#his impact was so big that it passed on through generations even after his death

[missnxthingg]

if you're not brazilian and you don't know what ayrton senna means to our country, you're not allowed to talk bad shit about the tributes mclaren & other drivers are doing for him

[flyiingsly]

What will become of us

Part 1

Square : Is this for me ?

Pairing : Dogma x f!jedi!reader

Warnings : Mention of death and injuries, mention of Umbara, a lot of angst, implied depression

Wordcount : 4,9k

Summary : After the treason of Krell and the disaster of Umbara, you couldn’t stop worrying about Dogma and are determinate to go visit him at the GAR prison, without expecting how much of an impact on your life this decision will soon have.  

A/N : Finally ! My last submission for the @clonexreaderbingo !! I'm so glad and proud to have made it to the end ! This event was such a big and important challenge to me, this year was very messy and awful on so many levels of my life, and writing and focusing on it really helped me go through all of this ❤

Thank you so much to the wonderful @ghostofskywalker for organizing this event, it was sooo much fun :D

That one was reaaaally hard to write ! I really got carried away and it actually moved me a lot and gave me a looot of feels. It was starting to be a bit long and I still had things to add, so I decided to turn it into a two chapters story !

(Now that I'm about to post it, I just noticed that the mention to the bingo square is in the second part ... It really didn't catch my attention until now, I hope it still will count :O )

@dystopicjumpsuit if you're still interested, here it is (the beginning at least) :D

Enjoy ❤

The sky around the ship became clouded as it entered the atmosphere of Coruscant. You barely had a conversion with the others for the entire flight, just a few words exchanged here and there, but you could feel that nobody really wanted to talk at all. So you just remained silent.

It was the first time that a journey with the 501st boys was that silent, and it seemed never-ending. You were just coming back from Umbara with what was left of your battalion. That mission was one of the deadliest you’ve ever been part of, and one of the most mentally destructive, both for you and your men.

Everybody was tired and feeling strange, and as you looked around you, they were all staring into space with empty eyes, still processing what happened on that damn planet. There was usually cheering and agitation when a mission ended and that you were on the way back home. But not this time, and you couldn’t blame anyone for not at least try to relax the atmosphere.

You, too, were still processing what happened these last few days.

When the ship finally landed, you helped the medics carrying the wounded to the med bay. You exchanged a long, desperate and full of pain glance with Kix, before he disappeared behind the walls of one of the many emergency rooms of the building. His mission wasn’t over yet, and you couldn’t even help him with that burden.

You looked around you for a moment, completely still in the idle of the agitation, contemplating the endless flow of blue and orange painted amours passing the doors. You were feeling powerless right now, and tears were starting to form in your eyes.

“General …”

You heard a distant voice, but you were so lost in thought that you didn’t even noticed it was coming toward you.

“(Y/n) …” a gentle hand settled down on your shoulder, making you jump in surprise.

“It’s ok, it’s just me ...” It was Rex. He looked so tired, even more than everyone else. You had spent a couple nights together back at the Umbarian base, unable to sleep and crying your eyes out, hidden in a tiny room so none of your men could see you like that, trying to ease your pain and process this mess of a situation, comforting each other as you were always doing when things go wrong. Although this time, it was worse than everything you ever had to go through before.

“General Kenobi just called me, the Jedi council want to see you as soon as possible. I guess that they need explanations … “

You had broken your commlink on the battlefield, so no one was able to contact you directly. He looked at you right in the eyes, you knew he had noticed the tears, you didn’t even try to wipe them, you just answered his look. You didn’t need to talk much to understand each other sometimes, eye contact was enough.

“I have another thing to do before, they’ll have to wait a bit longer.” You briefly replied.

“As you wish”, he whispered. He knew exactly where you were going, it probably wasn’t the wisest thing to do, but he didn’t protest. He knew you needed it.

“But please”, he added, his look turning more concerned, “be careful, (Y/n), and try to be easy on yourself, there’s nothing we could have done to prevent all of that, it’s not your fault.”

His voice was trembling, you could feel the lump in his throat. You both felt terribly guilty about everything, and you knew that he was trying to convince himself as well as convincing you. You badly wanted to hold him in your arms to comfort him right now, but the only thing that you were allowed to do in front of so any peoples was to, as he did before, to put your hand on his shoulder.

“I will, same for you, please, you deserve some peace too.” you answered with emotion filling your voice, nearly whispering.

“Thank you, (Y/n), I hope to see you later.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.”

You gave him a soft smile before leaving the med bay, already planning to visit him at the GAR base right after meeting the council.

But for now, you had something important to do.

***

The GAR prison was a vast building appended to the Coruscant Guards base. When you introduced yourself at the entrance, the two troopers watching the door easily let you in. But once in the reception, explaining that you were here to see a prisoner, you were greeted by a surprised and confused guard, who immediately called his superior.

Jedi usually never come at the prison, even less to see a clone prisoner.

You were well known by the Coruscant Guards, for you had already worked with them on several occasions. So, when a helmetless Commander Fox showed a couple minutes later, he wasn’t that surprised to see you.

It was common knowledge to everyone that had met you that you were very close to your men and having a very unique relationship with them. And needless to say that the news of a member of the famous 501st being imprisoned here had already flied around the other battalions. It was something as unexpected as hard to understand. So Fox quickly connected the dots.

“General (Y/n), it’s an honor to see you here !” he greeted you.

“The honor is for me, Marshall Commander.” you greeted him back with a smile.

He opened his mouth to ask you if you were here to see that particular blue armored trooper, but quickly refrained himself. Nobody exactly knew for now what happened on Umbara and why that prisoner was here outside of “treason”, only rumors had filtered, and he didn’t want to become too intrusive by asking. You stared at each other for a moment, before he finally says something, suddenly feeling uneasy under the gaze of his confused soldier.

“I’ll handle that, thank you”, he spoke toward his men, before addressing you, ”Please, follow me.”

You nodded and both headed to his office. It was the first time you entered that prison, and beside your apparent confidence, that place was making you nervous. Fox didn’t said a word until the door of his office was shut close and he was sit at his desk.

“So, I have been told that you were here to visit a prisoner, right ?”

“Right.”

“Nobody told me about an interrogation taking place today”, he said trying to look oblivious, scrolling on his datapad, avoiding your gaze.

“Actually, I’m not here to lead any interrogation … One of my men, a lieutenant from the 501st, had been incarcerated in this prison a few days ago, and I just … I just need to see him, to make sure that he’s ok, you know … That last mission was particularly grueling, things … happened …” you were trying to find your words without revealing too much details, but you were desperate to shorten that meeting, the only thing you wanted right now was to finally see him again.

“It’s not fair for him to be here” you finally carried on, “I just need to reassure him about his fate, to tell him that his superiors are not gonna let him down and will fight for his reintegration.”

Fox raised his head from his data pad, meeting your worried eyes with a look that couldn’t hide his suspicion about your presence here anymore. You exchanged another long and heavy stare, he clearly was in the middle of some big moral dilemma. He finally let out a sigh, putting down his datapad on his desk.

“He’s not supposed to leave his cell for now, so I can’t lead him at the parlor or the interrogation room, and it’s categorically forbidden for him to receive any visitors. Thes orders emanate from the Jedi Council itself, they cannot be bypassed …”

Your heart sank in your chest, you opened your mouth to speak, you were ready to argue, but Fox stopped you in yours tracks.

“But”, he quickly picked up, “I could be in charge of the reception for one night, and be urgently and unexpectedly called by one of my officer, because, you know, things happen sometimes … Which will cause the entrance to be left completely unsupervised … That could be the perfect occasion for an unauthorized visitor to enter here without being bothered …”

He stopped, looking insistently at you. You weren’t really sure what he was driving at, until he came closer to you above his desk, still looking at you right in the eyes, and added in a sadder tone.

“Look, rumors are going on about what had happened on Umbara. Awful things have been said, news spread fast between soldiers you know. We weren’t precisely informed about why that man is here, but if you say that he didn’t deserves it and since you know more than us, then I trust you. To be honest, he was looking so miserable when he came here that I felt sorry for him. Whatever happened had obviously broke him, and I think that he, indeed, deserve some support. The Council wanted him alone in a whole wing of the prison for a reason that I think I understand now, they didn’t want anyone to communicate with him because the situation must be problematic enough for them to keep it undercover. But that also means that nobody will know if someone come to visit him. On the contrary of the civilian prison, there’s no video monitoring in this building, so I think it’s safe.”

Your eyes immediately started to glimmer when you finally understood his point.

“Thank you so much Fox !” you let out with relief, “I could never thank you enough for that !”

“Well, let’s say that you owe me a couple drinks on our next night out at the 79’.” He let out with a teasing grin while standing up from his chair to head toward the door.

“As many as you want !” you exclaimed, following him in an instant.

***

As you entered the corridor leading to the cells aisle, the silence became crushing. The only thing that was breaking it was the repetitive sound of your footsteps on the cold floor, reverberating on the bare walls. You crossed the empty space without a word, until you arrived in front of a massive door.

“Here we are … You’ll need that to get inside and to go out, don’t forget to bring it back to me before leaving the building. This one cannot open the cell if that was what you were thinking about.” Fox joked, holding a pass card to you.

“It’s the cell number 42, take all the time you’ll need, nobody will come until 1900, he’s not allowed to go at the mess hall neither, so we have to bring him his diner here.”

“Thank you again Fox” you answered with a grateful look.

“No problems ma’am !”

As the Marshall Commander left you alone, you presented the pass in front of the locking pad, allowing the heavy curtain to open in a sudden whoosh sound. Once on the other side, you stayed on the doorstep for a moment, contemplating the disturbing, cold and endless corridor framed with little empty rooms on both side.

