#she does not feel like she comes from my community

[plunderbunny]

Always feels so weird to be saying this because he's the dumb League of Legends spaghetti and meatballs guy, but videogamedunkey had some of the best comments about I've ever heard this in his "Game Critics" video, in which he says the the power of a critic comes from the consistency of their voice, not in you personally agreeing with everything that they say. Understanding the critic's thought process, their likes and dislikes, what they value and what annoys them, whether any of it is even rational or not, is what gives their review utilitarian value in terms of "the critic has X opinion about this thing, does that make me think I would like it dislike it?"

Beyond the most basic "does their opinion make me think I'd like this thing or not" level, the other really important thing about a critic is to challenge the audience's way of thinking about a work and get them to open their mind, broaden their horizons, stretch their brain a bit and think in new ways and from new perspectives. A review should never just be "this is good" or "this is bad", it should include actual ANALYSIS. And whether or not someone likes something isn't analysis, it's one END RESULT OF analysis.

Why is comparing a game to a completely different game a bad thing? Why is engaging with the game in a different way than the developers intended a bad thing? Why is playing and reviewing a game for which you're not the target audience a bad thing? Those all just sound to me like new, novel, challenging perspectives from which to evaluate and think about a game.

And if you don't agree with the reviewer, if they don't like what you do like or vice versa... Why is that a bad thing? You can think they're wrong! Sometimes disagreeing with someone who has a different perspective can be the most enlightening and intellectually stimulating kind of conversation about a media object! My favorite pieces of media analysis of all time, the various works of Elizabeth Sandifer, especially Tardis Eruditorum and Last War in Albion, are FULL of ideas and perspectives and tastes that I disagree with, but they are all FASCINATING to read about and discuss and consider. Just because she is a fan of the Matt Smith era of Doctor Who, which I hate, doesn't mean that her thoughts and opinions on it are pointless or uninteresting.

Like art itself, art criticism shouldn't exist just to validate your preconceptions, or comfort you and give you ask the simplest, most obvious pleasures possible. It should challenge you, make you think, confront you... That's what makes it interesting, and what makes it valuable! Too many people have the notion that art should always be slavishly trying to satisfy a pre-existing audience with known appetites and easily-scratched itches. Too much art ends up complacent on account of catering to those audiences.

More game critics should be like the first picture in this post, actually challenging conventional thought (whether or not they like the game) and thinking critically and from a wide range of perspectives, potentially from ones outside the target audience. The video game community needs another "this game really makes you feel like Spider-Man" reviewer (to steal another great dunkey quote) like it needs a hole in its head, or the equivalent, yet another competitive hero shooter or souls-like or comfy farm sim.

Criticism doesn't exist to validate your personal tastes.

Art doesn't exist to satisfy your personal appetites.

game reviewers are weird

[takes1]

ur blog is so pretty...

if you are okay with it, do you have any headcanons bout what type or p0rn the Karasuno boys would watch? 🌹

what type of p*rn would the karasuno team watch?

warnings. heavy nsfw under the cut. minors DNI

characters. suga. daichi. asahi. tsukki. kageyama. hinata. nishinoya. tanaka. yamaguchi. details. lots of kink discussion - just about anything you can think of

links. my masterlist. my ao3. more haikyuu. my imagines. requests open.

suga९᠀ - likes a good storyline video. loves a bad one. shitty acting gets him laughing, and he needs every chance he can get to feel as though he isn't sinning. won't say no to an amateur flick, but he likes the structure of 4k videos, and is a suuuucker for the 'oiled up' aesthetic.

asahi९᠀ - buddy has a rampant size kink that doesn't get much of an outlet. downside: most videos that cater to this are not what he wants, because of the unavoidable infantilization in most of them. so he opts for amateur vids with bigger guys turning out their smaller girlfriends, wives; extra props if there's some real, organic dirty talk, or if it happens to be super low-quality.

daichi९᠀ - has no shame about his oral fixation. face fucking. deepthroat. he's got any video with some lucky dude getting good head memorized by the title and the preview. his favorites are either: when the guy stays hands-off and silent, or when she takes a load down her throat. not much in between.

tsukishima ९᠀ - is a filthy animal with a porn addiction. will watch/has watched just about everything under the sun. he had a bukkake faze, a gangbang faze, but is now proudly serving his bdsm faze with specific interest in femdoms. shiny, black heels get him hard in an instant. has done the tried-and-true bdsm questionnaire in his spare time and does heaps of research on the community, usually as a pregame to jerking off.

kageyama ९᠀ - no particular preferences. but if he's got a crush on somebody, he will strictly watch lookalikes. it wasn't a conscious habit at first, but after the third time it happened, he couldn't articulate any other reason to look up seven descriptors in the search bar and get 0 results. how well/quickly he gets off is based on how well the actor or subject looks his crush. it's a long endeavor, too. he edges for as long as he can, and almost always does it twice.

hinata ९᠀ - can't watch porn long enough to build any strong preferences. has sensitivity/premature ejaculation issues, so he tends to just listen to whatever video he landed on. this has opened more of a pipeline to nsfw audios, instead. loves the sound of two bodies coming together, especially all the little pants and huffs in a video that aren't faked. has gotten insanely good at being able to tell if it's fake, too.

nishinoya ९᠀ - doesn't watch videos; similar problem to hinata. instead, yuu buys physical hentai novels. big fan of monster-fucking. tentacle stuff is a staple in his readable porn. he guards his collection with his life and would sooner lose a limb than have anybody go near the shelf that he keeps them hidden behind. once, asahi stood too close during a sleepover and -naturally- yuu bit him as a distraction, just to get him away from the area.

tanaka ९᠀ - wlw videos. solo-girl vids. he can't stand to watch something with a guy in it. it's huge turn-off, especially when the dude is too loud, or in the way, too soft, or straight-up ugly. learned to love the slow, women-catered stuff that's 40 minutes long and has plot to follow. also picked up a lot of tongue tricks from these vids, too. (congrats, kiyoko!)

yamaguchi ९᠀ - mmf threesomes. i think ya'll know what i'm getting at, here. either he 1: is poly and doesn't know it, 2: is gay and doesn't know it, 3: is genuinely very enticed by the idea of overstimulating a gorgeous girl, OR 4: can't see himself as enough for a potential partner, and this might be a subconscious way of evading that insecurity.

notes. i'm very sorry to any who were looking for ennoshita, kinoshita, or narita. i tried, but genuinely couldn't get anything going for any of them. they all seem like nice guys, but there's no material that i can properly make nasty.

taglist. @integers @paradoxicalwritings @yuchacco

links. my masterlist. requests open.

[jaijeijayjei]

My current thoughts on Maiko and Zutara as a former hardcore Maiko shipper.

In retrospect, the reason I felt so strongly about Maiko is that Mai goes against patriarchal ideas of what makes “a good woman,” yet Zuko accepted her for who she is.

My former frustration with Zutara wasn’t about Zutara itself- it was about demonizing Mai as an undesirable woman because how she expresses her femininity isn’t palatable.

Mai doesn’t force herself to be bright and cheery. She knows it isn’t her responsibility to manage other people’s emotions. She speaks her mind unapologetically. She despises the way her individuality and agency are stripped away in the name of upholding societal norms of what a nobleman’s daughter should be like. Her character emphasizes the importance of individualism.

In contrast, while Katara is very much a feminist, she does fit into the classical idea of femininity much more than Mai does.

Katara is motherly and nurturing. She will go to lengths to protect others’ feelings even at her own expense. She is expressive, outwardly affectionate, and sentimental. Her character is more focused on her relationships with others and her community.

And so, I always saw Maiko vs Zutara as “this character who does not fit the traditional mold of what makes a good woman is a bad love interest. This other female character who does fit that mold deserves the male interest so much more.”

Maiko drives home the point that it’s others who should try to understand these women who deviate from societal expectations instead of pressuring those women to mold themselves into someone they’re not.

Criticizing Maiko by saying Mai is too dour and bland for Zuko sounded awfully close to “you would be prettier if you smiled more” comments. Especially because Mai was raised in a strict household obsessed with image- I can picture Michi telling her “Mai, if you want to attract a good suitor you have to act this way!”

I was never anti-Zutara, I was anti-Mai slander. So, while I still enjoy Maiko, I now causally ship Zutara in the sense of “I think their dynamic is cool and they had potential”

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk

[emoisthenewemu]

Make The Neighbor's Know My Name - ERWIN SMITH x F! READER SMUT

MDNI 18+

What happens when your hot, (divorced) older neighbor just can't help himself?

wc: 5.5k (sorry!)

cw: SMUT, porn w plot, Modern!AU, age gap, mentions of shitty fathers, DADDY KINK (again, sorry i just know he has one), cursing, p in v, oral on both ends, squirting, general nastiness, breeding kink lol

a/n: wow had sm fun writing this. also this may be tmi scroll if u dont care but shoutout to the dude who made me s****t for the first time i was reminded ab you when writing this, hes a whole dad now lifes crazy

˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

Erwin Smith is an established man. He has a nice house and a good job-one where he got his hands dirty and worked his way up for years before becoming the boss. He works out on a weekly basis, eats (somewhat) healthy and can (again somewhat) cook. He is clean and well kept, educated and respected in his community. Kids love him, so do dogs and the elderly. With a politeness often associated with much different times and a beautiful, piercing set of blue eyes, he is damn dear perfect. On all accounts-a wonderful man.

So, it puzzles many that he lives in such a nice four bedroom all alone. It was not always like this; he used to be married. Had a sweet little housewife that got to stay home and do what she pleased. But it seems that freedom got to her head, overzealous with how much she could get away with-unfortunately it did not take many years of marriage to understand that it was never going to work. All it took was Erwin working a few months of overtime to push her into the arms of another man, one she claimed would give her more attention than he ever did. Perhaps he had neglected her a bit, let his job take over his life for a while. But it was all for her! So, they could have even more stability and possibly even become ready to start a family.

Nowadays he thanks God they never had a child together. And after the dull ache that was getting cheated on, the divorce, the court process that ensued afterward-the man was convinced that he was better off alone. He could accept that truth. There was no need to go chasing a feeling he had already experienced.

But that is not to say that he does not get any action. He is a man after all and they have needs, he surely does. He is no stranger to going out and chatting up nice women, taking them out on a few dates and making them feel special only to break it off when things get serious. It's a pattern at this point. His friends (employees) tell him he should drop the good guy act and just fuck shamelessly. Skip the formalities and go straight to the good part. Just be honest, it is arguably better than whatever the hell he is doing.

He considers it for about a week, even thinks about downloading an app so the opportunity is always there at his convenience. He knows he is a good-looking man who has much to offer, the matches will certainly come in.

That was until he becomes distracted by you. A cute little twenty something that moves directly across the street from him. He watched from both the windows of his home to the security camera which conveniently already faces your house. You had a few other younger girls helping you, two guys and neither seemed to be your boyfriend so that was a plus. And when he left to go get drinks, truck keys in hand-acting like he was not staring directly at you behind the shade of sunglasses you were bold enough to be the one to utter the first word.

It was after a few giggles of your girlfriends, who were also checking him out, but he was more focused on you. Hoping it would indeed be you that was moving in. "Hi neighbor!"

One of the girls slaps you lightly, mostly surprised you were actually bold enough to call out to the hot dilf across the street that's probably married. But he waves and says hello back before stepping into the large truck and driving off. They laugh as you stand there for a while, the wheels in your head turning.

You've always had a thing for older guys.

You soon come to learn he is not a dilf but the sentiment is there. It begs to argue the question, does a man really need to have a child to be a dilf? It may be in the title, but you see it more as a state of mind. And you also learn that he is divorced, he lives alone actually. Except for the golden retriever you often see accompanying him on runs.

You can thank the nosy old lady that lives next door for all of this top-secret information. It reminds you to accept her invites inside for tea often, you feel like you've met the whole neighborhood thanks to her gossip.

For the first month and a half your interactions with the man are mostly basic. Friendly 'hello's' and small little waves before the two of you leave for work in the mornings.

The first time you have an actual conversation is when you are bold enough to knock on his front door one Sunday morning. You know he is awake because he has already gone for his morning run. The sight of your new sexy neighbor all sweaty in his compression top and gym shorts has now become a part of your weekend routine. You wouldn't miss it for anything.

His hair is wet from the shower he just finished, still slightly dripping onto the thin material of his shirt. You swallow hard, trying to not get lost in the sea of muscle staring straight at you. You look up at him. He is more than twice your size.

You want to climb him like a tree.

"H-hi Mr. Smith so sorry to bother! I heard you own a construction company and well-I have this stupid door coming off the hinges! And I'd do it myself, but I suck at stuff like that! And I'd hate to hire someone to come all the way out here for something so small" You are visibly nervous, fidgeting and playing with your hands as you find it hard to maintain eye contact. He is just so fucking hot you cannot trust yourself to not gawk at the sight of him. "Of course, I'd pay you too!"

You are so cute and helpless. A fucking door hinge? Surely you have at least one friend who could help out with something like that. But as you soon come to learn, Erwin Smith will never say no to you. "Nonsense, no need to pay me. I'm always free to help a neighbor out. Let me go grab my tools"

So, he does and follows you across the street. He definitely does not check out your ass in those tiny little shorts that lift up a bit when you walk. In your defense-it's your day off, you deserve to be comfy!

Your house is exactly what he expected it to be, cute and tidy. It smells nice and everything is so girly. Pink and creme colored decorations scattered about, shiny hardwood floors that he can tell you recently cleaned. Perhaps it was in preparation of him coming over. Of course, the door just happens to be the closet door in your bedroom, with all of your cute little clothes as you sit on your cute little bed and watch.

Fuck, for some unknown reason the man finds it hard to focus. Even as you make small talk, his mind is elsewhere. Stuck on the sweet smell of you, the way you sit looking so pure and innocent-legs dangling over the edge of the bed as you watch him, head curiously cocked to the side.

He feels like a pervert for imagining what you must do in that bed. How beautiful you must look in the mornings when you wake up feeling lazy, stuck between the sheets. Do you cuddle up with the singular fluffy stuffed animal at night? Do you take it off the bed before you fuck someone, or does it stay up there? Even more, how many men have you fucked in that bed?

