#everyone has literally been changed by a death in the family and it's not always rational

[driftwoodthrone]

Ok, so that episode of Picard was a lot.

But I think the story they're trying to tell us is one about grief. It has always been about grief for Data. The first season of Picard underscored that, and we are getting the bigger picture of how each character has been changed by it. Data's sacrifice fractured this family, but it also told us that given the chance they would have each taken his place, and I think that's what they all grapple with when they return.

It makes total sense to me that Thad and Jack were born back-to-back after Data's death, and in that timeframe, none of these characters have processed their loss. In the aftermath, Picard threw himself into life-threatening situations that didn't inspire a lot of faith in Beverly, certainly when her whole life has been painted by loss and abandonment. Was she absolutely wrong for taking that choice away from him? Yes. I don't think Beverly thought herself big enough to ask Picard to drastically change his life to fit around her and this baby. But she could do it for Jack, she can give up everything to protect him. Grief doesn't always sound rational or feel right to other people.

The end of the episode shows us exactly why Picard's stand-your-ground and fight mentality frightens them all. For Troi and Riker and Beverly and I'm sure Geordi, the emotional stakes were too high after Data. When Thad got sick, Riker and Troi left Starfleet. When Beverly and Jack were being hunted they ran. It takes Picard seventeen seconds to get to sickbay and watch Beverly revive Jack to fully understand why a parent would grab their children and run when danger is knocking on their door. The Next Generation has always been a story about legacy, of course, they're going to tell one more for its title character. Just as the story has weaved through Alexander, Thad, and Kestra. Just as we know Dahj and Soji and Elnor. We will know Sydney and Alandra. Just as it has always been about Wesley. This too is about Jack Crusher. It has always been about family.

[donnatroyyyy]

Batman has/had some kind of miscommunication going on with every single one of his kids. The bat family is just one big miscommunication trope after the other.

[byfulcrums]

been rewatching rtte

toothless is called T multiple times, but the letter T doesn't exist in the alphabet of this world

i think hiccup was also called H???

hiccup went to the wedding of the man who tried to kill him and his family multiple times. no wonder he thought he could change drago's mind

snotlout is canonically a theater kid

"you're so small and cuddly" "please never say that again"

the twins are really smart, but they're also just stupid

hiccup straight up disappears when he's working on something

heather had a super noticeable crush on astrid

fishlegs got a love interest!! a plus size main character actually has a cool, badass love interest!

it was super hetnormative but it was cute

there was an island full of flying women who were implied to regularly commit cannibalism

hiccup taught all the riders how to fly with toothless, that's so sweet

everyone is a flat earther except for the twins

hiccup almost directly killed a lot of people

and killed a LOT more when destroying their ships

“scalding�� cal..ding--" "toothle, plama bla!" was pretty much the funniest part of the entire series

dagur was bullied as a kid by a guy 8 years older than him who literally tattooed an imagine of him beating up little dagur in his arm??? What was that all about

actually we need to talk about how messed up everything about dagur is and about how the things that could've/did happen(ed) to him may be the reasons why he's Like That

just why was he imprisoned by the outcasts??? he didn't do anything to them directly

oof my brain is spiraling. "he loved you" "ig now we'll never know" what do you mean he didn't know if his dad loved him

there's a technically musical episode

tuffnut became hiccup's defense attorney and immediately got him the death sentence

hiccup regularly jumps off cliffs

he also jumped off a boat, with his arms tied and without toothless. just where did he think he was going

snotlout's annoying attitude is actually because spitelout pressures him too much and he feels like he has to be perfect for his dad :((

THE 'HICCUP'S EVIL MIRROR' VILLAIN THEME DONE RIGHT YESS!!!

viggo is the best httyd villain change my mind (you can't, swords at sundown, you may bring backup but i will win on my own)

skrill comeback skrill comeback SKRILL COMEBACK!!!!

"COMEEE TO DADDY"

what is a boar pit???

oh my god i had missed this series so much. it has no right to be this funny

this was my childhood. it has forever shaped the way i am

berserker heather the unhinged >>>

actually good disability rep! yay

hiccup complains about his peg leg pinching him

he straight up cannot walk without it and it is shown many times

"well, there are the benefits of a metal leg" after it got caught in a bear trap

funny moments, like snotlout trying to steal it to use it as a weapon

the jokes!! toothless laughing at the jokes!!! hiccup being so fucking done with the twins, who are always making the jokes!

there's an episode where everyone is so sleep deprived they actually start spiraling

astrid becomes a happy go lucky girl, hugs snotlout and tells him he's handsome

the fucking mood swings snotlout got were insane

the twins were straight up just hallucinating

"i sent them to wash their dragons, how could they mess that up?" cut to heather falling on her face with a bucket full of water in her hands

fishlegs becomes so paranoid, he's yelling at everyone all the time

"don't you know the trapper's trap can trap the trapper?? ...oh gods, i must be losing it, i'm quoting dagur"

YOOOO VALKA!!!! it's so nice to see her

hiccup tried to murder dagur to stop him from getting to toothless, which is scary bc it shows just how far he's willing to go for his bff, but also funny because hiccup. that was not going to work

oh the hiccstrid slowburn, how i have missed you

the twins's made up language

there was a beach episode turned murder mystery and a musical episode held at gun point

hiccup has a whole little speech that he periodically gives astrid to remind her that the twins serve a purpose

[peachysunrize]

The other Woman ⥃ senator! Aemond Targaryen

Summary: you were supposed to be a secret, his temptation in the dark not his scandal after the taste of heaven you experienced together.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut smut, like literally so much smut, p in v, angst (so much angst), age gap (Aemond is 36 reader is 25. It’s not specified but since he’s a candidate he should be over 35), cheating & infidelity, heavy alcohol consumption (one scene), breeding, humiliation (a little bit), oral (f & m receiving ), rough sex, illicit affair, modern westerosi senator Aemond (doing this because I have no idea about real life election and political debates and how they take place and I can change it however I like), near death experience, car accident and driving while drunk, hurt/comfort, happy ending!! English isn’t my first language.

Word count: 8.58k+ (no beta we die like Beesburybury)

A/n: so, this thought was originally a very dark concept, but I changed it because now it’s much more interesting than the first one lol. Long, smutty, angst! The whole political idea is a sideline for the plot but it gives you an idea of what kind of Aemond we’re dealing with! Please reblog and comment and tell me your opinion!

A very special thank you to @namelesslosers for putting up with my crazy ideas<3😭💕

Every time you walk through this hallway, you ask yourself how you got into this situation. Perhaps it was at the first debate when you met him backstage; tall, dark, brooding, and quiet with a lazy smirk on his thin lips, as he pressed a gentle kiss atop your knuckles, side-eyeing your seething father in the process.

Maybe it was when you ran into him at another party, courtesy of being a senator's daughter and getting invited with high-class families. Your father had sent you there, “showing face” he explained, but you knew he wanted information. Aemond had danced around you that night, knowing exactly why you were there, talking and leading you on with conversations in the dark hallway of the mansion you were in.

It could have been the second debate as well. This time, it was not just backstage, but when he saw you in that denty dress you were wearing, he had cornered you and kept his heated gaze on your lips for a hot minute before he reached and pressed his thumb over your pillowy bottom lip.

Does it matter how it started? Certainly not, not when it’s been a good few months since this thing has been going on.

You stop in front of the hotel room; the only suite on the floor. Always cautious, always careful. You’ve been sneaking into this floor for weeks, entering the hotel from the back door to not be seen, taking the workers’ elevator and now, alone in the middle of this red carpeted floor, you ask yours again how you got yourself into this position. And the second you knock, all the worries and fears vanish.

Aemond opens the door, his cigarette burning between his long fingers as he gazes at you. His white shirt is untucked and unbuttoned, his dress pants already tightened by his bubbling desire for you while he waited for hours to get out of his speech and meet with you.

He doesn’t say anything, pulling you in with his free hand, kicking the door shut before he pushes you against it, leaning over you with his forearm on the door and the other on your hip.

“Rough day?” You ask, running your palms over the pale skin of his abs, caressing his chest and stomach as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Your father was unnerving today,” he rests his forehead on yours, breathing in your perfume, “I broke the pen when he started talking about how he’d do everything I wanted to do but better. Who makes a political debate like that? He can’t even stand for what he has planned to do.”

“He has the talent of getting under everyone’s skin, it doesn’t help that he’s a jealous man as well,” you cup his cheek, running the pad of your thumb over his high cheekbones.

“He does, a trait I’m sure I have seen in someone as well,” he bends down, prepping kisses over your cheek, “he told me I was too perfect to become a president. I have no fucking idea what he is after. He talks about me all the time instead of his plans, I think he’s obsessed with me.”

“Pity, I would have loved to see his face when he said that, knowing that the person he called perfect fucks his daughter every day,” you giggle when he bites down on your neck, making you hiss and thread your fingers through his long blonde hair.

“What were you doing if you weren't watching me beat your father to the pulp?” He keeps his assault on your neck, leaving marks and little swollen bites. He breaks away from your skin to take a drag of his cigarette, wrapping his thin pink lips around the paper edges as he inhales the smoke in, a deep hum drumming through his chest when he leans and presses his lips to yours, blowing the smoke into your eager mouth.

You pull him closer, lapping at his tongue while you inhale the burning smoke, moaning in protest when he breaks the kiss sooner than you wished for. You blow out the remaining smoke to his face, biting your bottom lip as you find his good eye taking every inch of you in with his blown and foggy pupil.

“I was buying pretty dresses for you,” you whisper against his lips before grabbing his hand and pulling him gently toward the bedroom, watching with hazy eyes as he inhales another pile of smoke, keeping his eye locked on the exposed skin of your shoulders.

He loves it when you wear dresses that leave your neck and shoulders bare; it’s tantalizing and alluring in the best way possible. They make him lose the tiny self-control he has and let go of his burdens and responsibilities. He likes how free you make him feel, younger and livelier.

“Hmm?” You giggle when he doesn’t realize what question you are responding to, already too drunk on your scent that has his mind in a mush.

“You asked what I was doing,” you guide him towards the bed, “I was shopping for your upcoming party, Mr. Senator. I have a public image to maintain.” “Yes, but not with flaunting yourself like a slut,” he hisses when you push him down on the mattress, and he takes his cigar and puts it out by pressing it on the ashtray atop his nightstand with a bit of difficulty.

“Don’t be mean, sir,” faking a pout, you unzip your dress slowly, knowing how possessive he can get even though you are not his in the eyes of the public, “it’s all for you anyway, I like to see your face when I come with my friends to your mansion, all dolled up just for you but no one can know.” “Ah yes, I often forget how much you enjoy being my mistress,” he says, licking his lips when you kick off your shoes and crawl onto his lap, his large warm palms coming up to rest on your bare hips.

“Don’t put all the blame on me, you said you’d never slept with your wife!” You push him on his back, grinning as you let your nails deep in his soft exposed skin, “You were the one who begged me to sleep with you anyway!”

“Hmm, and I’m glad that I did,” he smirks at you, pinching your hips, making you gasp, “now, I’ve had a very rough day with your father, be a good girl and take my mind off everything else that isn’t your sweet pussy.”

You nod obediently before starting to grind your clothed sex over the tent in his pants, moving your hips slowly but firmly, eliciting a deep groan from Aemond as he lies beneath you with his silver hair spread around his head like a shiny halo. You lean down, leaving kisses over his chest and abdomen as you slowly lower yourself on the floor, running your hands all over his thighs and slim waist, nuzzling your face into his crotch, and looking at him oh so sweetly when he sits up.

Aemond pushes your hair out of your face, running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip as he watches you prep kisses over the fabric of his pants, fingers fidgeting with his belt, and once you have successfully undid it, you pull it out of the loops and drop it on the floor.

He chuckles lowly when you grab his zipper with your teeth, pulling it down slowly while you stare into his eye — the blue of his iris is completely gone. You pull his pants down when he unbuttons them, lifting his hips in the process for you. Aemond sighs as soon as his cock is free from the confines of his pants, closing his eye as the cool air of the room hits his heated skin. 

“No underwear?” You tease him, reaching to hold his hot and twitching member in your hand, stroking it to full hardness while your free hand rubs soothing circles on his hip bone.

“The weather is too hot to wear anything under these horrendous dress pants,” he replies breathlessly when you lean down and start trailing kitten kisses from the base of his cock up to his tip, humming at the earthy and musky scent.

“And here I thought you were too desperate to give me easy access,” you mutter, taking his tip in your mouth, not letting him come up with a witty answer.

Aemond leans on his elbows, his hand finding its place on top of your head, not pushing down, but just to show you who’s in charge. His chest rises and falls rapidly when you swirl your tongue around him slowly, rubbing the tip of your tongue on the right places that you know make him weak and needy.

He groans, pushing your head down a little; a quick warning for you to remember that a dragon has no patience when the smell of fresh meat fills its senses.

You oblige, taking more of him in your mouth, relaxing your jaw, and guiding him further down your throat with both hands on the base of his cock, stroking what you can’t fit. He angles your face upwards, forcing you to look him in the eye as he fills your mouth and stretches your jaw with his girth.

