. The sound she made was soft, her mouth falling open, a long, shaky moan that fell apart into breath.

You stayed with her. Let her ride it out. Kissed her through it. Slowed down only when her grip on your hair softened, when her body slumped into the mattress like it had given everything up to you. When you finally looked up, her eyes were wet. Her lips parted. Her breath was shaky. She looked like she was seeing you for the first time all over again.

You kissed her thigh. Her stomach. The space over her heart.

“You’re so beautiful,” you whispered.

And for once, she didn’t look away. She just reached for you as her voice cracked around the edges, quiet and full of wonder. “I didn’t know I could still feel like this.”

Your heart clenched. You leaned into her touch, pressed a kiss into her palm. “You can,” you murmured. “You do.”

And then you let your lips trail up her wrist, her forearm, soft and slow, until you were kissing her again, mouth to mouth. This time deeper. Hungrier. Your hand slipped under her thigh, lifting her slightly, your body pressing into hers in a way that made you both gasp.

You pulled back just enough to speak, brushing your lips against hers. “Do you want more?”

Alexia’s eyes fluttered open. Her face was already flushed, but a deeper pink bloomed across her cheeks. “Yes,” she whispered. Then a softer and breathless “Please.”

It hit you low and deep. That voice. That look. Like she needed you more than air.

Alexia’s hands found the hem of your shirt first, fingertips trembling slightly as she pushed it up your back. You helped her, peeling it off and tossing it aside. Her hands ran along your sides like she was rediscovering something sacred. Her eyes flicked to your chest, then back to your face, and when you nodded, she leaned in and kissed the space between your breasts slowly with reverence. Like she wanted to memorize the way your skin tasted.

You tugged her top off in return, baring her completely, and paused just to look at her. God, she was stunning. Pink-cheeked, kiss-bitten, glowing in the low light. Her chest lifted in soft, uneven waves as she looked up at you like you were everything she’d ever been afraid to want.

You bent to kiss the slope of one breast. Then the other. Tongue slow, lips soft, just enough to make her sigh sweet and shakily, then curl her hands in your hair.

“I could stay here forever,” you whispered against her skin.

“Don’t,” she murmured. “Don’t stop.”

So you didn’t. You kissed your way down her stomach once more, letting your palms smooth over her sides to settle her, ground her. She was already open for you, legs parted, body relaxed in that beautiful, post-release haze. But as your breath ghosted between her thighs again, you felt her shiver, like her body remembered exactly what was coming and still couldn’t believe it.

You kissed the inside of her thigh first. Then again, higher this time, until you felt her shift beneath you, hips tilting just slightly, silently asking for more.

Her hands found your hair again when your mouth met her. The second time was slower, more decadent than desperate. Your tongue moved in patient, reverent circles, teasing her back toward that same edge with delicate precision. She gasped on contact, hips twitching upward, and you wrapped your arms beneath her thighs to steady her, keep her grounded as you took your time.

The noises she made were different this time. Looser. Bolder. She moaned without shame now, let her head fall back, let her thighs open wider. Her hands clutched at you like you were the only thing tethering her to earth.

“God” she whimpered, voice thin and high, “you’re gonna kill me.”

“You like it,” you murmured, lips brushing where she was already soaking for you. “You’re so sensitive, baby. So perfect for me.”

She answered with a helpless little cry and rolled her hips into your mouth. You let her chase it. Let her grind. Let her fall apart however she needed.

It didn’t take long. Her body remembered. Her blood remembered. And when you flattened your tongue and sucked just right, she came undone again with a broken, beautiful moan and your name tangled in it. Her thighs clamped around your shoulders, her back arched off the bed, and all you could do was hold on and worship her through every wave of it.

You stayed there kissing her, soothing her, whispering quiet things into the soft skin of her thighs as she trembled and sighed and eventually went still.

When you crawled back up to her, she was glowing. Skin flushed, lips parted, eyes heavy with something deep and aching. She looked at you like she could cry. Like she could laugh. Like she could kiss you for the rest of her life.

You kissed her chest again, over her heart, where it beat wild beneath your lips.

“I” she started, then laughed weakly.

“Jesus.”

You kissed her, slow and deep and tasting of her. Her hands slid to your back, pulling you closer like she couldn’t stand the distance anymore.

When you pulled away, you whispered against her jaw,

“You want to stop here?”

She shook her head. “No. Please, no. I want you.”

“Yeah?” you breathed, already curling your fingers gently between her legs. “Tell me.”

She moaned, low and shaky. “I want your fingers, please.”

Your whole body ached at the sound of it.

So you gave her one finger first. Slipped it in slow, gentle, coaxing. Her body welcomed you easily, still slick, still pulsing from the last release.You watched her face. The way her mouth opened, her brows knit, her thighs shifted.

“Still okay?” you murmured.

She nodded, whispering, “More.”

You slid in a second finger, scissoring slightly, letting her stretch around you.

“Oh, fuck,” she gasped, hips canting upward.

“That’s so. God, yes.”

You kissed her shoulder, her throat, her jaw. “You’re taking it so well. You feel so good, baby.”

When you added the third, it was slow. Her breath hitched, then broke into a moan that turned into something higher, needier. Her hands gripped your back, nails digging in, her legs wrapping around your hips.

“You’re so deep,” she panted. “I feel everything.”

You rocked your hand gently, curling your fingers just right, watching the way her entire body responded, arched, opened, begged. She was so wet, so full, so wrecked already, and you weren’t going to stop until she fell apart again.

And this time, when she did, it was louder. Her head tipped back, a choked-out cry tearing from her lips as she came again, gripping your wrist, her thighs shaking around your arm as you fucked her through it with everything you had.

She was crying by the time she settled. Quiet, overwhelmed tears, the kind that came with being seen, being held, being loved that deeply.

You kissed her cheeks. Her eyes. Her mouth.

“Still okay?” you asked softly.

She nodded, eyes shining.

Then she smiled.

“God,” she breathed, voice hoarse, lips swollen from your kisses, “you´re ruining me.”

You grinned against her skin, your mouth pressed to the rapid pulse in her neck, your fingers still slick with her. “Oh, baby,” you murmured, dragging your nose along her jaw. “I’m just getting started.”

She shivered beneath you, part anticipation and part desperation. Her hands gripped your back like she didn’t trust herself not to float away. You felt her nails scrape, not hard, just enough to make you feel it. Just enough to make your chest thrum with heat.

You kissed your way down her body again, worshipful. Each pass of your mouth was slower, wetter, more intentional than before. You kissed her breastbone, her sternum, the soft skin just below her ribs. She arched into every touch, her thighs already parting again without you asking.

“I need,” she started, then broke off with a whimper as your lips brushed the top of her thigh.

You looked up, mouth resting just below her hip. Her hands trembled where they hovered mid-air, reaching but not sure what to grab.

“What do you need?” you asked, soft and low, lips brushing her skin.

Her voice cracked. “I need more, need you inside. All of you.”

God, the sound of that. You felt it in your knees. In your spine.

“You’ve already had me, baby,” you said, sliding your hands up her sides.

“I just want to give you more.”

You moved slowly, crawling up her body to kiss her again, deep and anchoring, so she remembered where she was. That she was safe. That she was yours.

You reached for the harness then, slow and deliberate, not trying to rush the moment but letting her see it, feel it in the air. Your fingers wrapped around the base, the weight familiar, grounding. Her breath caught as you adjusted it, buckled it on like a promise you’d waited months to keep.

Alexia watched you like she’d never seen anything more beautiful. Her eyes were glassy, her thighs already twitching with anticipation. You ran your hands down her sides again, over the curve of her hips, and kissed her like it was the last thing you’d ever do.

“Tell me if you need to stop,” you murmured against her lips.

“Tell me if anything feels wrong. I’ll stop in a second.”

She shook her head, chest rising fast. “No, I want this..”

You lined yourself up, slow and reverent. One hand at her hip, the other guiding. You kissed her knee again, her thigh, every part of her that was open and trembling.

“Breathe with me,” you whispered, and she did.

And then you pushed in.

The first inch made her gasp, her hand flying to your shoulder. You froze, your hand steady at her hip, watching her face, every flicker of pleasure and stretch and disbelief written there like scripture.

“Okay?” you asked, your voice so low it vibrated between you.

She nodded, a tiny moan slipping past her lips. “More.”

You gave her another inch. And another. Her legs came up to wrap around your waist, heels pressing into the small of your back like she was pulling you in. Her walls clenched around the silicone, drawing you deeper. Her breath came in sharp, short little gasps, her brows drawn tight, her eyes fluttering closed.

And then when you were all the way in, when your hips met hers and your bodies were flush, she groaned.

Not a polite sound. Not a soft one.

No, this was deep. Ragged. From her gut.

It punched the air out of both of you.

Her arms wrapped tight around your shoulders, her mouth open against your neck as she tried to breathe, to survive the feeling of you inside her. You kissed the side of her face, her temple, her ear, murmuring soft nothings: I’ve got you, I’ve got you, you’re so good, you’re so perfect, this is what we waited for.

Then she did it.

She bit you. Hard.

Her teeth sank into your shoulder, sharp and knowing, and the groan it tore out of you was unholy.

“Baby,” you choked, rocking your hips into her once, slow, deep, devastating. “If you do that again, I don’t think I’ll be able to be as gentle as I want to be.”

She lifted her head just enough to look at you.

Flushed. Panting. Dazed.

And then, with the filthiest desperation you’d ever heard in your life:

“Good. I don’t want gentle. I want to feel it tomorrow.”