He forces himself to snap out of it, silently scolding himself for being so crass. This is not very neighborly of him. You would likely be disgusted by his vulgar thoughts. Or maybe you would like it, you don't do much to hide the way you stare at him. Even before this day, it was quite obvious that you had a little crush on him.

Yet as the older, more mature adult in the situation he tells himself that he must not entertain the idea. He is eighteen years older than you. Children have been born and graduated high school in that amount of time. It's downright wrong and these intrusive thoughts need to be put to an end.

It was easier said than done, especially when he catches a glimpse of your pink lacy panties thrown about the closet. He thinks about the underwear for the remainder of his day, if he were a less respectable man, he would have pocketed the pair and took the home. But he would never, he only imagines he did.

Two days later you show up to his doorstep, with a nice homemade lasagna and the sweetest smile on your face to thank him. It is you that he wishes to devour instead. He even invites you inside to talk for a bit but keeps things fairly short. He considers opening up a bottle of wine but talks himself out of it. Remember, he promised himself he would not entertain the idea of you. Although it may be too late because he fucks his fist to the thought of you every night for the remainder of the week.

And one early morning at work, before any of his men have been sent out on jobs a few of them congregate around his desk. Engaging in small talk as they usually do, telling stories of girlfriends, wives, how drunk they go the other night, cars-the usual guy stuff.

"Boss! How're the apps treating you?! You get any action?" Eren, one of his younger employees cannot help but ask seeing as he was the one to suggest in the first place.

"For real! You haven't said shit since we made you download it" Connie walks in, hardhat in hand as the other one holds the phone his crazy girlfriend is currently blowing up. He ignores the calls and shoves it into his back pocket. "Don't hold out on us man I tell you everything!"

"I'm aware" Erwin cocks a rather judgmental eyebrow-there are many stories which would have been better off unheard. Things he would much rather forget.

And then he thinks of you-the only woman which has plagued his thoughts for close to two months now. He sighs, contemplating if it worth bringing up. His heart drops as the realization dawns on him that you are practically the same age as the two young men before him-younger actually. "Shit" He sighs, running a hand through his hair. "There is...a woman. Not from an app, my neighbor actually"

"Ohhh your neighbor! So, you get to hit and just walk right back home?" Connie laughs and the man cannot help but roll his eyes. These two are definitely the wrong people to be discussing this with.

"We haven't done anything; I just find her attractive is all. Probably not the smartest idea to fool around with someone I run in to almost every day anyways"

"Why not? Saves you money and gas" Eren argues. "She live alone too?"

Erwin sighs because he has neglected to mention the most important detail. "Yes, she lives alone, apparently she inherited the house from her aunt"

"All I hear is a lonely lady who needs some company" Connie shrugs, taking a sip of his coffee. "What's stopping you?"

"She's quite young"

Eren and Connie could not be more excited that their usually reserved boss is opening up to them for once. After all of the talking they have done, it is his turn to ask for advice. "Erwin Smith you smooth motherfucker" The shorter man teases. "How young?"

"Last year of college young"

The men all but gasp, smiling excitedly as this is the juiciest piece of information they've heard in ages. They never would have expected it from a man who (with all respect) has a constant stick up his ass. "Younger than us?"

"......yes" He sighs ashamedly as the men whoop and holler. Rolling his eyes as they dap each other up as if they are the ones about to get laid.

"You better do it boss! Chicks these days are crazy. We can thank your generation for being such shitty fathers" He should expect such ignorant comments from someone like Jaeger, a guy who has been stringing his girl best friend along since childhood.

"Forget I even said anything" Smith stands up, grabbing a clipboard and few other necessities for the job site he will soon be off to. But he should know the two young men would persist.

"I say do it boss!" Eren encourages, pumping a fist into the air. "Do it! Do it!"

"Do it! Do it!" Connie joins in on the chanting, they follow the man out his office-ignoring the stares of their fellow colleagues. That is until their boss scolds them to get the hell to work. So, they do, retreating back to their trucks as Erwin stands in place in thought for a while.

They have given him much to think about.

He ponders the conversation for days afterwards. Every time he looks at you, when you have those short little conversations that keep his day going. Perhaps it would not be so bad, he hopes you aren't looking for anything serious. Or maybe he does, his mind remains undecided. It would not be so bad having a pretty young thing like you on his arm. But he is getting ahead of himself.

He talks to you more, striking up longer conversations whenever he gets the chance. You are very polite; he finds it sweet the way you cross your ankles and tuck your hands behind yourself whenever the two of you speak-almost as if you were nervous. For some reason, it makes him want you even more.

After weeks of much of the same behavior he decides he has had enough. It's not so bad, it's not like he knew you before you were an adult or anything. You are a grown woman who pays bills and provides for herself-you have your own house for Christ's sake! He needs to stop babying you, looking at you as if you are just some lost little girl. You have needs of your own. Needs he is more than certain he can meet. So, he invites you inside for drinks one Friday evening, you do not think about it for even a second before agreeing.

Sending a text to your girls about how you are finally going to fuck the hot man from across street, you shut off your phone. You want absolutely zero distractions during your visit, a plan of your own is in the works.

You drink his fancy wine and watch a movie on the couch, carefully maintaining a bit of distance between the two of you. You almost forgot how nervous he makes you, perhaps the liquid courage is what you need to get your act right.

"Come closer" He pats the spot beside him, and you hesitantly follow his orders, setting down the wine glass and closing the gap between the two of you. Your thighs are touching, hands awkwardly stuck on either side of you, the pace of your heartbeat quickens when the man slides an arm down and around your waist. "What's the matter? Am I making you uncomfortable?" He has to make sure before things go any further. Your stiff body language is telling him that perhaps he should slow down.

"Oh no! Never!" You shake your head, trying to ease into his touch. But you are still afraid to touch him yourself. "It's just......you're a bit intimidating"

He exhales a puff of air through his nose, clearly amused by your words. Brushing a piece of hair behind your ear, he speaks again. "Oh darling, I don't mean to be. What can I do to make you feel better?"

His deep voice sends shivers down your spine, it sends shivers somewhere else too. "I-I don't know" You laugh. "You're just so big and..... established. Have no idea what you're doing sitting here with a girl like me"

"Oh, don't say that" He turns his body a bit to face you better, arm still stuck in its place around you. He places the other hand on your knee, you remain painfully aware of its place. "I'm the one who should be questioning how I got such a pretty little thing sitting on my couch" You giggle, it makes him twitch in his pants. "I'm the lucky one here"

His hand slides up to your thigh, massaging the fat in a way that makes you burn with desire. A heat builds deep within you. "T-touch me please"

Oh, your sugary voice is driving him crazy; he had no idea he would be this into something like this, someone like you. He pulls you into his lap, hands dragging up and down either side of your body as he takes all of you in. He lets out a long sigh, hips shifting beneath you as his cock begins to harden at the feeling of your burning skin. He hooks his thumb beneath your shirt, looking up at you. "May I?"

You nod almost frantically before he pulls the fabric over your head. Facing a baby pink, lacy bralette-he is unable to stop the groan from leaving his lips. He kisses the uncaged skin beneath your breaths, inadvertently taking a deep breath in to get more of your syrupy scent. "You wear this for me?" He questions.

You nod shyly, trying to hide your face but he pulls it closer to look at him. A hand guides you to fill in the space between your faces, foreheads pressing together but he does not kiss you. Not yet anyways, he wants to tease you a bit first. "Use your words"

"Y-yes I wore it for you daddy" It was a shot in the dark, most men his age are into shit like that.

He groans again. Fuck. Eren was right, thanks to all the shitty fathers out there, yours included.

You laugh, finally gaining that bit of confidence you need to keep the teasing going. "Wanna see what else I put on for you?"

"Show me darling" His eyes follow your hand which goes down to unbutton your shorts, unzipping them a bit before hooking your thumb to pull them forward-giving him perfect sight of the cute little bow which sits atop your panties. The same pair he spotted in your closet all those months ago. If he wasn't hard before then he definitely was now, nearly bursting at the seams of his pants. And he chuckles, twitching in anticipation as your body rocks with his. "You planned this, didn't you? Dirty girl"

"Mhm" You laugh, hand running down his chest, you let your nails dig into the fabric of his shirt a bit. You are desperate to feel even more of him. "Did I do a good job?"

"So good princess" He confirms, kissing your chest again. "Let's go upstairs"

You agree, making sure to grab your shirt that you clutch to your chest, painfully aware of the fact you are the only one without a shirt on. But your worries are soon dissolved because Erwin sheds his own shirt the second the two of you reach his room, you sit on his large bed, taking him in all his glory. Your mouth practically waters at the sight of nothing but muscle and evidence of years of hard work, the dirty blonde happy trail you wish to see the end of.

He walks up to you, standing at the edge of the bed and you look up to him. You are eye level with the tent of his pants. He brings a hand to gently caress your face, words are not necessary to know what he wants. You're so sweet and obedient that you go to fumble with the zipper of his pants almost immediately. And when he springs out you have to stop your eyes from widening at the sheer size of him. You almost feel afraid again but you don't want him to know that-you seem naive enough already. You'd like to surprise him a bit.

You kiss the girthy tip as if it were his lips, sticking out your tongue to flick over the slit. You press an exaggerated closed mouth kiss to the tip before taking more of him in your mouth. He groans, throwing back his head as you make your way down inch-by-inch. When you reach the base you swallow, throat tightening around him as he looks down to watch you-mouth agape.

Your wide eyes look up at him gleefully, if you could smile you would. The wait for him was sooo worth it-you think as he looks down at you in what seems to be pure amazement. Brows scrunching as he groans as you choke on his length. A mess of saliva and tears as you bob your head up and down, you can feel when his tip makes it past a certain place in your throat, growing conscious of how deep he is reaching.

It hurts but you can't find it in yourself to stop, he looks so good. An absolute mess as his manly groans make you want to play with your pussy. But instead, you take it a step further, you need this man to remember you, to crave you for years afterwards just in case this never happens again. Although you hope it does. You wrap both arms around his thighs, bringing him deeper as he begins to fuck your mouth.

Erwin, who has stayed relatively quiet since then becomes a mess. "Ohh fuck-fuck! So good, gonna fuck this tight little throat.... good girl, good girl"

You moan at his nasty words, sounds of gagging and wet slaps play like a symphony. Until he pulls back once he realizes he was about to blow a massive load down your throat. No, he wants to save it.

He pulls out, strings of spit dripping from his cock as you gasp for air, wiping away the tears from your eyes and mess of liquid around your mouth. "Mmm" You moan. "Was it good daddy?"

"So good darling" He rubs his thumb over your now swollen lips. "You're doing such a good job for me"

He leans down to kiss you, finally. Fervently grabbing at your hair and hips as he makes his way onto the bed. You scoot back, lips never leaving his as he goes to pull off your shorts. Tongues pressing together in-sync, he stops for a moment to suck on yours-eliciting a small whimper from you. Your nails trace up and down his arms, lost in the feeling of his lips. You could stay this way for hours.

But he obviously would like to keep things going, pulling down your shorts all the way before going down to kiss you through the thin fabric. He makes out with your pussy through the lace, stopping to suckle and blow tiny bubbles on your throbbing clit.

"Fuck!" You squeal, bucking your hips into his face as he continues the teasing. His tongue going up and down, creating an even larger wet spot that takes up most of the area. "Pleeease daddy"

"No, you can wait" He scolds, going to kiss your thighs softly. "Be patient. I'd like to take my time with you, get you ready for my cock"

"Mhm" You nod yet your hips buckle up again. "S-sorry"

"It's okay princess" He coos, finally pulling your panties down completely. When he licks a stripe up your pussy you all but scream.

"Mmm yesss!"

He kisses your clit, sucking it before swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. Your hips try to fuck his face, he lets it happen, diving deeper and deeper into your pussy. He sticks his tongue out and shakes his head side to side, moaning at the way you cry out-so receptive to his touch.

He moves down to fuck you with his tongue, you bump your clit against his nose, mouth open and eyes rolled to the back of your head in a pure state of bliss. You tug at his hair roughly, using it to guide you against him, so desperate for more. Your mind clouds with pleasure, mouth forming into an 'o' shape as your hips begin to stutter, breath catching in your throat. And when he pulls back to spit! on your pussy, not once or twice, but three times you think you have died and gone to heaven.  With the addition of his fingers, and focusing the attention back to your clit, it is not long after that your release washes over you.

You exclaim out loud as your back arches off the bed, softly buckling down onto his tongue as he laps up all of your essence.

The both of you are panting as he comes back up to meet your lips. Tongue assaulting yours as you taste nothing but yourself on his tongue. That's the way it should be-you think. His painfully hard length presses into your stomach, you look down to see how deep it might go inside of you, but you look back up again when you start to feel scared of the stretch. You trust him, that is all that matters.

And before he can even ask if you want him to put a condom on or not, you grab his cock, sliding it down your folds and circling it around your clit. "Want you inside now daddy"

And who is he to ever say no to you? Seconds later he is pressing himself inside of you, thankful that he prepared you for it beforehand because it doesn't take very long for him to bottom out. "Ohh shit" He groans, pulling all the way out them slamming back in. "Fuck...you're so tight"

Your walls squeeze around him even more at his words, arms settling around his broad shoulders as you fight the urge to let your hips run away. He notices the way you pull back; he won't allow it. Bringing your bodies flush against one another, he rests his forehead on your shoulder, strong arms pulling you down onto him. You cry at the pressure, the way he is stabbing at you from inside, so deep you feel it might go out into your tummy. You squeal again, legs crossing over his back. "Erwin! Mmm, no no no, it hurts"

A stray tear falls from your eye, yet your hips begin to seek out his as you grow more accustomed to the stretch. "F-fuck" Your stomach begins to flutter.

"Oh shh shhh darling it's okay" He sounds so gentle, the complete opposite of the mean snap of his hips. "You want me to stop?" Another powerful thrust makes you let out a noise closer to a scream.