“I will never get tired of this sight, fuck—” he throws his head back, his exhales getting sharper and deeper, “If only your father could see you like this; his daughter sucking off his enemy like it’s her last meal.”

You moan around him, brows twisted in a deep frown and eyes teary as he pushes you down, bobbing your head along his length at a pace he likes. In return, he rewards you with grunts and puffs of air that rumble through his chest and make you even more determined to bring him closer to his peak, but he pulls you off him as soon as he feels his dick twitching in your mouth, not wanting to come before he fucks you senseless.

You gasp for air when he pulls out, a string of saliva connecting your swollen lips to the head of his glistening cock. He pulls you up by your hair, smashing his lips into yours, pulling you in for a deep messy kiss as he helps you straddle him again. You sit with your knees on each side of his hips, cupping his face in the process while your lips move languidly, fiercely, and harshly. The kiss is full of clashes of teeth and molding of tongues and wetness, something you both enjoy deeply.

Aemond’s hands wander over your naked form, squeezing your buttocks and scratching the dip of your waist with his trimmed nails before he switches your position and lies you down on the bed without breaking off the kiss. Spreading your legs for him, he moves and makes home between them quickly, rubbing his leaking cock to your clothed pussy, growling inside your mouth in desperation.

You pull your lips away from his lips, mouth falling open immediately when he nuzzles his face into your neck and starts sucking and biting on your flesh like a rabid dog, not letting go of your skin until he’s sure there are big and small blue and violet marks littered all over you.

“Fuck, Aemond just—ah!” You whimper when his long fingers rub over the wet patch on your panties, pressing and moving them up and down until you buck your hips to his hand, searching for more stimulation that he is depriving you of.

“Tsk tsk, use your words, darling,” he says, sinking his teeth into your earlobe while he moves your panties to the side, hovering his thumb over the hood of your clit, “how can I give into your every whim when you can’t speak up for you so?” He sounds disappointed, and it only brings tears to your eyes — more tears, considering he had you near crying when he was fucking your face.

“Please, I-I need…” you are cut off by a sharp gasp leaving your lips as Aemond’s thumb rubs around your puffy clit, not giving into your sweet whines and whimpers, not even caring how tempting they sound. 

“Sweet girl, come on, tell me, do you want me to play with your pretty cunt? Hmm?” He asks in a serious tone, too serious for your liking, because when you look up at him with pouting and watery eyes, he tsks again, and you can feel the heat of his thumb near where you need him the most, but his finger is too far away.

“Yes, yes, please—“

“There is my good girl,” he kisses your tears away, finally caving in and giving you what you need, circling over your buzzing nerves gently but slowly, just the right way to have your mind shutting off to the point of the only thought that is left is him and his magical fingers.

You buck beneath him, wrapping one arm around his shoulder and the other one grabbing his waist as he keeps his thumb pressed firmly into your clit, pressing kisses all over your tear-stained cheeks.

“Mmm, tastes so sweet, darling,” he whispers as he licks your tears, pushing a finger inside you as if testing the waters before adding another, scissoring your open for his cock slowly, thrusting them in and out faster than before.

“Aemond, please, I’ve been good!” 

Your voice awakens something in him, something primal and hungry, ready to devour you whole. He groans in response, leaning down to kiss you feverishly, retrieving his fingers from you only to replace them with the tip of his cock, running it up and down against your drenched folds before pressing in slowly.

He pulls away from your lips, giving both of you time to catch your breath and relax as he carves his way within your gummy walls. You both moan in delight as he finally reaches your deepest parts, his hips flush against yours as the two of you try to catch your breath.

Aemond slowly draws his hips back before driving himself forward, knocking the breath out of your lungs as he gains speed. You fist the bedsheets, back arching in response to him hitting your sweet spot rapidly, drawing ragged breaths and little yelps of pleasure from your parted lips.

“So beautiful, fuck, darling,” he groans into your skin, straightening his back a little to hover his face over yours to look at you from a better angle, “I would set this town on fire for you.” “Aemond, I-I’m close—” You gasp when his finger travels down your stomach and reaches the bundle of nerves and starts rubbing it quickly, drawing you closer to your breaking point. 

He isn’t in a better situation either; he is panting with his cock twitching deep inside you as his desire for you overflows his senses. 

His rhythm falters as soon as you clamp around him tightly, gushing around him with a shout of his name, which sends him over the edge as well. He pulls out instantly, ignoring the your whine in protest before he sits on his knees next to your head, stroking his cock with his head thrown back.

“Open your mouth, darling—fuck, there she is, good girl…” he groans when you close your eyes and stick out your tongue, catching the ropes of his cum on your face and tongue. He whimpers out your name, his shoulders relaxing finally, tension leaving his body as he empties himself on you.

“Messy girl,” he taunts you, reaching to pull a napkin out of the nightstand’s drawer, lying down next to you to wipe his cum off your face gently, his other hand caressing your bare stomach and breasts to soothe you through the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“You made a mess out of me, baby,” you say, smiling softly when he leans down to peck your lips after dropping the napkin back in its place, pushing his pants and shirt fully off to join you under the covers.

“Aemond?” you call him, laying your head on his chest when he pulls you closer, “I’m tired of this.”

“This? What do you mean?” he asks, his fingers tracing meaningless patterns on your back while he waits for you to answer him.

“This game of cat and mouse, always sneaking in, my father this my father that… I’m tired of being just a secret.” “You knew what you were getting yourself in when we first slept with each other,” Aemond huffs, “It’ll always be like this, darling. We would have to spend our days away from everyone.” “But Aemond, we can go on dates in so many ways! Please, we can go on a trip to Lys, no one knows you there, and we will leave all of this election and your political worries in King’s Landing!” You try to reason with him, turning around in his arms to look into his eye.

“Sweet girl, he reaches to push a strand of your hair behind your ear, “There is not much time left until the—”

“— election, I know. But you can spare three days to stay with me. Don’t you think it’s worth it?”

“Our lives and future will be ruined if we get caught. It will cause a huge scandal that I and my team are not ready to face. I might become the next president of Westeros, I need to win over your father.” He explains logically, and you feel stupid for mentioning the idea of going out and being seen in public with him.

“I’m sorry, I know… it was a dumb idea.” you avert your eyes away from him, biting your bottom lip as guilt and shame fills you. “Hey, look at me,” he gently switches positions so you lay beneath him again, “I wish we could go on dates and I had the chance to show you off. Maybe after all of this mess, I’ll be able to divorce my wife, but till then…  As long as I have you in my arms, nothing matters.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••

The days pass quickly. You watch your father and Aemond in the news, paparazzi following you and your family around the city bombarding you with questions about things you didn’t care about. Until one day, your father receives an invitation from Aemond Targaryen himself for a party at his house.

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when your father called you and asked — more like demanding — that you should be the one attending this party. After all, he couldn’t put himself past that hatred to go to this party in his rival’s house. Apparently, his daughter could though, as if it wasn’t dangerous to send you to the dragon’s cave with no support.

You agreed a bit too eagerly, trying to play it off cool and keep calm while you panicked from inside. You’d be saying Aemond again, publicly, without sneaking from a back door, or a secret passageway. 

Choosing a dress wasn’t difficult when you had the design of one of Aemond’s mom’s dresses; a knee-length dress in light blue and off-shoulder with a little cut that exposed your lower thigh, knowing how crazy Aemond would get if he saw you in things he has bought for you.

Your curls fall around your shoulders as you walk toward the main entrance of the mansion, catching the attention of all the photographers and guests. You walk up the stairs that lead to the house, eyes searching for the silhouette of the only person you care for in this messy crowd.

You find him easily; his long hair shines underneath the dim light of the hall, and his tall frame and the champagne in his hands stand proudly among the people who look so simple and boring compared to him.

He is wearing a long deep blue coat with thin silver embroideries on it with a black shirt and pants, and next to him… you just catch the eyes of his wife, Floris Baratheon-Targaryen, who is smiling proudly at the ladies and gentlemen surrounding them.

“Ah, love, look who’s here,” she threads her fingers through Aemond’s, excusing themselves as the pair come to greet you. Floris is beautiful with long black hair and a charming smile — no wonder she is Aemond’s wife, the perfect image of a dutiful wife, “It’s such a pleasure to have you here.”

You accept her hand, shaking it gently before you avert your eyes from her to her husband, locking your eyes with his as you try not to let him see any emotion on your face. You are ashamed of yourself, Floris looks like a kind soul, and you have been having an affair with her husband for months, but even now that you have met her, the guilt and shame are not enough for you to step away from what you have with Aemond.

“How is your father? Not too sour I hope,” he smirks, wrapping an arm around Floris’ waist as he has always done with you in the confines of his hotel room.

“Why would he be sour, Mr. Targaryen? Last time I checked the numbers were quite against your favor,” you reply, thanking the waiter who brings you a glass of champagne, “He made sure I show you his gratitude for the invitation. He was horribly upset for not being able to join us tonight.”

“Well, yes,” he chuckles darkly and you can see how his fingers clench the fabric of Floris’ dress, “He is a busy man, he should be thinking of a backup plan after he loses to me.”

“Is that what you are doing, sir? I assume this party…is your way of gaining support now, isn’t it?”

“Aemond,” his wife utters, smiling hesitantly at him, “maybe you should show our new gallery to her, politics can be a hard topic to talk about in such a noisy place.” “Splendid idea, wife,” Aemond kisses Floris’ forehead while his eye is solely focused on you, “Shall we, Miss?” he offers you his arm, looking around the room to see if anyone is paying attention to you or not.

“I would love to,” you say through gritted teeth, an ugly jealousy bubbling inside you as you loop your arm with his, walking side by side to the new gallery. You shouldn’t be feeling like this, it is not your place to have complicated emotions when you are the other woman.

“After you,” he holds the door open for you, his eye scanning you from head to toe, catching the sight of his mother’s designer dress before he leads you inside the gallery, closing the door shut and locking it from inside.

“Didn’t know you were into art, Aemond. It’s a welcoming surprise,” you say, sipping on your drink while you walk past him, not sparing him a glass as you look at the paintings.”

“You need to work on your emotions, darling,” he says, putting his champagne glass on the nearest table he can find before he makes his way to you, “We wouldn’t want everyone to find out how close we actually are.” “No, Aemond, you don’t want that,” you chuckle in disbelief, drinking the rest of the remaining liquor in your glass before you put it on the same table as he did, standing in front of him with a burning rage inside your eyes, “I want them to know! I’m sick of this, I don’t deserve to be a whore for you in secret!”

“This was what we agreed on!” his voice echoes in the room as he grabs you by the nape of your hair, bringing your face closer to his, “whore or not, I can't bear to lose the elections I have been working my whole life for! And I can’t… I can’t lose you either—” You both turn around when a loud banging sound comes from the other side of the room. You look at Aemond in terror, stepping closer to him before you hear the door at the end of the hall is pushed open. He grabs your hand and pulls you toward a narrow and dark hallway that is attached to the gallery. You have a clear view of the paintings and the waiters who are carrying several drinks together, luckily, it can’t be said for them. They would need to round the corner and bend down a little to find this place. Aemond pushes you against the wall, his large palm covering your mouth as footsteps grow quieter when they leave the gallery.

“Aemo—mmh!” he doesn’t let you finish as he silences you with his mouth engulfing yours in a passionate kiss, his fingers clutching your hips like his life depends on touching you, breathing in your scent, and tasting your lipstick.

“Shh, be quiet,” he turns you around, pressing his chest to your back before he reaches down to pull your dress up to your hips, mouthing at your neck as his hand finds the hem of your underwear.

“We shouldn’t do it here, Aemond, we might get caught!” you hiss at him, gasping when he pushes your panties to the side, running the pad of his fingers along your slit, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your face.

“I thought you wanted everyone to know about us, hmm?” He teases you, letting go of your wet folds for a second as he unbuckles his belt, unzips, and pushes his pants down enough to pull his cock out.

“Not like this!” You sigh desperately, hands bracing your weight on the wall when he lines his leaking tip with your entrance, thrusting his full length inside you with ease.

He slaps his hand on your mouth again when he is completely sheathed inside your warm and dripping cunt, muffling your noises as best as he can before he starts thrusting into you with abandon.

In his mind, you look too beautiful, too gorgeous and breathtaking, and the longer he looks at you, the more passionate he is about driving his cock inside you, fucking you with all his love and adoration.

“You make me go fucking crazy,” he nearly growls, his hips pistoning against yours as he nuzzles his nose into your cheek, eye closed and cheeks painted pink. He pushes two of his fingers inside your mouth, his own lips parted as ragged breaths and throaty groans fall from them. 

You are a mess just as he is; eyes closed, hips moving with each of his abandoned and reckless thrusts, while your body floats in pleasure. It’s quick, sudden, and mind wrecking; you come with a muffled scream around his thick fingers, and he follows you as soon as your walls tighten around him, squeezing the cum out of his cock.

He presses you to the wall, groaning and panting as he fills you to the brim, his teeth catching your earlobe while he tries to ground himself with all the euphoria running through his veins.

