#ezra miller. why did you have to do the things you did? i would have been HAPPY to support this movie otherwise

[oveliagirlhaditright]

-sighs- Why is the The Flash movie trailer so good? -cries-

[happypedrohours]

Good morning, fellow Happy Pedro Hours partakers! We hope you had a great night and we're looking forward to the next one aka tonight, June 22nd!

The first pit stop after a night of fun with friends is definitely some hot drink to wake up and face the day, so we asked some of our writer friends what they think Pedro Boys would drink and they came up with some brilliant ideas that you will find under the cut.

Jack has neat black coffee because he doesn't see why you should add anything else. Except whiskey, of course.

Shane doesn't like coffee but he's been known to sneak a white mocha frappucino when nobody is watching.

Javi G, being very European, would do a cappucino in the morning but if he wakes up later in the day, he'd switch to an espresso with a bit of sugar in it.

Or Javi G would drink a cortado.

Pietro Alvarez will do a double espresso with almost an equal ratio of sugar.

Maxwell Lord skips the coffee because he's already way too wound up on a regular day, so maybe he'd go for a decaf or just some tea.

Marcus Moreno doesn't drink too much coffee in a day because it doesn't always agree with his stomach. He'll have a plain cup in the morning at time, but if he stops at a coffee house, he'll try a cappucino because Missy always raves about it.

Tim will drink black at the police station because the coffee isn't any good so leyt's not even consider that powdery creamer, but if he orders at a coffee shop, he'll sometimes go for some cream in it.

Joel Miller (pre-outbreak) drinks Folgers because it was on sale. He adds his cream and 2-4 spoons of sugar (depending of it he had to bail Tommy out of jail or back him up in a fight or threaten to fight a kid because they gave Sarah a weird look). Joel is that dad, we love him for it.

Joel Miller (post-oubreak) drinks any coffee he can find, even beans are welcome. He stays awake and doesn't have to deal with his nightmares.

Or Joel would drink weak American coffee in like a tub

Din might drink caf if Grogu has kept him up when he was trying to sleep while the ship was in hyperdrive, otherwise he sticks to water. Very practical.

Dave York is a man who "closes deals" so to speak. He has some fancy Italian blend that he tells his secretary to get him and he hides it from Carol and the kids because he wants to be the only one who has it. Also too expensive to share.

Or Dave York is a coffee snob, interested in different roasts and beans.

Ezra is happy to have anything that will keep him awake so he can keep an eye on his pod. Taste doesn't matter. If he's ever able to relax, he might like some caramel. It's not too fancy but not too basiceither.

Frankie drinks Lifer juice (black coffee). Dark roast, though, he needs to be wide awake. Benny was making taco jokes all night and he dozed on the couch and has a crick in his neck. We're taking volunteer applications to give him a massage.

Strong coffee for Frankie, I can actually see him going for like a triple or quadrupple espresso when given the chance.

Or Frankie takes his coffee just black and strong.

Oberyn would go for some tea or herbal infusion instead.

Dieter drinks any and every sweet thing you can put in six shots of expresso to keep him awake and with a grin for this next scene with the actor he left with one of his monogrammed butt plugs up their ass and did not call the next day.

Or Dieter drinks "extra everything, cream, sugar, any of those coffee syrups if you have them."

Lucien has Cuban coffee with his cigarette in the morning and the afternoon.

Javier Pena drinks it black with a spoon of sugar or two because the Senora says he needs some sweet. He's a sucker for pleasing ladies, old and young.

Or Javi P obviously drinks Colombian coffee.

Thanks to @avastrasposts, @nerdieforpedro, @lady-bess, @for-a-longlongtime for their thoughts!

Do you have other coffee order headcanons for Pedro Boys? If so, we'd love to hear them! Drop us a comment to share them!

[pedgito]

Hiiiii, can i ask for one of Ezra with smut plsssss? i really loved the pre-outbreak!joel miller <3 thankssss

pairing | ezra (prospect) x fem!reader

content warning | 18+ content, dubcon (it's a sex pollen fic, so just to be safe) but it's fairly consensual aside from that, but read at your own risk! this is set pre-movie time, so the plot is pretty loose, mutual masturbation, unprotected sex [6.5k]

author’s note | smut starts about 3k words in if you just want the naughty bits! i wanted to try something new for the recent milestone i hit as a treat but if this flops don't look at me, i've never written this trope before forgive me

↝ other fics | requests? | ao3

The sky is a sickening yellow that burns in the daylight here, hand crowding over your face to block out the glaring sun as it beats down, sweating through the thick padding of the suit that acts as your lifeline. You hate these trips, the ones that are purely for scouting and not for the attempt at digging and coming away with at least something of value to keep for yourself. It seems pointless and reckless, always poised for an attack by rival prospectors threatening to lay claim to an area you haven’t learned much about. 

Luckily, this moon was untouched. Nothing like the ravenous Green you were used to. It’s both a relief and a danger. There was something off about this place, the air, the ground, the foliage that surrounded, and the lack of active life. Not an animal, parasite, nor any other species, human or something similar to be found. It’s barren and eerie but full of energy, the plants surrounding breathing in the air as if they are the living beings of this place.

You’ve only ever heard about these places in stories; the moons that no one dared to visit in fear that they might never leave, that the ground would swallow them whole and feast on their bodies. No one that landed ever left, always mysteriously disappearing off the face of the universe. 

Yet somehow, you still ended up here. Alone, completely alone. 

“What a sight this is,” A voice speaks from a distant, head whipping around all sides to find the source, the bulbous helmet obstructing your view, “do my eyes deceive me?”

You left your gun on this ship–first mistake. But, you had the small knife tucked away in your pocket handy and ready for use if needed, fingers lingering around the pouch until your eyes laid claim to the person the voice belonged to. Helmetless, too.

“You stay–you stay back,” You warn, voice shaken, “why are you–how are you breathing this air?”

Almost for show, he takes a deep breath.

“Amazing, is it not?” He asks, shifting some of the tall foliage out of the way as he walked closer, following the make-shift trail along the dirt that threaded through the tall plants, encasing you in a small fortress. “I only found out a couple days ago. It is–quite amazing, you agree?”

“Why are you here?” You avoid his weird approach at an introduction, examining his features to assure he was human–it seemed that way, a small scar settled under his left eye that brought you more questions alongside the small patch of white hair hovering above his forehead. His accent was even stranger, from some far off area you’ve never heard of, the dialect all it’s own.

“I could be asking you the same thing, little bird.” He tilts his head curiously, tapping on the thick glass of your helmet as he approaches closer, “This is…high end. Interesting. What is someone like you doing out here, all alone?”

“My job. I'm here to prospect and harvest.” 

It's what everyone’s job was now–digging for gems and valuables to make a profit, making a living, keep themselves alive. Wash, rinse, repeat. You did well, always came back with a plentiful bounty. But, something told you this time was different.

“So, you're a floater. Where do you reside?” He asks curiously. "If you even have a home."

“Doesn’t matter.” You ignore him, “Are you going to kill me?”

You can see the gun attached to his hip and loaded, just a small flinch and he could have you dead in a millisecond.

“Now, come on–give me some of the benefit.” He pleads, but takes a second too long to continue, his face quickly morphing into amusement, “Unfortunately, you’re right, birdie. I’m required to shoot on sight, protect the product, and wait for the arrival of my crew. Now, why am I telling you this?”

“You want me to leave.”

His smile grows wider, his body tilting into the movement as he dips into his next step, snapping his fingers in a ‘aha!’ fashion, proving that you were correct. 

“Smart, I appreciate that,” He compliments, his face quickly washed of emotion when he sees you unmoving, the small knife now poised between your fingertips, lowered close to your waist, “heaven waits girl, flee or die.”

“You don’t scare me,” You assure him, flipping the knife in a defensive stance as he invades your space further, watching you, examining. Like a meal, “what are you protecting here?”

“Hmm, brave…” He ripostes, “What do you think?”

It feels like he’s fishing–for information or clues and it dawns on you, the small amount of hesitation he has for not killing you outright, almost like he’s afraid.

“I think you have no idea what this place holds,” You challenge him, “how did you find out this air was breathable exactly? Did you trip? Were you attacked? Or were you just that stupid enough to take your gear off on a hunch?”

The silence is long and telling, his demeanor changing on a dime again, eyebrows furrowing slightly in annoyance and…anger?

“Oh shit,” You huff out a laugh, “were you–you were abandoned weren’t you? Betrayed by your own men? Your filters junked and took your fuckin’ chances like a dunce, but man, people like you are hard to kill, aren’t they?”

“You don’t know what you’re walkin’ into,” He warns, “you wanna take them chances alone?”

Truth is, he didn't either. He hadn't stepped a few yards away form his camp until now, too terrified by what lingered come nightfall, the planet feeling like it might split under your feet.

You’ve met men like him before, scared little boys hiding behind their big man persona to fill their own egos, but when it came down to it, he was just as terrified in this world as you.

But, at least you could admit it.

“I came here alone,” You point out, “What do you think?”

He knows the answer but doesn’t respond and eventually, he retreats.

“Look, girl–there’s somethin’ out there and it’s...big, loud–whatever it is, it’s alive and if you’re not terrified to go near it, you’re insane. I hear it at night, it’s worse than anything you can imagine, even the stories your parents told you as a child. Something is hidin' here, waiting.”

You always knew that the real monsters were the people, like you, because they had motive and intent, which made them far more dangerous.

You grab onto the connectors of your suit suddenly, decompressing your helmet on a whim. The air is crisp and clean despite what you’re expecting–it doesn’t burn or constrict, rather it expands, breathing a new feeling into your lungs.

“Fear is a good thing,” You tell him, nicking his hand with the knife unexpectedly when he moves to close, a quick prick that catches him off guard as he pulls away, nursing his thumb between his lips as he sucks, “keeps us human, right?” 

Because whatever fear you had felt earlier toward the man had quickly dissipated and shifted onto him, his eyes a little darker as he watched you pocket the knife, letting your guard down when you realize just how helplessly harmless he was despite how he flared himself off in the beginning. 

“I’m not leaving here empty handed,” You take in the full frame of him, tall and lean but less intimidating now, “are you?”

It was a mistake, something you will soon realize. Most of the moon is covered in a deep foliage to thick to search through, but after what feels like a few hours of walking, some tense small talk where you find out that the man who so easily threatened your life was named Ezra.

In a show of good faith, you tell him your own.

He’ll be dead by the end of this either way, either by your hands or the blade of your knife after you use him to get what you need—he wouldn’t see it coming, not a chance.

And he’s older too, lingering somewhere near his early early 40s from the way he talks. He’s weathered and callous around the edges and he’s seen things, you can assess that much. 

He asks your age but it’s quickly snuffed out by a, “Doesn’t matter,” still, it’s obvious you’re younger and a little more naive in your brevity and willingness to risk your life on a whim.

You stumble upon the cave after the sun has set, the sky a hazy purple that creates a soft glow over your skin and you lead into the cave with little trepidation, amazed by the sight before you. 

“God, these are beautiful,” You spoke candidly, examine the tight cracks in the rock that were lined with an interconnecting of vines, an ecosystem growing inside this dark, dwelling cave and acting as a beacon of light as it thrummed alive, glowing bright before dimming gradually in a continuous manner, “you were scared of this?”

“Something lives here, comes out at night when the sky is black and makes the ground shake,” Ezra warns, careful to linger back toward the entrance, “we don’t have much time.”