"No daddy please don't stop" You begin to claw at his back as he sets himself a pace, loud sounds of clapping begin to fill the room.

Your pussy is choking him, so slippery and needy. It sucks him in with each thrust, a 'slush' noise every time he pulls himself out. "So wet" The man gasps at the sight of all your juices splattered about. He needs to see more.

Pushing your knees into your chest and angling his hips a bit higher, he begins to drill into you at an unrelenting pace. A mix of saccharine moans fill the room, the sound of his headboard slamming against the wall. "Oh, oh oh! Erwin! Mmmm!" You sound so perfect, the sound of you moaning his name alone is enough to make him want to cum.

"Feels sooo good" Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he plows into you in a way that feels mechanical. In a way you have never felt before. He is so experienced, he knows all the right buttons to push, places to touch you and kiss. You are so mind numbingly stuck in a state of bliss that you almost feel lost. Like you could never crave another man after sleeping with him.

"Guys your age ever treat you like this?" He questions, now forcing your legs together with one arm and picking your hips up off the bed. Continuing his assault on your sweet little pussy that has made him go fucking stupid. He usually maintains a sense of composure when sleeping with new women, he knows what he enjoys may not be everyone's cup of tea but you, well you are the most perfect little slut he has ever met. "They fuck you this good?"

"No Erwin!" You cry out, gripping the sheets as he continues slamming into you. "You're the best! Fuck, Erwin! It's tooo much, feels weird"

Your hips twitch, he knows very well what this means. Oh, he needs it, he needs you to squirt all over him or else he will not be satisfied. "Erwin! Erwin!"

"Yeah, keep talking princess, make all the neighbors know my name, huh?" He goes down to toy with your clit, your hips attempt to squirm away. But the arm wrapped around your thighs ensure you stay in place. He pinches your clit, tip pushing against your g spot in a way that makes it hard to speak.

"Nonono, think I'm gonna pee" You shake your head frantically, trying to grab his arms and free yourself of his grip. But he will not allow it.

"Just let go" He orders, hair now sticking to his head as he shakes it back and forth. "Squirt all over daddy princess, I'll clean it up"

You finally reach your breaking point, breath so caught in your throat that your moan is almost silent, too high pitched to even be registered. Your hips and thighs are shaking, stomach quivering and you can feel your heartbeat in your pussy as he does not relent with his thrusts-close to a release of his own. When you squirt all over him, he whines stuck on the juices gushing out of you. His eyes squeeze shut as the image replays over and over again in his head, finally dropping your body back down to the mattress as he is almost where he needs to be. "Such a messy pussy" He moans into your skin, your body lays limp as you try to do something as simple as breathe.

It is hard when he snatches every little gasp out of you. But you can feel him twitching inside you, thrusts grow sloppy as you grab at his hair, your sensitive pussy being pushed to her brink. "Please please cum inside daddy. Fuckkk I need it! Wanna keep it inside all night and remember how good you made me feel"

Your dirty words are enough to push him over the edge, spilling into you and splaying your womb with his seed. Fuck, his dick belongs inside of you. So does his cum, he wants to do this every day when he comes home from work. In the mornings before he even gets out of bed. At night when before he goes to sleep. He wants you stuffed with him at all times. His cum spills out of you as he finally pulls out, dripping down your thighs.

He looks up at you with a mischievous look on his eyes. It feels unnatural to see such a composed man come undone, the way he eats you up with his eyes.

And you are staring at him like he is the most handsome man on the planet, well he kind of is. To you at least. You chuckle, you're in danger, never has a man made you feel this good before. He made you squirt the first time sleeping with you. Fuck, you're dickmatized.

"We should have done this a long time ago" He collapses into your chest, kissing whatever skin is available softy. He will clean you up in a bit, for now he needs to rest.

"Yes, we should have" You play with his hair before kissing the top of his head, making yourself quite comfortable in his sheets. You could get used to this.

And used to it, you become. Erwin is now a daily part of your routine, the same as sleeping and eating. Getting creampied by Erwin Smith was now the highlight of most of your days but it was not all purely physical. He took you out a few times, you even met a few of his coworkers one night over drinks. You spend the night at each other's houses and begin to go on morning runs together.

You suppose you should not be surprised when you end up pregnant several months later. Knocked up by your sexy older neighbor that you now consider to be your boyfriend. He even suggests the two of you get married, but you agree to wait for the baby to come along to see if that changes anything in your relationship.

Now, because of you, he will live up to his true potential as a dilf.

[rei-ismyname]

Cyclops, Masculinity, and the Hellfire Club

After Jean walks in on Emma's 'therapy session' with Scott, the two women have a long discussion in which he is not welcome. Scott deals with his feelings by getting drunk by himself at the Hellfire Club. People just will not leave him alone though, starting with this unnamed psychic dancer. She's presumably doing her job under the assumption that this is what men are here for. It's a normative and reasonable assumption, but Scott is pointedly uninterested in participating in this marker of masculinity.

The dancer's words remind us of Emma - telepathy, seduction, and a call to let loose - though there's markers of Jean there too, the wife he hasn't been able to communicate with. He rejects the whole thing as 'sexless and unarousing' instead of a 'no thanks, I'm not in the mood' or similar. Instead of rejecting Emma by proxy, my read is that he's rejecting the physicality of it, compared to the mind sex that's been going on. Also, Scott does a lot of 'calling the shots' - too much even. Exercising sexual, gendered power doesn't appeal to him.

This is nothing Scott hasn't been told before. I'm reminded of the butte sex incident specifically, where Phoenix urged him to 'get out of [his] head' so they could have sex. The dynamic and the power differential made the traditional gender roles hazy.

I think Scott agrees with the dancer here in some ways. He's been viewed as uptight his whole life and there's so many instances where Scott isn't the instigator of sex and intimacy. Here in the Hellfire Club with their regency cosplay the gender roles are super patriarchal. Scott rejects or tries to escape the expectations of traditional gender roles and the art reflects that - shifting from the male gaze to Scott's famous gaze. Interestingly we never see the dancer's face so we don't know who she's presenting as. It's Jean who has the significant association with black lingerie and red hair but it's Emma who's associated with BDSM.

Scott gives an awkward apology and explanation, doing his best to strip the illusions away. I can't help but feel like he's trying to convince himself that his complicated feelings for Emma aren't real but he's not doing a very good job. Why did he even come to the Hellfire Club? There's plenty of places to get drunk without running into people he knows or people that know him. He's wearing his X-Men jacket and his unique visor, not exactly incognito.

He completely avoids eye contact with the dancer and everything is tinted red, suggesting we're seeing everything through his POV. His gaze has a long association with angst and self doubt - I have to wonder how well he 'sees' the person he's making assumptions about. He's not exactly denying her personhood, but he's not especially interested in it either. It's ironic that he'd go to the one club that has a intimacy-free version of both his significant relationships with women at this point. One thing's for sure, he's not interested in performing masculinity, but he's in a space where he can't escape the expectation.

The faceless, nameless dancer eventually leaves. Scott's brief solitude is interrupted by a particular kind of toxic masculinity turned up to 11 - Sabertooth. He approaches from a dominant position in the ancient greek sense, from behind - while pointedly calling Scott 'boy.' He ignores this, and Sabertooth gets in really close to smell his drink, describing it as 'gay.' Deeply childish, but explicitly challenging Scott's masculinity. Creed accuses Scott of 'having issues' in a pretty egregious pot/kettle situation.

Scott responds, but simply by telling him to get out of his face. 'Seriously.' Creed switches to that other marker of masculinity - violence, or at least threats of it. Scott ignores that too, rejecting chest beating and puerile verbal sparring. Sebastian Shaw intervenes and orders Creed to leave Scott alone. Shaw has his own thoughts on exercising patriarchal power, but leaves when Scott isn't interested.

Scott is about to leave because 'his pride can't take it anymore.' He doesn't elaborate on this because he's accosted by probably the most prominent uber masculine person in his life - Logan. Logan accuses Scott of 'making the X-Men look like losers' and it's hard to read this as anything but a gendered challenge. He expands on Creed's judgment of Scott's choice of beverage by implying it's not 'real' (ly masculine) - slamming a bottle of Jack Daniels on the table. Scott's not interested in that either.

Logan doesn't really give Scott a choice, framing it in the context of a challenge. Denying that he's here to convince him to return to the X-Men, he tells Scott that Emma was murdered after he left. Leaving him to chew on that, Logan lays out the stakes of the challenge and departs for the urinal - that most bioessentialist of masculine spaces.

Making the subtext text, Creed follows him in for some insecure dick measuring. Rejecting any kind of serious discussion with an uncharacteristically cerebral Sabertooth, Logan issues violent threats and returns to Scott. It's got massive ex vibes in the best Creed/Logan homoerotic manchild way.

Scott finally opens up, discussing his relationship woes with Logan of all people. He shares how each of them makes him feel, explicitly tying the tension to the boy/man dichotomy. The 'pressure' and 'expectations' feel significant, something he should really talk to Jean about. Unfortunately he's got Logan instead, who's not especially interested in listening at all. He chimes in about Jean, of course, but he's here for tough love.

Scott ponders how anyone could think he'd shoot Emma. Above all he's not going back to the mansion and he's not drunk (or so he claims.) Logan, asshole that he is, suggests Scott should be grateful for what he has. 'You always get the best girls' which has got to be the worst possible thing to say (and super gross). Sure, he's having relationship troubles, but he's trying to figure out his emotions and his trauma. Logan frames this as 'all you do is whine' which is both not true and very rich coming from him.

I've never identified with Scott more than when he says 'I hate you.' Logan manages to make it all about himself, explicitly stating his jealousy. 'All I ever wanted was what you got' accusing him of throwing 'it all away to run wild with the White Queen.' He's right that Jean would like it if he came out of his shell, to a degree, but their problem is one of trauma and communication. Logan's possessive, reductive, and frankly ignorant diagnosis misses the forest for the trees. Scott's problems aren't his problems yet he gets the kind of advice one might expect from this hypermasculine space.

Further minimising Scott's issues, Logan shifts the conversation focus entirely to him. He outright says that Scott's problems are nothing compared to his and guilts him into helping assault The World to uncover Logan's past. He probably would have said yes if he just asked as a friend, but instead he kidnaps him when he passes out. Logan says he's 'trying hard' but doesn't finish the sentence before urging him to put aside his problems.

So instead of talking with his wife or getting to brood alone, Scott ends up hungover on a black ops mission. He got to verbalise some things he'd been keeping bottled up, but in a sense he was assaulted by masculinity and toxic expectations at every turn. Dude needs better friends. The narrative doesn't portray this as a positive thing - in fact it's pretty messed up. I wonder if he regrets going to the Hellfire Club.

Despite the superhero context, Grant Morrison does a swell job of portraying an AMAB person withdrawing from masculine-coded spaces and expectations, at least in my experience. Especially when you're friends with people like Logan, whose only mode is toxic hypermasculinity. I think if he was framed as being unequivocally right it'd be overpowering. Morrison's issues with writing women are on display, but overall this issue is powerful, especially for the time.

[winchesterwild78]

Daddy’s Girl pt 7

Master List

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader (wife), Dean and Reader’s daughter, other characters from Supernatural

Warnings: court proceedings, angst, fluff, slight smut, mention of sexual assault

A/N: Another collab story with @cheekygirl2309. This chapter will touch on the sentencing of the jackasses, how the family is navigating life and other twists and turns. 

This is a work of fiction and does not follow the Supernatural storyline. I do not own the rights to the characters used.

All work is my own and @cheekygirl2309, don’t take it or use it as your own. Reblogs and likes are appreciated. 

Minors DNI 18+

I moved back into the bunker but not our shared bedroom. I slept in the spare room down the hall. Most nights I stared at the ceiling longing for Dean. My heart was still broken from the cruel words he flung at me, the anger he had towards me. 

We had appointments with a therapist. Delilah, Dean and I had our own, then a family appointment and of course one for Dean and I together. I was scared the cracks in our foundation would open up and swallow us whole. 

The day we were due back in court for the sentencing I woke up early. I took a shower and walked quietly to the kitchen. Turning the corner I gasped softly. Dean was sitting at the table. His green eyes flicked up to mine. He looked exhausted and sad.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” My breath hitched and my heart clenched. I missed hearing him call me that and meaning it. “Good morning, Dean. Are you ready for today?” 

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He shifted in his seat and there was a crackle of tension in the air. “Hey, um, do you think you and I can sit and talk later?” He asked in an unsure way.

I took a deep breath, “Dean, I think we should wait and talk with the therapist. They can help us with communication so we don’t end up saying things we’re going to regret later. Hurt each other more.” 

Dean took a shaky breath and nodded. He stood and walked over to me, cupped my face, “For what it’s worth I’m sorry. I don’t blame you for Delilah. I spoke out of anger. I love you and I can’t lose you.” 

I leaned into his touch, “I love you too, Dean. I never stopped, but we have some work to do.” He nodded and let his hand slowly fall from my face. The warmth on my cheek lingered. 

A few hours later we were sitting in the courtroom. I held Delilah’s and Charlie’s hands. Dean sat on the other side of Delilah and held her hand. 

The judge came in and discussed the trial and what the charges were. “Since both defendants showed a lack of remorse, and it has come to light this attack was not the first one I feel it is my duty as an officer of the court and a sworn protector of justice that I sentence both of you to the max time and you two will have to register on the sex offender registry for the rest of your lives. Bailiff, please take both of these young men into custody where they will be transported to the regional jail.”

We all let out the breath we were holding. The boys were crying and their mother’s were wailing. Delilah looked at me and I leaned over, “Don’t feel bad for them. You did nothing wrong. Daddy and I raised you and Charlie to take accountability for your actions, this is how they take accountability.” 

She nodded. I made eye contact with Dean and he offered a soft smile. I craved his arms around me, his lips on mine. I just wanted us to get back to the way we were. I missed my husband.

The next few days we spent time together as a family. The distance between Dean and I was growing. Sam, Eileen and Jody came over more often and tried to help. 

Today Dean and I had our first therapy appointment together. I was nervous. All the hurt from the past few weeks was taking a toll on us. The ride to the therapist office was quiet. 