Your body snapped.

The thrust you gave her next was deeper. Hungrier. She cried out, loud and hoarse and so fucking wrecked and her legs squeezed tighter around your waist, anchoring you in place.

You fucked her like you’d been waiting your whole life to do it.

Long, steady strokes that kept her pinned to the bed. Each thrust angled to hit just right. The rhythm you set was smooth but heavy and filled with all the want you’d swallowed down for months.

Her voice was a constant moaning, whimpering and breathless gasps of your name,

“Yes, yes, right there. Oh my God, don’t stop”

Her nails clawed at your back. Her teeth found your neck again. You grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head, your hips not stopping for a second, and she howled.

“I’m gonna come,” she warned, voice high and thin and breaking apart.

“Fuck, I’m gonna”

You kissed her through it. Didn’t stop. Held her down and rocked into her over and over until she shattered.

She came hard, full-body, her back arching off the bed, her thighs shaking, her voice rising into something feral and cracked and completely undone. You slowed but didn’t pull out. Let her ride it out, let her hips twitch and grind and milk every last drop of the feeling.

Alexia collapsed beneath you with a shuddering exhale, her body still twitching with aftershocks. Her hands, which had been clenched in the sheets, fluttered weakly before one of them found your jaw and held it like she was afraid you'd vanish. Her mouth was parted, her eyes wide and glassy, her cheeks painted a deep, delicious pink.

And god, she looked utterly wrecked. 

Gorgeous and alive in a way that made your chest ache.

You didn’t move right away.

Didn’t pull out. Didn’t let go.

You just hovered there, catching your breath, your foreheads pressed together, your noses brushing every time one of you tried to inhale. Her legs were still wrapped around your waist, loosely now, like she hadn’t realized she could let go.

You kissed the corner of her mouth. Then her jaw. Then her cheek, just beneath her eye, where the skin was still damp with heat and sweat and something close to tears.

“Hey,” you whispered, voice ruined and tender. “All good there?”

Alexia let out a laugh that was mostly air and a little bit dazed hysteria. “No,” she whispered.

“God, no. I think I died.”

You smiled, dizzy with how much you adored her.

“You did. I saw it. Really tragic. I cried.”

“I blacked out at one point,” she murmured, brushing her fingers over your collarbone.

“There were stars.”

“There were definitely stars.” You grinned into her skin.

“Also, you bit me.”

She looked up at you, eyes narrowing. “You love it.”

“Maybe,” you said, cocking your head playfully.

“A little.”

She groaned and dropped her head back into the pillow, a loose, satisfied sound that warmed your entire chest. “I’m going to feel this for a week.”

“Good.” You kissed her again, slower this time, smiling against her lips. “You said you wanted to feel it tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” she said with a faint wheeze. “Not forever.”

You laughed into her neck and held her tighter. Let your hand drift down to where your bodies were still connected, resting there gently, protectively. Her breath hitched. You could still feel her heartbeat, fast, fluttering, right beneath your palm.

And then something shifted.

She exhaled. A real one. Deep, shaky, but steady.

Then she looked up at you clear-eyed. Centered. Like something had settled inside her at last.

“You didn’t just ruin me,” she whispered.

“You put me back together.”

Your throat closed around the words you wanted to say back. So you kissed her instead, deep and sure and full of everything you couldn’t say yet.

When you finally pulled back, she was smiling.

“You’re staying here,” she said softly.

You blinked. “What?”

“You’re not going anywhere tonight,” she said, like it was the easiest truth in the world.

“You’re mine. Here. Now.”

You dropped your forehead to hers.

“Always.”

You finally rolled onto your side, pulling her with you, wrapping every limb you could around her. You stayed just like that: bodies tangled, skin flushed, the ocean humming outside like it knew that it witnessed something holy.

Because it had.

You’d waited. You’d rebuilt.

And now, finally, she was yours again. Not just in your arms, but in herself.

In the part that used to say, not me, not like this. Now, she knew better. She knew she was worthy of all of it.

And you would remind her. Over and over again. Because this was love and this time it stayed.

Fin.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

I have some really important information that may concern you and a blogger on Tumblr that I think you might know of, or could be mutuals with…

This was an anon send in that can be found on this blog [censored, blogger doesn’t want people to mistake them being part of the drama, and does NOT SUPPORT the following bigoted beliefs]…

“Ew, you're collaborating with a white supremacist's best friend?

Just a heads up, but @fangdokja-anon has been called out by multiple authors here for being homophobic, fatphobic, and racist, as well as making multiple problematic posts (like wanting to write about genocide and infant SA). The only person who publicly supported her was @yanderedrabbles who praised her in the comments and even made a post to defend her friendship.

It's your choice to have her as a writer for the zine, but please make it public knowledge so people can at least opt out. I myself won't sign up to share space with a bigot.”

Then there was this follow up post by the same anon, who goes into detail of the issues above…

“Sorry for the sudden accusatory ask, I'm one of the people who unfollowed @yanderedrabbles after she openly expressed her support for the homophobe and I was annoyed to see her acting so careless on another blog I follow. I guess she's hoping we'll just forget about it at some point and keeps quiet on her main.

Here's the first post where she explained in many empty words she doesn't care about the issue because the blog has been nice to her and they're friends: https://www.tumblr.com/yanderedrabbles/780435897593315328/hi-idk-if-your-mutuals-with-fangdokja-but-shes?source=share

The problematic post on @fangdokja-anon blog has since been deleted or removed, but I have a screenshot of @yanderedrabbles commenting on it with ‘THATS why your pro pic went all blurry when I logged in. Literally freaked me out so bad. I'm glad to see you reorganising fang! Gonna learn to use AO3 just for you 😘’ while the rest of us were freaking out at the atrocities mentioned.

Instead of coming out and telling us why she chose to publicly support someone who fetishizes stuff like concentration camps and pedophilia she's all giddy about writing for a yandere magazine, like we're dumbasses who'll just swallow up any content. The audacity is amazing.”

Hopefully the last follow up post by the anon that goes into some more history/evidence…

“The post that started this whole drama is from December, but it didn't gain traction until some bigger blogs like ozzgin and moyazaika talked about it, which happened recently. It's still available and you can read it for yourself, including the paragraphs where she explicitly says she doesn't support LGBTQ+ content: https://www.tumblr.com/fangdokja/770117292416712704/blog-rules-guidelines?source=share

The main conclusion from it was that she's (@fangdokja-anon) homophobic, though more people pointed out she's made questionable statements in the past, too. It should've stopped there, but then she made a post basically explaining that she's been gathering an audience so she can switch to different platforms (her website and AO3), where she can finally write without censorship. It was an extremely cringe story about her ‘shackles’ coming off, listing a bunch of offensive topics from the Trigger Warning Database and saying that nothing is sacred and she won't hold back. (Yes, it included the part about children and infants not being safe from it) Same blogs called her out again and she proceeded to block everyone who interacted with those posts. I guess a lot of people reported her blog since it's now hidden and tagged as ‘mature’, for which she had a meltdown.

Anyway, friend (@fangdokja-anon) is against queer people but you (@yanderedrabbles) argue she's actually kind because you haven't been targeted? Suspicious, but I let it sit.

Friend (@fangdokja-anon) publishes entire paragraphs about wanting to write downright atrocious content and you (@yanderedrabbles) comment how excited you are for it? Yeah, that doesn't work anymore, sorry. You're clearly ok with it and that's fucked up. Go support your cult member somewhere else, not in my gay household.”

Since this all seems to be true, please reconsider any relationship you have with @yanderedrabbles and @fangdokja-anon

That's a lot to read and I do not follow these people.

[steelbluehome]

Thoughts regarding the Thunderbolts* credits scene under the cut

ETA: turned out to be a long rambling rant, you have been warned!

Tldr: Please don't be hateful to each other. Marvel is ultimately in it for the money, but your fellow fans are real people.

Okay, now I know that there is starting to be a bit of fandom discourse regarding the Sam and Bucky meeting that "didn't go well", the lawsuit, and the New Avengers.

Fine with me so long as it stays all in good fun. But before you decide which character is "right" or "wrong", and definitely before you go all in with the hate, remember that we don't know all sides yet. We don't know yet how the MCU is going to continue with this storyline, or if they even will, considering how many characters are going to be in Doomsday. It's possible that they just show up at a fight, nod at each other, and all fight together with everyone else, Endgame-style, without resolving anything.

But, sometimes, the facts in the comicbooks come into it, and the roster of the New Avengers, as found on Wikipedia, does not include most of the characters in Thunderbolts*. It includes Captain America and Sentry. But in the comics, team membership is more fluid. Members come and go. The idea that there can only be one team doesn't come up a lot. More often there might be a clash of who is the leader.

But the MCU is different. They need to have continuity, and the idea of belonging to a team, expressly telling a new member that "you are an Avenger now" has been given importance. So it is possible that the MCU does really want to make a thing out of this copywrite issue.

If the MCU goes that way, will the determining factor be that one team is backed by the government and one is not? If they try to re-hash the Accords debacle all over again, both Sam and Bucky were Team Cap, against the Accords. So would this bring them together, maybe under yet another name?

It seems to me that CA:BNW had a theme of proving yourself. And Thunderbolts* has a theme of found family. TFatWS, IMHO, had both themes.

With the mass amount of characters which have to be accommodated in Doomesday, I assume that if this is addressed at all, the theme will be more like the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

I would certainly enjoy many long, character conflict driven scenes of Sam and Bucky, but I really don't see that happening in Doomsday.