“My—these are bioluminescent, right?” The flower glowing in your hand as you touch it, dragging a delicate finger along the spine of the stem, “I’ve only read about them, some of these carry healing properties. I should take a few, could make good profit from them.”

Your greediness tells you to harvest, keep some for yourself, but Ezra is on you in a flash, grabbing your wrist as the flower puffs to life, startling you as it expands.

“Get back!” He shouts, “Those aren’t—“

But, it’s too late. A puff of glowing powder filtrates the air and into your face, sucking in an involuntary breath as it nearly suffocates you, pushing you back onto your ass.

Ezra scrambles, wiping your face with a delicate touch despite his worried expression before he’s gripping your wrist and yanking you back toward the entrance.

“What the hell—what was that?” You ask raggedly, wiping your face of whatever substance had spewed itself at you.

“Only ones I’ve heard of are poison,” Ezra admits, “Paralyzing agents, slow killers, nothin’ good.”

You follow him blindly, a hand tugging on your suit as he drags you along, hearing the faint shake of the mulch underneath your feet and you both tense, a shared look of worry.

“Little bird,” Ezra tugs you hard, hoping his urgency is conveyed in his eyes as he locks onto you, “we’re not makin’ it back to your pod I’m afraid.”

The shaking grows stronger, paired with a low rumble that has you both stumbling to the ground, body jolting at the touch of his fingertips against your neck where he catches you, hands planted into his chest as you plant yourself above him.

“I know I’m not one to trust,” Ezra admits, “But, I’ve got a tent a few meters east, it might keep us safe ‘til daylight.”

You quickly shove his hand away, the touch burning your skin in an unpleasant way, a weird feeling coiling in your stomach.

“Might?” You seethe, eyes growing comically wide at his unsureness. 

“I told you comin’ this way was a bad idea, you chose not to listen,” Ezra ignores the distaste for his touch as you wretch his hand away, “it’s up to you—run back to your pod and hope you make it or we can saddle in at my camp.”

You’re logical enough to know there’s only one choice.

Self-preservation.

You let him guide you upright before immediately separating yourself, following his quick footsteps as he led you back toward his sanctuary.

The difference in you, Ezra notices, is night and day.

Your eyes are scanning around frantically as he reaches for the cover of the entrance, mindful of his touch as he guides you inside, realizing the severity of the things you had encountered in the cave.

He’s never seen it for himself, assuming most of it was a myth. Some of it is collected and concentrated into a small drug that’s used in the places that are higher-up, living more luxurious, the people overflowing with wealth that have nothing better to do than get high and fuck—it’s that simple, a sex drug.

But from the source, natural—there’s no telling the strength. Even him, though not in the direct pathway and mostly by touches transferred between you two, has him feeling a little perturbed, his skin feeling itchy underneath the suit, like he wants to crawl out of his body. 

The silence that settles inside the tent when you’re both seated, far apart and in the two separate bunks stationed on either side, the one full of his belongings shoved to the side as you sit, pulling at the collar of your suit desperately. It feels like you’re suffocating, drowning inside the suit while your skin breaks out in a sheen of sweat, eyes squeezed shut as you force out a shaky breath.

Ezra watched it all happen, pulling lazily at the fingers of his gloves before unzipping his own suit, kicking it to the side and leaving him in his normal undergarments; a fitted black sweater paired with some black slacks. 

You glance over briefly, confused by his calmness, confused by your sudden affinity to be out of this suit and near him, needing the feeling of something other than this thing pressed against your skin. He looks eerily normal like this, dressed in his day to day clothes. 

“I think I might know what’s ailing you, birdie.” Ezra admits, forearms resting on his knees where he’s bent them, feet planted on the ground in front of him, “can I ask how you’re feeling?”

“Fine,” You grumble, the poor lie slipping past your lips, “Just—need out of this suit.”

He nods, extending a hand that you quickly defer away, eyes growing wide, “No, don’t fucking touch me.”

“I won’t touch your skin,” Ezra assures you, “That’s what’s got you worried, right? Feels like you’re on fire?”

His description is perfect, somehow managing to convey what you’re feeling, desperately alone inside your mind with thoughts that shouldn’t be.

He shifts to move, walking with his knees until he’s by your side, hands held up in surrender until he’s close enough to you, undoing the bindings in your suit to let you free, letting them fall to the floor with a heavy klunk as you kick them away.

“What—what was it?” You know he knows. Or that he at least had some kind of notion, his eyes scanning you carefully. Despite the sudden coolness to your skin from the thin tank that you’re wearing, it feels like a heat is bubbling underneath the surface.

“I’ve only ever heard of these things elsewhere,” Ezra explains slowly, bouncing around the truth, “it’s a, uh—enhancement of sorts, a drug to most.”

“Ezra.” You grimace, pushing him toward the point. It’s the first time you use his name, acknowledge him, and it feels weird. He’s not used to hearing it, either.

“Sex pollen.” He drives it home, no more beating around the bush. “It’s why you feel like jumpin’ out of your skin, why you couldn’t stand my touch.”

“Fuck off,” You scoff out tiredly, a bitter laugh lingering in the back of your throat, “that stuff isn’t real.”

Ezra’s eyes narrow, pointedly on you as he examines your response to him coming near, extending his fingers out carefully, “Give me your wrist.”

You back away unknowingly, hiding your hand away and ignoring the insistent beating of your heart in your chest, the sound of your pulse in your ears, the slow churning in your gut now impossible to ignore.

“Don’t touch me,” You warn, “Is this how you approach strangers? Tell ‘em they’re high on a sex drug and hope they’ll believe you?”

He says your name softly, hand dropping to his side, seeming a little irritated himself, though less so than you. 

“I’m tellin’ you because whether you want to be or not, you’re stuck in this tent with me until sunrise.”

You scurry toward the corner of the bed, chest heaving through deep breaths, brow furrowing as you stare him down. 

“Keep to your side,” You tell him, “I don’t want you coming near me.”

Ezra backs away without argument—he may be something of a scoundrel, a murderer, but he never had any intention of hurting you. Not before, not now. He was good at playing it up, but he knew you saw through it.

“You’ve got about an hour,” Ezra tells you, “maybe less now, but eventually that fever is gonna affect your brain, just like any other sickness and you’ll be worse off than when you came here.”

“Are you some kind of doctor or something?” 

“You learn a thing or two in this line of work,” He pulls haphazardly at the suspenders held snug around his shoulders, letting them fall loose to his hips, “I’ve never encountered it like this until now.”

“And you—you don’t feel…off?” You ask carefully, a sudden urge to squeeze your thighs together and soothe the growing ache between your legs. 

“I didn’t inhale it like you, didn’t get as deep of a dose,” The contact with you initially was just enough to keep him on edge, the itch under his skin growing slowly, he felt it too—the need, “you sure you’re alright?”

It’s the first moment of vulnerability you have with him as you glance up through downturned eyes, hands gripping the thick, coarse material of your pants.

“It hurts,” You admit quietly, “like a—like an ache, almost. Are you sure it’s safe here?”

Ezra nods, “Believe it or not, I’m not interested in the business of killing you.”

Not anymore.

“Forgive me for not thinkin’ that’s true, considering you threatened my life the moment I stepped foot on this moon.”

Ezra shrugs, fiddling with his sleeve silently.

“You’re full of empty threats, aren’t you?” You patronize him, turning your back to him now, settling down on the bed in hopes to calm whatever feeling was spreading throughout your body. “Come near me and I’ll shove that knife into your chest, got it?”

“Sure,” He responds distantly, “sweet dreams, birdie.”

And he himself tries to settle in, allow himself a moment of rest, but just as he’s lingering on the edges of sleep he hears you rouse, letting out a small whimper of pain as you pull at your slacks in earnest, “God, it fucking hurts.”

Ezra rolls to his side, head propped up lazily in his hand as he speaks, “M’gonna be blunt with you—only thing that’s gonna help is sexual release.”

“Stop talking,” You groan, the sound of his voice a few feet away and at a much lower register, thick with exhaustion, “it’s not like I can just take care of it with you here.”

For Ezra, it’s more of an annoyance, the tingling underneath his skin, the filthy thoughts running through his mind despite himself—he’s not that type of person, never would be, but that sight of you, the curve of your body even in this light, it’s enough to keep the flame alive.

He can see you’re struggling, fighting away whatever you were feeling and denying it despite the horrible pain you were in. 

“Let me step out,” It’s not a solution to the problem, “I can give you the room.”

And really, you weren’t sure it would even help. There was a need for contact, even as you wrestle with the button of your slacks and press your hands flat against your stomach in an effort to ease the ache, it’s not as satisfying. 

It makes you feel rabid, wiping the thin layer of sweat from your cheeks as you take a chance to look at Ezra when you turn on your back—he seems relaxed, aside from the insistent fidgeting of his fingers against one another, clenching and unclenching his fist every so often.

“Be honest with me,” You plead, “you’ve seen this before?”

“Only heard things,” He admits, eyes dragging toward the flickering light placed between you on the central beam supporting the tent—he’s talking to you, but he seems distant, far away, “it’s meant as an aid for—you know—“

You feel the impending but coming.

“But, like this—I don’t know much.” Ezra breathes out a deep breath, adjusting the slowly growing tightness against the front of his pants. “Even a small dose like that can be hell.”

You sigh shakily, fingers drifting until they’re only a few centimeters under your waistband, noticing his subtle attempt to adjust himself.

“Are you—do you feel it?” You ask softly, hanging by a thread. “I didn’t think you inhaled it like me.”

Ezra clears his throat, trying to respect your boundaries by not openly grinding up into his own hand—he was a bad man some days, but he wasn’t a savage. 

“Just being near you,” He assumes, “it absorbs into your skin or something like that and by touchin’ you I got a smaller dose. You’re hurting somethin’ bad, aren’t you?”

You nod jerkily, earlier disgruntled emotions toward the man forgotten. He’s proven to not be as big of a threat as he posed and he’s almost friendly now, keeping his distance and trying not to scare you. It wasn’t like you couldn’t handle yourself, but you hated how easily your thoughts betrayed you. You wanted someone near, didn’t matter who—you both just had the misfortune of being stuck together in a situation like this, dancing around the obvious. 

“Maybe—“ You sigh softly, eyes roving his body for a moment, “if we just take care of it ourselves, just close our eyes and no one’s gotta leave?”

“I don’t think—“

You’re impatient, fed up, fingers dip until they meet your core, drenched in the sweet slick of yourself and painful to the touch, a moan blossoming in your chest involuntarily.

“Little bird, I am not so sure that—“

“Shut up,” You sigh heavily, rubbing insistently at your clit for relief, constricted by the stiff waistband of your pants as you flex your fingers to fit inside you, “just do it, get it over with so we can get some sleep and leave this place come—come morning.”

He knows you don’t mean what you’re implying; the off-chance you might take him with you after being abandoned, he’s not that lucky, he never was. 

You gasp when your fingers breach your center, pressing beyond your tight opening and Ezra can feel the noises rattling him to his core.

“If I wanted to be treated like a lady I wouldn’t be doing this—in front of you, right now.” Ezra actually laughs at that, a small chuckle the rumbles from his chest. “Don’t worry, I won’t look.”

It’s the coyness in your voice that does him in, his hips rutting up into his palm slowly before he’s breaking that seal, assuming a similar position and hastily shoving his hands down his trousers, grinding down on his teeth to muffle the sound that escapes him when he feels the first touch, feeling everything more intensely now that he had given in.

“Better?” You ask curiously, voice still tight and ragged, the ache that was once dull was throbbing at your core and up your spin, growing the more your fingers dragging along your slit and over the small bundle of nerves.