When we arrived, Dean walked around and opened my door out of habit. Walking into the building, his hand graced my lower back. Again, habit. It made my heart flutter, a smile formed on my lips. Almost like there was a spark of hope igniting between us. 

When we walked into the room the therapist invited us to sit wherever we were comfortable. Dean and I sat on the couch, but opposite ends. I noticed she wrote something down. 

She started telling us about herself and then invited us to tell her about our marriage and what brought us here today. She already knew about Delilah, but she didn’t know what happened between us.

Dean shifted uncomfortably in his spot. I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. “Well, the stress of what happened to Delilah really got to all of us. Dean and I didn’t handle it well, and things were said that led to our separation. When I got into my accident I wasn’t living at home. Waking up in the hospital I saw my babies and Dean. Leaving the hospital I decided to move back home.” 

“I see, are you two sleeping in the same room?” I shook my head no. She wrote something down. She looked at Dean, “So, Mr Winchester, what do you think happened that brought you two here today?” 

Tears filled Dean’s eyes and my heart broke. “It’s my fault. I got so angry at not being able to protect my baby I took it out on my wife. I’ve always been able to protect people. She didn’t deserve the things I said to her. It wasn’t her fault and I told her it was. None of this was her fault. I’m a coward. I got scared and lashed out at the one person I knew who would always love me. She’s seen me at my worst and helped put me back together. I guess I just assumed she’d always be there no matter what. Now I’ve lost the love of my life forever.” 

I gasped softly and the therapist looked over at me. “Mr Winchester.” “Dean, please call me Dean.” “Okay, Dean, tell me when you first knew Y/N was the one. Tell me about the moment you fell in love with her.”

Dean smirked a bit and I looked over at him, wondering if it was the same day I was thinking about. 

“We had just finished a particularly grueling, um week at work.” I smirked at his choice of words. “We hadn’t been dating long, but had been working together for years. The two of us decided to get away for a bit so we went to a friend’s cabin. Y/N didn’t know because I blindfolded her. When we got there I had blankets spread out on the floor, our favorite takeout and pie. Had to make sure my girl got her favorite pie.” 

I smiled thinking about the day. A warmth filling my body.

“Candles everywhere. I went to start a fire and the wood was wet. I ended up chopping wood. She doesn’t know it, but I saw her watching from the doorway. The soft smile that ran across her lips, the way she bit her lower lip.”

I clenched my thighs together thinking about his cutting the wood. His shirt was tight against his body, the flexing of each muscle with the swing of the ax, and the way his strength was on display. I remember how it turned me on and made me feel. Like this man could protect me and anyone else that came along for the rest of our lives. 

“When the fire was lit, I put on some music. I don’t know how to dance, but I knew how much she loved it, so I tried. I took her in my arms. I still remember the way her eyes looked at me. So beautiful, so full of love. We danced and I lost my footing. We tumbled onto the blankets, me hovering over her. Her hair falling in her face. I gently brushed her hair back, looked in her eyes, kissed her lips softly and that’s when I knew. When I knew I was in love with her and would never love anyone else for the rest of my life. I knew she was going to be my wife, the mother of my children. That was the day I told her ‘I love you’ for the first time.” 

By the time Dean finished, tears were streaming down my face. The therapist told us it sounded like there was still a lot of love between us. This tragic incident in our lives tried to create a wedge. So, she gave us some homework, “I want the two of you to spend time together. Just the two of you. No children, no family. Just the two of you. You two need to get back to what made the two of you fall in love. I want you two to go away for a long weekend, or a week. Y/N, I want you to start by moving back into your bedroom with Dean. If this is going to work you have to be back in there.” 

I nodded. We thanked her and left. Walking to the car, Dean’s hand was by his side. I looked over at him and slid my hand into his, our fingers intertwined. He looked at our hands then at me and smiled. 

The drive home wasn’t as tense as the drive there. We talked about the homework and how we would figure out how to get away for a little bit. He took my hand and held it tight, “We will figure it out, baby. I want to make us work. I want to fix us. I will never forgive myself for hurting you. I love you, sweetheart.” 

“I love you too, Dean. I want us to fix us too.” He kissed my hand. We drove home and when we got home I walked to the spare room and started to gather my things. 

Dean came to the door and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you need any help, sweetheart?” I looked up at him and shook my head. He walked towards me and cupped my face, “I’m so sorry, baby.” His forehead rested on mine. I looked up at him, our eyes met and he leaned closer to me. I leaned up and our lips met softly. 

He pulled back and looked at me. Tears in his eyes and tears in mine. His hands moved into my hair and pulled me closer to him and his lips crashed on mine again. The weeks of separation, the anger, the pain, all slipping away. 

We pulled apart when we heard someone clear their throat. We looked at the door and saw Sam. “Well I see therapy is going well.” He chuckled. “Actually yes. We have homework that we need to talk to you and the kids about. First, my beautiful wife is moving back into our room with me.” 

I grabbed my things and walked past Dean and Sam. Sam smiled at me as I walked past and he squeezed my shoulder. 

Walking into my shared bedroom with Dean I felt a sense of peace wash over me. I felt more of the shattered pieces coming back together. 

“Okay guys, we need to talk to you all about the homework our therapist gave us. She wants mom and I to go on a long weekend away. Just the two of us to refocus and work on us, our marriage. So Sammy, if you don’t mind could you keep an eye on them?” 

“Yes, of course.” Jody looked at us and smiled, “Well guys, you’re welcome to use the cabin if you want, and I’ll keep an eye on the kids when Sammy can’t.” 

I hugged her, “Thank you. The cabin sounds great.” Delilah smiled and looked at Sam and then at Charlie. 

“We will figure out a good time for everyone so we can get away. I want to make sure schedules are lined up so nobody is inconvenienced.” 

Sam stepped closer to me, “Y/N, what would inconvenience us the most is if you and Dean separate. Y’all should go this weekend. That gives you a few days to get things in order.” I nodded.

Once it was settled I walked into the kitchen to start cooking dinner. Dean came in and leaned against the doorframe watching me. I was standing at the stove when I felt his arms snake around my waist. “Is this too much too fast? I can let go if you want me to.” “No, Dean. It’s perfect.” I leaned back into him. 

My heart beat wildly in my chest. I craved him. He spun me around to face him and he tilted my chin up, “I will always love you. You are the love of my life and I am so thankful you’re my wife, my partner, the mother of my children. Thank you for giving me a beautiful little girl and a devilishly handsome son. I will spend the rest of my life trying to be the man you deserve.” 

Delilah stood at the door and watched us. She loved watching us and seeing the love between us. Her heart ached at the pain there was between us and she was determined to help fix it. Knowing our love story, and how we needed to get away she talked to Sam and Jody about recreating the magic of that weekend where Dean and I fell in love. Sam and Jody were all for it. Charlie offered to help too. 

Jody and Sam went ahead to the cabin and got it ready. They met with the local florist to have flowers delivered to the cabin the day we were supposed to arrive.

Dean helped me finish cooking dinner and the four of us sat at the table like we used to. I couldn’t help but smile looking around the table. 

“So daddy, can we have a movie night like we used to?” Delilah asked, batting her eyes at Dean. He chuckled, “Yeah, pumpkin. That sounds perfect.” 

The four of us sat around eating and talked. Delilah said she was glad I was back home where I belonged. “I am too baby. I missed you three so much.” Dean lifted his eyes and looked at me. He smiled softly. 

Delilah took notice and looked at Charlie, “Hey rugrat, let’s go get the cave ready for movie night.” “But I’m not done eating.” “Bring it with you.” She said more sternly. She glanced between Dean and I and Charlie nodded. 

He grabbed his burger and headed out of the kitchen with Delilah.

Dean and I chuckled. “She’s not subtle.” He smirked, “No she’s not. I wonder where she got that from?” “Her daddy and Uncle Sammy.” Dean laughed. That deep, head tilted back, full of joy, belly laugh that I missed. 

“I missed this, Dean.” “Me too sweetheart.” “I’m going to clean up the kitchen before we start the movie. I should be long.” 

I stood and Dean stood. He took my hand in his, “Y/N, tell me we will get through this. I can’t lose you.” 

I took a deep breath in and slowly let it out, “Dean, we will get through this as long as we’re both willing to put in the work. This, tonight, is a big step in the right direction.” 

He nodded and cupped my face, “We were interrupted earlier. Care to continue what we started?” 

His green eyes sparkled like emeralds in the sunlight. I smiled and leaned close to him. I placed my lips softly on his and my hands found the back of his neck. Dean sighed against my lips. Each time we kiss feels like parts of the cracks start to heal.

The two of us finished cleaning the kitchen and made our way to the Dean cave holding hands. Charlie and Delilah saw us holding hands and exchanged smiles. 

Settling in for a movie, Dean offered me his arm and I slid in next to him. A small olive branch to help mend our relationship. He kissed my head and pulled me close. His fingers draw delicate patterns on my skin. 

Delilah was on his other side. Her usual place since the day she was born. Even as she’s gotten older, her relationship with Dean has gotten stronger. It has changed to grow with her, but there will never come a day where she won’t need him. 

Even in the midst of all of this pain, I am thankful she and Charlie see us working hard at mending our relationship, not just throwing it away. She’s been able to see Dean as a protector and a fighter, and someone who will always be there for her.

I looked over near the end of the movie and saw Charlie asleep on the floor and Delilah asleep against Dean. Dean’s eyes were closed too, his lips slightly parted like he was asleep. I smiled and started to get up slowly. 

With his eyes closed he smirked, “Where are you going?” 

I giggled, “I’m going to get blankets to cover the three of you up.” “I’m not asleep, besides, I’m not missing the first night of you back in our bed.” I chuckled softly, “Fair enough, but I need to cover them up before we do.” 

I stood and he slipped off the couch, carefully laying Delilah down. We grabbed blankets and put them on the kids. Dean turned off the tv and the light.

We went to our bedroom. The door closes behind Dean with a click. I walked to my dresser and pulled out some clean underwear, and an oversized shirt. “I’m going to jump in the shower before bed.” Dean smirked, “Okay sweetheart. Enjoy.” I nodded and walked into the bathroom. Part of me wanted Dean to come in and the other part knew it wasn’t a good idea yet. We still had so much work to do before we had sex again. No matter how much I wanted it. 

When I finished my shower I walked into the bedroom and saw Dean leaning against the headboard. He was shirtless and in his gray sweatpants. The ones that drive me crazy without him even trying. He smiled at me as I bit my lip. “Did you enjoy your shower, sweetheart?” “Yeah, I did. It was great.” 

He pulled the blanket back on my side and motioned for me to slide in. I climbed in the bed and he slid down, taking me in his arms. “Baby, I hope you know I’m not expecting anything. I’m just glad you’re back where you belong. Sleeping right next to me.” 

“I know, Dean. I’ve missed sleeping here. I love you and I know you’re not expecting anything. I do want you, more than anything, but I think we should wait.” He nodded his head in understanding. “Come on sweetheart, let’s get some sleep.” I nodded and snuggled closer to his side.  

Drifting off to a better sleep. Better than I’ve had in a while. 

The next morning Dean and I were packing and planning our trip. I was excited and a little nervous. Dean and I hadn’t been on a trip alone since before Delilah was born. 

“Okay, so you two are going to be okay with Uncle Sammy and Aunt Jody? You have everything you need, right?” 

Delilah smiled, “Relax mom. We are going to be just fine. You and dad need to focus on you two. Don’t worry about us. We are in very capable hands.” I nodded. 

Dean carried out bags out and I noticed the way his biceps flexed under his shirt as he walked past. 

My breath hitched and I licked my lips. Delilah smirked, “Dad’s a total babe, isn’t he mom?” My head spun and I looked at her. My face flushed red, “Delilah Rose!” “What?! I can see how you look at him mom. I hope one day I have a love as great as you two have.” 

I cupped her face, “You will sweetie, I promise.” 

Dean walked in and said “She will what?” Before I could answer Delilah smirked and said “Oh a husband that’s a total babe like you so I can undress him with my eyes like mom just did you.” 

Dean laughed loudly and I covered my face. “That is not what I said.” “You didn’t have to mom.” She winked at me. 

Dean flashed a smile at me and walked over, taking me in his arms, “You were undressing me, were you?” I hid my face in his chest. He smiled as he pulled me close. 

We said our goodbyes and we took off in the Impala. Dean grabbed my hand and interlaced our fingers. “Ready sweetheart?” I nodded and he hit the gas. 

As we drove closer to the cabin, memories of that weekend played in my mind like a silent movie. I looked out the window and over at Dean and smiled. He’d steal glances at me and his memories of that weekend ran through his head too. 

Since that weekend, we’d been through so much, getting married, having babies, raising them, now we were faced with the prospect of our marriage not surviving if we didn’t put in the work. 

Dean was willing to do whatever it took to keep his marriage going. 

I was staring out the window and saw our favorite take out place. Dean saw it too and pulled in. I smiled. 

“Should we eat here or get it to go?” I asked softly. “I think we should get it to go.” I nodded. 

We walked in and ordered the food. Not much had changed in the restaurant. More dust covered items hanging from the wall, the carpet was worn, but the woman behind the register was just as sweet as she had been. 

She remembered Dean and I and asked how we had been. Dean beamed with pride when he told her about the kids and how we were getting away for a romantic weekend, just the two of us. 

She smiled, nodded and held up her finger. Dean and I shared a confused look. 

She returned with a small bamboo plant and handed it to Dean. “This is for good fortune, growth and resilience. You two will be okay. I see love. Strong love.” She smiled at us and Dean thanked her. 

A few minutes later we were back in the car with the food. 

I sat with the plant in my hand thinking about her words. She was right, there was definitely strong love still there. 

We pulled up at the cabin as the sun was beginning to set. Dean and I started to carry things in and as we walked in I gasped. 

There were blankets spread out on the floor, battery operated candles everywhere, and beautiful flowers on the counter. I looked at Dean and smiled. 

Walking to the kitchen I put the food down and grabbed the card attached to the flowers. I read it and smiled. “What does it say sweetheart?” 