If it is going to somehow be a major part of the storyline in Doomsday, it is possible that there will be some sort of twist that we can't possibly see coming at this point.

For instance, I thought that the whole point of the entire series, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, was the end point, where Sam had decided that he could be Captain America without betraying his core identity, and that Bucky's core identity was a good man who could be accepted by other good people, not only Steve who knew him before he fell into the hands of Hydra. And I thought the final scene of them both together at a cookout with Sam's family and friends, where Bucky seemed to have been fully accepted, and was totally comfortable, was meant to show that they had each found what they were looking for in the support of the other, and that they were now in this superhero thing together. BUT then CA:BNW was released and Bucky was nowhere to be found. That made no sense, what WAS the point of TFatWS then?

BUT, they threw in a scene with a hug and an "I love you, buddy" which made me feel a little better about the situation. At least the good, supportive, friendship had survived and thrived, even if I still didn't understand why Bucky was campaigning for Congress instead of working with Sam. "Maybe it would become more clear in Thunderbolts*" I thought.

Well the joke was on me because no, if anything Thunderbolts*, with no mention or cameo of Sam whatsoever, only made things more confusing as far as the friendship between Sam and Bucky. And then Marvel really punched me in the gut with this argument between the two, and even a lawsuit being brought having to do with the team name.

So my point is, though argument and debate if respectful, are fine, and supporting your favorite, and even coming up with reasons that they may be right, or posts about what they may be thinking and why, are wonderful and creative, please refrain from bringing any real heat or hate into it, because Marvel can do some fucked up shit for no reason at all. Or for reasons that have nothing to do with what fandom thinks is important.

With any of those, ymmv, meaning I know not everyone will agree with my opinions, and that's okay.

Here are some idiot things that I think Marvel has done; not remaking a stand-alone Hulk movie with Mark Ruffalo, or at least putting some of Bruce Banner's background into one of the movies. Not coming out with the Black Widow movie sooner. Not making the Hawkeye series, or an independent movie, about Clint's Ronin period. Not continuing the Thor movies in the classical style of the original. Having Steve go back in time and stay there, which invalidated all of the Agent Carter series and the family Peggy had, as well as having him abandon Bucky. Not letting Tony and Bucky come to some kind of reconciliation. Zemo engineered that fight between Tony, Steve, and Bucky to happen just as it did, in order to tear the Avengers apart. They should have written a scene showing that they could work out their issues and not remain victims of Zemo's manipulation for the rest of their lives. They are smarter than that. At some point they should have seen through it and saw it for what it was. What was the point of Tony inventing BARF if he was still going to be a prisoner of past events? Why would it only be used once to show how Tony was still being affected by his parents' death and not used again to help him deal with this new information? Could it have helped Tony if Bucky was the subject of the memory and Tony could see how Bucky was either totally suppressed like a zombie, or actively trapped without any way to control his body or influence events. Did they really need to give Tony a wife and kid only to kill him off? He already heroically did something to save everyone that could have killed him twice before. Did he have to die to finally be seen as a hero? If they hadn't killed him off, there wouldn't be this division in the fandom over RDJ playing Doom now. They should have just recast Kang, instead of leaving the Loki series as a build up to nothing. (Okay, wow, that got super off on a tangent, and on to a rant!)

Writers, directors, actors, producers and editors all try to make a coherent project with certain messages. But sometimes the final product is seen quite differently by the audience. When there are several writers, directors, actors, producers and editors trying to create a coherent series of movies over several years, the chances of the differences in their intentions and the audience's point of view are greater with every film. Actors or characters emerge as fan favorites, and the company leans into that to the detriment of the group dynamics. Actors have chemistry that the company didn't count on, but the audience sees it and runs with it. If the fandom celebrates something that the company finds controversial, they may do nonsensical things or have characters written a different way in order to keep the fanon clearly delineated from canon. And, of course, the company does everything with the ultimate goal of making money. Anything else will be sacrificed to that goal. They don't care if they have to contradict themselves, ruin a character, invalidate a storyline, anything for the money.

So whatever Marvel eventually does regarding Sam and Bucky, know that it might be amazing or it might make no sense at all. So actively being hateful to eachother due to it is a bit reactionary. Again, debate, argue, state your opinions and your corroborating evidence, definitely. But don't try to ruin anyone over it. You don't need to try to run anyone off of the platform, or take your differences onto other platforms. Don't stalk each other. Don't try to take things into someone's personal or professional life.

There is always fix-it fic.

[quill-of-thoth]

So. Not a tanner or a cloth maker here but - tanning can be very chemically specific. For those curious my perspective is of an animal pathologist's assistant. I have cut up several cows.

You do have the opportunity to amass a lot of leather if you hunt large animals, but post the adoption of farming and herding, most people are not feeding themselves that way. And there is just more small game overall. Leather is not necessarily easier, quicker, or less expensive to make than cloth, it just depends on what resources you have that are most abundant.

So the steps to making leather are as follows:

(Under the cut because, uh. I know this stuff from my job, which is “open a dead animal and let the doctor see what’s wrong with it” and most of it is messy.)

1) Kill and skin animal. This means removing the whole skin, in as intact a piece as possible, which while harder than it seems would be something your fictional leather-working society would be way better at than me.

Actually, scratch that. Step 1 is know what kind of animal gets you the type of leather that you want. Cowhide and horsehide are thick and tough but provide a lot of usable skin. Young goats are supposedly great for thinner, softer leathers, but my professional experience doesn't give me a lot to go on there. The phrase "kid gloves" means that they are leather gloves made from young goats, aka kids, which tells you that the leather is thin and flexible. The main cost of this step is having enough of the animals you need to slaughter. If you’re hunting, then it’s all meat to you, but if you are a farmer pre-industrially, meat might be a byproduct of animal husbandry and not the point of it. One of the main reasons to keep a herd mammal – horses, cows, sheep, goats, llamas – is milk. Milk is liquid protein and once you figure out how to make cheese it can store for longer than meat can, at least without a fuckton of salt, which is often worth its weight in gold historically. (You could also smoke it but fuel is expensive and smoking things is technically a little trickier than salting them.) If you kill too many of your female animals, you don’t get milk, and you don’t get baby animals. If you keep too many male baby animals until adulthood, they start fighting and may injure you, your valuable female animals, or the structures you have built to keep your valuable herd animals in your possession instead of your neighbors. As a herder, your reliable access to meat and hides is mostly culling immature males from your herd, which tends to lead to smaller amounts of usable hide.

2) Scrape that shit. Harder. If you do not remove literally all the connective tissue beneath the skin, your hide will rot. Your hide may still rot if you don’t tan it properly or wait too long to tan it. Or if you tan it wrong by dumping shit in water and waiting for the magic of fermentation to work right without even knowing the difference between an acid and a base.

The scraping is also a great way to tear the hide or put holes in it. If you, for example, want to make leather out of a cow that has been lying around in the summer for a day because you wisely prioritized the meat… it can get kinda fragile, depending on what the bacteria do. I have to sharpen our 21st century steel knives literally every time we do a cow or a horse, just to get through the hide at all, and I have still seen cowskin tear like thin cloth if it’s deteriorated enough.

3) Assuming you have completed steps 1 and 2, you need the chemicals to tan the animal. Historically brains have been used a lot. DO NOT DO THIS if you are a modern person who wants to hunt for meat or leather. Prion diseases like CWD live in the brain, as do a lot of viruses that will kill or disable you painfully and slowly. It’s a relatively low risk (compared to things like accidents with your hunting gun) but it’s a risk you do not have to take. Yes, this is why some states want you to turn in the heads of any deer you shoot, regardless of how many points they have. This is part of how we tell you if the deer you shot is actually safe to eat, and not full of said viruses that will kill or disable you painfully. The other thing that you need is a steady location and a fuckton of water, because these bitches need to soak for a long time. Way longer than soak times for retting flax or other plant stem fibers. And in multiple different solutions of the foulest smelling shit that you can imagine: in addition to brains, the steps included soaking in urine, possibly dung if you didn’t have enough brains, salt curing, soaking until the hair is loosened and then scraping all that off, and then the actual tanning, which is soaking it in a high tannic acid tree bark solution until it’s ready. You can skip some of these steps, especially if you are, say, a paleolithic hunter gatherer. But your leathers will degrade faster. They will be less comfortable and less good for your range of motion. So the production of leather is not necessarily less time consuming than cloth. It is also resource expensive at many steps – from start to finish you need animal wealth, mineral and plant resources, time, and a lot of water that you don’t need urgently for something else, like irrigation or watering your livestock. You’ll also want to do your tanning away from where you eat and sleep, because, the odor of fermenting cowhide is not fun. Finally, it is way more difficult at every step to construct a garment out of leather: cutting it, using an awl to punch holes in it so you can actually sew, or boiling it into shape. It’s also a specialized process when it comes to the chemical aspect, more so than cleaning wool or beating flax, both of which you can produce way more of (eventually) as a small household in the middle of nowhere. Spinning and weaving are both activities you can pick at slowly – you can also get a very small child to spin yarn acceptably with practice, freeing up your adult hands to do things like the weaving, while you really can’t bring your tots into your leather working and expect them to do anything but get underfoot. And shitty cloth smells way better than shitty rotting leather. And none of this even scratches the surface of the material property reasons why a society may prefer leather for some applications (saddles, shoes...) and cloth for others.

@lingerie_addict has a really cool thread on ancient fashion over on twitter.