It wasn’t enough. Didn’t feel like enough. Part of you knew that one simple orgasm by your hand wouldn’t solve this, but you remained naive, breath quickening as you shoved your pants down further, hastily, kicking them off the rest of the way.

Ezra hums a lousy response from your right, the soft shift of fabric against fabric, his movements quickening as he finds a rhythm, hand tightening around his shaft at the awkward angle he was forcing himself into with his cock still stuffed inside his pants. 

Honesty would be good, right? Right now? 

You let out an exasperated growl as you scramble upright, head hanging back between your shoulders.

“This isn’t fucking working,” You admit, “It doesn’t even feel good it just hurts.”

And the emphasis on the word is prevalent as you chance a look over at Ezra, his hand stilled underneath his clothes but his eyes wide, a little comical as he takes in the sight of you now, bottom half bare and visible under this light, the smallest sliver of your stomach peeking through your top that had ridden up.

So much for keeping eyes closed.

“I—“ Ezra stops himself, face scrunching up with a dilemma, “what are you thinking?”

“I’m not,” It felt like your body was working on autopilot, shifting your body to face him, “I need—god, I need more. Do you think, maybe—“

“Yeah,” Ezra answers immediately, already matching your thought as you scramble the short distance toward him, his palm pressing gently against your chest, “holy—birdie, your heart is racing.”

You nod absently, shifting his hand down abruptly to cover you cunt, a needy whine escaping your throat at the touch. 

“I don’t have time to— talk this through,” It’s disjointed, voice airy as you speak to him, “help me, please?”

He’s never been more unprepared and unequipped for a situation in his life, falling privy to your motions as you grind against the heel of his palm, feeling his fingers explore cautiously. 

“Whatever you need,” He agrees, nodding insistently as he winds his free hand around your waist, guiding you over his lap in a movement that has one of his fingers pushing past your entrance, fist clenching into his shirt tight, “tell me—tell me.”

He sounds wrecked, beside himself, feeling guilty for the circumstance and regretting having taken the risk to talk to you, letting his ego get the best of him. He would’ve never been in this situation, never have met you.

And somehow, you still feel empty, eyes brimming with tears at the discomfort, the neediness you feel across your entire body, the desire to be taken over and consumed by him—there’s a brief moment where you lock eyes with him, almost like a transfer of energy as he feels your pain.

The contact somehow managed to make things worse for him, or more equal on your level as his opposite hand grips tight on your hip, fingers working dutifully to keep you full as his head hangs, working with the little friction he received from his cock being trapped underneath the tight fabric as he followed your movements, pushing in when you pulled away, a messy dance of limbs as you clawed at each other.

“More,” You cry softly, “give me more.”

“Little bird,” He says as a warn, though his voice is nothing but comfort, “you don’t have a clue what you’re asking of me.”

You nod frantically, “I do, I do.” 

His eyes pull to your lips, mouth hung slightly open as you gasp, feeling like you’ve been running for miles without doing any of the actual work, a type of primal desperation you’ve never felt before. 

“We don’t have to—“ You squeeze your eyes shut, voice strained, “maybe if we just—“

Ezra understands without you asking, shifting his pants down hastily with you over him, briefs follow with before he’s just as bare from the waist down, kicking his clothes away mindlessly as you settle down against him without warning, the suffocating heat of your core drawing his attention back to you.

“You’re burnin’ up,” He notices, hands settling gently against your waist as he feels the hesitant tilt of your hips on the first drag, a deep sigh combining between you both, “does that—does that help?”

“Shh, shh,” You hush him kindly, hoping that focusing on the sensation and rather his voice—which was driving you equally as mad by how wrecked he sounded—would help, but it soon dawns on you that there’s only one way to satiate the ache, pushing at his chest until he understands, a slow fumble back onto his elbows as you grind against him more insistently, the excessive wetness of your core soaking him at the base, his grip against your hips tightening with every passing second as a groan creeps from his throat, paired with your own shaky sigh, “I can’t—can’t focus.”

Ezra feels partly to blame, too lost in his own head to realize the severity of the stage you’re in—most coherent thinking nearly gone and replaced with nothing but this, him, an eagerness to dull the painful ache in your body and by association, his own. 

The lewd thoughts intensify with every pass of your center along his shaft, the head of his cock rubbing against your clit in an almost satisfying way, but there’s an emptiness that’s keeping you stuck, dangling over the edge.

You need him inside of you—want, as does he. He’s been picturing it since he saw your fingers dip past your core, since the strength of the pollen invaded his body and filled his mind with involuntary thoughts.

“Ezra,” You sound broken, tears having slipped down your cheek through the haze, “I need you.”

Ezra nods understandingly, his hand creeping up to cradle the side of your neck, your head lolling lazily into the touch, “I told you, little bird. Just tell me. Tell me what you need.”

“Want you inside,” You admit on a pathetic whimper, fingers slowly clawing up his clothed chest, fisting in the fabric as you move more insistently, “Ezra, please?”

In any other situation he would think this through, considering the consequences and ask you for reassurance, but he finds himself nodding before he can catch himself, guiding your hips up gently with his hand before you’re taking control and guiding the head of his cock to your center, seething him completely and to the hilt in one full motion, punching a strangled groan from his chest.

Ezra falls back fully with the force of your grip, huffing roughly with every eager bounce of your hips, watching as your eyes roll back slightly, feeling a slow sense of relief with how easily he fits inside of you. 

If it weren’t for the thick layer of his sweater you would’ve broken skin by how hard your grip was on him, his own grasp teetering on painful but dulled by how badly you needed to cum, or feel any type of release for that matter.

There’s a soft repeated mumble of “please, please, please,” falling from your lips that doesn’t stop, not entirely sure what you’re asking for but Ezra soothes a comforting hand up your waist and over your shoulder as he watches you, slowly losing yourself to the sensation of being filled so fully.

“I’m right here,” He assures you, a faint echo in the back of your mind, “fuck—I’m right here.”

He soon feels suffocated by the thickness of his sweater, your body heat overwhelming him inside and out as he silently guides you up and quickly rids himself of the last bit of material he had left on his body, hastily helping you with your own when he sees your hand struggling to pull at the damp fabric.

But once he gets his eyes on you, taking in the rawness of you, all desperation and mindless need as your breasts bounce softly with your movements, squeezed tight between your arms from where they’re planted against his chest and all Ezra can think is touch.

He wants to touch you—and like you’re thinking on the same wavelength, bodies interconnected and driven by one thing, lust—so, you ask. Or more accurately, beg,

“Stop thinking,” You tell him, “touch me, it’s okay.”

Ezra feels pained by your response, your own voice riddled with the tears that kept falling, though the obvious lack of sadness behind them. He nods, lifting a hand to knead the soft flesh between his fingertips, your muscles clenching around him involuntarily and pulling a moan out of you that he mimics with the same fervor. 

“Sweet jesus,” He speaks candidly, “you feel—“ Ezra doesn’t even have the words, landing on something that flashes through his mind quickly, “perfect, fuckin’ perfect.”

And Ezra can feel the intensity build as your hips falter, the brazen sound of skin slapping against skin slowing to a slow grind as you squeeze your brow line together, panting slightly.

“I got you,” He reminds you softly, slumping into him tiredly as he lifts his frame, flipping you over swiftly but carefully, settling your legs around his hips with a gentle touch, barricading you in with the taut muscle of his forearms, his hips moving slowly inside you still, “just focus, you gotta let go, birdie—only way you’ll get any relief.” 

You nod instinctively, vision increasingly hazy as you pull him in closer, his mouth connecting with your shoulder in a wet press of his lips—not quite a kiss, but not subtle enough to be a touch and without even asking, he’s fixing a hand over your cunt alongside his cock from where he’s working you to a near point of something similar to an out of body experience, like you might finally lose your mind.

His touches are tender but pointed, his own moans increasingly debauched as he rubs your clit in messy circles, the wet squelch of you and him as you move together driving you closer to the edge, the intense tingling along your spine growing to the point of near unbearable, body shaking under his touch as he slips his other hand behind your neck, lifting your chin up as you gasp, clenching down hard as you came, body taking on a mind of its own.

The feeling is so intense you feel like passing out, spotting in your vision as you drift away for a moment, whimpering softly against his touch as the intense feelings you’ve been having dull for a moment, the torture of your body betraying yourself gone for now but still lingering dangerously close in the shadows.

“Fuck, fuck—” You hear his voice muffled over the ringing in your ears, staring blankly at the ceiling of the tent while your heart rate calms, your name falling from his lips like a warning as he feels that pull, low in his groin, shifting away hastily to work a quick, feverish hand over his shaft and spilling over your stomach in warm pulses, face slack with pleasure, eyes closed and drifting into a familiar feeling of exhaustion. 

“I think–I think it’s over,” You mumble softly, fingertips dragging gently against his thighs, a contrast to the earlier hard grip you had on him as he drove you toward your orgasm, “Are you okay?”

Ezra shakes his head in disbelief, leaning back on his legs.

“For the moment,” He thinks briefly before nodding, noticing the worry in your face, corners of your mouth downturned in frustration, “—are you?”

And you would be, but even now as the exhaustion creeped in, that gnawing sensation was still lingering, leaving you wondering if this would last forever until you ended up dying some miserable death on this moon.

Ezra moves around slowly, reaching for one of the bags stowed away on the spare bed you were using prior and finding some sloppily cut cloth, he notices your weariness, “Just something to…” He gestures toward the mess of him on your stomach still, something you hadn’t really noticed until he pointed it out, his gentle assurance a comfort to you, “was usin’ them to keep clean when workin’ on my pod but…no pod, no reason to keep hoarding them.”

He leans back between your legs, cleaning you up without a word, silent as he drags the soft cotton over your stomach with a tenderness that shouldn’t make you feel that way. You barely know him and you’ll blame it on the ridiculous sex pollen filtering through your bloodstream, but he looks more docile now, like you might scare him if you move the wrong way.

He’s just as terrified as you.

“Ezra,” You call out softly, grabbing his attention, “can I be honest with you?”

“I would appreciate it, yeah,” He responds with a faint smile, “seein’ as the situation we’re in.”

“I don’t,” You blow out a tired huff through your lips, hands pushing away the wet, sticky hair from your face, “—it’s still there. Is that–normal?”

“Uh,” Ezra pauses, thinking, “I mean, I’ve heard a few hours, sometimes even a day. But, it should fade now, since you were able to—”

He couldn’t bring himself to say the words with your eyes staring him down so intensely. 

You wouldn’t be able to sleep like this, the impending exhaustion come sunrise would make it nearly impossible to get home, thinking back to how easily you could’ve turned around and left and never put yourself in this situation. Choices, decisions, nothing good ever came from haste thinking.

“If–if it doesn’t?” You ask softly, suddenly feeling scared of the unknown.

“It will,” He responds calmly, nodding, “but how long…there’s no tellin’.”

An eerie silence settles between you two, aside the gentle hum coming from outside of the tent, a distant worry now–most places you were taught to be scared of the people you might come across, but here, inside this tent, you couldn’t feel more safe.

“Forgive me for being so forward but–it’s safe here, at least for a day or two. I’ve got the food, the water. We can wait things out until morning, little bird.”

You huff a soft laugh through your nose, moving your legs around him gently to one side as he adjust himself, draping the blanket shoved near the end of the bed over his lap and carefully covering your own.

“What would you have done if you never saw me?” You ask curiously, “Your people abandoned you, only a few days of supplies, do I want to know why you were stranded here?”