I read it out loud: “Mom and Dad, we hope you love the flowers and the blankets. We want you two to be as comfortable as possible while you’re falling in love again. We love you both. Love Delilah and Charlie.” 

Dean smiled, “Those sneaks. I bet Sammy and Jody had a hand in this too.” I smiled, “probably.”

We unpacked the food and Dean carried it to the blankets. “I’m gonna start a fire.” He stood and grabbed some wood. “Huh, there isn’t enough for the whole weekend. I’ll have to chop some tomorrow.” I giggled, “I wouldn’t mind seeing that.” 

Dean looked at me and smirked, “Well then I guess I better put on a show then.” I touched his arm, “I can’t wait.” 

We ate dinner and talked. Remembering the therapist’s advice about talking about us and not focusing all our energy on the kids. At first it was hard but we eventually started talking about us and how we fix our relationship. We laughed and we cried. 

Dean stood and walked over to the record player. He turned on Led Zeppelin’s Since I’ve Been Loving You. He offered me his hand and I stood and took it. 

We swayed and he held me tight as he sang along to the lyrics. As the song ended he dipped me and I smiled. “We made it without falling this time.” “Oh sweetheart, I never stopped falling.” 

My heart fluttered and I gasped softly. Dean leaned forward and kissed my lips. 

Lifting me up he walked me backwards towards the blankets that covered the ground. The light of the fire casting shadows around the room. 

He gently laid me down and hovered over me. “You’re more beautiful than the first time we were here. You’ve given me an incredible life and two amazing children. I love you more than anything. I’ve loved you since the minute I laid eyes on you and I still can’t believe you chose me.” 

I looked up at him. His eyes full of love and regret. Dean leaned down and slowly kissed my lips. The kiss healing more of the cracks in the foundation of our love. I knew he was sorry and he regretted everything he said. It still hurt, but our love was worth fighting for. He was worth fighting for. 

My hands found the back of his neck and I pulled him down. The kiss between us turned heavy and needy quickly. 

Dean’s hand slipped down and to the hem of my shirt. He stopped and I nodded against his lips. 

His hand slid under my shirt and left a trail of goosebumps in its wake. 

Within minutes our clothes were discarded and Dean was hovering over me with lust filled eyes. His eyes scanned mine for any sign of hesitation. I saw his question and cupped his face, leaned up and kissed his lips. “Dean, I’m ready if you are. I love you and I want you.” 

The look in his eyes quickly changed back to need and want. Positioning himself between my thighs he lifted my legs and pushed in slowly. 

My fingers grabbed his biceps and my head tilted back as I moaned his name. 

His head found the crook of my neck as he stilled. “Baby you feel so good.” 

We made love over and over until we were both exhausted. 

“Dean, that was incredible.” I rolled over and kissed his lips. “Baby, I love you so much and I’m so sorry I hurt you. You didn’t deserve anything I said to you. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had left me for good.” 

I placed my hand on his cheek, “Dean Winchester, you are the love of my life. Yes you can be an ass sometimes, but I could never nor would I ever leave you. I understand why you did it and I forgive you.” 

Dean’s eyes filled with tears and they silently fell. “I don’t deserve you, sweetheart.” “Yes you do. You deserve me, our children, Bubbles, and the beautiful life we’ve built together. Don’t ever forget that. You saved the world. So you, Dean Winchester deserve so much more.” 

Dean pulled me in his arms and threw a blanket over us. “Want to sleep out here tonight?” I snuggled closer and nodded, “I’m quite comfortable right here.” 

The two of us fell asleep, our bodies tangled together in front of the orange glow of the fire. 

The next morning we woke up to the sounds of the birds singing and the sun shining through the large ceiling to floor windows. 

Dean stretched and looked at me. “Good morning, beautiful. How’d you sleep?” I smiled, “Better than I have in a very long time.” He kissed my lips, “Me too, baby. Well I better go chop some firewood. Want to watch?” He wiggled his eyebrows at me and I smiled. 

“You better believe it.” I giggled as I stood up with the blanket wrapped around me. “First I’m going to take a shower. Want to join me?” 

He grinned and as I took off down the hall he came bounding behind me. Our laughter and giggles filled the cabin. When Dean caught up to me he pulled me in his arms and kissed me. Our chests rising and falling, trying to catch our breath. “Sweetheart, I love hearing you laugh. It’s been too long since I was the cause of it. Thank you for not giving up on me or us. I love you.” I placed my hands on his firm chest, “Dean I’ll never give up on you or us. I love you too.” 

Back at Jody’s house the kids were settling in for the weekend. They decided to hang with Jody and the girls since Sammy and Eileen were working late. Jody noticed Delilah was very quiet over breakfast and pulled her to the side to talk to her. 

She hadn’t had a chance to talk to her alone since all the stuff happened with Jaxon and Adam. 

Delilah was sitting on the bed in the guest room and was on her phone. Jody knocked on the door, “Hey sweetie. Can I come in?” Delilah nodded. 

“How are you doing, baby girl? I know a lot has happened lately.” Delilah shrugged, “I guess I’m okay. I just feel so guilty mom and dad are having problems. This almost broke them. They have always been so in love and they almost split up because of me.” Her tears started to fall. 

Jody grabbed her hand, “Hey, no. This isn’t your fault. None of this was your fault. I don’t care if you snuck out and danced naked in the streets, he had no right to put his hands on you. Neither one of them did. As far as your parents, sweetie, they will work it out. I’ve known your dad for years and he can be a jackass sometimes, but he is head over heels in love with your mother. He’s going to do whatever he has to in order to make it right.” 

Delilah took a deep breath, “Thank you, Aunt Jody. This is just so hard.” “I know honey. I went through the same thing. I was about twenty and went to a friend's party. I remember getting a drink, and then the next thing I remember was waking up to a boy on top of me. I screamed and fought, but I passed out again. The next morning I woke up naked and bruised. I was so ashamed, but therapy and a great family helped me through it. You have that right here. So many people love you and are here for you. You’ve got this sweetie. After all, you’re a Winchester.” 

Delilah smiled and hugged Jody. “Thank you, Aunt Jody. Thank you for telling me and reminding me what I have.” 

Sam had stopped by to check on the kids and to make sure they had everything they needed. Charlie asked Sam if he could talk to him for a minute and Sam nodded. 

Sam and Charlie went outside and sat on the porch. “What’s up buddy?” “Uncle Sam, no one will tell me exactly what happened to Delilah. All I know is it was really bad. I just want to know so I can help her.” 

“I get it bud, but it’s not my place to tell you. Just be there for her and help her when she asks for it.” Charlie nodded, “Okay. Thanks Uncle Sammy.” 

Sam ruffled Charlie’s hair, “Anytime buddy.” They stood up and as they got to the door Charlie turned and looked back at Sam, “Uncle Sammy, I might not know exactly what happened to Delilah, but I can promise you nothing will ever hurt her again. I’ll make sure of that.” 

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[mostlysignssomeportents]

Hugh D’Andrade’s “The Murder Next Door”

I'm about to leave for a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me on Feb 14 in BOSTON for FREE at BOSKONE , and on Feb 15 for a virtual event with YANIS VAROUFAKIS. More tour dates here.

Hugh D'Andrade is a brilliant visual communicator, the art director responsible for the look-and-feel of EFF's website. He's also haunted by a murder – the killing of the mother of his childhood playmates, which cast a long, long shadow over his life, as he recounts in his debut graphic novel, The Murder Next Door:

https://www.streetnoisebooks.com/the-murder-next-door-a-graphic-memoir

In 1978, Hugh was a normal ten year old, always drawing and obsessed with riding his dirt bike around his quiet suburban neighborhood. The brothers next door, Derek and Ari, were his constant playmates. One day, he came home from school to find them standing on the lawn. The brothers were crying, arguing. When Hugh asked them what was going on, Derek said there was a dead body in their house, then Ari quickly said, "It's someone else, Derek, it's not her." Ari insisted that it was their mother.

As they argued, Derek told Hugh to go inside and look for himself. That's how he found the dead body of his next door neighbor.

This became the defining moment of Hugh's life. For the rest of his life, he felt like there was a before-Hugh and an after-Hugh, the Hugh before the trauma and the Hugh after it. Passing strangers on the street, he wonders about their rifts, the moments that transformed them, that haunt them.

After finding the body, Hugh ran to his own parents, who called the police, gathered in Derek and Ari, and took charge of the situation. When the dust settled, Derek and Ari had disappeared, sent off to a neighbor's place. A week later, when Hugh returned to school, a classmate told him that the whole school had "decided not to talk about it." So he didn't.

But he was haunted by the murder, seized by spasms of fear that the murderer would return for him. He threw tantrums, broke things, smashed things. His parents said it was "just a phase." He interrogated his parents relentlessly about what they would do if the murderer came back. Their answers were meant to reassure him, but failed. Life went on. Whispers blamed his neighbor's husband – a doctor who was at the hospital at the time of the killing – for the murder.

Murder Next Door is told in a series of interleaved scenes of Hugh's childhood, his adolescence, his contemporary therapy sessions, his life today in Oakland. He interrogates his own motivations for engaging endlessly with online conspiracists. He reflects on the years he spent with his mother, campaigning for the Equal Rights Amendment, and how that informed both his lifelong feminist beliefs, and his view of the murder of a woman in the house next door. He comes to see a pathway from harassment and sexist remarks to sexual violence and murder, and to notice how the boys at school exhibited the same sexist attitudes that he was noticing in wider society. He struggles to figure out what masculinity is, and what kind of man he wants to be – a strong man, who protects women from men like the murderer? But the murderer was a strong man, too.

As a young activist campaigning against the first Gulf War, Hugh becomes militant, aggressive, trying to bully his classmates into caring about the conflict as much as he does – to care about the innocents whose blood was about to shed in their name. Their indifference makes him relive, over and over, the murder of his neighbor. It's as though he knew in advance that she was about to be killed and couldn't get anyone else to care about it.

Eventually, as an adult DNA analysis identified the killer, a long-dead man who had done some upholstery work for the family a few weeks before the murder. Some of Hugh's nightmares go away.

The Murder Next Door is a haunting, beautiful meditation on masculinity, trauma, and fear. Hugh is a superb illustrator, particularly when it comes to bringing abstract ideas to life (which is why he's so valued at the EFF!), and this is a tale beautifully told (with permission from Derek and Ari and other family members). It's an extraordinary book.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/10/pivot-point/#eff

[the-kingshound]

I hope my criticism (more like opposing opinion because I fully acknowledge that this story is your creation) doesn't derail things/come across as if I'm trying to insult you but I'm not a fan of Arthur being trans or labelled as a lesbian.

It's definitely a subjective opinion of mine that with historical fiction I like having a well known constant, while that is my preference, I realise that fiction is fiction and not every or even most historical fiction works will be for me. But even though Arthur is generally more fiction than fact anyway, I think long repeated legends of a particular figure should be respected. But again: fiction is fiction.

The whole trans and lesbian thing is a separate issue. Trans, straight, gay, bi and lesbian are rooted in sex not gender and blurring the lines is just erasure the long way round. As a bi woman I already feel that social media has destroyed what it means to be bi and made everyone pan, the same is happening with lesbians imo. To be homosexual, you are sexually attracted to the same sex and for heterosexuals it's the opposite. If an individual couple decides to shirk all labels between themselves then that literally has no bearing on anyone else and I have literally no problem with what individual couples get up to beyond both parties consenting but the idea that everyone should partake in such loose labelling is the very antithesis of language. We give meaning to sound so we can all understand eachother. If everything is without a label how can a person discern or describe anything?

I went on a bit about sexuality but onto gender expression, it was very important historically as in a lot of importance was put on it at the time but from a modern perspective a feminine man does not immediately mean a trans woman and while I have no idea what your narrative choices are, I hope that it's not just because Arthur isn't a knuckle dragging bore in your story that he can't be a man.

To be trans, as in medically alternating sex characteristics, automatically means a rejection of your birth sex. Dress sense, hobbies and occupation has nothing to do with that hence the very real warrior women and nurturing men in both human past and present that are at peace with their birth sex.

Wall of text over, just wanted to add my opinions into the mix.

Hi, thank you for sending this in!

But even though Arthur is generally more fiction than fact anyway, I think long repeated legends of a particular figure should be respected.

I think I am respecting Arthuriana, not by making it as accurate as possible to the original legends or historically accurate (and even then, Arthuriana was born centuries after the time period it was set in, with Arthur Pendragon not being an historical figure at all). I am respecting Arthuriana by taking its characters, rewriting the story, making them relive a thousand years after the legends were set - as many authors have done before me.

I do not believe making Arthuriana as historically accurate as possible would be the only way to respect it.

We give meaning to sound so we can all understand eachother. If everything is without a label how can a person discern or describe anything?

I agree, however labels are always just a way to try to convey something that is deeply personal, and in the LGBT community more than most, it's difficult to make a definition that works on anyone - without exceptions or variations. At the end of the day, the way a person is comes first, not their label. And even then, finding the right label can sometimes take years, especially when one is assumed to be conforming to the current set standards of being.

In this case, Arthur simply would need years to explore themselves, their gender identity in all its complexity.

To be trans, as in medically alternating sex characteristics, automatically means a rejection of your birth sex.

Being trans doesn't necessarily mean medically transitioning. In Arthur's case, while being AMAB, she would simply want to be adressed by she/they pronouns, and find herself more comfortable with identifying in a feminine way. In regards to their transition, they will do whatever makes them feel more comfortable in their body.

Dress sense, hobbies and occupation has nothing to do with that hence the very real warrior women and nurturing men in both human past and present that are at peace with their birth sex.

I very much agree with that, but in Arthur's case this doesn't apply. Arthur, cis or trans, is the same person. Same personality traits, same hobbies - some that could be considered more feminine, some more masculine. They do not define them.

It's Arthur who chooses how to define themselves, in the way that feels most true to what they are.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Hello! Hope not to bother with this ask but I read most of your analysis and I really love them. While I don't always feel the same about some things, I really like how you take the situation and look into aspects that may not be easy for everyone to see.