“Aemond,” you pull his digits out of your mouth, resting your head on his shoulders as the two of you try to regain your breaths, heartbeat slowly dropping back to normal.

“Lys…” he says, and you crane your neck to look at him in confusion, “Pack your bag for a few days.”

“What?” You ask, eyes wide and hopeful as you stare at him, he grins in response, planting a sweet kiss on your lips, “We’re going to Lys.”

“Are you serious?” 

“Deadly,” He winks at you and pulls his softened cock out of you slowly before he makes himself presentable again, his hands finding their place on your hips once again, “now, don’t sulk anymore. You’re too lovely to be upset because of me.”

“I was not sulking, but… but what about the paparazzi? The election? Are you sure?” You shake a little, maybe both in fear and excitement before you cup his face, staring into his ocean-blue eye.

“Shh, don’t fret, I have thought about everything. No one knows who we are and we’ll stay in a yacht. I have talked to Cole to get it ready for us.”

“You… you are amazing, Aemond!” You crash your lips to him, pressing several kisses to his face, leaving careless red marks on his pale skin.

“Anything for my girl,” he whispers against your lips, chuckling as you keep your assault on his face, “but we should head back to the party. I’m sure they’re looking for me.”

“Yes, yes, of course!” I laugh a little before fixing your hair and sneaking out of your hiding place.

“I’ll meet you outside, alright, sweet girl?” He asks you, pecking your lips before pointing to one of the paintings to make it seem you are still busy looking at the new art hanging on the wall while he unlocks and moves out of the room.

Floris finds him instantly, moving towards him with a man who follows her as well, eager to meet him. Aemond clears his throat when they reach the door of the gallery, pulling him into a conversation he has no choice but to join.

Oblivious to him, his wife’s eyes catch the faint red lipstick stain under his jaw.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

If you were told that this country was this beautiful, you would’ve never believed them. Everything is brighter in color, people have no clue who you are which makes everything much more exciting.

You’ve been in Lys for two days already, fucking on every surface of the yacht, quickies in different places around the city, sightseeing, and spending time together.

It was all you’ve ever wanted from this relationship; some peaceful alone time as a couple, not as a secret.

There is a weird feeling of being watched by someone that has been with you since you stepped inside the city as if someone is following you around. At first, you thought it could be a photographer who somehow caught sight of you and decided to make money out of it. But again, no one knows who either you or Aemond is…

You don’t pay attention to it, but the feeling is still with you as soon as you step on the deck of the yacht, your sundress moving with the wind as you gaze over the sea.

“Not very thoughtful of you to leave me all alone in the bed,” Aemond says, walking towards you with his hands in his pockets, “I missed you already.”

“That’s good to know because I’ve missed you too,” you turn around, moving to the cushions that are secured to the deck before lying down on them, stretching yourself as he stands tall above you, “more so your mouth.”

“Insatiable beast,” he calls you, “what have I done to deserve you?” He drops on his knees and crawls towards you, a wicked grin on his face as he reaches your ankle, grabbing and pulling you towards him with ease.

“Your mouth is a miracle, I’ve been blessed to witness it with my own eyes,” you match his tone, spreading your legs for him.

As soon as his eye falls on your bare pussy, he lets out a long sigh in delight before latching his mouth to the flesh of your thighs, kissing and nibbling as he makes his way up to your center, flattening his lavish tongue against your folds, licking a fat stripe of your wetness before humming and kissing your clit.

You lay back, letting him take care of you slowly, building your pleasure until you break under his touch. He starts with slow licks and kisses, making lews sounds as he gains his speed, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs while he keeps you in place.

Throwing your head back, you moan his name, fingers tangling themselves in his soft silky hair as he speeds up and shoves his face further between your thighs, his large nose nudging your clit in the best way possible.

You open your eyes and look around; the view is mesmerizing. Next to where you are is a huge wood that separates the city from Aemond’s private dock, yet the greens of the trees don’t catch your attention but a sudden flash of light does. It happens again, this time a bit faster, a bit closer. It could be anything, maybe a reflection of light, and you desperately hope that is the case and the flash doesn’t belong to a camera.

Luckily, Aemond’s tongue distracts you from your thoughts, and you arch your back when his thumb joins the patterns he is drawing on your nerves. You look down at him, catching the raw emotions that dance in his eye; adoration, love if you dare say. Soon, when he makes you come, all the thoughts of those mysterious flashes are gone, and only pleasure is left for you to focus on — the knot he created, snaps, and ecstasy rushes in your blood.

“Baby,” you pull him up, chest heaving with delight as your legs stop shaking, “I think I saw someone.”

“No one is allowed here, don’t worry, sweet girl,” he says between kisses on your chest as he makes his way up your stomach to kiss you.

“But it looked like a camera flash,” You kiss him back slowly, lying on your side to face him, “Are you sure no one can go past your guards?” “Yes, please, don’t think about it. It’s just you and me, darling.”

Oh, how wrong he was.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

It’s been twenty days since the last time you heard his voice, twenty days of agony and pain. You were caught, you did not imagine things. The day you arrived at King’s Landing, you saw the news; your pictures from your trip with him were all over the internet, the moment on the night, the kissing in the sea, wandering in the city — your illicit affair was publicized. By whom you have no idea. Maybe Aemond’s wife, maybe your father, but at the end of the day, nothing hurt more than when after days of trying to contact your lover, he broke everything off with a single text from his assistant. 

After that, your parents cast you aside; your mom screamed at you while your father cheered in victory. After all, those pictures caused a huge scandal and rift in his rival’s team. He didn’t care what would happen to you as long as you didn’t do anything like this again that would result in his downfall. They closed your bank accounts that they had access to and left you alone on your own. Fortunately, you weren’t too dependent on your father’s money and had persued a career to pay for your necessities, but now, none of it mattered.

Your days pass numbly with hundreds of calls and texts to Aemond. There is nothing left inside you willing to get up and do something, to fix this mess even a little, to pull yourself out of this deep hole you have dug with your hands. 

You read the text again as you curl on the loveseat, sobbing and clutching your phone to your chest. Mr. Taragryen has no interest in being involved with you anymore, and the more you read it, the more your body ache for him. It feels like a knife being shoved inside your chest, twisting and ripping your lungs in the process while you melt under the sharpness of it, taking it because you have no choice left but to do so.

You did it to yourself; what were you thinking? How did you ever think that getting involved with an important man was a good idea? A married and much older one at that. Now you scroll through the leaked pictures with a heavy heart and silent tears running down your face. The headlines are cruel, far worse than you had ever thought about.

Whore of a daughter wins the election for the father!

Aemond Targaryen cheats on his wife with his rival’s daughter; several intimate pictures have been caught during their visit to Lys…

Aemond Targaryen, an honorable man seduced by a younger girl, WESTEROSI reports…

You throw your phone on the floor, nearly falling from the loveseat from how aggressively you move. You want to scream from the top of your lungs, to curse and shout, but it was your idea to go somewhere, for him to take you on a date. It is all your fault.

The doorbell rings and startles you. You get up immediately, thinking it must be your parents or one of your friends to come and check up on you, but when you open the door with bloodshot eyes and find Aemond standing there, your knees nearly give out.

“A-Aemond?” you stutter, eyes watering at the sight of his messy clothes and hair — he looks just as fucked up as you.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” with one step, his arms engulf you in a tight embrace, and you cry. Fat ugly tears run down your face as he holds you close, his own tears falling after days of being apart from you. He couldn't stay away, he had to come and see you. Every day without you felt like a lifetime, never-ending torture he had to endure while Criston and his mother did everything they could to save his public image, and Floris, well, she was quite content with everything.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you…” he presses several kisses to the crown of your head, holding you incredibly close to him as he leads you back into your house, shutting the door behind him. You have your arms wrapped around him, holding onto his shoulders as he sits you down on the couch, making sure to pull you into his lap so you won’t feel alone again.

“Aemond?” you ask, your voice so little, so fragile that it breaks his heart into million pieces.

“Yes, darling?” he lifts your head, his thumb wiping your tears gently while he shushes you, watching your lips tremble in disbelief, “Tell me, tell me what I can do to make you feel better.”

“Why did you let go of me so easily?” you ask, fiddling with the collar of his shirt, “I was so alone, I-I am alone, I have no one! How could you—” you hiccup, a sob wrecking your body as you talk.

“I had to, sweet girl, I had to. My public image, my campaign, everything was near destruction if it weren’t for the distance between us. I had to do it.”

“I lost everything, Aemond! My parents, my friends… I was called a whore, your mistress, a side chick. You nearly lost everything, I did lose everything!” you gasp for air as another wave of pain spreads in your chest.

“What can I do for you, darling? I’m here now, I’ll do whatever you wish for me to do, please,” he begs, the first and probably the last time you’ll hear Aemond Targaryen plead for something.

“I love you, Aemond, please make the pain go away.”

He leans down, capturing your mouth in a slow kiss, painting his devotion on the canvas of your lips as he moves them together. He feels you relax in his arms when you start kissing him back. He lies you on the couch gently, never breaking the kiss as he sucks the breath out of your lungs with each passing second that e tastes you.

You melt under his touch, the fingers you adore so much move along the length of your body. His lips let go of yours for a second before he hovers atop you completely and brings you in for another deep kiss. His fingers are cold against your heated skin as they move your shirt upward, to eventually pull the fabric off your head. 

He breaks the kiss to trail his lips to your neck, leaving butterfly kisses all over your jaw and collarbones as he moves lower until he reaches your bra. He circles his hand to unhook it, and he does, he pushes the strap on one of your shoulders down slowly before he stops.

Aemond stops.

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach as he moves his face away from your shoulder to kiss you fiercely for a hot few seconds before he pulls away, shaking his head in shame.

“Ae-Aemond, why did you…” “No…” he says, a few tears fall from his remaining eye as he gazes at you past his wet lashes, “I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean?” your voice quivers, and Aemond stands up immediately when he hears how broken you sound, leaving you half-naked on your couch, “Aemond, please!”

“I can’t make the same mistake twice,” he mutters as he moves toward the entrance door, “I still have a chance. I can win the election, I can—” “A mistake? Do you truly feel we were a mistake?”

“I am sure we were. We have ruined our lives for what? For sex, for lust?”

“For love!” you scream, holding your hand to your chest to prevent your bra from falling, “I didn’t want anything from you; not your money, not any status, I wanted you, just you.” 

“I can’t do this—”

“Aemond, please, no!” You cry out running to block his way, “Don’t go, please, don’t leave me again. I can’t take it if you leave me all alone, I have lost everything for you! Please, please—”

He cups your cheek, pressing one last lingering kiss while his own tears fall on your cheek, “Goodbye.” He moves past you and leaves.

“NO!” you break down and fall on your knees, and for once in your life, you feel truly helpless.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

You don’t remember how long has it been since that day; it could be a few days, or months. You don’t even remember how you got into this dingy dirty bar close to your place. It’s dark and gloomy with a heavy rain thrumming outside the window while you drown your sixth shot of bourbon. 

You are not an alcoholic, in fact, the only time you drink is at parties and formal events. Tonight though, you need to let go and unwind for a bit and unfortunately, in a very apathetic mood, you decided that drinking was the best option. 

The lovely bartender glares at you when you ask for another shot but doesn’t say anything and does as you ask, keeping a close eye on you to make sure you’ll be alright.

You keep staring at the rim of your glass, eyes filled with tears and sorrow until someone slides into the stool next to you. Looking up, you see a familiar face, Aemond’s wife. What is she doing here? Does she want to taunt you even more? To make sure you are suffering far worse than she did? “I see you are adapting well to the new changes,” Floris says, pointing at the bartender to pour her whatever you are drinking.

“Are you following me now?” you scoff, drowning the amber liquid in your glass, “Wasn’t my public humiliation enough for you?”

“You were fucking my husband, of course, it will never be enough. You should suffer for how you ruined his reputation,” she looks at you, waiting for you to come up with a witty reply.

“He said you never slept with each other…” You whisper in response, “He loved me.” “How fucking naive you are. He never loved you, he lied to your face and you still defend him,” she sneers, running a hand through her wild black curls, “He used you, it was all a part of his plans. You were just a pawn in his game.”

“He didn’t… he-he…” you take a deep breath, not wanting to cry in front of Floris of all people. He didn’t do these things, Aemond would never do that to you. He has no reason to, or does he?

“Do you truly think these numbers just go up and down because of the citizens? Aemond changed them to his liking, he has never had the intention of winning this year. He wants to be remembered so he may come back stronger than before and take over Westeros—”

“You don’t make any fucking sense! Leave me alone,” You stand up to move away from her, but she grabs your arms before you have the chance to run away.

“He used you to gain information from your father’s campaign! I just helped him speed things up by hiring those photographers,” 

“It was you… you ruined my life,” you pull your hand out of her grip, “You destroyed everything he has worked so hard for! How could you do this to your husband?” “He was cheating on me!”

“So were you! You were cheating too!” you yell at her before grabbing your purse and running out of the bar, crying hysterically. Nothing makes sense, you don’t know how you held that conversation for so long. What she said or what you replied repeats in your head, but it’s all a blur, a mess of words and echoes of high-pitched screams.