The ceiling was low and the luminosity wasn’t very high, making the space even more distressing. You flinched a little when the door suddenly closed behind you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You realized that you were awfully nervous as you felt your heart pounding faster in your chest.

You slowly started to move forward, looking around you to find the number 42 cell. It soon appeared into your field of vision, and you reached for it with a faster pace, your anxiety level increasing again and the fear of what you were about to find on the other side of the thick transparent door growing in your mind.

When you finally arrived in front of it, your heart instantly broke. Here he was, sat on the floor at the foot of his narrow bed, curled up on himself with his head settled on top of his bended knees, buried between his folded arms.

Seeing him like that made you want to cry, a mix of intense pity, sadness and despair hit you like a wave. You clenched your fists. He never deserved to be treated like that, you though. All you wanted to do right now was to break through that stupid door and take him into your arms to comfort him, to tell him that everything will be alright.

But you couldn’t.

So you just closed your eyes, took a deep breath and did your best to regain your composure, before reopening them and addressing him gently.

“Dogma ?” you let out in a soft, interrogative tone.

Your words were nearly a whisper, but still loud enough for him to hear you. His head slowly rose from his knees, and his eyes widened at your sight. You noticed that he must have been crying recently and probably was severely sleep deprived by the bags under his eyes, making you feel even worse for him.

“Ge … General ?” His voice was weak and trembling. “What are you doing here ? I thought I wasn’t allowed to see anyone …” He stood up with difficulty, nearly stumbling on his feet.

“I know” you breathed out, as he came closer, placing himself in front of you, “but let’s say I got a little help to bypass the problem.” you added with a smile.

A sudden expression of confusion crossed his face.

“Why would you do that ?” he asked.

“I needed to make sure that you were ok, I wanted to see you again, you know, I … I was worried about you.”

He was, indeed, looking miserable, and you could see by the sudden watering of his pupils that your concern was touching him deeply. He lowered his head, trying to hide his pain.

“Thank you … You didn’t had to, nobody care about murderers and traitors …”

“I care … What’s happening to you is not fair, and I needed you to know that I’m not gonna let you down, I will fight to get you out of here and to have you rehabilitated. I’m never leaving any of my men behind, you’re not alone Dogma.”

He couldn’t refrain his tears anymore, and he raised his hands to his face in an unsuccessful attempt to cover it.

“I will never get out of here ! The only think that I deserve right now is to be court marshalled and properly executed. The Jedi are never gonna let that pass.”

You throat tightened, tears raising at the corner of your own eyes. You wanted to stay strong, but it was becoming harder and harder not to fall apart.

“Please, don’t ever say that, it will not happen, I will never authorize it.” your voice was soft but determined, and you were putting all of your remaining energy into preventing it from cracking, “Listen, you did your best, you took the right decision …”

“But I nearly made you shot ! And all for nothing ! I acted like a fool, following orders blindly, and for what ? I nearly executed my own brothers ! You should hate me, all of you ! I’m a monster !” he harshly cut you, almost screaming with rage and frustration, his hands curling into fists against his distorted face.

The roughness of his words took you aback, you could hear his suffering piercing through his voice, and you had no idea what to answer him at first, your mouth staying open but no sound escaping it.

You stayed silent for a moment, searching for the right words, before swallowing hard and trying to articulate something.

“Dogma …” you murmured, “I don’t hate you, none of us do …”

His whole body was shaking, and you could hear the muffled sob he was trying to contain, but he wasn’t moving otherwise, his body like paralyzed with pain. You took a deep breath before going on again.

“Please, don’t be that hard on yourself, you did your best, you did what you thought was right, and nobody can blame you for that. I don’t want you to end up executed, I will never allow that, I promise you, I will plead your case in front of the Jedi Council. You’re a good soldier Dogma, and a good man, whatever mistake you’ve made, it’s hard enough to bear for you, I know your guilt is already enough of a burden, I don’t want you to be punished more than that. I’ve said it and I’ll say it again, you did your best, you deserve to live, and as any other of my men, you’re more than just a number to me, and I will do whatever I can to help you overcome all of this.”

The gentleness of your voice and your reassuring words soon made him calm down. His fists slowly unclenched and relaxed, his hands ending up slipping from his face as his sobbing turned into a silent whimper.

He was still not looking at you, but you knew by the twitching of his eye leads that he wanted to, but probably was too ashamed to do it.

“Thank you …” he shyly mumbled, still sniffling.

“It’s okay, you’re gonna be safe, I promise you” you muttered, absent mindlessly settling your hand on the clear door.

He caught a glimpse of your gesture from the corner of his eye, and it made him raise his head, surprised, his dark brown orbs finally meeting yours.

You stared at each other for a few seconds. The way he looked at you was so intense that it made your heart skips a bit. Then his gaze slowly lowered to land on the spot where your skin was touching the door. And without a warning, he raised one of his hand and gently placed it on the other side, his large palm and strong fingers entirely covering yours.

You saw him blink a few time, like if he was just realizing what he was doing, a faint shade of red appearing on his cheeks, but neither of you could remove your respective hand from the surface, too afraid to end this special moment and break the connection.

His body warmth was irradiating through the transparent material despite his thickness, and for a moment, you got lost in it, wondering about that strange feeling of being so close and so apart from each other at the same time.

***

When you showed up at the Jedi Temple later, you were having a knot in your stomach. You had the feeling that you were about to go through an excessively long interrogation. You were the only jedi to have witnessed what happened on Umbara, so you were a very important element for the understanding of the situation.

You were right.

The council spent hours questioning you on every little detail of the events. You did your best to stand for Dogma, to make them understand that it was the best thing to do, and that his action was a courageous and selfless one. But the council only listened to you, never showing what they were really thinking about it. They just sat here without a word, while you were pleading his case.

When you finally get out of the Council Chamber, you were feeling exhausted and empty. It took so long that the night was now upon Coruscant. The worst part was that you had absolutely no idea about what was going to happen now, and you couldn’t do anything more about it.

You sigh when you catch the view of the military prison while standing at the temple’s forecourt. You were supposed to go take some well-deserved sleep, but you wanted to visit the 501st before. You just needed to be surrounded by your men, to spend time with them, to talk to them, and to show them your undefective support. You were all in this together, after all.

Without even looking back, you go down the temple stairs and headed toward the GAR building, disappearing into the darkness.

***

As you were about to leave the prison on your first visit, Dogma asked you if you were going to come back again. And of course, you promised him that you will as soon as possible.

At that time, the Jedi Council had decided to not assign you to any new mission until the situation has been clarified. They needed to know how and by what means General Krell ended up betraying the Order and the Republic, how nobody was able to notice it sooner, and if anyone else among the jedi or the clones could have been or could still be complicit in the treason.

It was a really big deal both for the Order and for the GAR, and as you were a key witness, they needed you to stay near, both to protect you and to watch you, and you found yourself assigned to stay on Coruscant, while another jedi was temporarily affected to assist General Skywalker with the 501st.

They were still conducting interrogations among the clones, soldiers as well as officers, and you have already been auditioned several times yourself after meeting the Council, by the GAR committee of inquiry and even by the Chancellor himself.

But things weren’t going as easily as they should have. The whole situation seemed to be dragging on, and the pressure and suspicion that were weighting upon on you were harder and harder to bear. Even if the council wasn’t saying it out loud, you could feel that they were doubting you.

You were stuck on Coruscant, far from your battalion and worrying about your men, unable to help them when you should have been by there side to support them, and it was making you sick.

You had absolutely no idea about how long all of this was going to last, and the only thing you had been allowed to do was to helplessly wait until things could finally move on a little. It felt like a punishment to you. Maybe it was a way for the Council to test your nerves and patience, you couldn’t tell at this point.

It was hard and uncertain times for you. You could feel the distance growing between you and your fellow jedi every time you were trying to reach for one of them, to engage a conversation, to seek their company.

Something had changed in the way they were perceiving you, you knew it, but you couldn’t blame them, despite feeling lonely and outcasted. In all your spare time, you started to question yourself a lot, thinking about the purpose of this war, of the Order, even about your place in all of this, wandering if all of these sacrifices really were necessary, and if justice was finally going to come someday.

The Council eventually ended up assigning you to help Master Jocasta in the archives department, asking you to be patient, simply telling you that their investigation was progressing, although they never gave you much more details about it.

You kept asking them about the fate of the prisoner, but they just told you that it wasn’t the first priority right now, and that they’ll treat his case later.

You did your best to look as impassive and unaffected as possible during all that time, to not let your emotions and worries show too much to anyone, feigning to resiliently handle the situation. But on the inside, you were starting to grow more and more tired and desperate every day, and as much as you appreciated to work with Master Jocasta, you were badly craving to leave Coruscant and go back on missions again.

Since the beginning of the war, you had never spent as much consecutive time on that planet, and mostly, you had never been separated from your battalion for so long.

Of course, you always stayed in touch with them, no matter how far they were send to, but still, it was impossible for you not to worry about them. So every time they were back on Coruscant, you took the chance to spend as much time as possible with them.

Nothing was the same without you as they say, and nothing was the same without them. Despite all the hard times shared together, there were also moments of pure joy, fun and complicity, and you were missing those deeply.

You were missing each one of those clones very deeply, in fact.

That’s how your daily appointments at the prison began. Nobody knew except for Fox and Rex, to who you were regularly giving news about his soldier. You were extremely lucky to have the Marshall Commander on your side, you could have never done that without his help, at all. That man was a blessing, even if it had costed you so many drinks already. You’ll be forever owing him that favor.

Your routine was every day the same : you were leaving the Jedi temple at dawn, entering the prison by a hidden service door known only by the guards, and sneaking into Fox’s office to retrieve the pass before heading to Dogma’s cell.