Ezra shakes his head simply, that answer being enough for you to gloss over the topic.

“So, is this the part where you ask to come with me?” Ezra’s shoulders shake in a silent laugh, hanging his head as he looks away, “What a fuckin’ day this has been.”

“You don’t have to drag me along,” He tells you, “doesn’t feel right askin’. But, since we’re stuck here for a bit, least until this shit wears off–”

He feels the sensation burrowing in the base of his spine too, the release of endorphins allowing you both a moment of calm before it ramped up again, undoubtedly. And there’s a sudden urge from you to touch him, stopping his palm over your stomach as his fingertips feel the material of the blanket.

“I can be convinced,” You tell him, eyes softening under his gaze, “It’s all I do for a living, bartering, trading–you’ve proven pretty useful, anyways.”

Ezra smiles at your indication, thumb rubbing along the back of your hand and reminding you that this wasn’t near over yet, his touch leaving a dull burn in its wake. 

“Keep the pain away and I’ll give you a free ride,” You promise him, “no tricks, I swear.”

“Another one?” Ezra says jokingly, finding the smile that breaks out on your face a clear indication that it wasn’t too much of an overstep, adding a little light to the situation, “I’m honored.”

And even if it did takes hours for the pollen to leave your system, a few tiring orgasms later shared between you both in a very heated, messy exchange of bodies rubbing against each other or his head buried between your legs, there’s a clear indication to never come back here, leave this behind you, and try not to be hung up on the man you met on this moon as he parts ways with you not soon after you arrive back home. But, there’s a reassurance in his words as he leaves you, leaning against the open door of your pod as you restock for your next journey.

“Can’t keep myself in one place too long,” He says regretfully, “but I know where to find you.”

“Don’t get yourself killed out there.”

Ezra laughs at that, full-body and amused.

“Not a chance, little bird.”

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[forthegothicheroine]

@gehayi said: can you please tell us more about Israel Rank?

POV: We are at a slumber party and I am kicking my feet and giggling and telling you about the boy I like.

"Oh my god, his name is Israel Rank, and he's from a book called Israel Rank: Autobiography of a Criminal, and he is so hot! The musical A Gentleman's Guide to Love and Murder, and the movie Kind Hearts and Coronets were both based on the book, but they made him other things besides Jewish, which is so bogus. Roger Ebert said it made the story more 'universal', which I guess means half-Italian is more universal than half-Jewish, which, what the fuck?

Anyway, he's the worst person in the world and I love him. He's like Heathcliff plus Steerpike plus Edmund the Bastard. He's the really distant relative of and earl, and his mother was disinherited for marrying a Jewish man. Israel isn't technically Jewish, he was baptized and raised Anglican, but he looks Jewish- and also really hot, and he says that combination upsets people! Kind of an Adrian Brody thing? I would have cast Ezra Miller before they turned out to be a shitshow of a person. And his name is Israel, kind of as a fuck you to mom's family. So he decides if people are going to give him shit about it anyway, he's going to embrace it.

He's in love with this girl Sibella, who won't marry him because he's both half-Jewish and poor, so starting as a hypothetical lark he wonders if he could just murder every single family member between him and an earldom. And then he does it! After sexual fantasies about Lucrezia Borgia encouraging him to! What an absolute freak.

So he starts killing, and his narration is so dry and funny about it. He tells the reader that in his experience, Jews aren't all that violent- he speculates that Shylock would have walked back the pound of flesh if he'd had time to calm down- but he has the blood of evil rapacious noblemen on his non-Jewish side which are to blame. He kills most of his family, except for the cousin-in-law whom he marries. He also still love Sibella. And his wife! He just can't stop fucking, he's so awful! (And I think he's bisexual. At least, I don't know how else I'm supposed to interpret the part where he's in school and "the boy I loved chose me as his Jonathan.")

And he gets away with it! He's super popular at his trial because he's so handsome and charming and the same society that scorned him, now that he's an earl, gossips that his Jewish ancestry must be very slight and distant. And there's a twist that gets him off the hook which is actually a real bummer of a plot point, even he's bummed out by it, but it's such a perfect capper to a life of cruelty.

Honestly, I do get why none of the adaptations keep the half-Jewish thing, they're probably afraid it would seem antisemitic, but in my opinion it's a real shame because it's so central to his character and I think I do want a sexy Jewish Byronic antihero. He's the worst. I love him. I would marry him. I would immediately divorce him. His favorite book is Emma!"

For a more academic discussion, I did a podcast episode on him way back when!

[kanerallels]

For @monthly-challenge day 14: "I love you", I'm finally updating the Steve Miller Au!! But this one can be read as a standalone as well

Full fic under the cut, but you can also read it on AO3 here!!

Taglist: @day-to-day-thots @auroramagpie @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @heckin-music-dork @opalknight @seleneisrising @cassie-fanfics (DM me if you want to me added or removed to the tag list!)

More and more in life, Kanan found his days full. Namely, full of missions and reports and maintenance and training and working. There were so many things to do, people to help, and between training Ezra, working with Hera and the rest of the crew, and still managing his network of spies, Kanan was busier than he would have liked.

Obviously he delegated, and he wasn’t busy constantly. But no matter how hard he worked, it seemed so rare that he had any real free time. Or in reality, he supposed, it was rare he had any real free time when Hera did, too.

That was why Kanan treasured the times they did have even more.

It was late, and the two of them were sitting up in the Ghost’s kitchen. Hera had just gotten back from a recon mission with her new squadron, and Kanan had stayed up to greet her.

“You look tired,” he told her as she dropped onto a supply crate with a sigh. Glancing up, Hera snorted.

“That’s charming,” she said dryly.

“It in no way detracts from your beauty,” Kanan assured her, and she laughed.

“You’re so full of it sometimes.”

Shooting her a wink, Kanan said, “You like me that way, and you know it. Can I make you something to eat? There are some leftovers I can heat up.”

“Yes, please,” she said. “Although I can take care of it—”

As she started to rise, Kanan gently pushed her back into a sitting position. “Uh-uh. We learned our lesson on that one when you nearly set the kitchen on fire last week. Besides, I don’t mind. You sit and tell me about your mission.”

Giving him a grateful smile, Hera leaned back with a sigh. “It was a pretty routine op. I’m still getting used to working with a larger team like this, but after working with you and the others for so long, it’s not too hard. And they seem to accept me as their leader.”

“Of course they do,” Kanan said, opening the Tupperware container he’d pulled out of the fridge. “Why wouldn’t they? You are the incredible Captain Hera Syndulla— and they’ve seen you risk your life time after time for this rebellion.”

“Hmm. You know, I’m still trying to decide if I should thank you for this recommendation.”

Switching on the stove, Kanan started scooping out the contents of the container— a meat and vegetable stir fry he’d made for dinner a few hours earlier. “It wasn’t me who got you the job, you know. I made the suggestion, but Sato’s the one who chose you. Past that, it’s entirely your own fault.”

Hera scoffed. “You’re the one who put it in motion. You realize this means I’ll be even busier now?”

Grimacing, Kanan said, “I didn’t really connect those dots until after I told Sato. But, unfortunately, I stand by it. You’re the best person for the job. We don’t have another pilot like you.”

“Thanks, love.”

“You’re welcome, Captain Hera.”

The two of them stayed in the kitchen together as Kanan heated up the leftovers and Hera talked about her new squadron, telling him about the ones that caused trouble and the others that were excited to have her. “I’ll have to introduce them to you and the others properly,” she said. “I think you’ll get along with them.”

“Anyone who likes you, I usually like,” Kanan said, grabbing a bowl from the cupboard.

He dished up the stirfry and passed the bowl to Hera, who accepted it with a laugh. “I think if we test that, it’ll be disproved pretty quickly,” she said.

“Probably,” Kanan said, pulling open a drawer. “Where in the name of the Force are all of our forks? I thought I told Ezra to put them away in here.”

“Jyn rearranged the drawers the other day,” Hera said. “She said the way we had things organized was driving her insane and she couldn’t live like this any longer. I assume she didn’t inherit this from you?”

Checking a few more drawers, Kanan said, “Not likely. Aha!” Grabbing a fork, he passed it to Hera. “Mission accomplished. Meet you in the lounge? I want to find something to snack on.”

“See you there,” Hera agreed, sticking the fork into her bowl before heading into the lounge. Kanan remained behind only for a minute. Digging through the cupboards, he located a half-empty bag of chips and headed out to join her.

They sat on the couch, side-by-side. Hera devouring her dinner, Kanan at her side, they settled into a comfortable silence for a little while. Kanan didn’t mind it, much though he loved Hera’s voice. Any time he was with her was time well spent.

Finally, Hera pushed aside her empty bowl and sat back with a sigh, letting her head drop against Kanan’s shoulder. He offered her the bag of chips, and she took a few. “Force, I’m glad to be home,” she mumbled.

“Must have been a long trip,” Kanan commented as she munched on her snack. “You tired?”

“A little,” Hera said. “But I can’t sleep just yet— I was wanting to run some maintenance checks on my A-wing before our next mission.”

“Ah, yes,” Kanan said, feeling a small grin cross his face. “Your A-wing. Did I see Sabine did a, uh, a little work on it? I like it.”

Hera elbowed him in the ribs. “Don’t you start.”

“What? I said that I like it!”

“We’re not discussing this.” Glancing down at her, Kanan saw Hera flushing slightly. “Besides,” she said, “it was Sabine’s idea.”

Chuckling, Kanan said, “I had a feeling. Doesn’t really seem like your thing.”

“No,” Hera said decisively. “But it’s Sabine’s art, so I’m not going to get rid of it.”

“Mm-hmm. Is that the only reaso— ow!” Kanan let out a yelp as Hera walloped him in the arm. “Okay, okay, dropping it.”

Resettling against him, Hera muttered, “You’d better.” Despite her words, a hint of humor colored her tone, and Kanan couldn’t hold back his grin.

He slipped an arm around her, pulling her a little closer. “You know, the A-wing can probably wait until tomorrow. You need some rest.”

Hera let out a sigh. “Don’t tempt me, dear. I should be setting a good example for the others.”

“Including a terrible sleep schedule?” Kanan said, and Hera snorted.

“It’s not that bad of a sleep schedule.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I respect your commitment.” 

As she sat up slowly, Hera raised an eyebrow at him. “You’d better not be teasing me again.”

“I’m not, I promise,” Kanan promised her. “You stick with your principles, you always have. And you follow through. It’s one of the many things I love about you.”

He only realized what he’d said when Hera went rigid next to him, shock flashing across her face. Pulling away from him a little, she stared at him. And then it hit Kanan.

He had just told Hera that he loved her for the first time.

“Ah,” he said, wincing. “That— I’m sorry. I mean, no, I’m not, but I didn’t mean to push you, and if you’re not ready for it— I just—”

Holding up a hand, Hera said, “Kanan. Stop.”

He stopped.

Hera took a deep breath, her skin darkening with a blush. “Force. This is— I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Kanan said quietly. “You don’t need to feel like you should—”

Shaking her head, Hera said, “No, not for that. I— okay, I need you to listen and not interrupt so I can explain this. It’s a little… complicated.”

Complicated was, generally speaking, not good. But Kanan just nodded. “Okay. I’ll listen.”

Gratitude crossing her face, Hera said, “Thank you.” Rubbing her forehead, she was quiet for a minute, her expression thoughtful. Finally, she said, “I don’t know how much you know about Twi’lek culture— I’m assuming not much.”