You reach your car, stumbling on your feet as you get in with some difficulty. Driving while awfully drunk is not a good decision, but you must get away from Floris, the bar, and everyone. Firing the engine, you pull the car out of the park, driving past the speed limit into the alley without looking around you.

You can’t see, you can’t hear, and all you can do is speed up while heavy tears fall from your eyes once more as you think about everything you shared with Aemond. Was any of it real? Were you a silly fling for him to gain information?

Suddenly, the sound of a horn catches your attention, and you see the light of another car coming your way. You try to break, but every time you press the pedal, the car doesn’t stop. Each time you fail, and you realize too late that you’ll either crash into the other car or you try to do something. 

But time isn’t always on your side, and the last thing you see before blacking out is how your car hits the tree and the airbags open.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Aemond bolts through hospital doors, repeating your name until someone pays attention and shows him the way to the ER. As soon as he reaches the end of the hallway, the doctor steps out and tries to calm him.

“How is she? What happened?”

“Calm down, sir, she’s alright—“

“I need to see her, please, let me go inside—“

The doctor declines, grabbing Aemond’s shoulders when he tries to step inside the room, “She’s under anesthesia, she probably won’t be up until noon. She has lost so much blood, two broken ribs, and a minor head trauma. She’s lucky she’s alive.”

The doctor leaves him alone, and Aemond slides down on the hospital floor, resting his head on the wall as he thinks about how terrible you must have felt when he left without any further explanation.

He cries softly, shoulders shaking with each sob that shocks his body. He’s not known to be a vulnerable person, but ever since you came into his life, he’s been changing; a bit softer around the edges of his heart, he smiles more, he relaxes more often than not, and he’s been much happier. But now, the thought of you going through such a horrible thing while he was away sleeping in his bed makes him hate himself even more for what he put you through.

He totally forgets about the elections that are taking place today, he can’t care less about what would happen, it means nothing when he can’t have you next to him. He declines every call from his mom and assistant, only sending a text to say he won’t return for the day.

His heart pops out of his chest when he sees the nurses pushing your bed towards one of the rooms.

“How is she?” He asks, looking down at your unconscious body. How beautiful you look even with bruises and wounds over your face.

“She’ll be fine, sir,” one of the nurses says, “all she needs is rest and good company.”

“When will she wake up?” He swallows, watching them closely while they hang your serums and connect different tubes.

“Hopefully in a few hours. Her body has experienced too much trauma and she should take as much rest as she can.”

He nods in agreement, waiting for them to leave before h breaks down, reaching to hold your sofy hand in his, kissing all over your knuckles and fingers, whispering praises of how he’ll cherish you and won’t leave you ever, he won’t put you through what he did again. He falls asleep with your hands in his, dried tears adoring his high cheekbones. He feels a soft hand reaching to wipe the remaining wetness, leaving soft caresses over his skin.

He opens his eye, finding you smiling softly at him as best as you can while fighting the pain. He sniffles and presses his lips desperately to the back of your hand, thanking the Seven for bringing you back to him.

“Hey,”

“Shh, please, don’t talk. You need to rest,” he reaches to push your hair out of your forehead, letting his fingers linger on your face for a little while before he holds your hand again, “what happened?”

“Well…” you cough, wincing in discomfort and pain before you continue, “I got drunk and…your wife came. We argued, she said some…nasty things about you…”

“What did she say, sweet girl?” He asks hesitantly, keeping his lips locked to your hand, “Don’t push yourself too much. If it bothers you—“

“She sent the photographers,” you sigh, closing your eyes for a moment, “she confessed it herself. She sent them because she wanted to help you. She said you didn’t want to win the elections, that you…you just used me to gain information on my father’s doings.”

“I would never do that, love, I would kill myself rather than ever thinking about hurting you.”

“But you did, Aemond. You hurt me when you left me at my house like garbage needed to be dumped. I was so alone, everyone left me, why does everyone leave me?” You ask, teardrops streaming down your cheeks.

“I will never leave you again, I’d never make the same mistake twice.” He reaches to wipe your tears gently, minding your injuries.

“You called our relationship a mistake too, Aemond…”

“I was angry at myself for not protecting us, for not filing the divorce papers sooner!” He says, desperation dripping from his words like honey, “I needed to step away, to convince Floris to be done with this marriage. I’ll be yours forever in a few days.”

“You… you’re getting a divorce? You just lost the election and-and you’re… how are you not freaking out, Aemond?”

“Because none of these matter as long as you’re with me. You brighten up my world, sweet girl. My life orbits around your smile and I can’t… I can’t let go of you again.”

“I won’t be your affair anymore, n-not your other woman…”

“No, sweet girl, you’ll be my only woman.”

[fairytalelover33]

One thing that will never cease to amaze me is how OVERLOOKED VI’S TRAUMA IS IN ARCANE.

Maybe it’s just the oldest daughter in me talking; But the trend I most often see in Arcane posts, rants and such, is a back and forth over Caitlin and Jinx. Who’s in the right between the two, who’s justified, who has more of a reason to grieve over their dead parent.

Vi is almost NEVER talked about when it comes to who has the right. And that is SO oldest sister of her.

She was the one old enough to properly understand what happened when their parents got killed.

She was the token older sister, always prepared to defend and take the fall for her younger siblings, hell, she was even prepared to get arrested or God knows what to protect Powder, Milo and Claggor at the age of what, 14-16?

She DID get arrested, and she was in there for about 7 years, in the darkest, dampest place she could possibly be, without sunlight, or fresh air, or ANY idea on if she would ever get out, her only hope and reason for pushing on STILL being her younger sister who also accidentally killed their entire family. WHO VI STILL LOVES AND WANTS TO PROTECT DESPITE THE FACT. And we also learn that Vi was definitely physically abused while she was stuck in that cell, (the look on her face when she hears that clunking coming down the hall proves it wasn’t an every once in a while thing.) She was literally forced to grieve alone, in the worst place imaginable, with no one to help her.

She is consistently shown blaming herself for the decisions of other people, because the over-pressured sister and daughter in her will definitely never fully grasp the fact that ITS NOT HER FAULT.

She had to come to terms with the fact that her little sister had chosen to work for and bond with the man that was responsible for the death of their father figure, and even then, after hearing the things Jinx had done, the ways she’d changed, Vi STILL tried to love her, to save her.

She was faced with a choice between her sister, and her (basically) girlfriend, and no matter how much you defend Jinx, or how much trauma she went through, or her lack of emotional maturity, none of that takes away from the pure terror of watching your sister point a gun in the face of someone you love, trying to make you ‘choose’. And then in the same moment, watching your girlfriend point a gun at your sister? Constantly being stuck in the middle of everyone you love?

Almost everyone she has ever loved either died, or completely turned on her, becoming a different person, or just straight up abandoning her.

The difference between her and the other trauma filled children of this series is that she’s not easy to pity like everyone else. She’s actually strong, and hasn’t completely lost her morals or snapped, even after everything she’s been through, so people don’t sympathize with her. She’s the token older sister, overlooked, over relied on, and villainized when she shows any sliver of fragile humanity.

(SORRY FOR MY VI RANT I JUST NEEDED TO GET THAT OUT 😔✊)

[gayferrari]

can you share about the interview with jules bianchi's dad and what he says?

It was an interview with La Gazzetta dello Sport, the article is paywalled. I started typing up a tldr but I couldn't do it justice with a summary so here's a full translation. It goes into some details about Jules's crash and the aftermath, so broad cws for that, but there's a lot more. He talks about their foundation, about Jules as a kid, and a bit about the Leclercs. The second half is very sweet

Note: I translated literally. Italian as a language can be more flowery than English, so if some sections feel a bit melodramatic in English, that's why; I'd rather sound a bit off than take creative liberties with the content

Q: Where were you on the day of your son's accident?

“I was home, watching the race on TV. The day before Jules had told me that the race would probably not go ahead because of bad weather conditions, but when I woke up on Sunday I saw that they had decided to race anyway. I saw the crash live but from the broadcast, it wasn't clear what had happened. But I couldn't see Jules, I didn't understand where he was. When I saw that one of the marshalls was holding a piece of the car that had crashed, and it was a piece of my son's car, I understood that something tragic had happened.”

Q: Did you leave for Japan right away?

“I tried to phone everyone, but nobody would pick up. After half an hour Nicolas Todt, Jules's manager, called me and asked me to come. He said: ‘You have to come here, he might not make it’, so Jules's mother and I left immediately for Suzuka”.

Q: Did you understand immediately how serious it was?

 “At first we hoped for a miracle. When we saw him, he was handsome, he hardly had any marks, he looked like he was asleep. He was always a strong boy, somebody who never quit, so at first we thought he could recover.”

Q: Then the months passed... 

 “He was moved to Nice and every day we told him to fight, to stay with us, to hold on and recover. At some point, though, we understood that even if he woke up, it wouldn't be easy: the doctors told us that he would probably remain paralysed, blind, and many other things. One day, even we stopped asking him to fight and started to reassure him [instead], we said: 'Alright Jules, you can go, don't worry because we will see you again' and eventually he left us.”

Q: Has Jules's accident truly changed the safety standards in F1, do you think?

 “Yes, I am sure of that. One of the things that gave [the most] strength to our family after such a tragedy was knowing that Jules didn't die for nothing. Nowadays in F1 the safety car is called much more often, after Jules's passing the virtual safety car was introduced, and often there are red flags in situations where it would never have been called before. Moreover, the halo was added to the cars, a protection that has already saved many lives, I am sure. This gives us some peace.”

Q: Ten years after the crash, where do you find this strength?

“In the knowledge that no one wanted Jules’s death. It is true that mistakes were made, but that is life, and nothing would give me back my son regardless. When we go to races or when we organise events for our foundation, we feel the fondness that people have for us and Jules, and it’s what makes us go on. The past cannot be changed.”

Q: What does the Jules Bianchi Foundation do?

“We raise funds for the hospital in Nice where Jules was hospitalised for many months [the CHU — Centre Hospitalier Universitaire de Nice]. With the money we raise, we buy treatment equipment and instruments, we try to do something useful. When his commitments allow him to come, Charles (Leclerc) never misses an event, he does it to be with us and help us raise funds”.

Q: You and Leclerc have a very strong relationship. Where does it come from?

“Charles’s dad Hervé was my best friend. We were always together and I was the one to put Charles on a kart for the first time: he was very small and pretended to be sick to skip school and come with his father to us, to the kart track in Brignoles. Jules was older but Charles was quite close to him, he always asked Jules for advice. Then I lost my son and he lost his dad but this didn't separate us, on the contrary, it brought us even closer. And every now and then when I look at Charles, he reminds me of my son”.

Q: Many people say [Jules and Charles] look alike. Were they similar in character as well?

“They both had the same obsession with racing. It was more than a passion, they just wanted to race and win. A true vocation. Charles sometimes would want to go to sleep in his racing suit, we told him to take it off and go brush his teeth, but he wanted to stay in his suit at all costs. Jules was the same. I remember I once told Jules he should focus more on school and less on racing and he called me crazy: ‘No, Dad, I just want to race’. Then they had the same competitive mean streak in their eyes when they put their helmets on, an incredible [resemblance].”

Q: Leclerc also gave you a very special helmet this year.

“We actually did a swap. When I saw the helmet Charles had made in honour of Jules for the Suzuka Grand Prix this year, I asked him to give it to me and I wanted to give him a Formula 1 helmet that belonged to my son. We don’t usually give Jules’s helmets to anyone but Charles had to have one and when we gave it to him he was overjoyed. He does so much for us, it was right that he should have it”.

Q: Everyone knows of Bianchi the driver, but what kind of boy was your son off the track?

“A good boy, that is what made me the most proud of him. He was always a very strong driver but off the track he was sweet, sensitive and smiled with everyone. Everyone who knew him couldn’t help but love him”.

Q: When did Jules start karting?

“At three years old, very early. I managed a kart track so he had the chance to start when he was very little, he liked it a lot.”

Q: And when did you realize that he had something special?

“To me, he was always very good, but as a father, it’s normal to think that. I thought he was stronger than the other kids but I thought it might be just experience and extra training because he had started so early. When they first started calling us about contracts I realised that maybe he really had something special”.

Q: Then Ferrari came into your life.

“We had been followed by Nicolas Todt as Jules’s manager for some time, and at the end of 2009 came the big opportunity to drive a Ferrari F60 on the track in Jerez, for a test open to young drivers. Jules went very fast straight away and everyone was impressed by his talent and his ability to adapt to the car. I remember that on the return trip I was with Andrea Stella, who had been Jules’s engineer for the test, and he said to me: 'You can tell me, Jules had already tried a Formula 1 car before today, right?'. But he had never done it, he was simply very good.”

Q: How exciting was it for you to see him dressed in red?

“My son was the first driver in the Ferrari Driver Academy and it was a dream come true for everyone, especially for him. He was really proud to wear the Ferrari colours.”

Q: Were you the ones who facilitated a connection between Leclerc and Nicolas Todt?