Sometimes the Commander was here in his office to greet you and give it to you, sometimes he wasn’t and you were picking it up by yourself. He was trusting you blindly, as long as the pass was back in his drawer the moment you left. To be honest, you were a Jedi General, you were basically having the authorization to access to any office in the building if you really wanted to.

The only thing that was ultimately forbidden to you was to open one of these cells by yourself without the permission and supervision of the Senate or the Jedi Council.

Since you were visiting him, you could see that Dogma was in better shape than the first time you saw him. He was slowly regaining a bit of hope, and even if guilt was still hitting him hard sometimes, he started to understand that what he did was the only possible outcome at the time, it was going to happen anyway, whether by Rex’s hand or his own.

It seemed like your presence was the only glimpse of joy given to him in the never-ending state of isolation he was forced into, and witnessing his face enlightening and a warm smile growing on his lips as soon as you were showing in front of his cell was making your heart melt every time.

Every one of those encounters always ended up the same way : before leaving, you laid your hand against the door, and Dogma put his on the other side, in front of yours.

It was the gesture that comforted him the most the first time you came, and on the second visit, it was him who initiated it. He didn’t need to ask you, for you immediately understood what it meant when he settled his hand on the glassy surface, answering his move without a word.

The truth was, you needed comfort too, you were feeling absolutely down staying at the Temple, and you were even starting to lose track of time when remaining there for too long without going outside. The high and thick stone walls of the sacred building became more and more oppressive and started to feel less and less like home to you. All you wanted to do was to escape from here as much as you could, even if it was a very hard thing to accept.

In this context, visiting him soon became the only thing that was giving you a reason to keep waiting and to go on without losing your mind. It turned into the time of the day that you were waiting for the most, a very special and intimate moment that you wouldn’t miss for anything in the world.

You were opening more and more to each other, sharing more and more personal things at each occasion, to the point that you came to knew each other nearly better than anyone else ever. A very strong bond built up between the two of you. Something that emerged from loneliness and concern at first, but quickly evolved into a sincere and fond connection. You could both feel it, even if you weren’t understanding the true nature of it yet.

As the days passed by, you started to badly wish that you could cross the prohibition and open that door, to finally be able to touch him for real, to feel the warmth of his body and the contact of his skin against yours without any more filters or boundaries.

You weren’t supposed to allow yourself to get attached as a Jedi, but deep inside of you, you knew that it was too late, and this since a long time already.

But little do you knew that you weren’t the only one to feel like that.

[mindibindi]

Was it Perfect? No. Was it Joyous? Yes.

Okay, I did a bunch of shitposting yesterday but now it's time to collect some coherent thoughts on what I liked and didn't about "The Giggle", the Doctors' bi-generation and RTD's HEA.

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Donna: I would’ve liked Donna to have a little more to do in the final ep. She just worked out the arpeggio thing and followed the Doctor round trying to have earnest conversations with him. When she was sat with the Doctor and the Toymaker, I kept thinking she was gonna insert herself into the game and insist she be dealt in too. Instead, it became another case of supernatural male genius vs supernatural male genius. Maybe this is me being greedy though. Because the last ep was ALL DT and CT and the whole anniversary season has been very focused on Donna and the Doctor. They had to make room somewhere for a fabulous villain (which he was), a new Doctor (also fab) and the UNIT ensemble (fab-est of all), so I guess that meant a little less Donna.

Donna did have some great moments, including annihilating those creepy puppets (which made me lol), meeting Mel and refusing to let the Doctor die alone. I do think Donna should’ve been the one to lust after 15 (much like she did when meeting Captain Jack), but maybe this older, settled version of Donna is less thirsty. As for UNIT, no doubt she will be fired regularly but then promptly rehired because she’s so indispensable (and beloved). Best of all, I love the idea of her, Shirley, Mel and Kate going out for post-work drinks while Donna’s two husbands wait at home, tapping their watches and wondering where their ginger chatterbox has gotten to.

Male Parthenogenesis: Now, RTD knows his DW lore far better than I do and apparently there is some precedent for this. But I still say the metacrisis from ep 1 could have been used to better effect in this episode, with Donna essentially healing the Doctor with her excess regeneration energy and Rose creating the new Doctor with her share of the metacrisis/regeneration energy. Because, modern understandings of gender and deep-dive fan knowledge aside, Doctor Who pretty much revolves around the idea of male parthenogenesis, man birthing man, passing on history, tradition, power, experience and greatness. Socioculturally, asexuality is fairly unfamiliar to us, but we are all indoctrinated with patriarchal, heteronormative narratives from birth. And historically, men have expressed their fear and envy of the power and potential of women/pregnant people by attempting to steal it for themselves, control creation myths and birth male gods and monsters. All the while, they completely disavowed (even denigrated) the role women/pregnant people have played in birthing this world. Through the lens of heteronormativity, regeneration offers men and boys eternal power and godlike creativity. So yeah, I would’ve liked a grown woman/mother and a trans girl just coming into her power as a woman to get a little of that regeneration action that usually belongs to the boys (with the exception of 13). Not because women and birth parents are defined by this biological function but because the male urge to own and control birth, creation and reproduction still has very real-world impacts for girls, women, enbys and trans people.  

Bi-generation: So. The big question is: Does bi-generation diffuse the power and pathos of THE Doctor? Yes. Does it follow that this is a bad thing? No. Not necessarily, not in my mind. I am not a fan of showrunners rewriting known history for shock value or fan service, but I’m not sure this is either. I understand the argument that there is power and meaning in the idea of death and rebirth, letting go and moving on, changing and learning with experience. But for all of that to be owned and embodied by one usually male/male presenting person and played by a popular, powerful cis-het male actor is a problem embedded in this show from the get. NuWho has consistently made an effort to alleviate the inherent power imbalance built into the format, distributing the incredible power of the Doctor amongst a community of extra/ordinary human beings. Some showrunners have been able to do this better than others. That said, we’ve also had a good long stint of the Doctor being a singular, tortured genius who no one quite understands, no one can ever really equal. Whatever gifts companions and their families bring, the Doctor will always be bigger, older, wiser, eternal. But, through the magic of bi-generation, his power can be shared, his centrality dispersed, his reach limited, his experience idiosyncratic, and his knowledge discrete.

Over the years, the Doctor has accrued a lot of trauma and tragedy and suffering and longing, all by virtue of this incredible power. This burden was never been more wetly portrayed than by DT so it’s fitting that he be the one to release both the power and the burden of the sad, wet, lonely Timelord by SHARING IT, by becoming plural rather than singular. It may not feel satisfying, partially because it feels unfamiliar. The trope of the lone tortured genius is recognisable and relatable. We know it well, from so many narratives. Personally, I can’t imagine Ncuti Gatwa as a lone tortured genius. I want him to have a new joyous start. And hey, if you miss the tortured Doctor then 15 has all of time and space in which to once again start accruing trauma and tragedy. But I think it’s good, and time, for 9, 10, 11, 12, 13 and 14 to drop their load and come down to earth. No longer a god, an avenging angel, an objective overseer, but essentially, a human being. Which is kinda what he/she/they wanted to be all along. This IS the death of one version of this show, one version of this character, but it isn’t being offered without regeneration and rebirth right there on the horizon.                   

Happily Ever After: RTD is not like other showrunners. He’s a bold and marvellous beast who isn’t afraid to change things up, especially when they’re not working or have outlived their usefulness. We’re often told that happy endings are trite, trivial, insignificant, unrealistic. Drama, tragedy, sorrow and suffering: that’s where all the weight and meaning of life lies. And look, RTD can write tragedy and pathos as well if not better than the best of them. He could have given us “Journey’s End” or “The End of Time” redux. He could have given twisted and complicated and harrowing. He chose not to. Because, unlike SO MANY SHOWRUNNERS, RTD knows when to write an ending, when to resolve tension, when to heal wounds. It’s common practice, especially in the American television industry, to just…never end, never resolve, never stop, never state, never land. To just flog a creative horse until it drops dead. (At least, this was the television I grew up with; streaming services have altered this model somewhat.)

Doctor Who is exactly the kind of intellectual property that could’ve (and could still under Disney) fall victim to the capitalistic urge for moremoremoremoremoremoremore, despite the fact that such endlessness eventually exhausts creativity and, with it, audience interest. A capitalist never wants the revenue stream to end. But a real writer, a true creator is bold enough to know where to place a well-timed full-stop. In my opinion, RTD read the room and wrote an ending. An ending that the show and the world needed. An ending that shared power. An ending that celebrated ordinary humanity. An ending that healed trauma and prioritised love. An ending that still allows for new life, new potential, new discoveries, new structures, new understandings, and new joy. All of that is totally on-brand for RTD. Those themes of multiplicity, humanity, healing, love and possibility pervade the 60th anniversary specials from beginning to end. They were built into the fabric of each episode. And they’re also the very essence of Doctor Who.     

[lovclies]

[ halle bailey, cis woman , she/her ] - it looks like zuri morgan is late to class once again . how do they expect to get their degree in dance by skipping class ? it’s a wonder that the twenty year old made it to their sophomore year . then again , i heard that they were + reliable which may give them a pass with professors , but they are also - self centered so maybe not . i heard they were blasting lilith by halsey before class . all i know is that they remind me of muffled screams into a pillow, unread text messages, watching the sun rise through her window after an all nighter.