“You would be right,” Kanan said slowly. Okay, there’s definitely something I’m missing here.

Nodding, Hera said, “I thought so. Part of it— something I was taught growing up— is that saying… what you said… well, it’s more serious than it is for other cultures. Most Twi’leks at home wouldn’t tell someone that until… until they were married.”

“Oh,” Kanan said, his eyes widening. 

“Yes,” Hera said. “It’s treated as something very personal, even for family members. It’s not just words, it’s the beginning of a promise. A promise for a future. And you don’t just say it, especially not out in the open—”

“Like I just did,” Kanan finished. Wincing, he said, “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

Shaking her head, Hera said, “It’s fine. I should have explained it to you earlier. It’s—” she let out a half-laugh, her smile more like a grimace. “There’s a lot of my home that I’ve left behind. But this is one of the things I’ve held onto, at least unconsciously. It’s what I always believed.”

Slowly, Kanan said, “Okay— that makes sense. First of all, I will absolutely respect this. If you don’t want me to say anything like that, I won’t. And Force knows you don’t have to say anything.”

But Hera was already shaking her head. “No. No, you’re— you’re fine, actually. We do technically say it, we just don’t… say it. Verbally, that is. There are a lot of parts of the Ryl language that aren’t communicated out loud, but with the lekku. Hence why there aren’t many non Twi’leks who can speak it well.”

“Makes sense,” Kanan said with a nod. “So you’re saying—”

“I’m saying that… I’m fine with it if you say it. And…” Kanan saw her blush again as she seemed to gather herself. “I feel the same way. I’m just not going to say it out loud, and I’m sorry—”

Catching hold of her hand, Kanan said, “Don’t apologize. This one’s on me— and I understand.” His mind flashed to the way she’d hugged him when they’d rescued him from the Empire. To the way her eyes glowed when she smiled at him, when she kissed him. To the fact that she’d come home, exhausted, and chosen to spend her time with him. To the way she called him “love”.

She was saying that she loved him, too, even if it wasn’t out loud.

“I won’t say it too often,” he promised her. “But I am going to say it, because Force only knows I was bad enough at disguising my feelings before. And it’s only going to get worse from here.”

Hera let out a slightly breathless laugh. “I’m okay with that.”

“Good.” Bending down, Kanan kissed her gently, holding her close for a long moment. When he finally pulled away, a slight movement caught his eye. Her lekku were twisting together behind her, in a spiral shape. He’d seen them do that before, but only now had he realized what it might mean.

“That’s what that means, doesn’t it?” he asked softly, brushing a thumb along her temple near the base of her lekku. 

Her blush was answer enough, as was the small, secretive smile she gave him. Kanan made a mental note to properly learn more Ryl, and leaned in to kiss the woman he loved again.

[thattimdrakeguy]

The Flash isn't all all-around horrible movie. There's a lot of good things in it. The problem with the movie is a bunch of stuff that eventually all comes together by the end and just wrecks the fucking thing like a ball that wrecks--Some sort of...wrecking ball if you will.

So seeing people online try to talk like Harvard graduates having a discussion about the prospects of the movie Flash by scrambling to the scattered pieces that were wrecked and trying to tape together something that made it seem good, is really funny to me.

There's some parts of that movie I thought were legitimately great. Some parts made me laugh my off.

I hated most of the "Hi, I'm Barry, an awkward, loser, virgin" humor. Since for a good chunk of the film the main Barry doesn't act like that. It's like it's hold back from Justice League movie Barry that people seem to have agreed to hate.

The movies main fault besides Ezra Miller being in the news so much for not so good things, is simply that it can't help itself.

The logic for multiverse travel makes no sense. The movie basically says "it's fate" at a certain point, and that's after the scientific explanation that makes no sense.

Why does Bruce Wayne look like the dude just for later on to look more like Bruce Wayne ever has before in the previous Michael Keaton appearances. (The costume department did a stellar job.)

The Lasso of Truth doesn't work like that.

People keep reacting to things the way people would not react to things.

The Chrono-Bowel, looks cool, but functionally it doesn't make any sense when the idea of Flash's time traveling is just running really fast. Trying to visualize that with a place were he can stand totally still sort of takes away the SPEED part of the speed-force that's necessary to be related to speed. Perhaps in another movie it would've been great beyond the shitty CGI that made things look like statues.

Most of the things that make it a multiverse movie would probably be better without it story wise, for the sake of simplifying things, even though I think Michael Keaton was at his best as Batman in this one. ignoring the really weird "You wanna get nuts" line, that doesn't work, because that's not exactly a thing he says. It's a thing he said once in a specific context.

The movie's version of time travel as it's previously shown to work no longer works, and they break it several times. Making it have no logic, which makes following things confusing, because things aren't happening the way they explain previously.

Supergirl hardly does jack shit, and says hardly jack shit. Her presence in the movie is so small, I sometimes forget she's in the movie. Her parts aren't bad. She just gets hardly anything to do, and feels like a tossed in character to go "Oooo, multiverse".

And it's mostly these things fans of the film keep showing going 'LOOK, IT'S GOOD, IT'S GOOD' even the visuals, which can at times get good. I think at first the visuals stink rotten ass, but do genuinely get better at a certain point just to get sort of hard to follow during the final act again.

So even if you really liked the movie. Why are you trying to excuse shit, that's shit no matter how you spin it?

'Oh, this scene with the baby is showing his intelligence and is very creative.'

It also looks fake as fuck and uncanny valley babies freak people the fuck out.

Despite how I don't think I can qualify the movie as a good movie critically speaking, I still think there's a lot of good stuff in the movie. It's just--no one really talks about it, at least much. It's strange.

It feels like no one saw the movie that says they liked it.

[mx-lamour]

my memorys super stinky and i forget who i do/dont send asks too so ignore if i did hehe; im sending asks to people with 'ask me anything' in their bio thingy; feel free to answer or not, or however youd like!

what is your favorite holiday or occasion/theme?

what fragrance/scents put you in a good mood?

what kind of weather do you love?

if you could have a dream about anything, what would you dream about?

what kind of treats do you love/make you feel happy?

what's your favorite hands-on activity (or what would you like to try)?

what kind of music are you craving/listening to right now?

what's something that makes you smile/laugh when you think about it?

I love asks! ty! ♡

Favorite holiday/occasion/theme:

Mabon and weddings.

What fragrance/scent puts you in a good mood?

Petrichor and cinnamon/pie spices.

What kind of weather do you love?

That summer thing where it rains gently but the sun is still shining and the color green gets super saturated.

The kind of still, perfect temperature where you almost can't even feel the air, and it's dark but the sky is clear and you can see the stars.

When it's going to rain, hard, but not yet, and there's the sneaking undercurrent of a breeze, too low to be wind, and it's the kind of uncanny dim where you have no frame of reference for the time of day, and everything in the world seems to be holding its breath.

I like liminal weather.

If you could dream about anything?

I have no idea how to answer this one, haha. I'm always dreaming.

Treats that make you happy?

Cheesecake is the first thing that comes to mind. I eat it very rarely, but it's delicious. The consistency is very rich and satisfying.

My mom used to do homemade cheesecake sometimes, and I have a serious nostalgia for grasshopper (mint/chocolate) in particular.

My husband and I pilgrimmage to the Cheesecake Factory around Valentine's Day most years. (I think my favorite there is the mango lime flavor.)

Oh gods. Tiramisu. I go crazy for tiramisu.

What's your favorite hands-on activity (or what would you like to try)?

A fascinating new one: I just learned how to tack up and ride a horse for the first time! I did it for research/writing, but now I really want to ride a horse again. It was very cool. I got the info I needed for my fic, but I don't think I've yet figured out the vocabulary to really fully describe the experience. Very stimmy, though; soothing and exciting. That good riding posture, man. I get it now. I get why people love horses.

Current music:

Pretty much just constantly on my D&D and fanfic playlists. Here's kind of a random selection...

"Start a War" by Klergy/Valerie Broussard is stuck in my head rn.

"Two Gypsies" by Solace is what I listen to about Ezra's mom.

"The Pines" by Roses & Revolutions is for my Immortality fic.

"Lover. Fighter." by SVRCINA has been a good all-purpose one.

"The Empire of Winds" by Alpine Universe is just a serious vibe.

"Dracula" by Bea Miller is one of my latest bops.

"No F.E.A.R." by Madalen Duke, also fun.

Something that makes you smile/laugh when you think about it?

Embarrassing old men.

(I was going to add something to that, but I literally just wrote it and busted up, so. I guess that's it. 🤣)

[dragon-snoots-a-boopin]

Before I start this I want to make sure I am very clear when I say that MOST OF WHAT I AM GOING TO SAY IS MY OPINION AND MINE ALONE. You are more than welcome to disagree, just be respectful about it.

It has come to my attention that the most recent MCU movie, The Marvels, has landed itself in the position of being the worst MCU movie ever, only bringing in around $47 million. This is worse than the 2008 Incredible Hulk movie in a comparison to another Marvel movie and is also worse than the recent The Flash movie. I've heard that this has put Marvel and Disney in a bit of disarray, with them thinking that they "need" to bring back Robert Downey Jr. and Chris Evans to drive interest back into MCU movies.

To me, hearing this makes me laugh quite a bit. My opinion is two fold here. The first is that all of the MCU movies after No Way Home have been so uninteresting that I didn't bother or downright terrible that I wish I had not watched then. The second is that if Disney/Marvel's idea of "fixing" the issue is to bring back their two big name actors then the MCU is in more trouble than they realize.

MCU movies like Black Widow, Shang-Chi, The Eternals, Doctor Strange 2, Thor 4 and Black Panther II just had little to no interest in them for me to even make me want to watch them and the one I did, Doctor Strange 2, was just awful. My biggest opinion as to why I think the MCU has been hurting is because of the Marvel shows on Disney+. Contrary to popular belief, not everyone can afford/has access to Disney+ so, for example, my own self was utterly lost with what happened to Wanda and Vision because I had not seen their show. I think this is a case too as to why I have very little interest in The Marvels because I've not watched Ms. Marvel so how am I supposed to know who this character is without having watched their show?

Personally, I think that TV shows based on Marvel characters is a fine enough idea but would be better if they were in their own self contained universe and not connect to the greater MCU as a whole. This is what the Netflix Marvel shows like Daredevil, Jessica Jones, Luke Cage, Iron Fist, The Defenders and The Punisher did and those shows, in my opinion, were better off for it. As an example, I find that this is what makes the Arrowverse so good is that they didn't try to tie it all into the DCEU, even with Ezra Miller's Flash having a cameo in Crisis. The MCU's storytelling has become inconsistant over all the movie and the TV shows are not really helping if you ask me.

But, I think that the other biggest problem with the MCU is that they seem to have a thing for quantity over quality. This is apparent when you see that it would take someone around 350 hours to get through all of the current stuff in the MCU and that is just stupid. I'm sorry but that is just too much. But, what will Disney/Marvel do? I have no fucking idea honestly. Marvel is too much of a money maker for Disney for them to just stop. The only thing I feel like they can do is to slow down and make better quality movies and not this quantity over quality strategy that results in a more hit and miss thing with each movie.