Those source links are here

cambridge.org

Youtube

ucl.ac.uk

[angelsdean]

Sam closing the bunker is not just bad writing it’s bad writing FOR SAM. Sam was always trying to make the world a better place and that’s a big part of his journey… believing that he CAN do that despite Azazel and Lucifer and the demon blood, etc. Now he has this incredible resource that could help so many people and… leaves it to gather dust. Even if he was leaving the life I cannot believe Sam would do that. I have no idea why so many Samgirls act like the finale was good for him. Even his “life” post Dean shows absolutely nothing that happened to him was important other than the fact that he named his son after his brother who died on a piece of rebar. No pictures of his family who he spent the great majority of his life with. We don’t even know who he married! This isn’t even showing without telling it’s more like hand waving away Sam’s life as a whole. I tend to think Dabb found a shit fanfic on Wattpad and chose it as his inspiration because nothing in the finale makes sense except as parody of the fanbase. It was designed to appeal to the lowest common denominator and as a Samgirl I was disgusted by it. Sorry for the rant…

100% agree! The finale was a disservice to every single character, including Sam! I don't know how any Sam fan could be happy with that ending or think that late seasons Sam even WANTED that kind of life anymore. Personally I don't think he even wanted it all that much in the earlier seasons either. By season 2 he was already saying he wanted to stick with hunting to honor John's "legacy." Sure that was partially fueled by grief but I really do think Sam enjoyed hunting, especially the lore and research (they don't call him loreboy for nothing!) he just wanted to do things on his own terms and his form of "rebellion" against John as a teen meant rejecting hunting, but I don't think it's the hunting he ever had an issue with, it was John's authority.

Anyways, point is Sam always wanted to be a leader and in the later seasons he really enjoyed mentoring other hunters. He and Eileen (and/or Rowena) made a great team and I can't see any reason why he wouldn't continue to be in the life and help others. Even if he wanted to retire from hunting (tfw all deserve to REST forever) I can still see him helping other hunters with research. And we know from the fact that Dean Jr has an anti-possession tattoo and from SPNWin telling us that Chuck had fail-safes in place to wreak havoc that there are still supernatural threats that need fighting. So there's still work to do.

There are many reasons why I think Dean's death is stupid and was completely unnecessary and one of the main reasons I think he "had" to die (aside from the fact that they could not keep him alive without addressing the Cas-shaped hole in his life) is that otherwise there would literally be NO reason for Sam to go off and have that fake apple pie life. They use Dean's death as a plot device to make him "promise" to move on (similar to how Sam did this to Dean in s5, telling him to go live with Lisa and Ben). It's a flimsy excuse to make Sam's ending "work" but it doesn't really work at all and is so incongruous with Sam's later seasons arc.

And yea, once he has this supposed "happy ending" it's still....so sad and devoid of anything real. He's living a lie. He doesn't seem to have moved on from Dean's death at all. He's still mourning Dean as an old man. He has the Impala gathering dust. He names his kid after Dean, which to me just signals less of an "honoring" and more of "stuck in the past." No photos of his new family like you said. It's just DEPRESSING. Sam deserved better. LIKE, even if you want to do a tragic ending, I think MY version where he goes to Hell after Dean dies to be with Rowena and lean into his darker side in his grief is so so much sexier, fun, and interesting than sad pathetic party city wig Sam.

[42dragonsarecooler]

For my favorite alt hermit I picked Hotguy. That whole bit Scar did was just way too much fun. I love seeing little minecraft people randomly explode in a single hit. It's objectively hilarious to me. So here's Hotguy.

Every season all the hermits would get together to customize their elytra. Well all the ones without wings of their own at the very least.

Usually most of them went for a good traveling pair. Not particularly fast, but broad and stable, good for distance and slow gliding when needed to check out their builds from the air. But Scar had something else in mind this season.

He looked up to see Grian swoop overhead at high speeds. Of the flighted hermits, he was by far the fastest. False's eagle wings were strong but slow, unless she was diving. And Impulse's wings, at least as long as he was in his human form, functioned more like elytra anyway. They weren't enough to get him off the ground without the help of rockets.

Grian's flight was unmatched.

Scar wanted to challenge that.

That season he made his elytra small and angled. They were sturdy and rigid, ready to handle the paces he wanted to put them through. He pestered Cub into making him some stronger rockets to boot.

All that was left was practice.

He knew even with his special made elytra, he probably wouldn't be any match for Grian once he got in the air. So naturally he'd just have to kill him first. Strike before he even knew he was there.

And a move like that, well that deserved something special.

He painted his elytra, careful to keep the paint even so as not to throw off their balance. Then he stitched himself a matching jacket. And Ren was all too happy to show him how he made his sunglasses so he could make a two tone pair for himself.

As a final touch he carefully painted the name onto his heavily enchanted custom bow. All that was left was to find the pesky bird.

The glasses were a great addition to the costume, blocking the wind from his eyes at the blistering speeds he could get to with his new rig. Suddenly False's goggles made a lot more sense.

It didn't take him long to find his target. Grian was near his base, rifling through his ever present chest monster.

"Perfect." He muttered to himself dramatically, voice torn away on the wind. "Target in sight."

He lit off another rocket, flying up higher until it ran out. He leaned back, allowing his momentum to carry him around in a small loop before he was diving again, his elytra doing little more than keeping him stable in the air as he fell.

He readied his bow, arrow pulled back taught. He took aim as his target grew in his vision with his rapid approach.

"Hotguy!" He cried as he loosed the arrow.

Grian was shot by GoodTimeWithScar using hOtgUY

He pulled back immediately trying to send himself back up into the skies. But his momentum was too much.

"Oh shoot."

He crash landed, careening through the chest monster, sending chests and shulkers and their contents flying in all directions. He finally came to rest and rolled onto his back. He was still laying in the mess.

Grian was laughing hysterically, now respawned nearby. Scar couldn't help but join him as his friend picked his way through the wreckage.

"Scar what was that?"

"I'm not Scar, I'm Hotguy."

"Oh obviously." Grian took in his new 'disguise'. "Cool jacket."

"Why thank you." Scar preened.

"You need a flying lesson though." He teased.

Scar sputtered a moment before mustering some composure. "Why I think I flew quite well. Thank you very much."

"Landing lesson then?" Grian spread his arms at the wreckage around them. It wasn't like it was any more disorganized now than it had been pre-Hotguy. But the point still stood.

"Sure sure." Scar waved a hand. "Hey, you could be my side kick! You could be… Cuteguy!"

"Right. Sure…" Grian smiled at his friend's enthusiasm knowing full well, whatever Scar came up with, it would always be a Good Time.

[lies-unfurl]

On Thunderbolts*

I honestly don't know how to rate this. I feel like if I was a casual fan, it would be a solid 8/10, but obviously I'm not that. It was a tight story that cohered well and had some strong character dynamics. It also had issues, particularly with regards to how it related to the larger MCU, that I have a lot of thoughts on.

What I liked:

Yelena. Just in general.

More specifically, the way Yelena's depression was portrayed resonated with me a lot, mostly in ways that I don't feel like discussing in a movie review on tumblr dot com.

I honestly don't know how anyone could watch this and come away thinking John did nothing wrong, lol. Props to Wyatt Russell for playing him so unlikable.

I generally enjoyed the character dynamics. The scene in the back of the truck where Yelena and Ava were making fun of John's guns worked really well.

Overall, besides literally the last minute before the credits, the story felt like it was put together well. The pacing worked and events flowed in a way that made sense.

I liked Val as a villain, though I wish we'd get more of her motivations.

The scenes inside the Void were really cool. The second one with Yelena and her younger self was one of my favorites in the whole movie.

I obviously want Bucky to survive Doomsday, but if he goes out, at least he's got a banging costume and hairstyle for it.

What I want to be a hater about:

I have mixed feelings on Bucky's role in this. I think it makes sense for him to be in a more stable place than the rest of the group. My overall issue is that we're given no info whatsoever on how he went from TFATWS to where he is now. With Yelena, I can easily see how her character moves from Hawkeye, where we saw her last, to now. Ava, idk, sure, it's not explained how she ended up working for Val, but I can see how Val would take advantage of someone who has her abilities and probably not a lot of other job prospects. But Bucky? There's just nothing to foreshadow him going into politics in TFATWS. If the end of TFATWS sets up anything, it's him and Sam working together in the future. So how did we get here? Like, I do genuinely think it's kind of funny that the MCU didn't even try to explain things, but it's also bad writing. And yeah, I do wish we'd gotten more of Bucky. idk. It's an ensemble film, but they could have inserted a Void sequence for him without fucking up the flow too bad. Also, he just looks so unhappy for most of the movie, and I want to know why! Just the circumstances? The fact that he really hates politics? SebStan not enjoying himself? idk.

The pacing worked; the timeline didn't. How the fuck did Alexei get from NYC to Utah overnight in that limo. (Bucky maybe flew himself and his motorcycle in, but Alexei obviously didn't.)

I don't like Alexei in general. I feel like the movie missed a chance to reckon with his responsibility for what the Widows went through by just treating him as either comic relief or a supportive father for Yelena.

It was also a little weird that no one mentioned Melina?

I'm ambivalent about Taskmaster's death. I'm not that mad about it, but part of me feels like it was done mainly to appease the fanboys angry about her not being Tony Masters.

Bob was fine? idk, I didn't feel too strongly about him one way or another. I see some people in the tags blorbofying him, which isn't surprising, but... I just keep thinking about how he was supposed to be played by Steven Yeun. And I know Sentry was white in the comics, but sorry, it's a little weird to me that they replaced an Asian-American actor with a white guy. Val's whole thing with dyeing his hair blond would've hit much differently.