           STATISTCS   |   WANTED  CONNECTIONS   |   PINTEREST

background  :

     tw  death   the  youngest  of  two , zuri  was  born  as  the  second  child  of  a  loving  and  hardworking  couple  who didn’t  have  much  money  but  still  tried  their  hardest  to  provide  for  their  children  the  best  life  they  could  get . the  father , however , suffered  an  accident  during  his  job  as  a  fireman  that  he  didn’t  survive . zuri  was  a  young  kid  when  this  very  unfortunate  event  happened  to  the  morgan’s , leaving  her  with  only  a  few  memories  of  times  when  her  family  was  complete , due  to  her  young  age .

     their  mother  was  left  to  raise  the  children  on  her  own , it  wasn’t  an  easy  job , to  be  working  as  nurse  and  give  a  good  life  to  her  kids . she  did  it  anyway , being  the  strong  woman  she  was . it  wasn’t  a  secret  for  zuri  and  her  brother  how  much  their  mother  had  to  handle , it  doesn’t  need  a  lot  to realize  that  conciliate  grief , work , motherhood , bills , etc , requires  too  much  from  one  person  to  handle  on  her  own . zuri  understood  that  from  an  early  age , which  helped  to  build  the  good  relationship  she  always  had  with  the  family .

personality  :

     basically , zuri  is  very  straightforward  and  blunt , can’t  keep  her  mouth  shut  even  when  she  should . taking  one  second  to  think  before  speaking  ?   not  possible  for  her . she’s  that  person  that  once  you  know  her , will  try  to  have  an  impact  in  your  life  unconsciously . she  has  a  big  personality , is  very  stubborn , opinionated  and  fiery , but  also  a  humble  person , spontaneous , vivacious  and  free - spirited . and  when  someone  gets  in  her  life ,  won’t  ever  want  to  let  them  go .      owns  an  explosive  temper  but  her  outbursts  never  last  long . unless  something  severe  happened , she’ll  soon  forget  it  and  won’t  hold  a  grudge .      zuri  doesn’t  have  any  patience  for  when  people  make  situations  unnecessarily  complicated , she’s  direct  and  practical , every  time  the  girl  has  something  on  her  mind  she’ll  just  spill  it  out , if  there’s  something  bothering  her  with  someone , she’ll  go  to  the  person  and  deal  with  it . hates  games , overly  dramatic  situations , manipulation , etc .      very  independent , likes  to  think  she  doesn’t  need  anyone  for  anything . and  absolutely  hates  to  be  restricted  in  any  way .      tends  to  avoid  anything  that  seems  like  a  waste  of  time  for  her , which  can  go  from  simple  things  such  as  a  night  out  to  relationships . spending  time  and  energy  with  meaningless  things  is  an  actual  fear  of  her .       the  type  of  person  that  will  be  down  for  whatever ! you  wanna  go  to  a  party ? that’s  your  girl . you  wanna  skinny  dip  3am  in  the  winter ? call  her . wanna  go  to  a  road  trip  in  the  middle  of  the  night  having  work  in  the  morning ? she’ll  do  it . generally  a  fun  person  to  be  around .       zuri’s  bad  with  serious  talks  especially  if  they’re  difficult  and  involve  feelings / emotions , she  prefers  to  just  avoid  it .

      she’s  a  pretty  trustworthy  person , would  never  go  around  spilling  secrets  or  talking  behind  someone’s  back , but  since  she’s  someone  who , most  of  the  time , doesn’t  really  think  before  doing  something , she  can  hurt  people  around  her  without  realizing  it .  and  she’ll  only  later  see  that  her  actions  may  have  caused  harm  to  someone , because  that’s  genuinely  not  her  intention .      also  tends  to  avoid  thinking  about  the  consequences  of  her  actions  because  it’s  just  easier  to  not  deal  with  it  at  the moment  and  leave  the  problems  for  her  future  self , in  fact , most   problems  she  gets  herself  into , could  probably  be  avoided  if  she  started  to  think  before  taking  actions .

[themovieblogonline]

Remembering John Cassaday: The Visionary

In the world of comic book artistry, few names carry as much weight as John Cassaday. The man was a legend—a true visionary who brought some of Marvel Comics’ most iconic stories to life with his stunning artwork. His passing at the age of 52 has left a massive void in the industry, but his impact on the comic book world will continue to inspire future generations of artists and readers alike. Known for his sleek, cinematic style, Cassaday didn’t just draw comics; he crafted immersive visual experiences that stuck with you long after you turned the last page. The Legacy of a Comic Genius John Cassaday’s body of work speaks for itself. He was the creative force behind some of Marvel Comics’ most celebrated titles, including Astonishing X-Men and Captain America. His art didn’t just complement the story—it elevated it. Whether it was Wolverine slicing through Sentinels or Cyclops standing tall as a leader, Cassaday’s ability to capture raw emotion in his characters made him a standout talent. And let’s not forget Planetary, the mind-bending sci-fi masterpiece he co-created with writer Warren Ellis. The series isn't just a hit with readers; it's a multiple Eisner Awards winner, solidifying Cassaday’s status as one of the best in the business. His detailed, yet minimalist style—combining powerful imagery with clean lines—was nothing short of iconic. He made you feel like you were watching a big-budget movie, all while flipping through a comic book. A Lasting Impact on Marvel Comics Cassaday’s influence on Marvel Comics cannot be overstated. His work on Astonishing X-Men redefined the franchise, breathing new life into characters like Cyclops, Wolverine, and Emma Frost. Collaborating with writer Joss Whedon, the duo gave fans a run of X-Men stories that still holds up today. Cassaday’s illustrations had a way of capturing both the grandeur of superhero life and the more intimate, human moments. You know, like when Wolverine’s rage would bubble up, or when Kitty Pryde faced off against the towering Danger Room sentinel. Cassaday was there to make sure every panel hit with the force of a mutant-powered freight train. But he didn’t just stop with Marvel. His work with other publishers, including I Am Legion and The Lone Ranger, showcased his versatility as an artist, able to tackle a variety of genres with finesse. A Tragic Loss at 52 The news of John Cassaday’s passing sent shockwaves through the comic book community. He was just 52, a tragically young age for someone so immensely talented. His sister, Robin, shares the heartbreaking news on social media. She reveals that Cassaday had been admitted to the ICU in New York just days before. While the exact cause of death hasn’t been confirmed, it was noted that his brain was the main concern, even though his organs and heart were functioning normally. Comic book creators and fans alike flooded social media with tributes to Cassaday, praising his unmatched artistic talents and offering condolences to his family and friends. As one of the industry’s leading lights, his death is a huge loss, but his legacy lives on through the incredible work he left behind. Final Thoughts: An Artist Who Shaped a Generation John Cassaday wasn’t just a comic artist—he was a storyteller, a visionary, and a trailblazer. From his contributions to Marvel Comics to his groundbreaking work on Planetary, Cassaday’s art helped define what modern comic books could be. His passing is a tragic loss, but his work will continue to inspire artists, writers, and readers for years to come. If you’ve never picked up a John Cassaday comic, do yourself a favor—grab a copy of Astonishing X-Men or Planetary and prepare to be blown away. The man was a master, and we were lucky to have him.

[arafinweanappreciation]

Literally no one asked for this, but also I was inspired to finally write this all out because I've seen a couple of other posts about this cross my dash. So. I said that one day I would write a post about the parallels between Finrod and Turgon and their stories.

That day has come.

First off, they were born in the same year. If you look at the (sparse and rather unreliable) data we have on timelines for when other elves who are considered of the same generation are born, this is VERY uncommon. The only time it happens again is Aredhel and Galadriel, iirc, and I haven't had the time or energy to unpack any narrative parallels they might have as of yet.

Then, of course, we have very little information about their time in Valinor except that they were besties. Which makes sense. We DO know, however, that they both fell in love with Vanyarin women, Elenwe and Amarie, and lost them during the Flight of the Noldor. Elenwe dying during the crossing of the Helcaraxe, and Finrod leaving Amarie behind. Finrod and Amarie were seperated because she didn't follow him, and Turgon and Elenwe were seperated because she did.

After arriving in Beleriand, Finrod builds Minas Tirith and Turgon builds Vinyamar. It's been a while since I've reread the silm, so I actually don't remember a whole lot of details about Vinyamar. But my big point here is that Minas Tirith is on Tol Sirion on the river Sirion, and Vinyamar faced the sea. Both cities were strongly associated with bodies of water. There's also an interesting contrast in their fates. While Vinyamar was never touched by Morgoth or his servants, Minas Tirith eventually become Tol-in-Gaurhoth, the fortress of Sauron. Vinyamar was also an important location for Tuor, and Tol-in-Gaurhoth became an important location for Beren, both of whom ended up marrying elvish princesses of hidden realms.

Of course, there's the most obvious connection, with them both being given a dream by Ulmo instructing them to build hidden strongholds, after which they leave their original cities to build new ones. They also both have a tendency to take in and befriend mortal men. Húrin and Huor for Turgon and Beor, Barahir, and Andreth for Finrod. They were also both rescued from almost certain death in battle by said mortal men

And then we've got the stories of their deaths and the ruin of their cities. While these don't match up chronologically, they do have a LOT of parallels.

They both took in a nephew after one of their siblings died. Orodreth and Maeglin. Orodreth is trying desperately to fill Finrod's role, while Maeglin wants to undermine Turgon. Both stories heavily involve the influence of a mortal man who was close to the king. Also, Maeglin's and Turin's influence over Turgon and Orodreth, respectively, cause the kings to ignore the advice of even their most trusted advisors against their better judgement. Ultimately, both are destroyed.

Their deaths are also, like, not quite mirror images of each other. Finrod, who spent his time in Beleriand making friends, died with only one other person by his side, in a dungeon deep underground, because he was trying to help along what becomes one of the greatest love stories in Middle Earth. Turgon, who spent all his time in Beleriand hiding away, died surrounded by people who refused to leave him, in a high tower, because of Maeglin's love turned to darkness. They were both betrayed by family members they had taken in (Celegorm, Curufin, and Maeglin), and died in the towers they built.