“Charles’s father had told me that his son’s career was becoming too expensive and so I called Nicolas, telling him that in all those years I had never recommended him any kid to take on [as a manager] even though I saw so many of them pass through our karting track, but he absolutely had to give this kid a chance because he had something extra. I remember that we organized a meeting and Charles and his father showed up dressed very elegantly, it looked like they were going to a wedding. Then they reached an agreement and I was happy because Hervé and I, we always said we had a dream for our children…”

Q: What was this dream?

“To see them race together in Formula 1, maybe even in Ferrari. One a little older, the other younger, but together.”

[brucewaynehater101]

Tim falling in the time stream and YJ fishing him out happens post brucequest so Bart and Kon are alive which helps Cassie keep herself from being gaslit by well meaning members of the justice league who completely forget/ignore/disregard that Batman literally just came back from the "dead" and so Cassie can have Kon and Bart there to keep her from forming or joining another cult

Bruce's reaction depends on the writer and how they feel about Bruce though his family seeing him go into a depressive spiral at the loss of a kid in his custody and getting some partial insight into just how bad he may have been immediately post Jason and the stuff that Tim had to deal with would be interesting, and the family dynamics of dealing with Damian who no longer has the verbal punching bag and focus of jealousy that is Tim available

Ooh. Now I want to kill Tim off in a fic and watch the batfam implode as they deal with their grief and come to several realizations. I've got too many WIPs for that, though.

Anyways, YJ is out here gripping their sanity and determination to bring Tim home by their blood-stained finger nails. It's hysterical laughing, refusing to cry (because he's not dead), and chaotic adventures that aren't as fun without Tim.

When Tim gets back, all four of them (and the retired members) are in agreeance. Fuck the JL. Fuck the other heroes.

For the batfam, we'll say Bruce can't go out to find Tim for plot. The exact reason can be up to the dealer, but he either doesn't hear YJ's theories, or he can't go look for Tim.

This traps Bruce with the rest of the batfam.

Damian, a kid who still looks up to his dad, is suddenly forced into Tim's Robin's role.

He, at first, isn't too upset that Batman is being harsher. Surely, the man would know what's best. Perhaps he's just realizing that criminals should he punished harder (not personal beliefs, obv. Just speculation of Damian's mindset).

Then Bruce gets worse. And worse.

Suddenly, the twelve year old is frozen as he watches the brutality of which Batman is pummeling someone. He's watching as blood flings off of Bruce's gauntlets onto the alley floors and walls. He's hearing the victim pleading.

Damian's not scared. Of course he isn't. That's ridiculous....

He just kind of wishes his Batman, Dick, was there instead.

Damian also has lost his ability to insult Tim. While it's not uncommon to go months without seeing Drake, his family's reactions to Damian's usual comments have changed. Suddenly, everyone is yelling at him or getting angry for what he's saying. He knows Tim died (and gods does it burn that he'll never get to know the older man), but why is the family getting mad at him? They've always let the comments go in the past.

It's an unhealthy coping mechanism and mindset that Damian developed of continuously comparing himself to Drake and dragging the older man down. It's a bit late, but Damian realizes that he doesn't hate Tim. He might have even admired him. He was blinded by his need to feel wanted in a family that chose everyone but him (at least, that's how he thought it was).

It's cruel he only comprehended this after Tim's death.

Jason is still on the outskirts of the family. Yet, from his distance, he has a front row seat to watching Bruce rapidly descend into his grief. Maybe the man denies that's what Bruce was like when Jason died (because Bruce liked Tim more than Jason). Someone points out that any animosity Jason and Bruce have was post his revival (and honestly fuck them for that). They also point out that this Bruce, the spiraling wave of fury, is a much more supported and restrained Batman. Tim, as a thirteen year old, witnessed and pulled this man from his even worse grief.

Jason doesn't know how to process that.

Dick is older and closer. He has to grapple with the fact that he failed another little brother. Another one is dead.

He also has to watch his dad descend into grief all over again. He's closer than he was when Jason died, back when he was brimming with rage at Bruce and despair. He's getting a closer production of Bruce's unhealthy coping skills.

He has to explain to his siblings and himself that last time, when Jason died, Tim weathered this storm. Dick came around, but not nearly enough. He couldn't for his own mental health.

That doesn't assauge his guilt.

Cass :( Imma say she's out there helping YJ. She believes them. It doesn't change how much Tim's death hurts, but she holds onto hope.

Alfred has to watch his son mourn again. Alfred has to mourn his grandson and watch his son destroy himself again. Alfred has to watch the family implode upon itself.

He doesn't have hope that another kind soul like Tim's will be here this time around. He can only offer support as he hopes the family makes it through this time.

When Tim comes back, he's not angry that the JL didn't help or believe YJ. He's not even disappointed.

He's resigned.

He's not upset the Bats didn't do anything either.

Creating YJ wasn't originally about ensuring Tim had support he could count on. He's glad it turned into that, though. He wouldn't give any of them up for the world.

[mooncalf87]

so I have been writing the ghosts for about two years now and I have actually gotten a good handful of people asking how I write each ghost so well SO I'm going to break each character down simply here!!!!

Thor: Thors first language isn't English, so its okay to make is dialog a little silly just like in the show. He's a big tough man but he also has a huge soft spot make sure to incorporate that if need be

Sass: Sass is the youngest main gang ghost- he died at 25. He is not a wise old elder, he is closer to being a kid then any other of the main ghosts. He is still learning new things every day and is still stuck in his nearly fully developed mind, remember that!!

Isaac: he's smart! He may seem silly and goober like at times- AND HE IS- but he is also very smart. He want to Dartmouth, he was an attorney!!! He knows what he's talking about!!! He is also from the 1700s so he doesn't really use words like "gonna" or "yeah" or modern slang as much as the other ghosts do

Hetty: Despite being the character i write the most, I think Hetty is the hardest to write. She has arguably had the most character development out of any ghost- ranging from her marriage, to her children, and even her death- Hetty is constantly changing and growing very visibly with the show. Apply that to her in writing! And just like Isaac she uses old-timey words and no slang. She also doesn't like vowels

Alberta: Alberta is from the roaring twentys. The years where everyone was throwing out the old and bringing in the new! Alberta is a party girl, she's outgoing and self obsessed (which is not necessarily a bad thing) but she also cares about her other ghosts, more then I think any of us can tell. She also moves a lot, her body language represents a lot of what she is thinking and saying- same for Hetty

Flower: Flower died high, but she is still a person. I've seen lots of people, including myself, dehumanize her and treat her as some sort of puppy. She is, sometimes, like a silly little kid- but she is also a fully grown woman who can do things for herself!! Flower got into law school, she is incredibly smart!!!!!

Pete: Pete is a father. He is a parent and a protector, he is constantly guiding his troop and his family! He is the second oldest of all the ghosts and has always been the troop leader, he is constantly in the background of everything and he ALMOST NEVER chooses sides. But he isn't just a wet towel, we've seen him literally bitch punch Thor!! He is also a HUGE hand talker and is always shifting from foot to foot

Trevor: he is a bitch but he is also very incredibly smart, just like Flower. He worked on Wall Street, he went to Pen. He is much smarter then we give him credit for! He usually has his hands clasped infront of him like Pete, but he is also a hand talker! He cares a lot about everyone, especially the younger ghosts + hetty

NOW remember these are just what I make sure to apply to them while writing!!!! Remember to find your own writing style and character projections :3 you can find my ghosts fics on Ao3 under Mooncalf87!!!!

[doraminatook]

We're About To Get Playfully Blasphemous Here (or...The Metaphorical Death and Resurrection of Me)

2023 was the year I turned 33, and in case you didn’t know, many religious scholars cite that as the age Jesus was crucified and rose from the dead.  Now, within literature there’s a trope called the Christ-like figure in which a character sacrifices themself and from that death, something happens in order to advance the plot.  Usually that something is either the “dead” character rising from the ashes and obtaining new powers (think Gandalf the Grey battling the Balrog and then coming back as Gandalf the White) or the protagonist being so moved by the death of this secondary character that they are reborn in some way (think Red Badge of Courage’s Jim Conklin (JC…get it?) whose death changes Henry’s opinion on war.)

Because I’m a storyteller and have a dark sense of humor, I began to wonder if I would somehow have a Christ-like-figure-moment within my thirty-third year of life.  (Not long after my birthday, I told my mom that I just had to make it to 34 and then I would have “beaten” Jesus; being a good Lutheran woman, she did not appreciate this joke.)

Now, I may be reaching or forcing figurative imagery into the literal world (isn’t that what artists do?), but I think I did have a “death” and consequential “resurrection”.  

I’m at a strange place in my writing career in that I am not famous (by any means) but I’m also not considered emerging.  Recently, I was told by a theater that I should “sit this contest out” and give someone else a chance but at the same time my work has not been produced enough to catch an agent’s eye.  (It doesn’t help that theatre companies have an intense fixation on world premieres.  They want to be the first one to do the show, apparently assuming that as soon as a piece gets produced once, that means it’s finished.  But that’s a rant for another day.) 

Currently I live in Milwaukee and for a long time I thought (or at least hoped) that I could maybe just make it work here; it is technically a theater town.  Add to that the fact that my whole family lives in Wisconsin, my financial situation was not ideal, and my best friend (platonic soulmate) had made it fairly clear to me that she did not wish to move away from Milwaukee.  When I was honest with myself, I knew that I wanted to get out, but there were so many things holding me back from making the jump.  

As soon as the thought of moving away entered my head, Anxiety would perk up.  Always eager to be the backseat driver, it would shout things like, “Isn’t life here good enough for you?  You’ve got a roof over your head, a job that allows you to pursue your passion, and you’re perfectly healthy.  Be grateful for what you have and stop expecting something more!” 

I attended a workshop for other playwrights from the area and, at the risk of sounding arrogant, I didn’t have a lot in common with many of them.  Discussions and questions whirled around about how we find time to write, where we get inspiration, and how we format a script properly.  Some of the writers present had never even finished a full script.  I certainly am not bringing this up in order to shame anyone, but it was an eye-opening experience for me.  Was I a proverbial big fish in a little pond?

My anxiety had an opinion for that, too.  

“Wow!  Way to be egotistical, D!  You think you’re so much better than everyone here?  Get over yourself!  You’re not special.  You’re just another ‘artist’ who thinks they’ve got something special to say!”

A few weeks later I was at my cousin’s wedding and after the ceremony, he approached me to offer congratulations for all the success I’ve had…only to then immediately cut me off guard with the question, “So when are you moving to New York?”  As the groom, he was quickly called away for photographs and I never really got to answer his question.  

If this moment had been in a play, the spotlight would have hit me right then and there and I would have begun some contemplative soliloquy where I openly pondered, “New York, eh?  Maybe I should go to New York!”

Obviously, as a theatre person, the idea of moving to New York had crossed my mind; it’s the theatre capital of the US for obvious reasons.  But, at the same time, New York just didn’t feel like me.  (I have a lot of opinions on NYC, especially when it comes to the outrageous ticket prices.  When it costs a small fortune to see a Broadway show, art becomes a luxury rather than a necessity.  But that’s a rant for another day.)  It certainly seemed daunting, and every good dream should be at least a little daunting.  But New York was daunting without being exciting.  It felt like something I should do…something that was expected of me.

LA didn’t do it for me, either.  Nor Seattle.  I considered many locations, but nothing really made me sit up and take notice.  I wasn’t about to dive headfirst into debt and throw away a good thing unless it was something that truly excited me…something that was enticing enough to spark a change.  

Again, Anxiety spoke up, “Calm the fuck down, D!  New York?  Even if that is what you wanted, they’d eat you alive there!  You’re a soft midwestern girl who can’t take criticism and cries at the drop of a hat!  You really think you could handle New York or LA?  Also, the cost of living in any of those places is way more than you will ever hope to make!  Stick with Submission Helper.  Stick with the contests and the festivals.  Go back to dreaming only as big as The Milwaukee Repertory Theatre.  Sit down and shut up!”

It may have gone on like this…if not for the summer of 2023.

Close your eyes and picture it: WGA strike, Barbenheimer, The Eras Tour, OceanGate, the Grimace Birthday shake…and in the midst of it all, I was having an epiphany.  

A favorite television show of mine dropped its latest season and I eagerly pulled out the Chardonnay and the popcorn to binge it all.  The vast majority of the show takes place in London and features several actors whom I admire greatly.  Between the giggles, sobs, and various twists and turns of the emotional rollercoaster that was Season 2, something all at once occurred to me.

This is what I want.  

That’s where I want to be.  

I want to move to the United Kingdom.

Was it daunting?  Hell yeah, it was daunting.  

And it was exciting.  

It was a dream that excited me.  

It burned inside me.  

It raged.

It burned so hot that I didn’t know what to do with it.  I paced around my tiny apartment, simply stunned by the prospect of it all.  

Anxiety was in the process of drinking a quad shot espresso con panna and promptly did a spit take upon hearing this new idea.  In a frenzied panic, it bellowed, “Are you nuts?  What the hell do you think you’re doing?  YOU can’t move to the UK!  It would be so difficult!  You’d need to apply for a Visa…or something like that!  Do you even know how to apply for a Visa!”  