We should've gotten a Sam mention before the post-credits scene. It makes no sense for Val to say there are no superheroes around when Sam has been Captain America for years at this point, and he's been working for the government! When you pair that line with the implications of the hair dye, with apparently no one remembering that there are existing heroes who work for the government, it's... telling. And that's something that could've been brought to the forefront more by just having someone remember that Sam Wilson is Captain America.

I already wrote my thoughts on the post-credit scene, and they haven't really changed upon seeing the movie. That said, I do feel like the ending undermines the movie somewhat by falling into the same old trap where every MCU movie is an advertisement for the next movie. It just like... doesn't work? for Yelena to have the "We own you" line, and then the end credits and the PCS all confirm that actually, no one respects the New Avengers, so like... what's the point of them working with/for Val. And this will probably get expanded on somewhat in Doomsday and/or Secret Wars, but the casts for those movies are so bloated, I'm not sure how much consideration that element will get.

So, yeah. I don't know. I think it was a good movie on a technical level, but as a (reluctant) MCU fan, I don't know how much I enjoyed it. I feel like I can't form a full opinion because it ultimately doesn't feel like a movie that stands on its own; it's going to depend on how upcoming movies contextualize it.

[gluttonousgoddess]

Friendly reminder, one of the key reasons people used to perform witchcraft was it was very open-ended. You could generally use whatever you had on hand. Even nothing but energy and words.

You don't need a bone wand. You hardly need a specific wooden wand. I've had success with a broken antenna, a random stick I found in the moment, and...a plastic knife. Seriously. It's just a conduit for your energy and a symbol of intention. Having a specific material might add symbolism, but you don't NEED it.

You don't need sage to clean a space. Water is fine. Salt is fine. Hell, just literally clean the room. It's not rocket science. Hell, a paper fan can do the job. That's how shide work. Hell, practice forcing energy out with your own energy. Practice casting a circle using nothing but your energy and willpower. Do you really think you'll have these cleansing materials with you all the time?

Crystals are pretty, but you can get by with other stuff. Some crayons. Ink. A lot of gemstones are used purely for their color. Honestly color is probably better than the herbs and spices people cultivate too much of, as the symbolism is more obvious.

You don't need some exotic animal's blood. I assure you, other drinks are perfectly acceptable. Why do you even want blood? If it's for painting, just use red paint. Chalk. It's not that complicated. If it's a ceremonial drink, I assure you, most deities would prefer wine or even just water. And remember, your body is a temple, and you're the deity it's made for. Don't pollute it with the germs of some random animal. If you absolutely must drink blood, have a steak or something.

Also, don't be afraid of substitutions. Some vegan spell says to use agave nectar? Honey will most likely work even better. If you absolutely must use vegan stuff, people have used olive oil for the same exact stuff, and plenty more. A spell says to use cinnamon? Why? If it's for wealth, use a coin or some gold glitter or something. If for courage, use whatever you associate with courage. Red, gold, maybe some liquid courage, it's all viable. Potion requires sugar but you're diabetic? Sugar is oftentimes used either because it will fatten you up, or is there purely to make it taste better. For the former, maybe just don't make that potion? For the latter, you can definitely do without, but no guarantee on the taste. Honey, again, is also a natural sweetener.

But yea, seriously, the whole point of witchcraft is to give the lay person power. You don't need exotic materials, and you definitely shouldn't be hunting down endangered animals.

If your witchcraft requires the use of endangered or threatened species and cultural appropriation, it is not witchcraft. It is trophy hunting and colonialism.

About 15,000 medicinal plant species may be threatened with extinction worldwide from over harvesting.

[youryanderedaddy]

I have some really important information that may concern you and a blogger on Tumblr that I think you might know of, or could be mutuals with…

This was an anon send in that can be found on this blog [censored, blogger doesn’t want people to mistake them being part of the drama, and does NOT SUPPORT the following bigoted beliefs]…

“Ew, you're collaborating with a white supremacist's best friend?

Just a heads up, but @fangdokja-anon has been called out by multiple authors here for being homophobic, fatphobic, and racist, as well as making multiple problematic posts (like wanting to write about genocide and infant SA). The only person who publicly supported her was @yanderedrabbles who praised her in the comments and even made a post to defend her friendship.

It's your choice to have her as a writer for the zine, but please make it public knowledge so people can at least opt out. I myself won't sign up to share space with a bigot.”

Then there was this follow up post by the same anon, who goes into detail of the issues above…

“Sorry for the sudden accusatory ask, I'm one of the people who unfollowed @yanderedrabbles after she openly expressed her support for the homophobe and I was annoyed to see her acting so careless on another blog I follow. I guess she's hoping we'll just forget about it at some point and keeps quiet on her main.

Here's the first post where she explained in many empty words she doesn't care about the issue because the blog has been nice to her and they're friends: https://www.tumblr.com/yanderedrabbles/780435897593315328/hi-idk-if-your-mutuals-with-fangdokja-but-shes?source=share

The problematic post on @fangdokja-anon blog has since been deleted or removed, but I have a screenshot of @yanderedrabbles commenting on it with ‘THATS why your pro pic went all blurry when I logged in. Literally freaked me out so bad. I'm glad to see you reorganising fang! Gonna learn to use AO3 just for you 😘’ while the rest of us were freaking out at the atrocities mentioned.

Instead of coming out and telling us why she chose to publicly support someone who fetishizes stuff like concentration camps and pedophilia she's all giddy about writing for a yandere magazine, like we're dumbasses who'll just swallow up any content. The audacity is amazing.”

Hopefully the last follow up post by the anon that goes into some more history/evidence…

“The post that started this whole drama is from December, but it didn't gain traction until some bigger blogs like ozzgin and moyazaika talked about it, which happened recently. It's still available and you can read it for yourself, including the paragraphs where she explicitly says she doesn't support LGBTQ+ content: https://www.tumblr.com/fangdokja/770117292416712704/blog-rules-guidelines?source=share

The main conclusion from it was that she's (@fangdokja-anon) homophobic, though more people pointed out she's made questionable statements in the past, too. It should've stopped there, but then she made a post basically explaining that she's been gathering an audience so she can switch to different platforms (her website and AO3), where she can finally write without censorship. It was an extremely cringe story about her ‘shackles’ coming off, listing a bunch of offensive topics from the Trigger Warning Database and saying that nothing is sacred and she won't hold back. (Yes, it included the part about children and infants not being safe from it) Same blogs called her out again and she proceeded to block everyone who interacted with those posts. I guess a lot of people reported her blog since it's now hidden and tagged as ‘mature’, for which she had a meltdown.

Anyway, friend (@fangdokja-anon) is against queer people but you (@yanderedrabbles) argue she's actually kind because you haven't been targeted? Suspicious, but I let it sit.

Friend (@fangdokja-anon) publishes entire paragraphs about wanting to write downright atrocious content and you (@yanderedrabbles) comment how excited you are for it? Yeah, that doesn't work anymore, sorry. You're clearly ok with it and that's fucked up. Go support your cult member somewhere else, not in my gay household.”

Since this all seems to be true, please reconsider any relationship you have with @yanderedrabbles and @fangdokja-anon

This person @moyazaika goes into more lengthy detail too of what @fangdokja-anon writes and supports. And remember, @yanderedrabbles also supports @fangdokja-anon

Oh my! Thank you for telling me about this, I had no idea. They will be blocked. This behavior is disgusting - I scanned some of their page now and noticed they posted some really questionable things (like reader only being pale and skinny? lmao yikes). Homophobia or any type of hatred is not something I can accept or stand by.

And to be completely frank and transparent, I wasn't exactly thrilled to be tagged in their mega-recommendations post. I felt like my work was being reduced to just erotica or porn, which honestly hurt me a bit, and to be broadcasted and compared next to other blogs (without being asked first or anything) in the way they did, as if putting us in excel sheets... yeah. But anyways, thanks for bringing this to my attention. time to get even gayer :33

[fruitsywriting]

Talking about Mark, Amber and Eve in Invincible:

This isn’t to hate on the show in any form, it’s a minor critique as I love to dissect and discuss parts of shows that I love. This is meant for me to rant into the darkness of the abyss, and maybe it’ll talk back to me.

Spoilers for Invincible- but just the show. Not the comics.

First off, I like Amber and I think people overhate her. I’m a firm believer that you are allowed not like a character and not have a reason, though usually your dislike will come from Something, because it’s your opinion. Where the problem begins, to me at least, is when you’re attacking anyone who like the character or have to be like “well I don’t like them” whenever they’re brought up in a positive way. Hey, how about this? Lemme talk about this character for one second without bringing up the fact you don’t like this character. Thanks! 🙏🏽

Amber meant a lot to me, when I first started invincible the first time- I was excited to see a black girl be the main love interest (as a black woman yk). I could tell by the way they were setting up she was about to be the disposable black girlfriend but I was in denial. (I could go on a whole rant about the treatment of black women in media and I might soon) At that time, I didn’t even finish season 1, or I don’t remember finishing it but I didn’t continue the series because I didn’t like gore. I finished season 2 and 3 this year and I do have to say I saw it coming. Mark and Eve getting together, and I will not lie- I was disappointed. I will say maybe my bias for Amber will cloud what I’m about to say but I also think I would’ve thought this regardless.