Turgon's legacy is deeply entwined in the fate of Middle Earth through Idril and her descendants, while Finrod ultimately leaves very little behind. However, they both have massive lasting impacts on the Edain of Numenor. Especially the royal family, with the Kings of Numenor, Arnor, and Gondor being descended from Turgon, and the Ring of Barahir being passed down as an heirloom and symbol of the kingship (at least when they want to be associated with the eldar).

I don't know if there's more narrative significance to this than I'm seeing at the moment, I just noticed this after rereading one time and couldn't stop thinking about it. It's one of the reasons I love their relationship so much.

[pippenpaddlopsicopolisthethird]

Top 5 anime you think are criminally underrated!

This is a really good question, and it was VERY difficult to keep myself to only 5. These are all anime that I think deserve a much wider viewership! (Plus five more!)

I ended up spending waaayyyy longer on this than I thought, I can’t imagine how much I would have written if you’d said top 10. I can literally talk about anime forever. Here’s some I wholeheartedly recommend.

1. Shojo Kageki Revue Starlight (Action, drama, romance)

This is my newest love, as of yesterday, when I binged the whole thing. The best way I can describe it is by mashing up other anime. Take Revolutionary Girl Utena, iron out about three layers of metaphor, and trim off all of the dark themes related to the Rose Bride. Then throw it in a blender with Madoka Magica and Love Live!, add half a cup of Gay Concentrate, and serve up the result: A character-driven drama about girls at a performing arts school, who settle their differences in magical-girl-fantasy duels styled as impossibly gorgeous theatrical stage-combat musical numbers. Beyond the flash and high concept, there’s a well-written cast, solid emotional core, and really engaging plot.

2. The Eccentric Family (Drama, comedy)

This show is my favorite genre of fantasy; mythical creatures living in the modern world, right under humans’ noses. In this series, humans only know tanuki as the cute little raccoon-dogs, but tanuki are really sentient shapeshifters whose goals are to outsmart the humans who live in the cities, pester the tengu who rule the heavens, live a life of freedom and trickery, and not end up on the inside of a hunter’s trap. The story follows a family of a mother and four sons whose widely-respected father was killed to end up in a human’s hot pot, as they try to enjoy their lives, live up to his imposing reputation, and unravel the increasingly suspicious circumstances of his death.

I have called this one “deceptively light-hearted” when describing it. My friend got halfway through the first season and came back to me with the verdict, “consider me fucking deceived.” This show has weight and does not pull its emotional punches, but neither does it ever stumble into becoming grimdark. Its worldbuilding is solid and the characters are all fantastically developed. Plus I wrote a whole post about one of the main antagonists(?) who I hadn’t even mentioned here.

3. Dennou Coil (Mystery, sci-fi)

Dennou Coil is a masterclass in worldbuilding, in my opinion. It’s a near-future sci-fi world, basically if Google Glass had taken off and become as common as cell phones are today. Many people don’t see the real world, they see the virtual textures of the world as they’re rendered through the glasses. Kids in one city have learned to mess around with codes, collecting tradeable fragments that break off the edges where the system glitches, chasing viruses that hide in pockets of obselete code in abandoned areas of the city where the software doesn’t get updated often. They spend their time after school saving virtual pets from being accidentally deleted by the city’s antivirus, trading tall tales about kids who get caught by the antivirus and get their glasses bricked, and spinning urban legends about ghosts waiting just behind anything that’s visibly rendered, waiting to steal kids when they least expect it. Every detail they introduce is critical to laying the foundation for the mystery that forms the show’s plot.

Everything about this world feels real in a way I’ve never seen in a sci-fi anime. It’s all grounded in a clear understanding of programming, and lives by show-don’t-tell. The stakes aren’t life-and-death; the kids tagging glitches like graffiti to distract the city’s antivirus software are only at risk of ruining their glasses, at least at first. The plot and escalation is perfectly-paced, and the mystery is so satisfying to piece together as it unfolds.

4. ID:Invaded (Sci-fi, action, thriller, murder mystery)

This show is like Psycho-Pass meets Silence of the Lambs. To catch a serial killer, you need to think like a killer, and nobody does that better than killers. A contraption called an “id well” can manifest an uncaught killer’s unconscious mind as a bizarre, unique, deadly terrain driven by stream-of-consciousness, and convicted murderers turned “detectives” dive into these wells to try to solve the mystery each well presents and discern the identity of other killers before they can strike again.

This show is a tightly-written, perfectly paced, edge-of-your-seat thriller. The two layers of mysteries inside and outside of the wells balance high-octane, big-screen action with tight, tense realism. Plus the soundtrack is an absolute banger.

5. Ping Pong the Animation (drama, sports)

Imagine if I told you that there was a show that, in 11 episodes, unpacked how patterns of relationships are repeated across generations, how the tradeoff between talent, practice, and who you are outside of your achievements can scar the spirits of kids, and what it feels like to wrestle with the tension between your core understanding of yourself and how others expect you to be. Imagine if I told you that every major character goes through massive restructurings of their fundamental sense of self and how they see others, and that every single arc comes to a well-rounded and satisfying end. Imagine if the animation style pushed the limits of both realism and absurdity, landing somewhere between rotoscoping and caricature, pushing the impact of action and stretching the character’s expressiveness without betraying faces that are animated like real human people. Imagine that it had a dub so fantastic that it sits next to Baccano and Cowboy Bebop in my mind, shows where the cast threw themselves into their roles with their whole hearts.

Now imagine that I told you that this story is told in the context of high schoolers playing ping pong, and that it’s arguably the best show I’ve ever seen. Go watch this show.

[iwouldntstopforaredlight]

Okay so here’s the Ted Lasso theory that no one asked for that I just can’t seem to let go of: I think the crux of this season is Ted’s fear that he is becoming his father.

Wow I know that seems like it comes out of nowhere, but hear me out. The show has been showing Ted’s drinking increasing slowly but steadily as the series continues. It’s been subtle, but there have been moments where it’s felt important that Ted’s drinking be noticed by the viewer. It felt as though this peaked in this episode (2x07), an inordinate division of time seemed to be allocated to the scene of Ted in the pub drinking that second beer; relying on alcohol to soften a hard day. But this wasn’t the only mention of Ted’s drinking in 2x07. While the reference was hidden within a typical folksie Ted story that leaves the audience unsure of how seriously they should take it, he mentions passing out after drinking too much beer while watching citizen Kane during his story about two day old stew. Now, I don’t know if I’m reading too much into this BUT if you look at coach Beard’s face in that moment, he doesn’t look amused like he usually does at Teds antics. He almost looks concerned. Unusual for someone who’s generally shown to be so very in tune with what Ted means.

But what does this mean? Well, I think it might be connected to Ted’s therapy and his father.

Now, we don’t know too much about Ted’s dad. All we know is that he died when Ted was 16, and that he used to take Ted to a sports bar with him every weekend until he passed away. It’s really not too much to go on. So what else do we know? Well we know that Ted hates therapists, he doesn’t believe they genuinely care about/are able to help their patients—so much so that he becomes enraged when simply talking to Dr. Sharon, something very out of character for him. We also know he goes above and beyond to make people feel good and heard when he speaks to them, so much of his charm seems to be his desire to share a genuine connection with everybody he meets. Also interestingly in this episode was his very vocal dedication to ‘never give up on anything’. And this wasn’t the first time we’ve heard this mantra. He mentioned it when he agreed to the divorce with Michelle—one of the most emotional scenes we’ve seen of Ted to date. But how does this all tie together?

‘Believe’ he tells the team. ‘I believe in believe.’ To believe so passionately in belief, who did you have to see fail without it? What did you have to go through with only belief to get you through?

Well … and bear with me here … I think when he was 16, Ted’s father may have committed suicide.

It just seems understandable that in the event of his Dad’s death in this way, Ted felt abandoned and let down by his father. It would even make sense of his anger towards therapy if his father (and/or he himself as a child/his mother) received therapy that Ted views as having had no impact on them; let down when he needed it most by help that didn’t help. ‘I promise you, there is something worse out there than being sad, and that is being a l o n e and being sad.’ How many times have we heard Ted utter the words ‘I appreciate you’. Over and over again, never allowing anyone to doubt their importance or their contribution. And what did he say to Beard: “I love meeting people's moms. It’s like reading an instruction manual as to why they're nuts”.

I even think this may be the cause of his panic attacks too. Now I know the first panic attack we see Ted having was to do with his divorce, but what we (and Ted) heard underneath ‘let it go’ (a song from a CHILDS movie) was not Michelle’s voice, but Henry’s … the son he feels he is abandoning. Now if he still views himself as having abandoned his son, and his drinking is increasing it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to imagine he’s beginning to see similarities between himself and his father. I know I’m making quite a big assumption about his fathers drinking habits, but in all honesty, who else would take a 10 year old child to a sports bar EVERY weekend? (I think there may be a ‘father was a coach’ (… Led Tasso anyone?) element to it too—the darts, the way Jamies fathers screaming so obviously effected and stuck with him, the way he was scared while winning that match, ‘you may think you’re the only one who can see who he really is, but you’re not’—but it hasn’t quite clicked for me yet the way everything else has). The second panic attack I initially believed to be stress related, and I do still believe that, but what if it hit deeper than that. Again the voice playing through his head is not a soundbite about how Richmond needs to win to make it back into the premier league, but rather it’s a memory of Jamie’s father angrily telling him ‘you’re better than that!’, followed by Henry’s awed voice when meeting Jamie. Fathers and sons, and sons and their fathers … always at the heart of his panic.