“No,” I metaphorically replied, “but I could learn.”

“I bet it’s super difficult!” Anxiety shot back, trembling in fear, “I bet it’s expensive and complicated and you’ll never figure it out!  I bet your sense of humor wouldn’t translate!  I bet you’d end up broke and living under a bridge and crying because you threw away this good thing you had!”

For a split second, Anxiety almost won…but somehow, prompted by the promise of this new dream, I dared to ask, “But what if it worked out?  What if I could figure it out?  What if I somehow scraped up the money and did the research and filed the paperwork and just made it work?”

If it were a play, I would have been standing center stage, staring out into the audience like some kind of dramatic hero and whispering hopefully, “Yes…what if…?”  

It has been a long road to get here, but, despite what Anxiety likes to tell me, I did figure it out.  The process has been stressful enough to induce atypical Shingles and a few anxiety attacks, but it’s happening.  It’s actually happening!

This October I’m going to grad school at the University of Essex where I’ll pursue my masters degree in Scriptwriting.  I’ll hone my skills as a playwright while learning the ins and out of writing for film, television, and radio.  I’ll take the train into London on the weekends and see every show I can at the National Theatre.  I’ll get new life experiences.  I’ll do my best to explore every inch of that beautiful island.  I’m going to do something new because it’s scary and, most importantly, it’s exciting.  

(To add to the awesomeness of this new adventure, my best friend (platonic soul mate) is moving with me and pursuing her own dreams of studying acting…also at the University of Essex.)

My “death” was not as dramatic or world-changing as Jesus’s, but it gave way to a new life for me.  The power of storytelling combined with a newfound confidence was enough to catapult me into something new, something different.    

And I know you’re wondering what show I was watching that prompted this sudden change; if you know anything about me, you’ve probably guessed it already.  

Along with seeing as much theatre as I can on my visits to London, I also plan to have surreptitious meetings at The Bandstand, feed ducks some frozen peas at St. James’s Park, and maybe help avert an apocalypse (or two).  My birthday is in January and it just so happens that Season 3 is scheduled to begin filming around that time; perhaps on my winter holiday, I’ll put myself onto a train and take myself up to Edinburgh.  I have so many thoughts on what could possibly happen next to my favorite angel and demon…but that’s a rant for another day.

(Fun fact: I say this line at least once a week...if only to myself.)

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Slice of Paradise

a/n My brain literally now run only on Joel... So here's a little something something. 🫧

summary: Joel dream of having a farmhouse comes true. What makes it even better is that he's not there alone. He has his own little family to enjoy this little slice of paradise with him.

warnings: just tooth rotting fluff, mention of reader being pregnant, mentions of morning sickness.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

If someone were to tell you that somewhere along the line you were going to end up at a place like Jackson in a farmhouse with a loving husband and kids, you would have laughed at them. Or brushed it off to the outback insanity. It seemed impossible. Safety seemed impossible at first. Then followed freedom and, of course, happiness. Those things appeared to be worthy of history textbooks. They could have a title like - at some point in human history, they were happy.

It was hard to move past deaths and past killings. Making sure you kept your humanity alive. Not to become a killing monster. Similar to clickers or any other of those fuckers. When Ellie happened, you had a feeling your life was going to change. You just never imagined it would change so drastically. You and Joel had settled for a dull day-to-day routine. Coming to terms with the fact that your life in QZ was as good as it could get. You never complained. You had one after another. Others didn't even have that kind of luxury.

But here you were now. In a little farmhouse with green shutters that Joel and Ellie had painted over for you because that's what you had always wanted. A garden - full of flowers that you tended to. Of course, to share with the town, but also for your own enjoyment. A couple of dozen of sheep were carelessly plucking grass in the fields around. Something that Joel wanted. Something that had helped him think clearer.

You hummed to yourself. Cutting up the last pieces for supper. The warm spring sun peeped through the windows, only making the smile on your face bigger. It still seemed surreal at times. Like all this was just a dream. One from which you never wanted to awaken. A little flutter in your stomach made you stop. Hand slipping on your five-month pregnant belly. Big enough to let everyone know that you were with a child but not big enough to make it hard for you to move around just yet.

Joel still found the walk to the house odd. It was weird in itself that he had a home to come to. And it wasn't the house itself that surprised him. Oh, no. You, Ellie, and now the baby that was on its was what made it home. A place where he could finally let go. Where the ghost of his past had a harder time finding him. Joel had finally been able to see the bigger picture. He was finally a part of a bigger picture.

With a gun still on his shoulder, Joel opened the wooden gates as he strolled towards the house. The dog on the side of the patio lifted his head, and Joel quickly reached to scratch his ear. "Hi, Brandy, why are you out in front, boy?", Joel questioned as the dog eagerly wagged his tail.

Ellie had come up with the name. She was eager for Joel to name the pup. No one else was allowed to pick a name. "Oh, come on, old thing! Think of something", she said, pushing for a thousand time. She wiggled a toy in her hand as the dog jumped around happily. "I don't know, Ellie. Just name it yourself," he grumbled, even though he knew that she wasn't going to drop the subject until he came up with something. "How about that nasty shit you always drink?", suggested Ellie, looking up. "Brandy?" Joel questioned, and the dog cocked his head at the sound of Joel's voice. Ellie's eyes grew big as she clapped happily. "You like it, boy? Do you like the name? He likes Brandy," she chirped happily. You leaned closer to Joel, laughing as he shook his head, and yet the smile was evident.

The house was quiet as Joel undid his jacket before hanging it up neatly. Knowing that you would be up his sleeve if he left a mess behind himself. He made his way through the house, stopping to listen in the living room. Hoping that he would pick up any sound that would lead him to you. And he did. A light humming came from the kitchen.

And you were indeed there; however, Joel nearly had a heart attack when he saw you standing up on the counter as you tried to reach for something in the upper cabinets. "Have you gone mad, woman", his voice started you, making you nearly drop the jar of spices in your hands. Joel's hands came off either side of your torso as he carefully lifted you off the counter. Your hands pressing into his shoulders.

"What are you doing here?", you questioned, not expecting him to be home just yet. Hence your little adventure. "The better question is, why were you up on the counter at five months pregnant?" You rolled your eyes at him. Appreciating the protectiveness but also slightly hating that now he thought that you were made of glass. "I needed this," you said as you fiddled with the jar in your hands. Moving to take off the lid of the pot before pouring some of it in. Joel's hands didn't leave your sides. "You get the step stool for that, love; we talked about it. You can't do this weird monkey shit; you're not ten." You turned back to your husband. Hands moving to cup his face as you looked at him, "You haven't seen half of my tricks", "I will tie you to the chair if you'll continue to do stuff like that", Joel warned you, and you couldn't help but laugh a little, "Don't forget your gun while you watch over me then".

His eyes altered as he glanced at you, and you couldn't help but let out a sigh. Joel leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, "I just don't want you both to get hurt." You moved your palms to run up and down his chest. "I know, honey, I promise no more jumping on counters," you said softly, kissing the tip of his nose. "Unless you're supervising me," you chirp, causing Joel to let out a chuckle.

"How are you feeling today?", Joel's tender palms slipped to run over your bump, and you hummed in delight as the warmth from his skin seeped through your flowy dress. "We're good. I didn't start my morning with a head down the toilet, can you believe it?", you cackled, and Joel gave you a knowing look. Morning sickness had taken its toll on you. To the point where he had rushed you to the doctor in town when you blacked out after vomiting for an hour straight. Joel refused to do any morning petrol after that. He wanted. He needed to be by your side. Even if every time you tried to usher him out of the bathroom, claiming it must be extremely disgusting to him.

"That's good, I was worried the whole morning," he admitted, focusing his attention on the bump. "Joel, we are all okay," your hand slipped on top of his, "She's been happily kicking away all morning," "She? No, it's a boy, aren't you, little guy?" Joel leaned down, pressing a lovely kiss and then the other on the swell of your tummy. Shortly after, a light kick followed up Joel's touch, making the male smile as he repeated the action once again.

"And where's El?", Joel asked, looking around the place. She usually sat by the island doing her homework happily by now, but there was no sight of her there. You hummed, "She said she would come a bit later than usual. She's out with a friend," you wiggled your brows, briefly turning your gaze to the food. "A friend?", "Yeah, Dina I think, and I suspect she likes her", a smile spread on your face as you thought about the little girly chat you two had.

"That's good; she deserves to have a friend. Good for her," Joel's arms were still roaming your skin as you turned back to him, giving him a look, "No, Joel. I mean, like, like her," Joel's face blanked as the realization dawned on him, and you hummed. "She brought in pancakes with fruit and cream to school to share with her", you giggled. Joel stayed silent as he stared ahead of himself. It felt silly, but Joel was almost jealous that Ellie suddenly had someone else in her life. Like he didn't want to share her with anyone else. You three had fallen into such conformable dynamics. It felt easy, and it felt right. To Joel, Ellie was still too young to date or have a crush. "Wipe the frown off your face; it's not like she's getting married already," you said as you nudged your husband's shoulder as he folded his hands over his chest.

"Mom," Ellie's voice echoed down the corridor. Your heart fluttered. It still did. Even after more than a year of her referring to you like that. She had sat you and Joel down after a month or two of you moving into the farmhouse. She was a stuttering mess as she tried to explain, or more specifically, ask if she would be allowed to call you her parents.

"Because we like live together, and then you let me stay, and I have my room. But the room, of course, means nothing, but you like wanted me to stay so…", you reached for her hand and then gave it a little squeeze as you cut her ramble off. "I'd be honored to be your mom," you said softly, and Ellie bit down on her lower lip in hopes of stopping it from quivering. Her eyes landed on Joel, who had his arms crossed over his chest. His usual stance - an unapproachable demeanor that he hadn't dropped even now. "Go ahead, just no daddy shit, or you're sleeping in the stables," Joel said. Ellie instantly rounded the corner of the table and launched herself into Joel's arms. Hugged his torso as she smiled. "Okay, daddy," she whispered, making Joel tickle her.

You smiled to yourself as the memory melted into your mind. "In the kitchen, baby," you shouted back. Joel's hand moved back to your hip as he and you waited for Ellie to appear. The footsteps sounded weird. Not as familiar. As if there were more than one set of them. And well, your hearing hadn't failed you, as another girl appeared on Ellie's left side. "Oh, dad, I thought you wouldn't be home." Ellie's face paled slightly, as she noticed Joel, but the lazy smile on his face made her ease up almost instantly. "I missed my girls; I thought I'd surprise you," he said in return. In a way, he was hoping that Ellie would run up to hug him like she always did when Joel returned from work, but he also understood that now that she had a friend here, she probably wouldn't do so.

"Ah… well, this is Dina, a friend from school," Ellie said shyly, and the girl by her side waved nervously at you two, "Can she stay for dinner?" Joel studied the girl. The girl who possibly Ellie liked. He tried to pinpoint the features she might have taken to her liking. "Of course, that would be lovely. Go wash your hands, you two, and I'll come to get you when it's ready." Stepping closer, you caressed Ellie's cheeks tenderly. She flashed you a bright smile as she took Dina by the hand, and the two ran up the stairs laughing.

You turned back to your husband, fanning your hands in front of your eyes as the tears parked up, clouding your vision. "Sugar, what's all of this for?", Joel stepped closer to you, embracing you once again. "Don't pay attention, hormones," you muttered, wiping away the tears. Joel chuckled softly, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. "Didn't you just tell me that she ain't getting married just yet?", he teased, making you bite down your lip. As another wave of tears rolled down your cheeks, "Imagine her in a dress, no, a suit—she would do a suit, ahh," you whimpered, covering your face with your hands.

Joel shook his head, pulling you even closer to him, his hands running up and down your back, soothing you. Secretly enjoying this more sensitive side of you. That one that cried at Brandy bathing in the sun or Ellie's school project. Even Joel's neatly folded clothes had you shedding tears. Joel breathed in the scent of you. One hand slipped back down onto your bump. "Take nice, big breaths, honey. Want a glass of water?", he asked, shifting, reaching for a cup as he guided you to sit down on the chair. Quickly stirring the pot before turning back to you.

"Do you think this little bug will grow up just as fast?", your hand slipped over your bump subconsciously once more. Joel hummed, "Don't they all? We'll blink, and this one will be climbing up the countertops," you sniffed again, unable to suppress a grin. "Go to your sheep before you turn me into a puddle", you waved Joel away playfully. It had been his habit for some time. He had a little talk with his soft friend before he sat down for dinner. A way for him to digest the day.

"Do I at least get a kiss?", Joel cocked his head to the side, watching you. "Do you think you deserve one?", "For putting a baby inside you, yes." You let out a gasp, hitting his chest. "Joel, dear God, they might hear you", he lets out a deep belly laugh, stepping closer to you, "Shut me up with a kiss", you roll your eyes. Cupping his cheeks before you leaned in, as you pressed your lips to Joel's in a tender kiss. Yeah, this was home, and even if Joel often thought he didn't deserve it, he wouldn't trade it for anything else.

[weirdrandomtina]

Poppy character development appreciation post!