I don’t like how Mark and Eve’s relationship has turned out. I like all three of these characters- even when their actions get on my nerves. Season 3 made Mark and Eve feel unlikable to me. Maybe it’s whenever they’re together but still. A lot of what Mark and Eve were doing this season was having sex, and barely communicating further than “it’s not your fault” if that makes sense. It’s not like they don’t talk, period. They talked season 1, perhaps even season 2. Season 3 however Eve felt like a Yes Man to me, or more so just her comforting him for a bit before they have sex. That’s not a problem, but when you compare how Amber and Mark bonded in their relationship before they even had sex together it made me wish we had that in a way. It felt rushed, and I heard it’s because they cut a lot of the romance from the comic but it’s also why I think they should’ve had a gap before he got with Eve because it just FEELS RUSHED.

Now, for the moments that pissed me off the most. When Eve broke her leg and was in the hospital and he didn’t leave her side. I understand it’s not a typical break but him not leaving her just pissed me off. I understand that he might not make the best decisions at this age, but me being the same age, I’d be more worried for my brother and mother out there- like Cecil said. Then Cecil said Eve wouldn’t like that he was there the whole time, Mark said “I don’t care”. Don’t piss me off. PLEASE, could they have used this plot point because I guaranteed Eve WOULD have been pissed. In season 1 when Mark got dumped and didn’t want to help, she scolded him for it. She said she would rather save lives than pout like how he was.

And Rex’s funeral. They definitely fucked that up, because why was Rae the only one sad? I mean, Eve was, but that went down the drain when Mark was smiling and shi and then they fuck. “I’m just glad you’re alive” HUH. Brotha, someone you knew just died! And you two seemed to be friends in season 3 like huh????? I am a sucker for family dynamics, like Arcane, so when he seems to put Eve above his family I’m ngl it pmo.

And back to Amber, I loved her because of how fierce she was, the ability to stand up for herself. She reflects Debbie but certain fans don’t wanna hear that. Not saying Eve is a doormat by any means, she’s strong (even though the show constantly is nerfing her for Mark to be stronger), and was able to stand up for what she thought was right. I love Eve, just not whenever she’s with Mark, romantically at least. And I like Mark, except for when he’s with Eve. And I love Amber, period. I agree with all her points in season 1, talk to a wall about it if you don’t because I’m not changing my mind.

Anyways, I’m just screaming into the void so this doesn’t bother me that much anymore lol.

[braidedhades]

Submas fanfic idea I want to share but am too lazy to write right now.

The Mad King of Unova!

(Prepare for an essay, I said I’m lazy, but also… yeah sorry)

I’ve only ever played Legends Arceus, so I’m not completely caught up on the Black&White lore, but I know there were twin kings who found the Original Dragon, then the twins fought and made the dragons split into Reshiram and Zekrom with Kyerum left over, or something. And I thought, are there other kings? (Yes, I think there should be)

An idea I’ve been playing with is this one where each generation, Reshiram and Zekrom are through to bless a pair of twins, to be their “champions” or something. Whether or not this blessing is actually real in this au is up for debate. The twin kings who befriended the original dragon are said to be the first to carry this blessing, and that’s the reason they were the first kings of Unova. In the modern era, this blessing is basically ignored and unimportant. In the past era, at the time Legends Arceus take place, those who have this blessing are said to have the divine right to rule, divine right of kings or whatever. So! The pair of twins who have the blessing are made the monarchs of Unova. In the time between the old monarchs die and the new twins are found, a council of nobles selected by the monarchs rule in their place. They also rule when there are sitting monarchs, as the monarchs are basically figure heads in this setup. The descendants of the monarchs usually become rich noble/upper class families.

Now, this “blessing” from the Twin dragons also comes with a lot of superstitions. One, the twins lives are linked. If one dies, so will the other. Two, if separated, the twins will slowly go mad. A literal interpretation of the saying “Truth without Ideals creates cruelty, Ideals without Truth creates madness,” as the twins blessed by the dragons are supposed to be the human embodiment of Truth and Ideals.

Now the plot! Emmet and Elesa somehow end up in past Unova with two Pokémon each (Eelektross, Chandelure, and the two Emolgas). Elesa becomes a tailor/seamstress and Emmet becomes a cowboy/bounty hunter who hunts Pokémon. They also catch and share a Zebstrika for travel purposes since there are no trains yet. They know Ingo is in this time period, but they don’t know where. Someone declares Emmet is blessed by Reshiram, and therefore is the next king of Unova. At first people assume that Elesa is his twin (they establish themselves as siblings here in the past), but they clear that up. Then people start freaking out because, oh no if the king is separated from his twin that means they are slowly going insane! (This is complete bullshit of course, Elesa can vouch that Emmet hasn’t gotten more insane, this superstition is completely false, but no one believes her).

So Emmet becomes king of Unova and Elesa is princess! Emmet’s specific flavor of acoustic rizz makes him blunt, straight to the point, and lack social awareness sometimes. He had just barely learned the social rules of his own era before being flung to the past, where the rules are different. Not very different at the working class level, but it’s a complete new world when he gets to the upper class level. As a bounty hunter, he could easily get by with this. But as a king, this makes people see him as an asshole so he quickly gains a reputation for being “cruel” especially because of the whole superstition nonsense. Emmet doesn’t care, the only thing he does as king is pour money into looking for Ingo. He lets the council of corrupt politicians rule in his name, and they utterly abuse this, making Emmet look like a greedy king and this would eventually be a point at which historians could identify as a turning point and the spark that led Unova to revolution and abolishing the monarchy. Thus, Emmet is named the Mad King of Unova. Elesa on the other hand, while normally great in social situations, struggles to navigate upper class society of this era, because the rules have suddenly all completely changed. She can easily adapt, but the upper class elite are ruthless and petty. She decides to say fuck it and lean into Emmet’s reputation for being “mad” and introduces modern clothing styles a century or two early. This makes her gain the reputation of being vain and an idiot :(

Eventually Emmet hears word that Ingo might be in Hisui, so he jumps on the nearest ship and commands them to set sail. He leaves Elesa in charge. When Elesa hears that Emmet has left without her, she tries to leave too, but is stopped by the ruling council who say that she can’t just leave the country without a ruler! (Cough, they need a scapegoat for their money laundering or whatever corrupt politicians do idk(edit:EMBEZZLEMENT)). Elesa decides to resolve this issue by making the Zebstrika she caught in this era a noble and leaves it in charge (a la emperor of Rome making a horse senator). Then Elesa sets sail to Hisui.

The two get to Hisui, find Ingo, and never return to Unova in this time period. What happens in Hisui? Idk, I haven’t got that far.

Anyway, if people are still reading at this point, lmk what y’all think, is this idea any good?

[aphroditelovesu]

I have some really important information that may concern you and a blogger on Tumblr that I think you might know of, or could be mutuals with…

This was an anon send in that can be found on this blog [censored, blogger doesn’t want people to mistake them being part of the drama, and does NOT SUPPORT the following bigoted beliefs]…

“Ew, you're collaborating with a white supremacist's best friend?

Just a heads up, but @fangdokja-anon has been called out by multiple authors here for being homophobic, fatphobic, and racist, as well as making multiple problematic posts (like wanting to write about genocide and infant SA). The only person who publicly supported her was @yanderedrabbles who praised her in the comments and even made a post to defend her friendship.

It's your choice to have her as a writer for the zine, but please make it public knowledge so people can at least opt out. I myself won't sign up to share space with a bigot.”

Then there was this follow up post by the same anon, who goes into detail of the issues above…

“Sorry for the sudden accusatory ask, I'm one of the people who unfollowed @yanderedrabbles after she openly expressed her support for the homophobe and I was annoyed to see her acting so careless on another blog I follow. I guess she's hoping we'll just forget about it at some point and keeps quiet on her main.

Here's the first post where she explained in many empty words she doesn't care about the issue because the blog has been nice to her and they're friends: https://www.tumblr.com/yanderedrabbles/780435897593315328/hi-idk-if-your-mutuals-with-fangdokja-but-shes?source=share

The problematic post on @fangdokja-anon blog has since been deleted or removed, but I have a screenshot of @yanderedrabbles commenting on it with ‘THATS why your pro pic went all blurry when I logged in. Literally freaked me out so bad. I'm glad to see you reorganising fang! Gonna learn to use AO3 just for you 😘’ while the rest of us were freaking out at the atrocities mentioned.

Instead of coming out and telling us why she chose to publicly support someone who fetishizes stuff like concentration camps and pedophilia she's all giddy about writing for a yandere magazine, like we're dumbasses who'll just swallow up any content. The audacity is amazing.”

Hopefully the last follow up post by the anon that goes into some more history/evidence…

“The post that started this whole drama is from December, but it didn't gain traction until some bigger blogs like ozzgin and moyazaika talked about it, which happened recently. It's still available and you can read it for yourself, including the paragraphs where she explicitly says she doesn't support LGBTQ+ content: https://www.tumblr.com/fangdokja/770117292416712704/blog-rules-guidelines?source=share

The main conclusion from it was that she's (@fangdokja-anon) homophobic, though more people pointed out she's made questionable statements in the past, too. It should've stopped there, but then she made a post basically explaining that she's been gathering an audience so she can switch to different platforms (her website and AO3), where she can finally write without censorship. It was an extremely cringe story about her ‘shackles’ coming off, listing a bunch of offensive topics from the Trigger Warning Database and saying that nothing is sacred and she won't hold back. (Yes, it included the part about children and infants not being safe from it) Same blogs called her out again and she proceeded to block everyone who interacted with those posts. I guess a lot of people reported her blog since it's now hidden and tagged as ‘mature’, for which she had a meltdown.