I also wholly agree with the "it's the writing and execution, not the concept or the characters' fault" point. I hope it doesn't come off as rude, but I really enjoy comparing views and points and while reading your post about the ladynoir conflict in season 4, I had some thoughts sparkling so I wanted to see your view on them. I also hope it makes sense how I present these points, since English is not my motherlanguage. You mention how Ladybug doesn't know that she's doing wrong and that there are various instances of her caring about Chat Noir and trying to make him feel more important. I see the point you were making and I honestly also see that Chat Noir's writing played a huge part in Ladybug acting like she did on certain situations, however I also often think about Season 4 ending. Ladybug is having a break down and she says that she distanced Chat Noir on purpose. I honestly think this is one more proof the writers didn't know what they were doing with the plotline, especially since Ladybug herself in Kuro Neko says she never realized. But as she is saying she was aware, instead, wouldn't it go against her not being aware? I guess probably my ask is more like a reinforcement of the writers having no idea about how to handle the plotline, and not a real comparison of views since we really see the series saying opposite things at the same time. But I kinda wanted to see what you thought about the idea of Ladybug/Marinette being written instead as aware of the distance she put and the lack of guilt in this circumstance. (At least, I didn't see any if this was what the writers were going for)

Like, taking Hack-san. She did a very long list for Alya on how to do stuff and collaborate to Chat Noir, even laugh at his jokes, and maybe it was shown to prove she does care, but at the same time she... never warned him she was leaving? I get she was in a rush but going to the bathroom for a 1 second call would show her consideration over the topic. At the end of the episode, she apologizes for revealing her identity but not for never warning him, not showing up to patrols without telling him... and when he opens up about his fear of losing her without having the chance to know something happened, there isn't some sort of solution offered? I know that the show's writing never really wanted to portray Chat Noir on an equal basis, but maybe it would be the right chance for her to show him she does trust and considers him an equal. Maybe telling him he can say the truth to someone so they both have someone to warn the other if something happens, or so that they're not surprised by new holders if one didn't tell about needing to step away from action. Sorry the rambling! I just think that the writers really made a mess in trying to show she cares but never in the actual things she could really show it, like by simply including him in crucial info like Rena Furtive. Like, we get confirmation she doesn't sees him as equal anymore in the first part of the season 4 finale, but he was once his supposed equal? Or was meant to? So does she effectively put a willing distance between them? I also think often about Ephemeral, because I get that they want to write quirky Ladybug that exaggerates in her plans but making Chat Noir reveal his identity to someone else without his knowledge by aknowledging also his crush as a way to get him to reveal... feels like a huge manipulation that I think wouldn't be necessary if they wanted to show she cares genuinely? Like, she could just ask him and explain the situation? Like, for the purpose of creating the drama, the writers forgot that at that point their bond should be solid enough for something at least as basic as communication? I guess my point after all this, is that while I get where you come from when saying she wasn't aware of how Chat was feeling and some stuff she has done, I feel like she definitely should have in certain situations? Especially because in many instances it feels that the writers were indeed holding true to her putting willingly distance and excluding him, and never really feeling guilty. I don't know, maybe I'm casually rambling nonsense, but I really would like to hear your view about this!

I completely understand where you're coming from. My seasons four rant was about the way canon chose to portray Marinette's awareness of the situation, not about how valid her obliviousness was for her character. I think some of it makes sense, but there are also a lot of moments that feel like poor characterization. Hack-San is a perfect example. The season literally opens with Chat Noir leaving Ladybug messages on her bug phone, establishing that this is a thing that they can do:

Scene: Ladybug yoyos to Montparnasse Tower. She sees Mr. Pigeon and checks her voicemail. Cat Noir: (on voicemail) Hey you, Bugaboo! Well, here I am, your faithful companion at our rendezvous point just like always. It's time for our daily patrol, I hope you haven't forgotten! 

I don't think we'd ever seen this before. It feels like an element they're adding to set up for something later. And yet, when the time comes to use it, we get nothing. Marinette just leaves town without even thinking about warning Chat Noir. Which makes no sense when you remember that this is all happening after the New York special where Marinette took time to tell Chat Noir that she was going out of town:

Cat Noir: You're going away?! Ladybug: Only for a few days. It's nothing important, kitty-cat! But I can't tell you anymore, in- Cat Noir: In order to protect our secret identities. I know the drill, M'Lady. Ladybug: But in case, anything happens in Paris, an akumatized villain, a Sentimonster, anything... All you have to do is click here and I'll come back as fast as I can. For emergencies only, of course! (Cat Noir presses the remote button several times in excitement, making the toy in Ladybug's hand squeak)

The New York special also saw Chat Noir fail to tell Ladybug that he was leaving town, leading to Paris being defenseless during a sentimonster attack!

Everything about the New York special should logically lead to the heroes having a hard rule about informing each other when they're leaving town. And yet, that rule apparently doesn't exist. Why not?

The only logical reason is that the writers wanted to have Chat Noir attack Scarabella when he sees her for the first time, so Marinette had to keep him in the dark otherwise that scene wouldn't work. Her bad behavior was done for the gag, not because it made sense for her character.

This is why I can get so defensive of the characters. It is, as always, not a matter of defending their specific actions. It's more about looking at the broad story and getting upset at how inconsistently they've been portrayed. The writers don't seem to care about honoring personality traits they've established, honoring past events, or even just logically setting up their supposed plots! The characters will do or say whatever is needed to make a given episode work regardless of how out of character those actions are or how little sense it all makes.

The season four ending rant is another great example:

Ladybug: Why don't you just give up on me? I've lost ALL the Miraculous! I'm the worst Guardian EVER! I wanted to control everything, I didn't listen to you, I lied to you, I kept you at a distance! Every time you offered me a helping hand, I never took it! I really made a mess of EVERYTHING! (continues sobbing)

This rant backs up a lot of people's feelings about the season four conflict, but it doesn't back up the way the season four conflict was actually written. Let's ignore the stuff that focuses on Ladybug's actions for a moment and instead focus on this line about Chat Noir's actions

Every time you offered me a helping hand, I never took it!

When exactly did he do this? Might I remind you, season four opened with this:

Ladybug: Will you cut it out with the practical jokes? I could have really hurt you! Cat Noir:(answering while hanging by the yo-yo) M'lady, the only thing that really hurts me is when you make me go on patrol by myself. (sighs, relaxing his posture) I even missed your little angry pout. Ladybug: Sorry, Kitty Cat, I'm a bit over my head at the moment. (pulling him up) Cat Noir: I bet! "Guardian of the Miraculous", big name, big responsibility! Ladybug:(helping him up) I promise, I won't ever forget our patrols again. (Cat Noir winks at her, both head to defeat the villain) Cat Noir: Woohoo!

And this:

Truth: Cat Noir, tell me what- (interrupted by Ladybug throwing a present at Truth) Ladybug: (covering her parasol with foil) ...do you think about my new role as guardian! Cat Noir: If it doesn't change things between us, then I'm good with it!

Ah, yes, he's really stepping up here and offering to help her! What a wonderful partner! If only Ladybug had taken the help he offered here, then things would have been so much better!

To be clear, I'm not actually mad at Chat Noir for these moments, they just really highlight how bad the writing is. The opening episodes of a season should be the setup for the season conflict. In this example, Chat Noir should have been constantly asking to take on more responsibility. Instead, the season opens with him telling Ladybug to maintain their status quo, which she then does, and yet that's somehow a problem?

Since season two, the status quo has been that Ladybug knows everything while Chat Noir is kept in the dark and just shows up for fights. I think that was a terrible choice, but it's still what canon went with! The Chat-Noir-feels-left-out conflict isn't even new. It was already addressed back in Syren:

Cat Noir: This is so dumb! (stands up) Claws in. (detransforms) Plagg: (groans) What's taking her so long? (Adrien holds up his hands to Plagg, and starts to pull off his ring a little bit) Whoa, easy! W-What are you doing?! Adrien: (grimly) If you don't tell me what Ladybug is hiding from me, I'm done! Plagg: You can't do that! Adrien: (bitterly) Why not? No one'll know if I quit. No one'll care! Plagg: I will! Adrien: Why? (cynically) Because you won't have anyone to give you Camembert? Plagg: Oh, I'm sure there'll be another Cat Noir to give me cheese... (pauses, and turns to Adrien) ...but he won't be you. (Adrien's expression softens) Master Fu: (suddenly appears next to Adrien) Hello, Cat Noir. (Adrien turns and gasps in shock) Adrien: You! You're the man who— Master Fu: (holds up a vial of bright green potion) I'll explain everything, I promise. But right now, you must go and help Ladybug! (He gives the vial to Adrien and he takes it)

This episode ends with Master Fu visiting Adrien and, after that, this conflict seems to go away in favor of Chat Noir wanting a romantic relationship. Bringing the Chat-Noir-feels-left-out conflict back in season four is extra annoying to me because what even was the point of Syren then? What did Adrien and Master Fu even talk about? Why wasn't it enough? And if Chat Noir has always wanted more responsibility, then why didn't he take Ladybug's guardian promotion as an opportunity to ask for more responsibility? Why wasn't season four filled with instances of Chat Noir trying to step up only to have Ladybug reject him? Why are the writers completely failing to write the conflict they claim to be writing?

You can find lots of little moments to back up the idea that Ladybug should have done better in season four. The issue isn't that they're not there. The issue is that the writing completely fails to make them feel like informed choices. Things Marinette did knowing that this was a bad call or even just a good call that would also hurt Chat Noir. Instead, she's always portrayed as oblivious to the problems her actions might cause which makes it real hard for me to get mad at her.

For example, I personally think it was asinine that Marinette told Alya everything. Not because I don't like Alya, but because Alya's identity had just been revealed to the supervillain! In my book, that's an instant disqualification for being given privileged information. Logically speaking, that is the identity reveal that should have lead to bad things. Instead, for some reason, Alya telling Nino was the problem.

To add an extra layer of annoyance, when Chat Noir learns that Ladybug has told someone her identity, he isn't even mad about it! He doesn't ask for a similar free pass or ask why not him. We get nothing to paint this as Marinette making a wrong move or as her "pushing him away" like she'll claim she did in the final. Instead, we just get Chat Noir saying that he's sad that Ladybug could quit and he'd never see her again:

Ladybug: I'm really sorry, Cat Noir. I should've told you. I mean, if I found out that you told someone about your secret identity, I'd... probably be upset, too. I'm really sorry I hurt your feelings. Cat Noir: You didn't hurt my feelings. You did everything right. Paris will always need a Ladybug superhero to watch over her. It's just... I realized that if one day that hero wasn't you, m'lady, since we don't know each other's identities, that means... I'd never see you again. Ever. And now, I just don't know if I can bear it. Ladybug: I'll never abandon you, kitty cat. (smiles)

The writers of Miraculous ask you to please forget about this exchange while watching the Kwamis Choice two-part episode in which both Chat Noir and Ladybug quit without saying goodbye to each other and where they also never feel guilty about or apologize for that choice. Heck, don't even think about this during Kuro Neko which comes a mere seven episodes later and features Chat Noir quitting without saying goodbye or finding a replacement. Rules for thee and not for me, my Lady?

Once again, I'm not actually mad at Adrien for that, it's just a wild choice to have him make when he claims that never seeing Ladybug again would be something he couldn't bear. That's not a good setup for him quitting and the seven episodes between these two don't tell a story that makes his change in attitude work. Kuro Neko is episode 23 and episode 21 - Dearest Family - has this as its ending, showing Ladynoir having no problems:

Cat Noir: (grabs a golden paper crown on the coffee table) Since I'm the king, would you be my queen, Ladybug? Ladybug: With pleasure, kitty cat! Tradition is tradition! (Cat Noir puts on the paper crown lucky charm on Ladybug.) Ladybug and Cat Noir: Pound it!

And episode 22 - Ephemeral - has Adrien thinking that missing a battle is a big deal:

Adrien: I hope Ladybug didn't need me. Plagg, claws out! (transforms into Cat Noir) (He opens his cat phone.) Cat Noir: Fourteen messages? She must be furious. (calls Ladybug) Ladybug: (on the phone) Finally! Cat Noir: I know what you're about to say, Ladybug, but— Ladybug: (on the phone) Nevermind! We got through it. That's all that matters. But we do need to talk. Meet me at the top of the Eiffel Tower.

Making it really weird when he goes on to purposely skip battles in Kuro Neko. That might have worked if he was hurt when Ladybug wasn't upset in Ephemeral, but he's not. If anything, he's relieved making it really weird when he's upset about the team in the next freaking episodes!

Cat Noir: (upon landing on top of the Eiffel Tower) I'm sorry, but I really couldn't make it earlier. Ladybug: (waves) Hey, no big deal! That's the good thing about a team. It's not the two of us anymore! Cat Noir: Oh, yeah! So then, why did you need me exactly?

There's also the fact that neither of these two episodes see Chat Noir try to take on a bigger role in the team. He seems fine with his lot so it's once again really weird when Kuro Neko has him quitting after Ladybug doesn't immediately give him more responsibility. In fact, I think Kuro Neko might actually be the only episode in the season where he asks for more responsibility, meaning that he quits after being turned down once. (If there are other times, let me know in the comments or a reblog! Everything I could think of was him complaining to Plagg, but telling Ladybug nothing which is not how you write a good conflict. It's how you write Marinette being held to a totally unreasonable standard.)

I could go on for days listing examples like this. Nino, Adrien, Marinette, Alya, Gabriel, Sabine, and many others have moments I can do this with. Moments where I pull up an episode that establishes A only to follow it with a later episode that completely ignores A without any real logic to back the change. It's infuriating and is, once again, why I defend the characters so much. Your annoyance is totally valid, I just ask you to look at the big picture and see that this is a systemic issue that effects everyone, making it really hard for me to hold any character accountable for their worst actions because then if have to do it for all of them and that's just not fun. I often hate the same things that the character-specific salters hate and understand the resulting salt, I just can't get in on the salt because it's so obviously a writing issue and not an carefully crafted character beat.