In Branch's old pod, when Poppy says he can talk to her, she pays full attention, never takes her eyes off him, and when he hesitates she continues to smile patiently. In World Tour, while he's trying to talk to her, she has her back to him and is focusing on watering the flowers, and when he hesitates, she only half pays attention.

When a friendly but random stranger picks up Branch who is clearly not liking to be thrown around, Poppy doesn't laugh about it or go along with it. And instead of saying politely, "hey, excuse me, could you please put him down", she literally snaps at JD, "STOP, PUT HIM DOWN RIGHT NOW". (and of course she refers to Branch as her boyfriend🥰)

"JD is only here because he needs something". When JD confirms that's true, Poppy could've said, "Nah, there's more to it than that", and JD could've said, "Yeah, Floyd's in danger..." and Poppy would've gone "See, told you..." Instead, she gives JD a deadpan look and says flatly, "C'mon, I'm trying here." Again, blunt and not Queen Poppy's usual giddy politeness.

Poppy wants to hear the full story of how she and Viva got separated, whereas before Poppy would've accepted Viva's vague explanation like, "Oh well, we're together now, everything's cupcakes and rainbows!" Now, Poppy recognizes Viva is changing the subject to avoid discussing negative feelings, and thanks to Branch, Poppy now knows that sugarcoating everything is not the way to deal with your problems. Also, Poppy is patient and gentle with Viva - she understands this is a sensitive / painful topic for her sister, and isn't pestering, "C'mon, tell me, tell me, I gotta know!"

In Trolls 1, when Cloud Guy teases Branch who clearly is not amused, Poppy laughs despite the life or death situation they're in. In Trolls 3, when JD teases Branch about wearing a smaller diaper, Poppy doesn't find it funny and doesn't say something like "Oh, come on, Branch, just go with it, have fun!"

When Branch tells Poppy he didn't need his brothers growing up and doesn't need them now, Poppy doesn't object or try to convince him to go back and make it work with them anyway. She just follows him, supporting him in the way he needs: being there for him no matter what. Since things didn't work out with Viva, Poppy realized family is indeed complicated.

When Poppy stops Branch from walking away, she doesn't only say, "I've always been by your side, give me some credit". She says how they've been by each other's sides. She didn't get annoyed that he implied she'll leave him, because she sees now that he's afraid of losing her like he lost his brothers and his grandma. She tells him she's not going anywhere in a sincere tone, not being silly or dismissive.

At Mount Rageous, Branch is the one taking the lead / making the plans while Poppy supports it and follows his lead. She isn't being reckless with Branch blindly following along, and she isn't making light of the situation (like in the first movie she scrapbooks his plan. Also, her 'plan' is to 'rescue everyone and make it home safely', which Branch points out is not a plan. Now she's helping him formulate an actual plan). When trying to get onto the yacht, she asks Branch, "What do we do?" She now is willing to listen to him and respects that he can be a leader, not just her.

Poppy very bluntly points out Velvet/Veneer's bad behaviour. No trying to justify it, no trying to change their minds with kind words and catchy songs, no asking nicely to let Brozone go - she screams that their phonies in front of a massive crowd, and the way she's angrily pacing tells me she wanted to say something worse. A huge change from Movie 1 and Movie 2 Poppy.

The protective-hand-reaching forward thing that Branch has always done to Poppy - she did to him!

BONUS - development from both Branch and Poppy: when she goes on her sister rant and he snaps her out of it, he starts shouting her name then softens, while she realizes what she's doing, snaps out of it, instantly calms down and gets to the point.

Here are some other great Poppy development posts I came across:

[calisources]

CHILDREN   OF   THE   NIGHT.   a   collection   of   quotes   and   scenarios   about   vampires.   change   pronouns/names   as   you   see   fit.   These   were   all   taken   from   different   sources   of   fiction,   both   in   literature   and   audiovisual   media.   all   known   triggers   for   vampire   media   apply   (blood,   death,   murder,   gothic   horror, obsessive love   and   more).

SENTENCES AND QUOTES. change pronouns and names, locations as you see fit.

"I took mythology a lot more seriously since I’d become a vampire."

“None of us really changes over time; we only become more fully what we are.”

"A vampire, like a lady, never reveals his true age."

"How do we seem to you? Do you find us beautiful and magical?”

"The strength of the vampire is that people will not believe in him."

"Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make!"

"The blood is the life!"

"Loving the monsters always ends badly for the humans. It's a rule."

“When people see good, they expect good. I don't want to have to live up to anyone's expectations.”

“Love is a vampire’s greatest weakness. And we are not weak.”

“You know that old saying. Once you go dead, no one's better in bed.”

“For a hundred years I offered ugly death to everyone I met, and I did it with a song in my heart.”

"I'm not human. And I miss it. I miss it more than anything in the world. That is my secret."

“I'm in love with a woman I can never have. The point is I'm in love with her and it's driving me crazy. I'm not in control.”

"Your life is pathetic. Your after-life doesn't have to be."

"Life sucks either way, Jeremy. At least if you're a vampire, you don't have to feel bad about it if you don't want to."

"You want a love that consumes you. You want passion and adventure and even a little danger."

"Sometimes the world turns good people into bad people."

"People have been after me for a thousand years, but I'm always one step ahead."

"Mother made us vampires. She didn't make us monsters. We did that to ourselves."

"Perhaps one day, in a year or even in a century. You'll turn up at my door and let me show you what the world has to offer."

"Do you have any idea how rare love is? In a thousand years, I have found it but twice, and when I have, I have honored it."

"You're a vampire, sweetheart. I don't think you'll ever be okay again."

“When you feel the blood rush in, you tell yourself that you’re gonna get through it; that you’re strong enough.”

“You’d be surprised how easy it is to forget the past, Elena.”

“I wanna rip into your skin. And I wanna feed on your blood. Under your skin.”

“I just want one taste. That''s all I need. I just want one taste.”

“There’s the briefest of moments before we kill, where we literally hold their life in our hands and then rip it away, and we’re left with nothing.”

“Do you know the secret to immortality?”

“The vampire bond. There is no human equivalent.”

“He was my mentor, my murderer, my maker.”

“When was the last time you drank blood?”

“Left you with a bit of a craving, didn’t it? One day that craving is gonna grow.”

“That's cause you took my life! I got nothing. I lost everything. I lost my brother. I lost my family. About to lose the last fucking thing I care about.”

“And then I watched you pull over and drain a dog. And run down an alleyway for two more rats. This is not a life!”

“Hunting is an art. You have the power to subdue anyone you want, but sometimes restraint is your most powerful weapon.”

“What does this taste like to you?”

“There is one thing about being a vampire that I must fear above all else, and that is loneliness. You can't imagine the emptiness. The void.”

“Vampires are killers. Apex predators whose all-seeing eyes were meant to give them detachment. The ability to see a human life in its entirety.”

“Don’t underestimate the allure of the darkness. Even the purest hearts are drawn to it.”

“End of the day, human life is just a means to an end. Our means to our end.”

“A mutual law of nature is the strong always take from the weak.”

“It’s better to have a flawed life lived than wasted rotting away in clay.”

“Hatred, a pure and perfect hatred that’s greater now than the day I first took your life.”

“A thousand years of history isn’t going to write itself.”

“I can’t be killed.”

“I’m the monster lesser monsters fear.”

"I have crossed oceans of time to find you."

"You don't know what you are asking of me. To drink from you."

"You need blood, take it."

"To walk with me you must die to your breathing life, and be reborn to mine."

"I love you, Stefan. We will be together again. I promise."

"You loved me once, you will love me again."

"I made him. Did you know that?"

"I never compelled your love. It was real, and so was mine."

"What did you think was gonna happen? She would look at you, see your real face and give you a kiss?"

"I could swap this life of shame. Swap it out for a dark gift. You just have to ask me for it."

"Vampyrism is, by definition, an afterlife."

"I'm not the one who was sleeping with one vampire while half in love with another. Your morality is a moving target. Mine is not."

"A man damaged by his demons and those demons are not dormant, they are hell-bent on killing me and everything I find beautiful. And you, you are beautiful."

"You are stronger now. Meaner. Sexier."

"They are like vampire royalty. The oldest among us."

"He is the original hybrid. Half vampire, half werewolf."

"We both know I could snap your neck and do my nails at the same time."

 “Viktor. The oldest and strongest of us. That night, he made me a Vampire. "

"Stop fighting who you are."

"I'll tell you what I know about death, Camille. Death dances silently in everyone's shadow, and she doesn't give a damn."

"Turns out, I have complicated feelings for a monster."

ACTIONS AND SCENARIOS. Add a +reverse for the inverse action. Change names as you see fit.

[YOU ARE NOT HUMAN]: sender figured out receiver is a vampire and confronts them.

[FEEDING HOUR]: receiver finds sender feeding on someone's blood.

[WHEN IS A MONSTER NOT A MONSTER]: sender touches receiver's vampire face, showing they are not afraid.

[YOU NEED TO]: sender offers their blood to receiver.

[ECHOES OF THE PAST]: receiver is a doppelganger/looks like a person the sender knew in the past.

[DEATH AND THE MAIDEN]: receiver and sender can't be together as one is immortal and the other is a vampire.

[MY MAKER, MY LOVER]: sender is receiver's sire and they reunite after centuries after.

[BOND]: receiver is senders fledgling and sender can feel them.

[ELIXIR]: receiver is hurt and sender, a vampire, feeds them their blood.

[SHARING]: sender tempts receiver to share a meal of blood.

[HUNTING THE HUNTER]: sender is a vampire hunter, and they found receiver.

[THE INVITATION]: receiver receives an INVITATION to stay at sender's gothic/ancient manor.

[DRACULA'S BRIDE]: sender wants receiver to be one of their wives/lovers.

[BLOOD FAMILIAR]: sender is a vampire familiar, a human bloodbag under receiver protection. receiver finds out another vampire had bitten them.

[CRAVING]: sender tasted receiver once and craved them again.

[INVITED]: after bring invited inside, sender shows up at receiver's home.

[LICK]: sender licks receiver's blood remains from their mouth.

[LAST RESORT]: receiver has to turn sender into vampire because they are dying. sender wakes up in transition.

[ANCHOR]: sender calms receiver down after receiver went on a bloodlust spree. sender reminds them their humanity.

[RIVAL COVENS]: sender and receiver are from rival vampire covens and they talk in neutral ground.

[HUMANITY]: sender is human and because of them, receiver is starting to feel humanity again.

[I'LL BE YOUR GUIDE]: receiver is guiding sender through the early stages of vampirism.

[RIVAL SPECIES]: sender is a werewolf/witch and receiver is a vampire. they fall in love/ally with each other.

[DHAMPIR]: sender is a half human, half vampire who just had their first taste of human blood. receiver finds them.

[REFLECTION]: sender looks in the mirror and finds out that receiver has no reflection.

[spicyvampire]

I was gonna make gifsets out of them but tbh idk if I'll ever have the time because it would be like 20+ gifs gifset but I have to say

Great and Tyme had the most complex character developments I've ever seen in a show

Great went from being extremely passive and selfish in the face of violence, e.i. letting Den's girlfriend to have a heart attack when he literally had a phone in his hand he could have call an ambulance and letting Manee die after hitting her and not stopping Title from killing Dome and letting his parents control him like a puppet while he self destruct alone, to genuinely trying to have a connection with Tyme even if Tyme was using him (it's not like he knew any better from anyone else around him all people do is use him: Title used him as accessory to murder, his parents use him for the family business, he is probably used to people using him for his family money and that's why he has like virtuallyno friends other than Title), to trying to save Nan but being paralyzed by fear, to confronting his parents about their illegal businesses when the news broke irl before even his 4MP, in the middle of all of that he was already become permeable to the idea that his parents and him weren't good people, he was having trouble sleeping & being alone because of that, and on top of that he had Tyme yelling some sens into him because he could not just stay in that state of passiveness, indecision and self destruction forever, his inaction hurt people, got them killed, got him shot

So in his 4MP he became braver, he saved Manee, he saved Dome, he helped save Nan, he help Tyme get at his parents for being assholes, because he never wished that none of it happened he just wished he had reacted better, and meanwhile he also experienced another thing he always wished he had which is someone who cared deeply about him, even if he barely knew Tyme, he knew that Tyme had that in him because of how Tyme treated him before during and after using him to get back at his dad, and to be honest it really didn't matter if Tyme didn't have it in him as long as he was brave and someone treated him right before he was gone forever

And when he came back from his 4MP, he knew he couldn't change and be as perfect as he was in his 4MP but he could better in the future, he can stop his parents before they came back and started that cycle of violence all over again because once again they were using him and putting him in danger for their own benefits and were focused on trying to get something they didn't even deserve back, he can make amends for what he had done before aka hit and run with Manee and his implication in Dome's death, he can take decisive actions even if they are hard and will affect him negatively because it's the right thing to do and because he isn't alone anymore, Tyme is there, Tyme knows everything, understands him and loves him anyway

Tyme on the other hand got completely changed by resentment when he found and read his mom diary, he became cold and uncaring towards everyone around him including his patients and his ex, he was so blinded by rage that he misinterpreted the contents of the diary, he used Great who had nothing to do with any of it other than being related to the person he thought was responsible for his parents' death, threatened the wrong people, couldn't save Nan after putting her in danger by involving her in his vendetta, lashed out on Great who was genuinely trying to be better & help but he could not see it because he was too angry, impulsively exposed the gambling dens out of anger, Great is in the hospital dying after he just used him and lashed out at him, he got his Grandma killed instead of giving justice to his parents he lost his last family member, and then got shot and his heart stop in irl

So in his 4MP he chose not to read the diary at all from the very start, he chose to be free of the resentment and anger of what was taken from him and what could have been, he will never be a singer but that's fine, he can learn to love being a doctor and learn to care about his patients, he can break up with Nutcha properly and have his grandma be with him, he can love Great and Great can love him and he can be happy with that

Tyme experienced the 2 complete extreme on the spectrum of Revenge and resentment, a world where he was blinded his vendetta and didn't see anything but it before he was shot and a world where he didn't touch that vendetta at all, and when he came back from his 4MP he realized that he didn't want to make those choices like that anymore, he didn't want to be only fuelled by revenge but he couldn't just live with 0 justice being served, especially not with Great being back next to him who is taking action to right his wrong doings, so he chose to still try and find justice but in a way that would honor his parents & his grandma, in a way that will allow him to feel the love that can be between Great and him, in a way that he would be happy with the life he has

So yeah, I think this show had a very interesting and complex way of showing characters developments that we have never seen before, and while it was extremely non-linear, the message of taking better decisions so you do not have only regrets on ur death bed was very clear, and I'm gonna be thinking about those characters for a while

[kvetchlandia]

OK...