Anyway, friend (@fangdokja-anon) is against queer people but you (@yanderedrabbles) argue she's actually kind because you haven't been targeted? Suspicious, but I let it sit.

Friend (@fangdokja-anon) publishes entire paragraphs about wanting to write downright atrocious content and you (@yanderedrabbles) comment how excited you are for it? Yeah, that doesn't work anymore, sorry. You're clearly ok with it and that's fucked up. Go support your cult member somewhere else, not in my gay household.”

Since this all seems to be true, please reconsider any relationship you have with @yanderedrabbles and @fangdokja-anon

This person @moyazaika goes into more lengthy detail too of what @fangdokja-anon writes and supports. And remember, @yanderedrabbles also supports @fangdokja-anon

I'm not mutuals with any of the people you mentioned, anon. But I did see what was going on, albeit from the outside because I haven't been online on tumblr lately. I was so disbelieving that I just blocked them and decided not to engage with them. Ah, prejudiced people in the yandere community that have so many topics and subjects that can be explored? I'm not going to lie that THIS took me by surprise.

I'll speak for myself: my blog is a safe space for everyone, regardless of sexuality, gender, religion, or anything. I'm bi myself and have written for sapphic relationships, just as most of my content is gender-neutral so that everyone can identify with it, with no description of the Reader's appearance or gender unless someone specifies it in a request, otherwise it's neutral. Just like the issue of a specific religion or beliefs for a given context, I've written about Christian!Reader once because I was asked to, and I remember receiving something about Atheist!Reader and Jewish!Reader as well. I, Larissa, am agnostic and don't have a specific belief, but I respect all religions and beliefs equally.

As I said, my blog is open to everyone but I do not tolerate, in any way, any kind of hate, homophobia, transphobia and any kind of hatred towards any person or community. So, if you are homophobic or have these kinds of views, please block me.

Just like when I write about Child!Reader is and always will be platonic (I never wrote and I will never write about pedophilia) and the yanderes tend to be more softs because the Reader is a child.

And honestly, in my opinion, why would you be a friend of someone who does not agree with your sexuality or your way of life because of their beliefs? I, unfortunately, have already dealt with many people who said that "God created man and woman the rest is not natural" and I know how it is. And many of them are my relatives, sadly.

With the wave of hate growing more and more towards the queer community, I see it in my country, online, and in other places too, I avoid these as much as possible this kind of things and people. More and more I see queer people being attacked for no reason just for being who they are. And that's so fucking sad and wrong!

Anyway, I just wanted to say these things. I'm not spreading hate towards anyone because I don't do that, but it's sad to see that we're increasingly regressing and the hatred towards queer people is increasing more and more, instead of people opening their minds and understanding that human beings have been queer since the beginning of humanity.

[momentomori24]

[This has been sitting in my draft for a while lol]

When it comes to Curly's failings, I always see people bring up his obvious failure to protect Anya and him prioritising Jimmy, who was the rapist in that situation. Which is completely valid btw and we should rake him through the coals for that alone even more. But I also see too many people saying that Curly "didn't enable Jimmy" or playing softball for his actions. And I could maybe see where that comes from if that incident was the only thing we had to point to-- but that wasn't all he did, is it? Curly being indifferent or not taking Jimmy's mistreatment and belittlement of Anya seriously was hinted at so much earlier than that.

Namely, the very first time we play from Curly's point of view. Let's just skip the fact that Curly was putting everyone in danger by not taking his psych evals seriously and simply giving the same answers to pass them even tho he was shown literal minutes after this scene being clearly not-sane, and go straight to the point I actually wanna get into. Which is this:

These scenes in isolation wouldn't be that bad. From his pov, it's played off as comical and it is. Jimmy being a brony (not really lmao) and getting playfully dragged over it is funny. But unfortunately this is the first example out of many for Curly's complacency. Anya is complaining about Jimmy not taking his psych evals or her seriously, which is easy to believe considering how much he rags on her for "not being a good nurse" (she kept Curly alive on hopes and dreams how dare you). So he keeps making her do silly and inappropriate reports she clearly doesn't wanna do, which is kinda shitty (also borders on harassment). But rather than actually saying something about Jimmy's behaviour or even acknowledging how it sucks he says this:

Mate, that's not a good thing 💀 He's clearly aware that the problem is Jimmy's lack of respect for Anya specifically. He knows that if he, his friend and a man in power, were the one doing the evals Jimmy wouldn't try that disrespect. But it's Anya, a meek woman who ranks lower than him so he thinks he can get away with it (which he DOES), and Curly's shown as comfortable in knowing that. He doesn't chew Jimmy out for making Anya uncomfortable nor does he reassure her that he will do something about it. All he does is take it off her hands this once and helps Jimmy power through it to get a good diagnosis (even tho we know he's DEFINITELY not sane either). He doesn't even mention Anya's discomfort or confront him on his inappropriate behaviour, just teases Jimmy in good fun instead because he doesn't think of it as anything serious. It's subtle and pretty minor in comparison to everything else, but I think it's worth pointing out. Especially because this convo takes place after Jimmy had assaulted her, which makes this so much worse.

If you need any more evidence of Curly being an enabler you need not look further than Anya herself. And I'm not just talking about the way he failed her here-- I'm talking about Anya's own view of Curly and the way said view influences her actions.

Just look at her choice of wording. "What would you have done". This is in response to him saying that she could've come to him if she were feeling stressed, which she-- in his eyes-- didn't. The question itself implies that she had no faith in Curly to actually help despite his insistence that he would've, which I think is significant because it shows that she's very much aware of Curly's shortcomings when it comes to her situation AND it's one of the first (or the first time) she actually verbalised her lack of trust towards him or anyone directly. Prior to this scene she had told him about her rape and the rapist, presumably because she trusted him to handle it. And he dismissed her because the rapist was his best friend, and that evidently deeply scarred her. Enough so that she secretly took the gun and hid it someplace else and didn't even tell Curly were that was, because she knows that if Curly has access to it there's a so much greater chance Jimmy will have too, insinuated by the line "the least I can do is make sure he never gets it either". Speaking about the gun:

It sucks so bad that this perception of him isn't even inaccurate nor unjustified. That despite everything Jimmy had done to her and everything he could still do to her, he'd very likely still not allow her access to the gun for protection. Because that's exactly what he didn't do anyway. He didn't attempt to keep her safe from Jimmy, instead he just pretended that nothing was wrong and still let Jimmy's belittlement of her pass. He didn't give her the gun after the incident, because she wouldn't have hid the case if he had. Despite his desperate reassurance that he'd do anything, he did nothing but make it worse for her and she KNOWS that. It's so frustrating knowing he entrusted the axe to Swansea when he needed it but not the gun to Anya when she needed it too. Also this:

The fact that his knee-jerk reaction to her admitting that she's pregnant was "Who would you--" is so fucked, especially considering she's already told him what happened. "Who would you" what? Who would you fuck? Who would you have sex with? That choice of wording drives me up a wall-- SHE wouldn't and didn't do anything or anyone. That was JIMMY. The potential sentence implies that she had any choice or agency in her pregnancy. She didn't. And the fact that Curly had to ask "who" insinuates that he's been putting Jimmy's action out of sight and out of mind the whole time, choosing to not think about them or what happened to Anya at all. And considering he still made her do Jimmy's evaluations despite being able to do them himself and literally didn't even think of making sure she gets psych evals done too--especially AFTER getting sexually assaulted--that might actually be the case (I haven't seen anyone make a stink about that piece of info so I'm going to because what kinda colossal fuck up IS that??).

I vaguely had a post like this in mind but seeing so many people be like "well Anya did some wrong stuff too like leaving Curly alone with Jimmy but you don't get mad at HER for that so why is Curly not doing anything about Jimmy being alone with Anya so different??" actually makes me want to blow some people up. Jimmy's an abuser, sure, but Anya has no real reason to believe that he'd actually harm Curly. From her perspective, they were close, close enough that Curly would not only let Jimmy continuously disrespect her but also get away with assaulting her too. That, and she knows that Jimmy was closer to Curly than anyone and more likely to be civil around him than he ever was to her. She has barely any reasons to suspect Jimmy would harm Curly when they're alone. Curly, on the other hand, has every fucking reason on the planet to think Jimmy would harm her when they're alone. He knows he raped her (likely in her room at night too). He knows that he sexually harasses her. He knows that he doesn't respect her at all. And that was BEFORE the crash. Anya tried insisting on giving Curly his medicine, only for Jimmy to keep aggressively insisting that he'll take care of it despite her protests. Curly didn't try to keep them separate at all even though he was the Captain and had the power to do so. And this should go without saying, but leaving your rapist alone with his best friend that he was close to and enabled/protected him and leaving your friend alone with the woman he raped (and might have repeatedly assaulted given his free access to her) is NOT THE SAME and I'm going to start chucking some people down a waterfall because what the fuck is that argument 💀 Actually leave it to the fandom of the game where the rape of a woman is the catalyst for the events that unfold to use her trauma to defend the guy that enabled it in the first place. Bloody hell.

The reason why this whole Curly discourse pisses me off is because it-- from what I can see-- ONLY brings up his failures 1-0 days before the crash and the Dead Pixel scene (or all the discussion around other points are drowned out by those two). Those scenes, while important to talk about, are not the only things he's done, and focussing on those as the only things is a mistake that comes short of understanding the issue. When it comes to Curly the main defences I see for him are "he was trying not to escalate the situation" and "he was trying to keep things under control the best he can" and "he was waiting for the right time to help Anya", but those don't work when you look at the bigger picture of everything he's done.