As an example, I recently saw someone get mad at Marinette for not planning around someone getting her yo-yo even though she took the time to plan around the Kwamis getting lost and it's just like, my dear, that is what we call a plot hole or poor characterization. She is a fictional character. This was not an actual planning failure. This was the writers needing her to lose so they warped the rules and her character to make her fail. She is not allowed to make logical plans if the writers need her to lose just like Alya can only be observant when the writers want the plot to progress. Get a little perspective.

(Note I'm using "you" as a general term and not speaking directly to anyone)

[numberonetacostan]

I feel like Pickle tried to learn to speak French back in season 1. He saw they got along and really wanted to better understand her. By the end of the season, he was near fluent, and was planning on surprising Taco with the fact he learned French just to be able to talk fully with her! Only for the season 1 finale to come around and, y'know.

Caption: Pickle: Salut, Taco! Je voulais vous surprendre en apprenant le français ! de cette façon, nous pouvons mieux communiquer !- (Hi Taco! I wanted to surprise you by learning french! This way we can communicate better!-) Taco: fck off After the finale, he only uses this French, for example, playing a game or watching a movie that has French in it. It's very rusty due to a lack of practice. I feel like Microphone knows the basics of French but has less motivation to learn it since Taco does speak English incredibly well. This is the first drawing i ever did of taco btw:

Hi Moldy!!^^ Welcome back, and thank you for sending in an ask with your art!!! :D!!!! I love them!!!!!!! <3 I like the warm colour palette a lot!!!!! The next time you send in an ask, please tell Loomy what program you draw on! ;P

Oh my god that's so sad. He works so hard to speak good French nice and fast to better connect with her and help her communicate with him and everyone else and. She spoke English the entire bloody time. He'd probably lose the skill by the time she comes to apologize, since he'd actively avoid practicing his French when all t does is remind him of her, yeah? Maybe helps OJ and Paper assemble some furniture with instructions in French or something, though.

Mic knows a bit of French words and phrases from Taco and isn't too interested in knowing more pre-breakup, but I think after they're together again she'd put in more effort, at least after she learns that Taco spoke French with Mepad and writes her diary in French, yeah? Sometimes it's easier for someone to communicate in a different language, and if Taco can express her emotions easier in French, then Mic is gonna study up for her!!

[strangerthingsfanworkrecs]

I would love to recommend @tomtomslongdong as a *reader* highlight. It is always such a joy to see what they’re reading but also to read whatever comments and tags they leave behind. Let alone to be a writer and receive their feedback. One of the greatest supporters in the fandom, truly if no one else cares for a fic I wrote but they enjoyed it, it’s like the ultimate stamp of approval.

This week, we're highlighting @tomtomslongdong as a commenter! All recs this week will be from her recs.

Tomtom answered some questions about what she does to find fics and to leave great comments under the cut

Why Stranger Things?

I went from casual watcher in anticipation of season 4 coming out to falling in love with all the characters in the space of a few weeks. Friendship, loyalty and messy family dynamics are such a core part of st, which is something I latch onto when I’m watching anything. And maybe.. there were some characters(Eddie) that I grew even more fond of(definitely Eddie). I even remember seeing edits of Eddie at the picnic table but it wasn’t until I had watched that first episode of season 4 that I truly got it. It’s been 84 years but I’m still in love with that man.

What's your favorite ship (platonic or romantic) to read?

I read x reader the most but I adore platonic stobin and I wanna read about them more. Their dynamic is everything to me. Infact Robin with any of the st girls too. I look up this one fanart of robin and Carol Perkins a lot. A LOT.

How do you typically find fics?

At the start I would brave the tags more and I do still do that but genuinely it’s from blogs I like and follow reblogging them. I’ve curated my own little balance of people reading stuff I know I’ll like and also being introduced to fics I might not have even thought of reading before seeing their reactions.

Are there other forms of fanart you enjoy? How do you find them?

Fanart that’s been inspired by fics or concepts, just witnessing one artist inspire another is so joyful. Also when an artists self inserts themselves into their art! It’s seriously one of the coolest things ever. My favourite thing to do is trawling the tags of an eddie blog as I go on a deep dive. I scrape the barnacles off that boat allllll the way back to the start. I find all sorts of fanart and work that maybe I’ve never seen as I didn’t gravitate back to tumblr till later in summer ‘22.

What's your tip for leaving comments on works?

Just tell them how it made you feel man. Scream it at the writers. I’m no good at articulating myself at all but sometimes you read the exact thing you needed to read and all is right with the world. Let them know they’re very much to blame for your emotional state when they post. And who knows those writers might occasionally grace you with the biggest gift of all (more lore on the world they’ve built directly from their mind via an IV drip known as the DMs)

Is there any fanwork that really stood out to you?

hockey!eddie has an iron tight grip on me and if anyone could find the stats on how many times I’ve viewed dr-aculaaa and hearsegrrl art on him, you’d take my phone away

Is there anything we didn't ask that you'd like to add?

Just that it’s wild, there’s this little community in my phone that’s so smart? So talented? And I’ve formed what I hope I can call genuine friendships from this and yet no one in my day to day real life knows I’m just kicking around in here haha! I get to be my weirdo self with my weirdo friends in peace and I think that’s lovely.

[worfs-glorious-hair]

Gale and the impossible choice

Some Gale musings I wrote just after I went down to the mindflayer colony in the act 2 finale and Gale mentioned that we will soon find the heart of the Absolute and I began to wonder what goes through his mind there at this point in the story. I also realised that we as the galemancing community do not talk about this moment and it’s angsty potential there enough. So I went to change it.

Gale x Tav/Reader they/them, no physical descriptions, no class mention, angst, considering using the orb, hurt/ not yet-comfort, whump (?), act 2 finale, canon-typical themes and implied violence (?), Mystra mentions :(

So, what does Gale feel when he does not want to go through with using the orb for the heart of the Absolute but thinks that he does not have a choice? (AKA bomb score is down)

My love, my only love, know that I will love you until my very last breath. Know that you are the only one I love.

Remember me when I am gone.

Tav, you are sleeping next to me and I hope you are dreaming of me. Maybe you are dreaming of the life we will never have. The life I will never have. I hope you will have it. A life in the sun and the goodness of the world, with no shadows and no tadpoles.

Maybe you will remember the fool who loved you once. Maybe you’ll remember my kisses. I will remember yours, your lips on my skin, your tender words, your warmth, your touch, your love when the times comes…

Gale sighed as he crossed out what he had written on a page that he had teared off from an old, mouldy smelling book with water stains on the cover.

How should he ever find the right words to explain what he did not wanted to do and yet planned on doing?

A simple truth that complicated everything – he did not want to die! Not anymore.

It could have been so easy, would Mystra had commanded him to destroy the heart of the Absolute just a few months ago he would have done it without hesitation, without doubt.

Anything for Mystra’s forgiveness. Anything for her embrace.

Thank the gods that were still willing to listen that she hasn’t.

Because he would have done it and would have been irreversibly gone from this realm now. He would not have gotten abducted by a mindflayer nautiloid then, would not have gotten stuck in a stone in a portal between the realms and he would have never been rescued by the kindest soul he ever had the pleasure to know. To love.

The kindest soul who loved him in return, by miracle or cruel fate.

Tav…

Tav, who slept curled into his side, undisturbed by the lights he had conjured to write his letter. His forced goodbye.

Tav, with a finally relaxed face now as they rested.

Tav who faced the curse around them so bravely, Tav, who had cried into his chest on too many days when the darkness and the shadows had been too close to their soul. And he had held them close and had conjured colorful lights to distract. To light up the world. To bring joy back.

The same lights that danced over the two of them now.

The lights that kept the nightmares and the shadows away. But they did not work, not for him at least.

He did not want to die. Not as long as Tav would need his dancing lights. Not as long as Tav looked at him like Mystra never did. Grateful. Loving. Human. In awe.

Not as long as Tav whispered I love you into his ear before they went to sleep by his side.

Not as long as Gale wanted to live, with Tav, for Tav.

But what choice would he have, what option could be there that Mystra hadn’t found to destroy this threat? It was the only way. It had to be – would she be otherwise so cruel?

His life for the world.

A good bargain – for the world.

But not for him. He would loose. He would loose everything again.

And it was not fair.

Nothing was.

Why would he have to sacrifice his soul to deal with Mystra’s command. Why him? Why her discarded, tossed out lover. Her outcast.

Her ex-lover!

He owed her nothing anymore. Not a favour and especially not his blind compliance. No, if, when, he would do it, he would do it out of love, not for her but for Tav. He would do it for the world so that Tav and the others whose company and friendship and spells and blades he had found and grown to adore may live. That they could be free of the tadpoles. Free from its influence.

He would do it for those who were also infected but not protected, he would do it for the sake of the world.

I am in love with you, too!

There it was, Tav’s confession. Their words, their love always echoing in his mind when he thought about Mystra’s expectations. He heard Tav’s confession over and over again and he wanted to live. To heal.

He wanted to do anything but to blow himself up.

I refuse to believe that this is the end! There has to be another way, we will find another way. Like we always have! You don’t have to die! I won’t allow it!

Tav, whose voice had quivered and their eyes had been so earnest and true and Gale had wanted to loose himself in them. In their affection for him. In their faith. In their love.

If only he could have the faith that Tav had.

If only their faith could move indeed mountains, if only it would be enough.

He had wanted it to be enough.

But they had not found another way. They had just gotten closer and closer to Ketheric as the endless, lightless days had passed and Gale had begun to gather the words to say his goodbyes. Or better to write his goodbyes.

And now were there all gone. Nothing was good enough. Nothing was the truth.

The simple truth that made everything so difficult. And was yet so important!

I do not want to write to you. Because I want to talk to you. Talk and live and learn like lovers do. Like companions in life do.

I do not want to say goodbye with ink on paper and a fearful heart…

I want to say hello to you each morning and to explore the world with you.

I WANT TO LIVE!

Tomorrow they would face Ketheric, tomorrow it would all be over.

And he wanted to scream.

I do not want to die! I want to live – with you. Please, save me, my love, save me again from the stone!

And tomorrow came. And they assaulted Moonrise. And Ketheric fled into the abyss under the towers.

And they had no choice but to follow him down into the pit of darkness and rotten flesh.

But before Tav could make the jump pulled Gale them aside.

And he kissed them. Like he had never done before. Like it was the very last time. Because it was. Because he would have no tomorrow. No matter how much he wished he had.

And he held Tav’s face in his hands and savoured the feeling of their lips on his.

Their scent, their taste all around him, he wanted to remember it, to taste them on his tongue until the very end that awaited them in the rotting darkness.

The kiss was hard and desperate and still, Tav smiled at him when they had to let go of each other eventually.

“It is going to be alright”, they gently reassured him, “I will protect you, my love! I promise. We will kill Ketheric and we will find a cure, you’ll see! It all will be over soon!”

And Gale prayed for a miracle. Just one. Prayed to no one in particular. Understood suddenly Ketheric’s willingness to turn away from the gods that had abandoned him in his time of need to serve anyone who was willing to listen. Anyone willing to help. Anyone willing to grant just this one miracle.

And the miracle came, it came in the form of love. It came in the unwavering truth of lovers, in three simple words –

I choose you!

[jacquelinemerritt]

Queer Media Review: Her Story (2016)

Originally posted September 1st, 2016

Honest, earnest, and representative, even to a fault.

This review is the first in a weekly series of pieces on queer and trans media. See them all here!

The importance of Her Story as a piece of queer representative media cannot be understated. In a time where the majority of films about trans women are cast and crewed by cisgender men and women, that Her Story was co-written and co-produced by Jen Richards and Laura Zak, a trans woman and cis queer woman, respectively, makes it unique, and lends the entire production a sense of honesty and earnestness that defines the series. Unfortunately, that earnestness is what leads to the biggest flaws of the series, near the end, though they are far from great enough to bring down the overall quality of this Emmy Nominated series.

Her Story begins by setting up its primary framing device: Allie (Laura Zak) is a journalist writing for a queer magazine called “Gay LA,” and she decides that she wants to write a story on the dating lives of trans women with Violet (Jen Richards) as her primary interview subject. They interview over coffee, and Violet establishes the “rules” (in the screenwriting sense) about trans women that will hold throughout the series (and reflect their existence in the actual world). It’s all done very playfully, however, and the scene serves to set up a burgeoning relationship between these two women, with Allie coyly flirting with Violet the entire time.

These two women clearly have romantic chemistry with one another, but it’s established around the same time that Violet is already in a committed relationship with Mark (Josh Wingate), with the primary conflict being both that Mark doesn’t want Violet seeing this woman and Violet being unsure of her own sexuality, having exclusively dated men since transitioning to life as woman.

While this relationship is the main focus of the series, a number of subplots are set up in the background as well. Paige (Angelica Ross), a civil rights attorney and Violet’s friend, is attempting to navigate a new relationship with James (Christian Ochoa) a (presumed) cis man who is unaware that Paige is trans, while Lisa (Caroline Whitney Smith) is attempting to discourage her friend Allie from dating Violet, arguing that it is impossible to be a lesbian and date someone who is a “former man,” misgendering Violet and using transphobic language against her. These two subplots coalesce wonderfully in a way I won’t spoil. Both of these subplots are given satisfactory endings which leave both Allie and Lisa with the opportunity for significant character growth if this series continues.

While the side stories are resolved well, the main story of Violet and Allie’s relationship is concluded rather clumsily, with Violet giving a speech on her character’s entire history in the fifth episode which feels like an attempt to make Violet representative of as many trans women as possible, rather than to build complexity into her character.

What’s more, Allie being present with Violet to receive the revelation is spurred on by a poorly designed coincidence that would seem to serve to alienate Violet further from one of her few friends, the lesbian punk rock artist Bad Penny (Elizabeth Frances). This is glossed over in favor of giving Allie an opportunity to learn Violet’s darkest secrets early on. It’s a weak bit of storytelling that both lessens the impact of Violet’s eventual coupling with Allie and sidelines the reality of Violet’s experiences in favor of pushing her into the story’s resolution (the latter of which I find particularly frustrating).