Even Nate’s storyline itself this season, filled with so much anger and change, seems to be centring around the impact of Nate’s father’s actions on Nates perception of himself and his own actions. It just … well … it seems to coincidental for a show that seems to value its characters so dearly.

When he’s talking to Dr. Sharon, he mentions the ‘gory details’ of his life: ‘the fights, the mistakes, [his] deep dark secrets’. Again I don’t believe he’s talking about Michelle. Not wholly. There seems to be too much tied up in his ability to coach, protect, and connect. His assertion multiple times that ‘wins don’t matter’ when talking with Beard earlier in the series personifies this. Ted is in coaching for the people, not the wins, so why would the potential of a loss or win impact him so much. I feel like I may be reaching again, but still, with the show making the connections between fathers and sons in his panic attack during the game, it makes me think that this mentality, and the way he views coaching, is connected to his father.

A reason for him to so desperately hold onto a lack of significance around the usual primary objective of his profession would seem to be exposure to the negative side of the consequences of that world of thought. Ted views a single minded desire to win as a negative. He values player mental health above all else. I just can’t let the feeling go that this is extremely significant, more so than Ted just being the genuine guy he is. I think people who feel this way to this extreme, in these circumstances especially in this profession, usually have a serious reason why. I think Ted blames himself. I think Ted blames his father. I think he’s pushed it down more than he ever thought. And I think it’s all coming up now.

Now that he’s caring about winning. Now that (in his mind) he’s left his son behind. Left his wife behind. Left his responsibilities behind. And he can’t burden anyone with those feelings. Because he feels it’s his job to make sure no one ever feels that burden again.

[meanscarletdeceiver]

Did the rumors that Rudolph Diesel was assassinated by the coal industry (its likely that he wasn’t) on his way to give the English plans for diesel submarines for the war effort in 1913 (he was) ever become part of the steam-diesel culture war a few decades later?

Thinking about your diesel wip, and my fav inventor

Ps. Forget if anyone already talked about this

I have never heard anyone talk about this in a TTTE context and it's VERY cool!! Thank you for opening this real-life lore up to me!!

I've been delayed posting your ask by going on to read some other articles about Diesel, who I didn't realize was such an admirable chap. And also of course by making new headcanon. Such as...

When it comes to my concept of the first-generation BR diesels, the thing is, they're ignoramuses. If they knew more they wouldn't be... *gestures* like that... some of them might be horrible in other ways but if they had been educated even half-decently then they wouldn't be the one-dimensional, brainwashed little bastards they are.

They didn't originally hate steam engines, more just casually despised them as inferior, and then later got pissed off about real and imagined current-day wrongs. This history is not needed to justify my HCs about the 50s.

Furthermore, this history would have been unavailable to the early BR diesels. Like, the earliest UK industrial diesels knew a lot about Rudolph Diesel (Rom River headcanons incoming?... noooooooooo), and perhaps even the LMS diesels got a decent grounding in their history. But the BR diesels? The first waves of 08s in particular? Nah son—they didn't have engines teaching them anything. Hence, dumbasses. And while BR management might not have understood much about how to raise their lil monsters, they did know not to feed them conspiracy theories about their grand-maker's death.

Now, after the steam-diesel hostilities that I posit in the mid-50s? After steam is already on its way out? Then I can see some of the big mainline diesels getting wind of this idea and making a bunch of hateful poppycock out of it to justify any continued persecution of steam engines despite the latter no longer posing any real threat to them.

But where do they get this idea about Big Coal killing their creator? I don't think from the humans. A better bet is that it was passed down by the old LMS diesels and it got more elaborate and farfetched and out-of-hand each time the rumors were retold.

But even this seems a little weak to me (hard to explain how it passed through the 08s, who are kind of dismissed by everyone, without really making much impact on them). You know where I think '60s British diesels got this idea (which turned some of them completely around the bend)?

Brace yourself for the irony. It might well have come out of Sodor.

Edward went through a nerd-out period circa 1960, brushing up on the history of diesel (This engine is a Metropolitan-Vickers diesel-electric type-two not exactly being the most "I know a normal amount" statement I've ever heard). He later talked over Rudolph Diesel with BoCo. BoCo passed on what he learned to the other Metrovicks.

Unfortunately, he didn't know that one of his brothers was even then being radicalized into a steam-hating frothing-at-the-mouth bounty-hunter, so that information went viral in all the wrong circles very quickly...

[cryoftheplanet]

The Unifying Theme of FFVII

So I recently got an ask that was very interesting and which I think I did a piss poor job answering. Republished here:

what is the biggest theme of FF7 that ties every character together to you? life? pro environmentalism? identity? connections?

My answer was, in a nutshell, "existentialism." It's broadly true, and was certainly an influence on the game (see: Martin Heidegger, Existentialist philosopher and known bastard) but it's a reductive and Western take overall.

So, here's the long version, and a disclaimer up-front that I'm a simple Western weeb doing internet research to the best of my ability; apologies to those who know more than me.

Square has always stated that the theme of the game is "life". This is wholly accurate, but comes off as a little twee to a Western ear. This is because "life" is a translation of the Japanese word "inochi" (命). It is a broader, more holistic concept than the English "life," with different nuances and connotations.

For a longer and much more informed read on inochi specifically, see The Concept of Life in Contemporary Japan by Masahiro Morioka. Otherwise, keep reading after the cut!

In addition to meaning life or lifespan, "inochi" also encompasses the idea of a "spirit" or vital force. It extends beyond referring to life in the general sense. Much like any one person's mind, spirit, and lived existence isn't interchangeable with anyone else's, one's "inochi" is unique and individualistic.

This concept extends beyond just human life. Animals, mountains, rivers, and trees all have "inochi" too. An illuminating quote From Aspects of Shinto in Japanese Communication by Kazuya Hara (and his primary source):

From the viewpoint of Shinto, nature itself is seen to have a spirit and life. For example, Japanese people have looked upon even a tree, a rock, or a river in nature as a figure of life. Kamata (2000) argues that the Japanese word inochi connotes the dynamic motion, flow, and circulation of all the universe.

That circulation also includes the idea that "inochi" does not refer to only a single individual life, but a chain of all the lives that have gone before. It encompasses the fleeting and finite life of the individual as well as the ecosystem in which they lived, and the influence and impact which will survive them and create the next link in the chain.

You'll recognize many of these concepts as being expressed through the Lifestream, and extant in the environmentalist elements of the game. Navigating the apparent paradox of a finite and infinite "inochi" also pulls our cast in, all of whom are characters struggling with their individual existence in the context of a greater, deeply interconnected crisis.

"Inochi" is also connected to FFVII's strong themes of navigating identity and uncovering the fundamental self. The word can also be used to refer to the core or fundamental part of something, its "most essential quality." This echoes Cloud's journey to rediscover himself, and it's noteworthy that he find again within the Lifestream, the manifestation of "inochi" itself.

"Inochi" is definitely a very accurate unifying theme. We've touched on how that connects to Shinto themes, but Buddhist philosophies of life and existence are just as culturally prevalent in Japan and influential on the themes of VII in turn. So, let's talk about Buddhism, with another disclaimer that I'm not expert by any means whatsoever.

A foundational concept in Buddhism is the Three Marks of Existence: Impermanence, the non-self, and suffering. We'll mainly focus on the first two.

The first, impermanence, is as it says on the tin. According to Buddhist thought, impermanence is inherent to the natural world, and failing to recognize this will bring suffering. The bad passes along with the good, the big as well as the small. The strain of Buddhist thought through the game is part of why FFVII's original ending is so appropriate, and Aeris' death so integral to the rest of its themes.

The second is the non-self. Related to the concept of impermanence, the idea here is that there is no permanent incarnation of the self, and there is no way to separate the self as an individual from its myriad pieces and its context. From What Are The Three Marks of Existence by Dana Nourie:

When you start to see how you aren’t a solid, unchanging self, but a impermanent, dynamic person, you also loosen your clinging to thoughts, ideas, emotions, and the idea of a “real you”.

The connection to Cloud's personal journey throughout the game is obvious - an abundance of attachment to an artificial self causes him to suffer until he is able to reconcile it and let it go. Sephiroth, meanwhile, faces a similar challenge to his own identity and slips sideways into Nihilism, unable to overcome (or even admit) his own suffering.

There's a connection between Buddhist and Existentialist/Existential Nihilist thought. While Buddhism incorporates the concept of suffering as an inherent and endless facet of life until nirvana can be reached, Existentialists struggle with a post-modern feeling of dread or anxiety fundamental to living in a meaningless and chaotic world. There's also been plenty of cultural exchange between eastern and western concepts here - Heidegger is one notable participant.

Another is Keiji Nishitani from the influential Kyoto University of Philosophy. Engaging with western Existentialist thinkers, he wrote Religion and Nothingness on the connection between the concept of the non-self and the western philosophy of Nihilism. He compared the similarities between the two, while ultimately refuting Nietzche's perspective. This quote (helpfully, from his Wikipedia page) seems particularly instructive, especially in returning back to some of the initial concepts expressed by "inochi":

"All things that are in the world are linked together, one way or the other. Not a single thing comes into being without some relationship to every other thing."

My original answer to this question was Existentialism because there simply isn't a word or a tidy concept in my vocabulary that can convey all of this disparate information. Existentialism seemed to me like the most familiar and broad concept to encompass these themes, always in the form of questions: How do we live? How do we separate subjectivity from objective truth? How do we preserve the sense that our lives are meaningful?

You must decide for yourself; you must remember your connections to other lives; you must let go.