I'm more or less back. I can't say I've recovered from the shock of the hell the people of the United States have inflicted upon themselves and and upon the rest of the world. I mean, who recovers from the knowledge that people actually chose to put themselves under the governance of a bloated pig who promises to use the military to go after his political rivals (including, for fuck sake, Liz Cheney, an arch conservative); who's been responsible for the removal of women's legal right to control their own bodies, already resulting in completely preventable deaths; who in no uncertain terms has made public his desire to be a dictator; who is a man that has been convicted of multiple felonies and has been found civilly liable for sexually assaulting one woman and who bragged on television, in a tape seen by virtually everyone on the planet, of assaulting others; and on and on and on. I could detail so much more about the planned assaults on civil liberties, on civil society and on the environment by this repugnant shmuck but there's little point to that. All I'll accomplish should I do that is another night of bashing my head against the wall or of sticking my head in the electric oven and yet again singeing my poor eyebrows. So, I guess I'll return to my lame posts. They're a way of killing a bit of time and some of you guys even occasionally like the crap I put up on my page, which always thrills me and for which I'm eternally grateful.

I'm ancient by Bumblr standards. I am what's known in the jargon as a "red diaper baby," the child of parents who had been in the Communist Party. Because of this, I've been going to demonstrations quite literally since before I was born. I've continued the family tradition of being politically active and over many years have taken part in more demos than I care to count. All I can say is that, come the inauguration of this monster in January, quite possibly the last inauguration of a president in this country, if Trump is to be believed, I'll be back in the streets once again, wearing my red union tee shirt and carrying one sign or another. We have the capacity to make the streets ours and to use that power to change things for the better. Will we develop the leadership and the organization necessary to accomplish that? I don't want to be pessimistic (or honest, as the case may be), so I'll just say, that remains to be seen. Meanwhile, back to silliness.

[mywifeismothman]

THIS IS KILLING ME.

I picked up tbhk in 2021 thinking it was a silly monster of the week style supernatural comedy. Oh my god, how AidaIro has tricked me. I should have turned back before I got too invested, but tbhk is a part of me now, I think I’d die without it.

IVE BEEN SOBBING FOR THE PAST TEN MINUTES AT MIDNIGHT OVER CHAPTER 120!

Spoiler warning for chapter 120 (read it if you haven’t already and suffer with me):

After chapter 119, this world’s Kou and Mitsuba were basically killed in the red house, once again proving that those two can literally never be happy. When Kou said he’d die for Mitsuba in that one chapter, I don’t think this is what he meant.

But when he says he can’t help them go back, I can’t figure out if he’s talking about Mitsuba or the fact that he’s stuck in the red house. Probably both, as he says something later which implies he’s talking about Mitsuba.

Mostly the red house though, as shown in these panels. Which hit me really hard for some reason.

I started sobbing when I saw these panels though,

Just look at his face, there’s something about the shading and detail in his face which captivates you. Watching the one character who is so fixated on trying to have everyone live die was so heart wrenching.

The parallel between this panel and chapter 118 is killing me. In that chapter, Mitsuba and Kou talk about their bad dreams, ones of the old world where Mitsuba is dead. They don’t want to accept that any of those dreams could be real, promising to each other to live their lives to the fullest, only accepting the dreams as real if they failed to forget.

In this chapter, Mitsuba and Kou were never able to live a life where they could ignore those dreams, almost immediately getting killed. So to Kou, he now had to accept those dreams, with their new reality becoming the bad dream he tells Nene to forget.

This panel also killed me.

He’s clearly talking about Mitsuba, who else could he be talking about. Again showing just how much he means to him. Again, it reminds me of the chapter where Kou talks about dying for Mitsuba, showing that he’ll always be there for him, even in death.

I also want to just talk about poor Nene, look at this panel:

This is the second time that one of her only living friends has had some connection with death, but this is the first time one has straight up disappeared before her eyes. This whole ark has Nene being tormented by death and loss and I hate it.

I wanna touch on Teru quickly. I’ve never loved characters with his type of personality before, but I think this ark has completely changed my mind about him. First, there was that face he made talking about his mother being alive, and then him being forced to exorcise his own brother. Which must have been devastating to Teru, considering that his whole motive is to protect his family, the two he has left. I think this is some of the most emotional we’ve seen in Teru. And I’m crying again

I spent like 30 minutes at midnight typing this out because once again AidaIro has delivered a heartbreaking chapter, and I need to talk about it.

Oh my god, I was so busy crying yesterday I didn’t realize his and Mitsuba’s corpses were in the well.

[cl-0v3r]

can I talk about something real quick?

I hate how 99% of arcane fans completely Ignore their favorite character's flaws so much. I know this has been complained about multiple times but i genuinely get so tired of it and physically need to turn off my phone when that happens.

And Im not talking about Jinx, everyone knows she's not a great person, neither am I talking about silco or Sevika or quite literally any of the characters that are placed on the darker shade of grey.

Im talking about characters like Viktor or Mel or Jayce, Vi & Caitlyn aswell, but specifically the first three.

Look, we all know what their intentions are, they only wanted to help, they wanted the best for their cities/family and their goals, but the way they do it is Flawed. The sacrifices and nuance they go through and do just to achieve that specific ideal and goal affects how morally ambiguous or not they are.

What annoys me is that most of these people KNOW, but refuse to accept it and continue bringing down other characters because they refuse to accept there's different opinions over something in the show.

Especially with viktor, he is NAUNCED. He is selfish one way or another, he is willing to destroy himself for the sake of making something too far gone work, and not only did that destroy him, but completely result in the death of Sky. And eventually, that is going to destroy his relationship with Jayce too. He refuses to create weapons even if it means as a tool for self defence because he refuses to accept that zaun is not the most stable in terms of aggression, he got mad at Jayce for calling them dangerous when there was a literal riot on the bridge, a scene playing right infront of his eyes. Again, he is rightful to feel protective of his home, but he is ignorant towards certain things too.

I see so many people ignore viktors flaws and wrong doings, did we forget who he's going to become next season or what?? He literally committed a murder wether he wanted to do it or not. which is lowkey kinda hilarious because I don't see people defending Jayce for murdering that child despite the fact that its equally as wrong as Viktors mishap. He.is.not.flawless.

Mel, oh my god. i love Mel with all my heart, shes my everything, but she is a councilor. yes she's focusing on proving her family wrong, yes she wants to make piltover a better, safer place, and I don't think she's completely ignorant towards the undercity's state, but what has she done about it? Now, its not entirely her fault, I know, its all accumulated from Himerdingers ignorance, but that does not change the fact that she is apart of the same body that kept the undercity in its current state with all its problems for generations. She is a manipulator too, she wants things to go her way, wether it was with good intent or not. She pushed for weapons, YES, as a means of self defense, YES as protection from external threats coming from places other than P&Z, but her mother wasn't completely wrong about how weapons will always be used in every way possible, but she finds it difficult to accept such fact. Not to mention the fact that she literally told a zaunite to create a weapon that would be used against zaun.

So no, her being manipulative is not hot (this literally pisses me off the most) , especially not after that scene with hoskel because she BASICALLY called him stupid and belittled him indirectly. Is it true hes not the smartest? Yeah, did she do it to get him under her palm and ended up using him to do something "Good" in the end? Yeah, Is she good at doing it? Yeah, does she look good while doing it? Yeah, but she looks good ALL THE TIME. Manipulation is not what makes her attractive, its a FLAW, an ugly one. So calling Mel attractive ONLY because she's manipulative is mischaracterization at its finest. And I will bring this point again, separate intention from action.

I don't want to get into more details about mel, I will lose myself, but she is FLAWED, shes morally grey, she isn't perfect, just as the other characters in the whole show.

Jayce, he goes through multiple extreme points during his arc, he's quick to decide on things. At some points it could be a good thing, like how he apologized to viktor for saying harsh words to him. But what his major flaw with this trait is the fact that he goes between violent and peaceful multiple times, figuratively AND literally. He was settled with the fact that he doesn't want to harm zaun, infact, he wanted to help them in the first place, but he got influenced, and ended up resorting to violence, he lost himself, and it ended with the loss of a child's life. He didn't want to make weapons before, got influenced, look where it got him now? He is selfish too, and the list goes on.

Though, Its rare to find people who defend Mel and Jayce in this entire fandom, most of the people I've seen who claim to be fans of them tend to do this all the time smh.

And I just know I will start a war as soon as I open my mouth to talk about Vi & Cait. Which is why I won't because this post is long enough and I want to cover other things.

Please keep in mind that I wrote everything as flatly as possible, so the way you understand the things I say may be different from what I initially thought of, I swear on my life I do not hate these characters, Jayce Mel & Viktor are literally my upmost favorite characters of all time.

This is mostly talking about how sometimes you need to separate the intentions from the actions these characters do, because most of the time, actions speak louder than words.

ALL your favorite characters in Arcane and flawed, they have problems, they aren't perfect. And that's what makes each so special, because it makes you wonder how they will clean their footsteps and deal with those said flaws later if they decide to partake the lighter path, or how they will step deeper into the darker one. And even so, they will still be on the grey scale.

By far, Ekko is the only character closest to white if im being honest, and he still isn't perfect.

Arcane fans need to understand their favorite characters in different points of view, not just from their eyes, even if you agree with their doings and find it right.

One big example that i will bring up again, that scene with Mel, Viktor and Jayce discussing the potential misuse of hextech as Viktor dismantles the bomb. You can understand Viktors point of view, but why not Mels too? (& Vice Versa)

Another is the scene when Vi finally gets to see her sister in episode 5, Caitlyn tagging along with her. You finally get to see powder and Vi reunited, you feel content, and then Jinx comes back and gets angry on why Vi is with an enforcer, which is well within her rights considering how they literally killed countless of zaunites and people, but why not understand from Caitlyns side too? Jinx is a wanted criminal, she'd put a building on fire, killed people in the process, stole volatile items with possibly horrible intentions considering what her crimes are.

ANOTHER is the bridge scene with Jayce and Viktor with the riots, Why the fuck is Jayce calling them dangerous infront of viktor??? Hes well within his rights to be mad! But he isn't WRONG, And jayce is under a lot of stress, and viktor is literally going against him by taking shimmer, and God that list never ends.

Literally almost any other scene.

caitlyn Ekko & Vi , Vi and the Council , Vi and Jayce , Jinx and Vi on episode 9 , Silco and Jayce , Mel and Ambessa , Mel and Viktor, Mel and Jayce in some scenes (like when she put him on the council) , singed and Viktor , etc etc etc

Need i say more??

All of these characters are full of layer upon layer of writing, they're all so well written, their intentions, ideals, morals, are all bricks and pipes of what builds them as characters, but their flaws and nuance is the 'glue' of what keeps them standing too. They may have no choice but to do or say those things that they do or say, because if they don't, they will possibly crumble. But that does not mean it gives them a pass, in the end of the day,, murder is still murder, ignorance is still ignorance, manipulation is still manipulation, and etc. They're not all equally as horrible as the other, but that does not make them better qualities, comparing all these issues/problems and completely siding with one thing because you find A to be less horrible than B is not a good start to understanding Arcane or any show with a similar level of writing to it.

as usual, im sorry for any mistakes or if this is uncollected and full of reptitivness, I don't usually correct my rants or anything because they're like... rants... And im very sorry for nagging about certain things, some points may actually be wrong so please don't feel afraid to give advice or correct me over them NICELY. Other than that its really just my opinion, i just wanted to get the "understand characters from different views" & "sEpEraTe InTentIons FroM ActIons" points across.