[marveloustimestwo]

I think Thor himself said that too “The Avengers are really good friends but the Guardians are a family” I love the Avengers too, it’s just like you said: the guardians have a special place in our hearts

“That's why even though they did get a good ending where nobody died, I both love and hate the fact that they split up at the end.” SAMEEEE! I wanted them to stay together forever 🥺

That’s what I thought too! To see how they built their world, how do they manage their relationships and everything. And they are so smart too, I mean they could communicate with Peter really fast even tho, they looked like they never ever saw anyone from outside their world

Right? Even 3 or 4 high schoolers (if I don’t remember it wrong) were beating another 🤔 That wasn’t very peaceful

That’s why I think the actors/actresses did perfect on not wanting to come back after James left, he created something so beautiful that I prefer things stay in that way. But to be honest, if he wants to come back and do something more with the Guardians I would totally watch it lol

And, related but not related? I’m curious about what James’s gonna do on DC now  🤔

Exactly. I always viewed the Avengers as a whole as coworkers. Some were good friends, like Nat and Clint or Thor and Bruce, but it never felt like a family. They saved the world a few times, went on some missions, and then did their own things separately.

Meanwhile, the Guardians were together all of the time after they became a team (that we know, at least.) They lived together on a ship and repeatedly said that they would die for and with each other. The only reason they ever separated (before GotG3) was because of forces much stronger than them, aka Thanos.

After that, they found themselves in different places with different goals and needs, so they decided to grow individually for a while to accomplish those goals. But despite that, there was no conflict like with the Avengers. It was clear to all of them that they still had affection and love for each other, and that they were still a family while being apart.

So while it is sad to see it all end, you're right to say it is something beautifully made. If James Gunn and the actors ever do decide to come back, I would really love to see what they each got up to. How Peter connects with his Grandad and Earth, what Rocket and the new Guardians do, what Nebula and Drax do on Knowhere, and what Mantis and her new pets get up to on their adventures. It would make for a great miniseries.

Same for the humanoid animals, too. While they were made to be perfect, they ended up becoming a lot like humans anyway. I would love to see how they developed their own culture and language while slowly also becoming more like humans and imperfect.

As for James Gunn and DC, I'm also pretty curious as to what he's going to do with it. I think it was kind of weird to get rid of Henry Cavill and not Ezra Miller. Objectively, Cavill's movies and portrayal of Superman were better than what Ezra did with the Flash.

If Cavill doesn't come back, it would be cool to see Tyler Hoechlin come into the main DC universe as Superman instead. From what I've seen, he does a pretty good job. It'd also be cool to see Grant Gustin as the Flash instead of Ezra, though he'd probably be tired of it considering he's been playing it for the past nine years.

Still, James Gunn has a pretty good track record of making great superhero movies. Outside of the Guardians, I liked his work with the Suicide Squad and Brightburn. I have some hope that he'll make DC movies that are at least fun to watch.

[menalez]

wait wwhat i dont have any real ones bc lesbanse but what about fake male celeb crushes Like. Random men you chose to pretend to think of as hot for seeming straight purposds 😭😭

I think i chose:

francisco lachowski (i find him so hideous with his beard.... and I remember being grossed oht when i went to look at shirtless pictures of him as part of the act. Literally liks "yess... im suuuch a man liking girl. Not at all a lesbian..EW YCUCK! put your SHIRT bback on!!!" Im actually so confused thinking back to it. Why did i do these things)

I forgot my reason for picking him but it mightv been from searching "most attractive man. male models."

Dylan o brien because Cindy Kimberly was obsessed with him and i was obsessed with her for a short period of time (not even as much as a crush though shes very beautiful but bc i wanted to look like her because... face dysmorphia) i always thought dylan was so hilariously stupid looking but i was liek "heyy we should watch teen wolf for the totaly sexyyy dylan o brien.. 😏" to my best friend at the time

Ezra miller (I KNOW) because my friend was obsessed with ezra miller, i made my phone background him while finding him so ugly, because my friend was like hes sooo cute lets watch every movie of his. This was before the... all of it. But still deranged 😭😭 id watch edits of him from the movie where hes a school shooter and just look like 😶 🤨 while the comments are saying how hot he is!!

And finally like 3 yrs ago, "Wilbur Soot" the mcyt guy.... yeah. Guess why? Bcc a friend was obsessed wwith him 😭😭😭😭

Consistently being a little liar, woohoo🎉

okay so like. i can see why women might find him attractive. i feel completely neutral about his appearance which i guess is a good sign? i dont know… but he looks symmetrical so good for him. also when googling him a shirtless pic popped up and i had the same reaction as u 😭truly idk what the appeal is when it comes to men’s bodies. theyre lacking boobies which looks wrong and shaped weird…

absolutely horrendous. basically all his featured combined together are wrong. he reminds me of a monkey a little idk why.

i had to google “ezra miller hot” just to find a semi-decent picture of him… and still what came up was meh at best. he looks like a semi-decent looking eastern european-ish man. his nose looks wrong and his eyes are very far apart but i imagine women with his exact features would be beautiful. also his jaw is like that one guy on tiktok

and the last guy…

hes okay… i guess… but i saw pics of him not smiling and he looks very ugly in them. he looks alright when hes smiling. i hate his vibe tho…. hes suspicious

[championoftheoppressed]

So I watched the Justice League movies...

Not entirely sure why, considering I did not enjoy Man of Steel or Batman v Superman. But I wanted something to watch while I was crocheting, and there it was. After finishing the original theatrical version by Whedon -- which I didn't think was THAT bad -- I was so curious about the Snyder cut that I watched it in chunks. I don't think I got much out of it in terms of expanding my DC knowledge, but as a video editor, I found it fascinating to see so much of the same movie with such different executions.

Overall? Both films are mid. I would say that the Snyder cut is better, as it fixes several problems with the Whedon cut -- but at the same time it introduces new problems, such as an unforgivable runtime. The ideal version of the movie is honestly somewhere between the two cuts -- and frankly, that ideal version would probably still just be okay.

The Good! Both Versions

Both versions of the film are leagues better than both Man of Steel and Batman v Superman. This mainly comes down to the characters, who are actually charismatic in this movie and show signs of life. It's not a complete chore to sit through it, and you do become invested in things as they go along.

Some of the cast is excellent -- Gal Gadot as Wonder Woman, Jason Momoa as Aquaman, Ray Fisher as Cyborg, and Ezra Miller as Barry Allen (I know they suck but the performance was good).

The Bad! Both Versions

The story doesn't follow well off BvS, at all. The movie wants you to believe that Superman was a great symbol of hope for the entire world, but a large part of the plot in BvS was that people were terrified of Superman. The Whedon cut also wants you to believe that Clark and Bruce were good friends, when they only knew each other for five minutes.

Also, the DCEU is just fundamentally broken. It feels like this film wants to jump straight to what Marvel didn't get to for a decade. These characters barely know each other -- you have to earn these kinds of relationships and stakes and massive plot moments. The groundwork simply isn't laid for this story to be satisfying.

Steppenwolf is an underwhelming villain, and he so rarely interacts with the main characters that he doesn't really feel like a threat.

The core characters are still just really bland -- Ben Affleck's Bruce Wayne, Henry Cavill's Clark Kent, and Amy Adams' Lois Lane.

The Good! Whedon Cut

For the most part, I prefer the color grading of the Whedon cut. Sometimes the lighting is too flat and doesn't have much depth, but I appreciate that the movie is allowed to have color.

Bruce had a nice moment with Barry, telling him to just save one person and that he would know what to do after that. I was sad to see that gone in the Snyder cut.

The Bad! Whedon Cut

Things just aren't explained. It's never to the point where you can't follow along, but watching the Snyder cut really drove home how many basic things simply aren't elaborated on. The mother boxes aren't explained. Cyborg gets the bare minimum, and that's it. It's like the speedrun version of the story.

A lot of the humor doesn't work. A few moments here and there did -- Flash saving one truck while Superman moves an entire apartment building made me laugh -- but when every character turns into a joke machine during moments that are supposed to be serious, it doesn't work.

Superman's upper lip. I know it's a meme at this point, but it really does look so bad. It's so distracting.

The Good! Snyder Cut

Things are given proper explanations! It feels like a full movie here.

Cyborg actually gets to be a character in this one. Honestly, he's probably the best character with the most complete arc.

The group feels much more like a proper team. There's even brief moments to explore some of their individual dynamics.

Instead of every character being a joke machine, Barry is more clearly the comic relief character, with everyone else only getting an occasional zinger. This work so much better and actually suits the tone of the movie.

The Bad! Snyder Cut

This movie has no respect for your time. It is four hours long for absolutely no reason -- it could be and should have been three hours. Many scenes can be cut entirely. Even more can be significantly trimmed down. You're frequently given repetitive info, or moments that just aren't necessary. The overall pace of the movie is slow and methodical, with lots of slow motion. But not every scene needs this. This is by far what drags the movie down the most.

The soundtrack is awful. Many scenes have grating guitar noises that don't suit the tone whatsoever, and any time Wonder Woman shows up there's an ethereal wailing sound that the captions called "ancient lamentation" -- it got old fast.

The movie is incredibly desaturated and visually unappealing. I understand that it suits the tone he was going for, but as Cosmonaut Variety Hour on YouTube said -- if you can't even tell that someone's hair is supposed to be red, it's too much.

The more square aspect ratio also didn't work for me. There were a lot of awkward framings to accommodate it, and it made certain shots feel weird -- especially action shots with multiple people.

I hate Superman's black suit. I hate it so much. He's supposed to be coming back as the symbol of hope -- so he wears all black, instead of his usual bright ensemble? Terrible decision.

[pinkorchidsinspring]

Sophie and Joe faked their two daughters as did Meghan Markle. It is obvious actors from the industry supporting Dems fake their relationships, fake their kids because according to MAGA they are part of the secret cabbal. But you should believe what other people tell you on the internet. Isn't it why Trumps and qanon troll factories are doing it 24/7. Spreading conspiracy theories so it will help them hickjack people. People are so gullible. Always fall for all the tinhat crap qanon spreads.

Hey anon! I hope your day is going well, I’m gonna start this off by making sure you know I had to put this in chat gpt to make sure I wasn’t missing any of the numerous (slightly confusing) points of this message.

From what I understand you’re trying to say that people/I should be cautious in believing conspiracy theories? While I agree with that, there’s significant evidence for the things I post about, but no evidence of any kind in relation to Megan Markle or Joe & Sofie’s “fake kids”, hense why I don’t post about those type of theories.

If your point was to imply that I’m a quanon/trump supporter you would be so far from correct that you could win a record for farthest jump to conclusions.. I am not in fact a lesbian trump supporter. While there are lesbians who support trump I’m sure, I am not one of them.

If your point was to suggest that I believe everything I read on the internet, you would once again be wrong. I’m not saying this with any ill intent but as a Gen Z we were quite literally raised with the saying “don’t believe everything you see on the internet”, hense why everything I post has significant evidence behind it to support any theory I post on here. My blog has and always will be a safe space to make mistakes, be creative, share your opinion, and be wrong because that’s a part of life.

As a Gen Z I do believe that closeting in an industry that has always proved itself to be a racist, sexist, and homophobic environment is real. Why do you think publicists are employed? The only reason celebs are celebs is because these publicists make sure the public image of these people is so controlled, you can’t find any flaws. As for bearding or fake kids, there are plenty of celebrities that have come out, and said that this is exactly what happened to them.