[cyaneyesullivan]

listening to WAP and having thoughts...

i took my interest off petekey for a while to focus on other stuff, but everytime i listen to Fall Out Boy, the wonder and amazement spark back immediately... i’m still completely blown away (among other things) by how much Pete must’ve liked (loved) Mikey to keep up with it for so long -- or how much he feels in general. and even if the songs aren’t about Mikey (i have discussed this briefly), it doesn’t change the fact that Pete is absolutely tormented by his own emotions. it’s kind of fascinating.

with that being said, i’m in the mood to list off all the suspicious lyrics ever written by Pete that makes me go “damn, Mikey really did a disgusting number on him” or like, “poor Pete man”

disclaimer: again, these lyrics, let alone songs, might not be about Mikey, but i choose to believe so. i have to satisfy my fixation and bedazzlement on the fact that petekey highkey happened in the summer of 05. 

i’m only including my favorite songs or i’ll be here all night.

italic = my favorite lines

in no particular order:

Bishops Knife Trick (a LOT to unpack in this one): - And I’m living out of time, eternal heatstroke - Spiritual revolt from the waist down - To the places that we never should have left - I’ve got a feeling inside that I can’t domesticate, it doesn’t want to live in a cage, a feeling that I can’t housebreak - And I’m yours, ‘til the earth starts to crumble and the heavens roll away - I’m struggling to exist with you, and without you - I’m sifting through the sand, sand, sand, sand, looking for pieces of broken hourglass - Trying to get it all back, put it back together, as if the time had never passed - I know I should walk away, know I should walk away - But I just want to let you break my brain - And I can’t seem to get a grip - No, no matter how I live with it

Heaven’s Gate (some interesting elements here that describe Pete’s all-consuming yet destructive love) - If there were any more left of me, I’d give it to you (this one is just a personal favorite, not particularly related to Mikey) - Go out in the world, start over again and again, as many times as you can - ‘Cause everything else is a substitute for your love - I’ve got dreams of my own, but I want to make yours come true (another personal favorite lol) - You’re the one habit I just can’t kick

The Last Of The Real Ones (i adore this song but it leaves a lot of space for vague interpretation, so I’ll just list off my favorite lyrics that give me goosebumps when I think they’re meant for Mikey) - You are the sun and I am just the planets, spinning around you - You were too good to be true, gold plated, but what’s inside you? - I know this whole damn city thinks it needs you but not as much as I do, as much as I do - I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me - That ultra-kind of love you never walk away from - I am a collapsing star with tunnel vision, but only for you - My head is stripped just like a screw that’s been tightened too many times, when I think of you - Just tell me, tell me, tell me I, I am the only one, even if it’s not true, even if it’s not true

Just One Yesterday (oh my lord, this one lmao -- honestly the whole song has this odd vibe that it’s a pointed jab at Mikey) - Anything you say can and will be held against, so only say my name - I’d trade all my tomorrows for just one yesterday (any notion that suggests Pete is obsessed with the past is a win) - I want to teach you a lesson in the worst kind of way - I don’t have the right name or the right looks, but I have twice the heart (i just feel like maybe he’s implying he’s not a girl and that does not please no-homo Mikey) - If I spilled my guts, the world would never look at you the same way (lol) - And now I’m here to give you all my love - So I can watch your face as I take it all away

Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown On A Bad Bet (my ultimate favorite of FOB. unbeatable. i had to put it here if only to honor it) --> i talked about it before -- there are no obvious marks of petekey here, but i made a post on it in the past

Immortals (lolol) - I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass (hourglass, time, past, bottom half, Pete is still waiting for Mikey, blabla) - I try to picture me without you but I can’t - ‘Cause we could be immortals, immortals, just not for long, for long - And live with me forever now, pull the black out curtains down (blocking public exposure?) - I’m still comparing your past to my future - It might your wound but, they’re my sutures (Pete’s heartbreak = big inspiration that keeps him writing lyrics therefore having a career?)

Centuries (obviously) - Some legends are told, some turn to dust or to gold - But you will remember me, remember me for centuries (they must have done super crazy shit back in 05) - And just one mistake, is all it will take, we’ll go down in history (presumably, their story must be so nuts it will end up in a massive gossip explosion) - Mummified my teenage dreams (his songs lol) - No it’s nothing wrong with me, the kids are all wrong, the story’s all off, heavy metal broke my heart - Bruises on your thighs like my fingerprints - Cause I-I am the opposite of amnesia (notable, since there is concrete evidence of their ‘lovestruck summer’ in the form of a million of his lyrics) - You look so pretty but you’re gone so soon - We’ve been here forever, and here’s the frozen proof (again, his lyrics, photographs, dramas, tweets etc)

Irresistible (honestly, the whole song lmao) - Mon cheri (i’m only putting this one down because, little story: i didn’t know about petekey when i first listened to this song, and i’m french, and when i heard this for the first time i was like, wtf, people keep wanting to use french words and end up using them wrong. well, oops. maybe the use this time wasn’t as faulty as i thought)

HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON’T - I neve really feel a thing, I was kind of too froze - You were the only one, that even kind of came close - I took too many hits off this memory (memory = joint? lmao) - Another day goes by (without Mikey?) - So hold me tight, or don’t (basically, settle or fade) - Oh no, no, no this isn’t how our story ends - I got too high again when I realized I can’t not be with you or be just your friend - I love you to death but I just can’t, I just can’t pretend, we were lovers first - Confidants but never friends, were we ever friends? (interesting point since they never really had a lasting friendship. it’s a well known fact they helped each other with their own monsters (so, confidants), but after the whole summer fiasco, their friendship was at best on and off, and even then, there’s a lot of mourning on Pete’s end. poor guy) - ‘Cause I’m past the limits, the distance between us, it sharpens me like a knife

Jet Pack Blues - I’m the last one that you’ll ever remember - And I’m trying to find my peace of mind - She’s in a long black coat tonight (someone, in a significant night, has been in a long black coat too) - Did you ever love her? Do you know? Or did you never want to be alone? (notable, Pete is questioning whether or not his ‘love’ could stem from loneliness, because this shit happens way too often than should be) - Don’t you remember how we used to split a drink? It never matted what it was - I think our hands were just that close, the sweetness never lasted, no Novocaine (i like this one in particular because it just seems to suggest that Pete will never be finished with this, and will haunt Mikey forever, either to get revenge for being left behind or relive that one unforgettable summer) - I will always land on you like a sucker punch (omg lmao) - I am your worst, I am your worst nightmare - If you knew, knew what the bluebirds sing at you, you would never sing along - Because they took our love and they filled it up, filled it up with novocaine and now I’m just numb - I don’t feel a thing for you (sure) - I’m just a problem that doesn’t wanna be solved - I feel like a photo that’s been overexposed (i wonder if it’s because of all the junk he posted on livejournal) that concludes it! of course, there are so many more obvious songs, like Fourth of July and Bang the Doldrums, but i don’t love those songs, so i didn’t include them. and side note, the lyrics hit that much harder when Patrick is the damn singer and makes everything hurt. but i’ll rant about that in another post, maybe.

(it doesn’t really matter who sees this or doesn’t -- i just wanted to put this out somewhere. petekey will forever be so interesting. the impact Mikey (or whoever Pete wrote about) had on Pete is just unbelievable to me.)

end.

[cognacdelights]

fluorescent adolescent [7]

the romantic tirades of indie routledge series masterlist

my outer banks masterlist

add yourself to my taglist

fluorescent adolescent by arctic monkeys 

summary: angry and upset at the way she was treated, indie gets her revenge on an oblivious jj. however, not before she gets the release her touch-starved body has been craving in his absence. 

warnings: sexual content. dirty talk. public sex. underage drinking. angst. swearing.

There weren’t many skills in life that Indie Routledge had mastered; she was considered by most as a give-it-a-go kind of girl. Well, that was until it came to math, as Pope Heyward had come to realise after attempting to explain algebraic equations to her. Let’s just say, Indie thought of algebra as more of a foreign language, rather than a sub-branch of math. Cheerleading during her freshman year faired far better - motivation-wise, at least. The brief, three week period in which Indie had somehow made it onto Kildare County High’s award-winning cheerleading team had been plagued with a plethora of slips, trips and falls. A sprained ankle - and a broken nose on Thalia Ramos’ part - had swiftly ended the young Routledge girl’s career as a flyer. However, her career as an electric guitarist, not-so-astonishingly, was even shorter. After two weeks of out-of-tune strumming and accompanying tone deaf vocals, Big John had gently suggested that she retire from the demanding world of rock and roll and had promptly sold the guitar to a friend of a friend; not to mention, Wonderwall was banned from the Routledge household for the foreseeable.

However, there was one thing that she had come to master during her fifteen trouble-filled years on this godforsaken planet - besides raising absolute hell for her at-a-loss brother. Grudges. Indie Routledge could hold a grudge longer, and harder, than the best of them. There was no escaping the feisty, sharp-tongued hellcat’s wrath once you had entered into the notorious realms of her bad side. From the intense, acrimonious death glares, to the caustic, bitter snipes of her venomous tongue, to the suffocating quiet of her silent treatment; you would bare witness to it all, as the insufferably oblivious JJ Maybank had come to find out the hard way.

As his bare, sun-soaked shoulders leant against the cushioned back of the bench, he peeled the sweat-ridden skin of his thighs from the scolding leather and rested his hips nonchalantly on the edge of the seat. He brought the freshly-opened can of beer up to his lips - taking a long and generous sip - as the scorching, mid-day sun beat down above him. The reflective lenses of his off-brand sunglasses covered his murky, cobalt eyes, allowing him to shamelessly devour her curvaceous silhouette from the opposite side of the deck. His tongue dragged lazily along the chapped ridges of his bottom lip as her dainty fingertips bunched around the faded, stone-washed fabric of her over-sized t-shirt, pulling the garment up and over her tousled top-knot.