He half-assed through his psych eval despite clearly not being sane (and KNOWING he's barely sane, he literally admits it to Jimmy's face). He still continued to task her with Jimmy's psych evals. He brushed over Jimmy's sexual harassment of her as a joke. He didn't think about making sure she got psych evals done herself after being raped. He gave Swansea the axe but didn't give Anya the gun despite it being for "unrest amongst the crew" (whatever the hell THAT means). He let her assault slip his mind that she had to remind him. He's literally a blond man. He took no action to hold Jimmy responsible for anything, and prioritised how his violation of Anya would affect him rather than her. He ignored her demands for him to get rid of Jimmy. He still allowed Jimmy free reign of the ship as co-pilot even after he was openly fantasising about killing everyone and had a major motive and the means to do just that. He was potentially thinking of making her miscarry to cover up what happened. He was so accustomed to her sucking up being disrespected and disturbed that he didn't even notice a difference in her behaviour until she hid the fucking gun. There's so much other shit he's done and hasn't done, and not talking about them or glossing over them makes it so easy for people to argue that he isn't actually an enabler or just minimise the severity of his neglect.

And while I'm already dragging Curly through the mud, I might as well just drag Swansea too. I've seen too many people being like "Anya should've told Swansea instead" and "Swansea was the one that actually took responsibility". Like, y'all realise he's not that much better than Curly, right? He already knew about what happened to Anya-- he admits it to Jimmy's face-- but he didn't do shit. He knew, but he still got completely shitfaced for months despite her earlier protestation to that (for very understandable reasons). He knew, but he still let Jimmy have the axe AND be alone with Anya while having it. He knew, but when Anya locked herself in the Medical and Daisuke and Jimmy asked for his help he didn't budge nor really showed any care. He knew, but the reason he finally decided to do something about Jimmy wasn't Anya, it was Daisuke. Her suffering and her eventual death weren't enough for him to take action either.

This game, on top of everything else, is a great depiction of rape culture. It doesn't just include the rapists, but the people (mostly men) that stay silent, do nothing, make excuses for and protect the perpetrator for whatever reason, and Swansea and Curly (Curly way more so than Swansea) are both active contributors to the environment that allowed for evil to flourish and continue unhindered until it destroyed them all. And while that arguably doesn't make them evil themselves or as bad as Jimmy, they are so much more a part of the bigger problem than the fandom likes to admit.

[Ok since this is kinda gaining a bit of traction please consider helping these guys out here, here and here. Thanks!]

[chirpsythismorning]

There isn't much discourse about how Mike went from saying that El was a weapon in s1, even encouraging the others to use El's powers when she was still recuperating after finding Will in the void, to then in s3 accusing the others of being reckless with her powers, saying she's risking her life for no reason.

Now, I want to make clear that I'm not bashing Mike here, this has less to do with what he's doing being right or wrong. What this is about is how Mike went from doing something himself, to calling out other people for doing it, without acknowledging that fact and why the writers chose to frame it all this way.

You might think it's insignificant, but these two following scenes are clearly being paralleled to each other. And so the fact that Mike himself is acknowledging this as something to be critical of, makes me wonder what exactly is going on in his mind...

I want to preface this scene from s1 by saying that Mike is giving very off vibes here. I know that I certainly viewed this scene as romantic the first time I saw it, but since rewatching it recently, I was getting completely different vibes.

They literally make a point to focus on Mike being distracted, on the verge of impatience. Then, the way El reacts upon Mike getting up abruptly, gives this feeling of uncertainty about Mike's consideration for her in this moment, as she's clearly not what's on the top of his mind right now. And it just makes you wonder, are we truly supposed to be feeling peak romance rn?

I never realized how out of place this scene was until now (or is it...). It's just such an odd choice to have El resting her head on Mike's shoulder for comfort, only for Mike to cut it short with him being distracted, and with Dustin and El looking awkwardly at Mike like "Okay?...", then followed by a scene where he's trying to convince the others to use El's powers to help.

Here we have s1 Mike displaying behavior that s3 Mike was calling out the others for displaying:

Here we have Lucas, who was very, very critical of El being dangerous ALL of s1, and yet now in complete contrast to that, he is showing more consideration and common sense for El's well being than Mike, the supposed love (at first sight) interest ...

'That's the most important thing, remember?'

A question, followed by Mike just standing there in silence, like he's only just now really thinking about El being safe as their main priority... This is something that combined with everything else unfolding over the course of this season and the seasons after, that makes Mike's behavior a whole lot easier to understand.

I'll have to make several other posts about this, because there are a lot of aspects to it, but for now I'm just going to focus on these two parallels.

Here we have what happens in s3, with Mike being critical of the others doing something he himself literally did in s1:

In fact, how careless all of you are.

THIS. When Mike makes it a big deal to call out everyone for doing something he himself has already done, he's outright admitting that it's something that he believes is wrong, and by not even slightly acknowledging his role in doing something similar in the past, it's very likely that he feels guilty about it.

This was probably his way of trying to make it right, by standing up for El in a way that he didn't before because he was treating her like some superhero and not a real person back then.

It's just that the word love slipped out, in the heat of the moment. And El, upon overhearing this, is seeing this development of Mike herself, with s1 Mike going from, yes being more kind and considerate than the other 2 boys in the beginning, but still sort of expecting stuff from her without her being able to verbally agree to it, to now having developed and changed to saying that one of his big priorities is her safety.

El is taking this as being evidence he went from not loving her, to loving her. Another reason why it's pretty obvious El didn't believe Mike's monologue, bc she herself witnessed Mike develop his apparent romantic feelings for her over time, and so him saying it was love at first sight, was probably the catalyst that made it abundantly clear to her that he wasn't being truthful, bc she knows it's not the truth. She's not stupid.

Again this isn't about Mike doing this back then or even the others doing it now as being bad vs. good, this is about the writers going about it this way, sending a message that Mike feels guilt, enough to try to make things right, but is apparently not ready to unpack the actual guilt that is beneath the surface which lead him to this point.

And then there's this scene, which... it's actually terrifying how obvious it is they instructed Sadie and Caleb to lean out of that shot with Will and Mike reacting to El entering the room... Like... It's SOO obvious when you watch it now what they're trying to hint at without saying it.

Not only are they hinting at Will's feelings, because that is part of it, they're also hinting at Mike's internal struggle. Will is always on the back of his mind whether he's willing to address it or not. And all while that is happening, he is feeling unaddressed guilt about how he treated El when they first met and spent that one week together helping her run away from the bad guys while also looking for Will, something Mike viewed as being worthy of El using her powers...

I'll have to make the other posts regarding this soon, because it all starts to click what's going on with Mike when you look at all of these things together.

While Mike is just a kid like pretty much everyone else in this story, and while he didn't mean any harm by asking El to help them find Will (none of them did), I think that's kind of the whole point?

I think that he got lucky superman landed on his doorstep, who just so happened to be in danger herself, giving him his own purpose to help her too, with her needing him as well, and so it became a situation where they both needed each other.

But because El could literally not speak, it's not like she could really voice her feelings about things they were doing, beyond yes and no. She had Lucas sort of being critical of her, with Mike encouraging El to do things that would make the others see her as being worthy of sticking around so they can find Will. It goes without saying she felt obligated to do these things, even if they didn't outright tell her she had to or else. We literally see almost all of these scenes with her doing stuff for the others being instantly juxtaposed with scenes of Brenner doing the same. It's not the same scale of severity, but it is an acknowledgment that although she is outside of the lab, she still feels like her powers are what define her and it's all people want from her.

I think what it comes down to, is that in that moment when she is sacrificing herself to the demogorgan at the end of s1, we are seeing in real time Mike realizing what he and the other's have been asking of her this whole time, without outright asking her.

And you can literally see the retaliation and devastation hit him all at once. The instant regret, where he's backtracking and El stops him from even trying.

'Goodbye Mike' singles him out, because while he was the one out of the three that showed her the most kindness from the start, he was also the one who at the end of it all, was still expecting her to risk her life for them...

And that just makes it hit so much harder when you think about how that made Mike feel in that moment.

And then in s2 how that impacts Mike and his journey going forward.

His breakdown at the end of s2 upon her return.

His behavior in s3-4, in relation to him juggling his relationship with Will and El, now that they are both in his life at the same time.

It all starts to make sense.

I won't go too much into it because those other posts are bound to be long with a bunch of pictures too!

But on that note, there's at least one thing Mike isn't acknowledging, and it's literally what led up to the unintentional love confession that then led us to 10 more episodes of miscommunication because of it...

It's going to be important for him to address this guilt for him to fulfill his arc and to also close off his expectations that he has to have a romantic relationship with El in order to keep her in his life at all.

The audience themselves seeing this and being forced to face it is also going to make it a lot easier for them understand why Mike did what he did, not only because he's a queer kid in the 80's who has every reason to doubt and repress, but also because he understandably feels sort of indebted to El after everything.

It's more complex than him just falling out of love with her and falling in love with Will because of XYZ.

I think there is a lot of guilt and shame and trauma connected to their meeting and the events that followed. And addressing that is going to give a lot of closure to the ending of the story and also the beginning.

[crowlore]

man. been thinkin bout this sleeping arrangement

do you think the twins slept in rem's bed the entire year or only after tesla

[lockedtowers]

stop a/starion has a BRAND NEW SIM AVAILABLE ON MODTHESIMS FOR THE SI/MS 2