Here’s a list of some of the first people that pop up, this isn’t all of them but if you don’t believe me here’s a few of many:

Rock Hudson

Rosie O’Donnell

Chely Wright

Colton Haynes

Ezra Miller

Elliot Page

Kristen Stewart

Cara Delevingne

Matt Bomer

Samira Wiley

Jonathan Bailey

Matt Dallas

Evan Rachel Wood

Olly Alexander

Here’s these people in order left to right up to down-

Of course a whole collage for the queens-

[naughtygirl286]

So yes we finally went to see the Flash this past Tuesday (July 4th) and yes of course there was some collectable goodies to go with it which you can see here.

but as for the movie itself I don't see what the problem is with this movie? I personally thought it was great and so did a few others that I went with Now one of the people I went with they didn't really grasp what was going on in it and before we went to see it I has to kinda quickly explain the basic story/idea of Flashpoint to them being they are a comic book person. but other then that everyone else seemed to love it

So I don't know why it is getting so much hate I can't see it. I know some people have been angry that it was not identical to the Flashpoint comics story line and to that I would say that its not suppose to be and that's true it is loosely based on aspects of the Flashpoint story and you are dealing with the movie universe and the complains that I heard regarding source material makes me of this

"If you want to experience something identical to the source material, then go reread the source material. Adaptations are not meant to cater only to those who are fanatically enamored of the original work. Copying a novel or comic book word for word, note for note, scene for scene to film is no guarantee that even the fanbase will be satisfied. Some elements are there, others are changed, some left out, new ones are added."

Now like I said I thought the movie was absolutely great!! I in fact loved it. I would say I enjoyed it alot from the opening action scene with Batman (Affleck) and the "Baby Shower" to the final showdown in the "Crono Sphere" with the "Dark Flash" and a rather shocking ending.

One thing I feel about this movie is it comes off of the heels of Zack Snyder's Justice League like I feel that you should watch that before you watch this being that the flash scenes in that are related to some of the story in this like they seem to reference some of those flash scenes in Zack Snyder's Justice League in this movie Like this movie takes place a couple of years after the events of Zack Snyder's Justice League like this is a follow up to that.

The movie does have alot of action but I do feel that it is a lighter more fun movie there is alot of humor and funny moments in this which is good being I have always seen the Flash as a bit of a action comedy and I can say that the movie is a visual spectacle it also full of heart and the humor and the drama/seriousness balance out great.

I do have to say Ezra Miller is great in this role as Barry Allen/The Flash I feel that this movie give him a moment to shine as this character becasue we didn't get to see much of him in other stuff outside of Justice League besides a few cameos so I feel that he did a great job with this role and he took it and ran with it (pun intended). Now with that said if I was casting the character I don't know if I would have chosen Ezra Miller I always though Ryan Reynolds would have made a great Barry Allen. but I do feel that Ezra Miller does a great job as this character and I feel that the Flash as a character matures through out the movie where he is like a acting like a kid at the first of it and is a mature adult guy by the end. Like he learns life lessons and things about himself and that choices especially selfish ones can have serious consequences and I fell that he is a better stronger person by the end of the movie

I also have to say Michael Keaton returning as a older Bruce Wayne was awesome he truly is Batman. He was amazing every time he was onscreen you just love watching him in this role and it was awesome to bring him back for his it was pure nostalgic fun.

Now as for Sasha Calle as Kara Zor-El aka Supergirl she isn't really in it alot at least I didn't really think so but the screen time she has is pretty awesome I thought she did an amazing job with this character and I was very pleased with what they did with her

and of course Michael Shannon as the returning Zod was again perfect and everyone else who was in this was excellent.

I did hear people complain about the visuals but I had nothing wrong with the visuals I thought it was all really cool and really interesting how they did everything in regards to their depiction of Time Travel and the idea of the Multiverse

I have to say the Multiverse sequence was amazing!! the cameos and the references were in my opinion perfect!! I loved them! and I felt like they were done with absolute love and respect to the actors and characters that came before and also I was so happy that we finally got Nicolas Cage's Superman fighting a giant spider on the big screen when I seen that I gasped and was smiling ear to ear

but yeah I thought the movie was truly great! I personalty think it is up there with Spider-Man: No Way Home I know people will disagree/debate me on that but that is my opinion and that is how I feel and if you don't like it that's tough! I just feel bad that people won't give it a fair chance I was excited for it and waited for it and I happily went to see it and I enjoyed it. I believe everyone should make up their own mind about it but first you have to see it to do that. but anyway like I said I enjoyed it

also yes there is a after credits its a funny bit with Aquaman so stay around for that.

[weonfunaki]

After years of having to have conversations with feminists and understand their perspectives - I have given up.

From https://www.reddit.com/r/LeftWingMaleAdvocates/comments/y08v5a/after_years_of_having_to_have_conversations_with/ As above. I support equality of opportunity for all and egalitarianism. I get angry at the thought of people being discriminated against due to things outside their control, and do not believe women are second-class citizens or any of that nonsense. I find many feminist critiques of society convincing and believe that they highlight important issues. In my personal life, I greatly admire and am attracted to strong women. I've never made sexist remarks (at least not since I was about 13), never belittled or assaulted a woman - I consider myself a pretty model young man in terms of behaviour. And I would, hesitantly, describe myself as a 'feminist'.

Why 'hesitantly'? My encounters with nearly every single - especially young - woman who identifies as a feminist and is outspoken about it throughout my life have been awful and left me feeling miserable and frustrated and, sometimes - honestly - victimised. I'm a 26 year old straight white male. I have had some advantages due to this, naturally. However, I've also been seriously ill since I was about 20 (very high odds its ALS), am chronically depressed and lonely, have no friends, haven't had so much as a smile from a woman in nearly a decade and am currently unemployed and just struggling. I had a lot of these issues at university, where I would have to sit through lecture after lecture, seminar after seminar, filled with normally healthy, attractive, clever, socially well-adjusted (with plenty of friends and partners) young women making embittered and ragey remarks about 'pale, stale males', the patriarchy, and presenting themselves as some kind of downtrodden minority. At that point, I did not know that what I had wrong with me was likely ALS but I knew that I was facing troubles well beyond the remit of their issues with pronouns and lack of trigger warnings. And while I sympathised with many of their points I found their self-absorption (and - which I'll come to in a moment - hypocrisy) very off-putting.

A few times I remember very politely trying to suggest that some of their worldview might be a little reductive and being shouted down, borderline abused. Many of these so-called champions of egalitarianism and woke 'kindness' thought it was perfectly acceptable to mock me for being socially awkward and not physically attractive (the result of a minor disfigurement caused by a drug - it's a long story). This was at an elite UK university, supposed to be a sanctum of healthy debate (Oxbridge), but the overall atmosphere was almost like a echo chamber, and it was common for what were supposed to be discussions about literary theory to degenerate into a form of straight-white-male bashing. At many points, these young women moved well beyond disinterested academic critique and into what I can only describe as polemics. Some genuinely seemed to think that every straight white male enjoyed a life equivalent to Ezra Miller, and behaved like him too. No issues existed for them outside of (comparatively) minor gripes about culture and proper representation of various kinds of women in films. Most professed to be left-wing, but the extent of their left politics amounted to pushing policies that would help themselves (already very privileged upper-middle-class women) get even more opportunities, while ignoring those with other disadvantages (say working-class autistic white men (a good friend of mine was this, and got bullied for it)). Judging by their lifestyles they were certainly not left-leaning economically.

It's gotten to the point now where I actually don't talk to young, university-educated women. First, because due to my health and issues I would never have any kind of relationship with them anyway, and I likely won't be around for very long. But also, because I cannot bear the veiled hostility, the self-absorption, misplaced anger and hypocrisy. Meeting some young feminists, I honestly feel like they hate me, simply for having white skin and being a man. Were I to tell them about my health and social struggles they would either (1) not care at all, or (2) laugh, deeming it just punishment for the crime of having a penis. I'm exaggerating, obviously, but I don't think that is too far from the truth.

It makes me angry how comparatively minor feminist issues suck up so much oxygen in public debates and media and more objectively serious issues (say, ALS and the amount of awful diseases around that still aren't treatable because of lack of funding and attention) get shoved to the sides. The Guardian is particularly bad for this. Just recently it was pushing an article about an upper-middle-class female beauty journalist whose 'devastatingly handsome' boyfriend had come out as trans. Besides the thinly disguised transphobia I felt bubbling beneath the surface, I was struck by how the paper was presenting this issue as though it was the nadir of suffering and a 'problem' worthy of serious public attention and debate. It was a case of two people growing apart in a relationship and breaking up - something normal and inevitable. I see similarly strange pieces daily discoursing on things like hidden microaggressions and 'encoded' misogyny. No doubt these things exist, but are they really so devastating and destructive to people's lives, is the suffering they promote so awful that they need to be permanently at the centre of the public's consciousness? I don't think so.

I'm a straight white man and I would happily be reincarnated as a black lesbian with an artificial leg tomorrow if it meant that I could be healthy and have a normal life expectancy. And I'd far rather be a black lesbian with an artificial leg who is socially accomplished and able to date than a straight white man who is neither of those things.

[samarashoot]

book tag from @earlymodernlesbian !! most of these will be picture books for reasons of i have to read so many of them for work and also have not had time to read many more substantial things

Last book I…

bought: i bought a few when i went out on a bookstore date with my beloved roommate a few weekends ago but the one i'm most excited about is the city we became by n.k. jemisin! i read how long 'til black future month? last year and adored it, especially the short story that the city we became is based on, so i'm very excited to get into the full thing

borrowed: i'm currently reading ezra's copy of torch song trilogy by harvey fierstien, i am enjoying it a lot but i think i would get more out of it by seeing a live or recorded production of it, which i suppose is probably true of all plays but this one in particular would benefit from being able to see the staging/blocking and the way the dialogue actually comes across yknow

was gifted: i was sent an arc of mama and mommy and me in the middle by nina lacour and kaylani juanita and i just adore it. it did make me tear up the first time i read it

gave/lent to someone: this is a reminder that i have to send my brother copies of angels in america by tony kushner and exile and pride by eli clare because they both target very specific interests of his

started: margaret & the mystery of the missing body, also on ezra's recommendation, it is very good and weird and unsettling and also taps perfectly into the feeling of being 8 years old and devouring pony pals and animal ark books and spending half your life in a hazy daydream where you're having the kinds of adventures you read about and wondering why you don't feel like other girls even though you think girls are really cool

finished: not counting picture books: one hundred demons by lynda barry! i loved it so much. beautiful and weird and funny and a perfect encapuslation of being a Weird Kid just trying to figure out how the world works

gave 5 stars: when aidan became a brother by kyle lukoff & kaylani juanita! for my job i read so many kids' books that try to teach about gender and transness and some of them do an excellent job and many do not. this is one of the excellent ones

gave 2 stars: rooster wore skinny jeans by jessie miller & barbara bakos. this book is a favorite at my workplace and i cannot stand it. in theory a cute story about confidence and self-expression but it's so bafflingly consumerist in a way that i have never seen in any other kids' book

didn’t finish: i've been trying and failing to read art as experience by john dewey since last summer but it's just so dense that i haven't been able to get more than 30 pages in. someday i will finish it but it's back on my shelf for now

tagging: @frannyglassed & @kallistoi & @flitwickslittlebrotha & whomever else wants to do it!

[thatsgay-writes]

Elle Greenaway x Reader

Summary: Elle makes a shocking discovery after they catch an unsub. (Follows along season 1 episode 7)

Warning: Criminal Mind stuff

The reader is given a name, for certain purposes and it is third person on purpose.

Word Count: 2.5k

Dr. Thomas Fuller wrote, “with foxes, we must play the fox.”