Nevertheless, these flaws aren’t enough to lessen the value of Her Story. Even with a weak resolution to the main story, the development of Allie and Violet’s relationship is honest, and watching Paige attempt to navigate the complex issue of whether or not to disclose that she’s trans to her love interest is incredibly compelling. That issue in particular is one that has been absent in almost all trans media created so far, despite being a very regular part of the trans experience dating. Seeing that conflict depicted on screen is both affirming and empowering, as is the complexity of Violet’s confusion over her own sexuality.

I would highly recommend Her Story as an honest depiction of navigating romance as a trans woman. It’s well-constructed, well-shot, and well-acted, and its flaws come nowhere near outweighing its strengths.

Rating: 4/5

Her Story can be viewed on the series’ official site, HerStoryShow.com.

Critical Eye Criticism is the work of Jacqueline Merritt, a trans woman, filmmaker, and critic. You can support her continued film criticism addiction on Patreon.

[jesuis-assez]

↠ Tim & Lucy ↳ 2x10 - The Dark Side

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 13 thoughts

so i read the description of this episode and i was thinking to myself, yeah, this one seems believable. i keep loosely acquainted with the drama of the funeral world, and after learning of the harvard morgue scandal of last summer, i was like. well. the truth echoes art, i guess.

but that was the POINT of the episode- that the real world is scary, even without vampires and bigfoot!

so we begin with a funeral for a poor little girl. and it is an open casket, which is upsetting, and these little kids that i assume were her classmates are looking in. and then to make it even MORE upsetting, this creepy man working the event shows up and starts... touching her hair...

boy, i hope that child actress got a fat check for that very uncomfy bit part.

next we see a man eating an ice pop in the embalming room, to which i say: king. and he's hearing some weird stuff, and who emerges but... donnie!

(donnie's the guy who was stroking her hair... and he's holding scissors... and the girl's hair is scattered all over the floor...)

donnie briefly morphed into a demon, and ice pop man banishes donnie from his realm upon realizing he cut the little girl's hair. he says "i should report you" but i don't think he actually did.

(PRO TIP: if you are in a workplace where this type of event happens, please do file a report)

anyway. agent time. they're arriving in a graveyard. and i saw a gif this morning of mulder lifting the caution tape up so scully can get her umbrella in!!! it is suuuuch a cute moment. and a tiny consolation for the agony the rest of this episode produced.

the policeman is blabbering on about aliens and says to mulder, "you know andy" and he says "no i don't" "well, he knows you" which is sooooo funny. another example of mulder being famous amongst the nerd population.

poor scully looks absolutely horrified at this little girl's desecrated body...

and while the policeman thinks it's aliens, which may be a first, mulder does not, which again may be a first, because he says he's seen cases like this before

"you okay, scully?" he asks, noticing that she is Not Okay, but seeming unsure of how to approach the situation. she insists that she is, and perhaps he accepts this at face value.

they share an umbrella <3 but whilst doing this she's deeply shaken, and says she's surprised he isn't bothered. he says he prepared himself, and i thought he was going to elaborate on what preparing yourself for a case like this looks like, but he didn't

and she's shocked that they drove all the way here for a case that isn't aliens... why did we come here then?

because he got them tickets to a football game. LMAOOOOO this man........... football date night. it does not sound pleasurable to me but maybe watching his nerdy face light up would make up for the misery. i was giggling here. he wanted to take her out and show her his culture.

okay so now we're back to donnie. he's applying for a new job. he says he used to be a cosmetologist.

NOOOOO they had to miss their game because there are more bodies dug up and violated... and since this took place in the 90's they didn't even have facebook marketplace to try and sell their tickets beforehand... this is truly a devastating loss </3

and did they show a football player with the same name as the dude who runs this show... you can't sneak that stuff by me...

scully has to walk out after seeing the pictures of the crime scene and i'm already so deeply sad for her but oh boy, past me, wait a bit and see where all this goes!

mulder says that the police need to put an alert out NOW and the policeman is all "well we don't have a whole lot of guys on the squad so it might take awhile :(" THEN HURRY??? mulder says he thinks this dude is gonna kill someone and you're gonna complain about lack of resources???? WORK OVERTIME???

poor scully is sososo shaken and mulder pops his head out to where she was sitting... he says he'll cancel their plane tickets so they can stay longer and she's just staring out into the distance... SOMEONE HELP MY QUEEN PLEASE

then we get a glasses and takeout moment as the agents come up with a profile for a guy who steals body parts from dead people

donnie sees a woman on the side of the road- a working woman, if you will- and he takes her back to his place. and this woman is sooo pretty. but he's running her a bath and marty i'm scared.

(wait i just realized i can straight up insert the reaction images i'm referring to on here)

HE IS OBSESSED WITH HAIR... first the little girl's, and now he asks this woman if she needs shampoo for chemically treated hair...

he goes to take a phone call- congrats, you got the job- and she sees his room is FILLED with wreaths from funerals. and she might be naked but i was still yelling at the screen GIRL YOU NEED TO RUN!!!!!!

well. we cut to body time. so we know how that went. it is a spectacularly bloody body. and our freak has escalated from desecrating graves to killing real people.

mulder wants to go look at the body and asks scully to come but she can't bring herself to do it. WHY IS NO ONE NOTICING THE STRESS SHE IS IN. HOW CAN WE TAKE STEPS TO AID HER.

(i think that mulder is trying his best to Not Make A Big Deal out of her visible distress to make her feel better, and instead just gives her space and respects her lack of desire to discuss the whole thing. because there is no way he doesn't actually notice)

now donnie is on the job as a grocery deliveryman. which i am familiar with as i do use doordash occasionally. but the woman whose house he's delivering too just. LETS HIM IN??? to pack up the groceries. is this how the job worked at the time... can anyone confirm or deny... because i'm trying to imagine welcoming the doordash or instacart guy coming in and putting the food away for me... and i feel my skin crawl... what a textbook murder situation...

and if that isn't bad enough, the woman tells donnie they have 3 daughters and leave the backdoor open........ this does not bode well for the plot....

he asks to go to their bathroom and he digs through their trash to find a clump of hair and he SNIFFS it and then pockets it... we need someone to deal with this man with a QUICKNESS.

scully is in autopsy mode now, and unlike her usual very professional self, she looks like she is going to pass out conducting this one. which is remarkable because she has seen some nasty stuff, but this is what puts her over the edge.

in her report, she's writing about how every autopsy tells the story of a life, and that being killed for someone to take a piece of your body is perhaps the most dehumanizing death imaginable

someone who saw this freak donnie says that he looked like an ordinary guy, so this is gonna be a tough search. so mulder is going into deep psychoanalysis mode, saying it must be driven by a very intense hatred of women. which seems fair. i'll trust the oxford trained fellow.

now donnie is in class and he sees a woman and we know what's coming, but when he approaches her and tries to get creepy, she kicks him away and manages to run!!!! thank god honestly we could use a victory.

the phone wakes up scully from a nightmare where she sees the same demon we saw earlier and also SHE was the one on the autopsy table- but mulder says they have a suspect at the station. and i'm like, yes! they're gonna get him!

but it isn't him that they get! they brought someone else in, and we SEE donnie watching their interview moment and this was the narrative taunting me

mulder can no longer try and ignore scully being so on edge, and he says "scully, if you're having trouble with this case, i want you to tell me" and my first reaction was, king, do you have eyes, she has been about to collapse this whole time. but now i see he is doing the best he can to put the ball in her court, and yet she STILL denies it. lies straight to his face.

"i'm not having trouble", she says <- okay so we all see that this isn't true but i respect that he's trying to be mindful of her boundaries. however i would have been like hey queen let's get you out of here <3

"i just don't want you to think you have to hide anything from me", he says, and i kiss each of my fingers like i just savored a delicious meal, because that is EXACTLY what i wanted this man to say. mmm angst. just what i had ordered.

so donnie is asking the guy who DID get questioned what they were talking to him about, and what their names were, and he remembers scully's name because she has the same name as a baseball announcer i guess? and then they let the donnie go -_-

she goes back to DC to get a fingerprint read on the body but says something about maybe not flying back to the case that night... she did NOT want to be there!!!!!

at this point we learn that the FBI has an on sight therapist, which honestly makes perfect sense... but man. this scene.

she's referring to herself in the second person, talking about how you have to become used to seeing death in med school and in fbi, and she's distancing herself to try and cope. and the therapist brings up losing her father and her coma, and asks if she feels uncomfortable with her partner, and she's like no, i trust him with my life.

wow. that's incredible. but!

"i don't want him to feel like he has to protect me"

and i cannot imagine a world in which mulder, the protector, would ever NOT try and guard those he loves like some sort of snarling beast. but she must still feel horrible after just coming out of a coma, and he had been so scared to welcome her back, let her come on the missions, she had to PROVE herself, and she can't make herself feel guilty knowing he'll see her as something to protect.

(as if there was ever going to be another way)

so yeah i was basically barking at the screen here.

she says she's lost faith, and she needs it back. and where do you get faith these days?

but, while she was away, they found a print. she calls mulder to tell him this and decides that she'll fly back that night.

"anyway, you could use my help" "always" <- what if i started crying.

but someone called for her while she was away... and i knew it was that donnie freak........... foreshadowing....

so the agents trace the prints to donnie and bust into his house, where they find his endless funeral wreaths and even a FINGER in the fridge, but no donnie

and this is just as scully is arriving from the airport AND DONNIE IS STALKING HER. and i wrote, donnie, i will get u with my bare hands.

and he HITS HER CAR and DRIVES HER OFF OF THE ROAD and then mulder comes to the scene and they find her car but no SCULLY

back at donnie's place, he is running a bath and my screen was dark enough to see my face in the reflection and it could best be described as looking like that dizzy emoji. "oh girl i am UNCOMFY", i wrote, but in a sort of horror way that you expect from the genre.

she's tied up in his closet and sees him as a DEMON again which is more evidence that she has had to endure SO MUCH and i'm getting duane berry flashbacks with the gag in her mouth and i'm feeling a profound level of defensiveness for a person who does not exist

mulder is stressed, there are no witnesses, and he's pissed, he says "there are people that can videotape police beatings on darkened streets, they manage to spot elvis in 3 cities across america every day, but no one saw a pretty woman being forced off the road in her rental car"

AUGHHHH his bloodhound nature, need to find answers, is kicking in again.

(and also he thinks she's pretty)

so back at donnie's place, he is approaching rapidly with a knife, and mulder is sleuthing. the car they found was donnie's mother's car, so maybe they're at donnie's mother's place... but he is PICKING UP THE KNIFE AS MULDER SPEAKS

he ASKS ABOUT HER HAIR to properly shampoo it which is SO FREAKY but she manages to BREAK AWAY by shoving him into the tub. yes yes those FBI agent skills are kicking in!!!

shes hiding and he yells "there's no way out, girly girl" which briefly took me out of the scene because i just know that he would have said "girly pop" if the writers had their hands on that phrase and it was distracting but still. STILL.

she's hiding in the closet and he opens the door and she SPRAYS HIM WITH ROACH SPRAY and runs and they're tussling about when...

MULDER BREAKS DOWN THE DOOR and sees her!!!! he's calling for paramedics while the policemen take care of donnie

and the first thing she says to him is "i'm okay", reassuring him despite her awful situation, perhaps referring to her mostly uninjured body, but she's shaking like a leaf, and she just keeps saying that she's fine, she's fine, until he lifts her chin up to look at her face...

and she starts SOBBING into his chest. he's got his fingers in her hair and he's mumbling "it's okay" to her again and again and. i could feel my heart melting. i was a mere puddle of a human being at this moment. it's okay. it's okay.

there is something i think you will understand that is so rich about seeing characters hit their breaking point. it tells the audience so much about them- here we see that scully's biggest fear is the evil that lies in the ordinary, in the idea that anyone could be a monster, that this is a world of constant fear, and how do you try and rationalize the things that humanity is capable of doing? how do you walk down the street knowing that someone, anyone that passes you by could be a devil, metaphorically speaking? and she doesn't have the luxury of believing that it could be some outside force- some aliens, or evil vampires- manipulating people into doing their bidding, like mulder does. she knows that it is flesh and blood people that she sees everyday at the grocery store or next door or even those she autopsies, that do horrific things. and that there is a capacity for that in anyone, and no way to keep yourself or those you love entirely safe. what is there in this cold world of facts if there isn't faith? and again, where do you get more faith when you run out?

(and, of course, her deep and terrible fear of needing protection. needing to rely on someone that isn't just herself. of inadequacy. how scary that must be for a person who sees the terror in the rest of the world)

so yeah. love to see a character break. and i love it even MORE when we get to see someone they love comfort them. hurt/comfort trope remains undefeated.

the episode ends with mulder writing the case report and talking of very similar things as i just rambled on about- about humans being demons, and demons being what humanity comes up with to explain that- but this is delivered over a slideshow of donnie's childhood pictures to emphasize how he was just the boy next door, except that honestly he looked like young sheldon. so i was a bit taken out of the whole thing.

so yeah. this episode did not leave me with the warmest and fuzziest of feelings, but in terms of horror it was definitely one of the scariest so far, again because the entire lack of supernatural causes. i mean you could choose to interpret that this guy genuinely WAS a demon, but i think that defeats the purpose of the episode and scully's character study we get as a result. i was spooked, but we still had some good moments, such as attempted football date.

overall, i thought this episode was great. and we could talk about how the creepy killer was super queer coded, and discuss if this was done in bad faith, which could be an interesting conversation- but i find it not entirely relevant to the overarching theme. like, the scary part was that he wanted to keep your fingers, not that he called scully "girly girl", and i didn't get the sense that those two things were being equated in the episode.

now give me 10 beach episodes, or perhaps a journey to a museum, or a spa, or the mountains, or an ice-skating trip with matching scarves worn by our agents, or a day at the mall. really i don't ask for a lot!

[anaalnathrakhs]

i feel it's so fucking stupid and ungrateful but it still hurts a little when someone gifts me something i just don't like. i don't know. i know it's dumb and inaccurate to astrain that much meaning to a simple gift, but it feels kinda like they don't know me. i guess it feels like people don't see me, like a reminder that the person i reflect and the person i feel like are incredibly different.