---

“Bad?” Agent Hotchner asks as Elle handed him a folder. “The worst.” Elle responds as they head to the round table room. Gideon stood in front of a board as he looked at all of the images. “Crawford family. Murdered 3 days ago.” He says just as Derek walked in, “Saw it on the news.” He says as he takes a quick look at the board as he walks by. “They were found in the basement of their house...” Gideon says, still staring at the images. “Bags packed for a vacation they never took.” JJ continues for him. “Report said it was a murder/suicide. The father stabbed the mom, then shot himself.” Derek says as he sits down, still not fully sure as to why they were taking it as a case. “That’s the conclusion the Maryland State police came to. The gun was next to the father, he had gunpower residue on his right hand.” JJ states as she states a few things listed on the report in front of her. “And now you must have some compelling reason to think that Chris Crawford didn’t off his family?” Derek asks, looking to JJ for a response. “Yeah. Another murdered family. The Millers-- found a month ago. The mother, Reese Miller, her two children and her new husband. Again, they were found in the basement and like the Crawford's, their suitcases were packed for a vacation.”

---

“Elle!” Bailey yelled as she ran towards her girlfriend. Elle Greenaway and Bailey Woods had been friends since Kindergarten, both managing to stay in the same school all the way through middle school and up to high school. In 8th grade, they both finally confessed the feelings they held for each other. “Bailey?” Elle asked in concern as she watched her girlfriend run up to her, tears visibly rolling down her face. “Bailey, baby, what’s wrong?” Elle asked as she scooped the younger girl, by a few months, into her arms. “Did someone do something? Tell me who and we can beat them up together.” Elle said, semi-seriously. You just shook your head as you held onto her shirt tightly. It was the week before Junior year ended, the only tears falling from your face should be happy ones. “What happened?” Elle asked concerned, you had never acted like this before. She knew it couldn’t have anything to do with your dad since he was home for the next few months.

Elle made a split second decision and led you out of the school before any of the teachers could notice. “C’mon, let’s go.” She said to you as she opened the passenger door to your car. She had taken the keys from your pocket, knowing you were in no condition to drive. As she drove to your secret spot, you managed to calm down some and were taking deep breaths to calm all the way down. Elle parked in one of the parking spots at the top of the abandoned parking garage and turned off the car. “Can you tell me what’s wrong now?” She asked as she reached over the middle section and grabbed your hand. You took a few more deep breaths before looking up at her, heartbreak shone through your eyes. “I’m moving.”

---

Elle stood outside the interrogation room as she watched Reid talk to Eric Miller. “Is that what this is about, hmm? You think I’m crazy, man? You think I suddenly snapped and slaughtered my own wife and kids?” Eric kept asking questions as he got more and more agitated. “You think I did this? Huh? Is that what you think!?” Eric yelled as he suddenly stood up. Elle looked to Hotch with wide eyes before they entered the room. “Sit down.” Hotch told Eric firmly. Reid was the youngest on the team and it was his first time doing an interrogation solo, so Elle and Hotch were a little protective over him. “Is this your daddy?”

--- South East Washington D.C

Elle sat quietly in her seat as she sat in the back seat of the car as they drove towards the address Hotch and Garcia had found while snooping through the Crawford’s financials. Reid and Hotch both shared a look at the unusually quiet Elle. Usually when in the car, she would be looking over a file or talking to others to understand more about the case but tis time she was just staring out a window. “Is... Um, is everything okay?” Reid asked, his voice going a little high at the end of his question. His question shook Elle out of whatever she was thinking about, “Yeah... Maryland just brings back some memories...” You’ve been here before?” Hotch asks, concerned about the other agent but also making sure that nothing would intervene with the case they were working on. Elle sat silently for a few seconds before answering right as they pulled up to their destination, “No.”

“Federal Agents!” “FBI” “Federal Agents!” “Clear!” Hotch, Elle, and Derek all yelled simultaneously as they busted through the front door of the home. Elle scrunched her nose in disgust at the sight of the home, “Cleanest thing in here...” She muttered as she kicked what looked like an empty dog bowl. She stayed at the front of the house with Gideon and Reid as Derek and Hotch went deeper into the home. She watched with a questioning gaze as Gideon walked over to the wall and picked up a single painting that was hanging. “What’s that?” She asked as Gideon looked down at the drawing. “It’s a child’s painting. It’s a colonial house. Mom, dad, 2 children out front holding hands.” Gideon listed what he saw. “And a big dog.” She states as she looks over his shoulder.

---

Bailey and Elle laid together in her bed, the end of summer coming faster than ever before. She and Elle had spent almost all their time together, going on dates, spending nights at each other’s houses, etc. Anywhere Elle went, Bailey were there, and anywhere Bailey went, Elle was there. Right now the two of them were laying in Bailey’s bed watching T.V. “Stop staring at me.” Elle mumbles as she stares at the television. Bailey lets out a breath of air and rolls her eyes with a groan, “Love meeee, I want attentionnnnn.” She draws out causing Elle to playfully roll her eyes in response. “Fine, come here.” Elle says as she opens her arms out for Bailey to lay in. Bailey plays with Elle’s hair as she laid her head on her girlfriends chest. “I want kisses...” “Bailey repeats over and over again, like a chant. “Geez, someone is clingy today.” Elle states as she sits up and leans back against the wall. Bailey shifted around so she was now straddling Elle. “I leave in 3 weeks... I just wanna kiss my girlfriend.” Bailey pouts as Elle finally gives in. “Okayyyy.” She says with fake annoyance.

Bailey and Elle were deep into a make out session when her door suddenly busted open. “Eww!” “Ezra!” Bailey yelled as her sister covered her eyes with her arms. “Eww! Not you too! Mommy and daddy were doing that too!” The 5 year old yelled causing Bailey to laugh. Bailey gets off of Elle’s lap and picks up her little sister. “Aww,” Bailey says with a fake pout, “Do you feel left out?” Bailey starts kissing all over Ezra’s face causing the little girl to giggle and try to get away. “No! Eww! Stop it!” Ezra yells as she gets out of Bailey’s hold and pretends to rub away the kiss in fake disgust. Bailey just rolls her eyes at her sisters action. “C’mon, let’s go see if Benson is awake. We’ll be right back Elle.” Bailey says over her shoulder as she and Ezra leave the room. Elle laid back on Bailey’s bed as she left the room, staring at the ceiling. All she could think about was how in love with the younger girl she was.

Her train of thought got cut off as a small body was laid on top of hers. Elle immediately moved her arms to hold him and make sure he didn’t fall off of her. “Hey buddy...” She said in a baby voice as Bailey laid down next to her and pulled her into her. Bailey let out a groan as Ezra jumped on top of her before snuggling up. “Alright... What do you want to watch?”

---

“Okay. No, I understand. Yeah, I figured as much. Thank you.” Derek says as he gets off the phone. “He’s been staring at those pictures all morning.” Elle states as she stares at Gideon who is staring at the drawings done by the murdered children. “well, I sure hope he sees a connection cause I’ve checked doctors, lawyers, travel agents, tutors, contract workers. I got nothing.” Derek says as Hotch walks by. “Why target those families?” Elle wonders still watching Gideon. “Well, to know that, we have to know how.” Hotch says as he sits down and continues looking at the file in his hands.

“ We know organized killers are often skilled workers with above-average intelligence. High birth status. And in most cases...male. In the workplace, he's socially confident. And with women...sexually confident. Every offense...is preplanned. Targeting the victim is almost as pleasurable as the actual kill. These guys, they're...they're meticulous. It's a compulsion. Everything has to have its proper place. They do exhaustive amounts of research on their victims. They watch their every move every last detail is observed. Everything has to be written ever so neatly in a book or possibly a journal. When the kids are comin' home from school. When daddy'll be home. Playtime. Suppertime. Bath time. Bedtime. Plan the work...work the plan. This is the way that he maintains control. It's also how he personalizes his target... So nothing's left to chance. Absolutely nothing... Is left out of place, ever. So he plans the work... And when he's good and ready, he works that plan. He takes great pride in his job. I think the workplace has to be the connection.” Derek says as they go over everything they have learned about the unsub.

Gideon walks out of the room he was in with two drawings in his hands. He holds both the pictures up side by side. “Both are by Emily, painted months apart.  This one...is full of color, life. The one I found at Emily's house has lines, dimensions. No color. I believe Emily was coerced to make this. It's a point of view. It is his point of view. This is where the killer stood, just watched the family.” Gideon says after having finally figured out the connection of the paintings to the case. Hotch drops a ring on the desk he was leaning on, letting it spins some before picking it up. “Each of the dead husbands was missing his wedding ring. This is the unsub’s trophy.”

---

Bailey and Elle sat on the edge of the cliff at their special place. Trying to soak up as much time as they could before Bailey had to leave in a few hours. “I can’t believe you’re leaving...” Elle state as she leans her head against Bailey’s shoulder. “We had everything planned out too...” She trails off, looking at the scenery in front of her. “Hey don’t speak like that...” Bailey says as she holds Elle’s face in her hands. “It’s just one school year apart and then we will go to college together like we planned.” Bailey states before she pauses. “Look, I’m going to make you a promise, okay?” Elle raised an eyebrow at Bailey skeptically, promises were a big thing for Bailey, she never broke them. Bailey lets go of Elle’s face and pulls a ring from her pocket. “No before you freak out, this is my dad’s ring.” Bailey says with a slight laugh as she watches Elle’s eyes get big before returning to normal. “Now, you know me and my dad are close... When I was 5 and he got sent on the first deployment I remember, I cried like a baby for weeks on end. It actually got so bad my mom had to take me out of school one time.” Bailey says with a smile as she stares down at the ring in her hand.

“When dad came back and heard about it, he got his ring modified.” Elle watches with slight confusion as Bailey slid the ring a certain way and it split in half. “And now, whenever he gets deployed, I get this half of the ring so I always have a piece of him with me.” Bailey continues her story as she puts the larger part of the ring on a chain. “It’s obviously too big to fit on my ringer so mom bought a chain to put it on.” Bailey says as she puts the chain around Elle’s neck and closes the clasp. “I asked my dad and he said it was okay for me to give my part to you so you know that I am always with you and thinking about you.” Bailey says as she gives Elle a goofy smile. Elle tries to cover her crying but lets a few tears slip. “Hey, it’s okay...” Bailey says as she pulls the girl she loves into a hug. “Senior year will be over before you know it and we’ll be back together again.”

---

The group all sits around the table in silence as Gideon stares into the box that Hotch had found in Karl Arnold’s office. Everyone’s heart dropping as Gideon lets the contents of the small box drop and 8 rings fall onto the table. Every sat in silence feeling remorse for whatever families had lost their life’s to Dr. Arnold. Elle takes a moment to look at each ring and feels herself get nauseous at the sight of one ring that looks a little different from the others. It can’t be... She thinks as she slowly reaches out, ignoring the looks from her friends, and grabs the ring that made her feel sick. She takes a minute to study the ring, her heart beating faster at how familiar it is. She can feel her friends and coworkers staring at her in confusion, wanting to know why she had picked up the ring.

Elle reach's into her shirt a little and pulls out a ring of her own. The group shares a confused look, wondering where the ring had came from and how long she had had it. Elle takes it off the chain and slides the two rings together like she had seen you do ten years ago. The clicking sound it made not only signifying the two rings becoming one but also her heart breaking into two. Elle looks up to see Hotch and Gideon looking at her with a worried face, it was obvious that Elle knew who that ring belonged to. Seeing her friends face’s filled with sorrow was enough for the dam to break and the tears to flow.

---

“Elle! Guess what!” Bailey yelled excitedly into the phone as Elle picked up. Elle laughed at her excitement. “What?” “I get to go on vacation tomorrow!”