“Dude,” Pope’s reprimanding voice attempted to pull the shaggy-haired blonde from his hormone-induced trance, accompanied by an abrupt slap against his shoulder, “he’d kill you if he saw you looking at Indie like that.” Despite his quite adamant disapproval, the usually soft-spoken boy couldn’t resist taking a swift glance in Indie’s direction; the ruched, ivory bikini - which only just covered her most intimate of areas - was a stark contrast against her bronzed, olive-toned complexion, that glistened celestially under the Mid-Atlantic sun. She was utterly a sight to behold, and that fact was undeniable - no matter who you were to John B.

“I’m just admiring the scenery,” JJ responded somewhat casually, an air of dismissiveness present within his gravelly tone. However, whilst the blasé words that so effortlessly rolled off his tongue indicated one thing, his inconspicuous eyes suggested another; behind the over-sized, reflective glasses, his cerulean orbs were drinking in her scandalously-clad, slender figure and indulging themselves in all of her glorious liberties. His searing gaze fixated on her cleavage, refusing to relent as she obliviously leant forwards in an attempt to reach the tanning oil - the thin fabric of her bikini shifting ever so slightly to expose even more of her chest to him. A haughty, brazen smirk tugged briefly at the corners of his lips as he revelled in the sight before him; whilst Indie merely sported B cups, her boobs were delightfully perky and the two spear-headed, titanium bars which penetrated either side of her taut, rosy nipples were a definite turn on for him.

Leisurely regaining her posture, she adjusted the loosely-tied string of her bikini top, which had slipped uncomfortably high up her back. The lackadaisical movements allowed her to flaunt the perfect amount of sun-kissed side boob, and showcase the heart-shaped, do-it-yourself stick and poke tattoo that had been drunkenly carved into the left side of her rib cage. A lustful moan vigorously clawed at the back of JJ’s throat, desperate to surpass his beer-soaked lips and resonate through the salt-laced, open-ocean air. He suppressed the ungodly groan with a subtle cough as his hazy, indigo eyes continued to follow her cleavage - her love-marked breasts bouncing ever so slightly with each sprightly step she made towards him. 

“Will you?” the sultry melody of Indie’s voice diverted Pope’s rigid gaze from the calm, distant waves of the horizon. His deep umber eyes swiftly fell upon the half-empty bottle of tanning oil, which she had half-heartedly thrust in his general direction - purposefully avoiding her barely-clothed silhouette at all costs. He would be downright lying to himself if he refused to admit that she was a radiantly beautiful temptress, and that the odd inappropriate thought hadn’t grudgingly crept it’s way into his typically innocent mind on occasion, but he knew it was wrong on so many levels; if he existed in the Garden of Eden, then Indie Routledge was the forbidden fruit that devilishly taunted him from the evergreen trees above. She was his best friend’s little sister, after all. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he admitted solemnly, bringing his almost-empty can of tepid beer to his lips. Once again, his cautious, mocha eyes concentrated on anywhere but her exposed physique as they peered above the metal rim, settling on her luminous, cinnamon orbs out of safety. Indie’s signature pout painted her olive complexion as her neatly-plucked eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. Pope stared back at her with a deadpan expression - as if it were completely obvious as to why he refused to place his sinless hands on her sun-drenched, bikini-clad body. 

Outstretching his upturned palm, JJ interjected their conversation with a nonchalant offer, “give it here.” Indie was forced to finally acknowledge his presence after a prolonged period of subjecting him to her soul-crushing silent treatment, eventually allowing her mahogany eyes to fall upon his relaxed, shirtless silhouette as a sour scowl contorted her doll-like features. Her cold, impassive gaze trailed along the toned lengths of his athletic body as she silently mulled over her next move. She so desperately wanted to stand her ground with him, however a subtle arching upwards of his untamed eyebrow saw her reluctantly caving in to his demands with a defeated exhale. 

“Just know that you were the last resort,” her vicious tongue sniped with it’s venom-laced words, as she forcefully placed the tanning oil down in his hand - the grease-coated bottle slapping loudly against his calloused palm on impact. 

Pope let out a rapid breath of air in the form of an uncomfortable whistle tone before standing from the scorching, leather seat, “I’ll leave you two to it then.” His bare feet padded against the blistering fibreglass decking at an increasing pace, cautious not to burn the already sensitive skin of the undersides of his feet, as he approached the similarly scolding ladder. Wisely, he opted to launch his sculpted, over-heating body into the sweet, frigid relief of the open waters, instead of slowly and painfully descending down the fire-like steps. 

In a sanctimonious display, Indie swiftly swivelled on the heels of her feet, leaving the teal-eyed boy with the glorious sight of her voluptuously pert ass. The corners of his upper lip twitched ever so slightly - a satisfied smirk creeping across his chiselled, stubble-lined features for a fleeting moment as he insolently admired the sight before him. She, however, stared out into the distant waves, observing intently as the remaining pogues frolicked carelessly around in the placid waves.

His audacious fingertips took it upon themselves to curl beneath the double-knotted ties of her bikini bottoms, inching her hour-glass figure ever close to him until he could feel the smooth lengths of her sun-kissed legs against his. The warm palms of his hands wandered the short distance to her voluptuous hips, applying a gentle touch of pressure to guide her petite frame into his welcoming lap; his ring-cladded hands carrying a certain authoritative and domineering contingence that Indie simply couldn’t ignore.

With his paw-like palms coated in a generous amount of tanning oil, JJ began tenderly caressing the dainty, sun-kissed broads of her shoulders - his masterful thumbs massaging the coconut-scented product into her skin in soothing circles. Indie’s incandescent eyes fluttered closed as her tense, aching muscles reluctantly relaxed under his delicate fingertips, an almost inaudible moan of satisfaction slipping out from between her slightly parted lips. Seven painfully long days and pining-filled nights had passed since she had last felt the invigorating touch of his fingertips against her searing skin, and the mere, innocent gesture of him rubbing in her tanning oil was slowly - but surely - beginning to douse the week-long, burning rage which she had directed towards him. 

“You like that, hmm?” he hummed imperiously, his tone low and gravelly as his thin lips grazed ever so lightly against the soft skin of her neck with each spoken word. Her slender arms pricked with goosebumps - almost as if on cue - as she felt the faint scruffs of his stubble tickle against her exposed collarbone, and his taunting lips curl upwards into a haughty, satisfied smirk. In truth be told, JJ Maybank had missed their secret, intimate rendezvous; he longed for the subtle hint of watermelon that lingered on her plump, luscious lips and hankered for the euphoric sensation of her tight, dripping pussy clenching around his painfully hard dick once more.

“I’d like it a lot better if you shut up,” Indie spat with a sour tongue. 

“Hey, watch the mouth, madam, before I put it to good use,” JJ responded with a playful warning, mistaking her seething snipes as her infamous, satire-laced flirting. The smug smile which had painted itself across his defined, rosy-tinged features grew ever so slightly, as the mischievous tips of his stubby fingers toyed with the loosely-tied knot of her bikini top. Teasingly, he pulled the thin, ivory band towards him before abruptly letting go - allowing the lax elastic to snap somewhat gently against her spine; of course, it wasn’t anything too rigorous, just a little something to capture and secure her attention.

“Try it, I dare you,” her dark, mahogany eyes peered upwards at the taller, shaggy-haired blonde, the back of her head resting comfortably against the brawny muscles of his squared-off shoulder, “I’m in a biting mood.” His murky, indigo eyes met with hers as his wandering palms slipped casually beneath the double-knotted tie and continued to carefully massage the sweet-smelling oil into her beautifully bronzed skin in effortless, gentle, circular motions. She was facing a real confliction of emotions in that moment; the insolent smirk which, not so graciously, graced his sunburnt complexion fanned the flames of her hurt-fuelled hatred towards him - however, the way his masterful hands tenderly caressed her back doused the fire just as rapidly. 

“Mhmm, there’s that attitude that I love so much,” JJ countered her fiery quip with a lighthearted chuckle. His beer-stained lips placed several sloppy kisses into her tamed, chestnut tangles as he allowed his free-spirited hands to dauntlessly inch around her front. Indie’s gaze dropped - suddenly - to the two bear-like palms that had brazenly slithered beneath the thin, ruched material and cupped both her petite, bouncing breasts in a domineering hold. His audacious hands were pleasantly warm as they sensually fondled her cleavage - his masterful thumbs working every inch of her hickey-littered skin as heavy, jagged breaths surpassed her chapstick-coated lips. A quiet, lascivious whine echoed between them as his gentle fingertips toyed with her nipple piercing, twirling the titanium rods around in a painfully slow motion. 

“The only thing you love is the sound-” Indie’s vindictive words were crudely interrupted by an elated gasp forcing it’s way out from the depths of her throat, as his mischievous fingers flicked against her hardened nipple. Frustrated by his teasing touches, she sunk her two front teeth into the rose-tinted flesh of her bottom lip in a desperate bid to discourage the searing, sensuous heat that was promptly building between her sun-soaked thighs. 

“What was that, Squirt?” his taunting, husky voice questioned. Her terracotta eyes had focused themselves on the frayed, princess-printed beach towel that laid flat against the opposing, leather cushions, but she just knew from the blatant mocking in his inflections that an overbearing, pompous beam had plastered itself across stubble-lined features. This only enraged the dainty, sour-tongued virago further. 

“The only thing you-” she began again, her tone significantly lower, resembling more of a resentful and infuriated growl. However, her malicious words were once again disrupted by a second high-pitched, pleasure-filled gasp as the calloused tip of his thumb flicked against her excited nipple once again and his sumptuous, massaging motions became increasingly more rigorous. As valiant as they were, her efforts to smother the lustful heat emanating from between her now clamped together thighs were futile - as her scant bikini bottoms dampened with desire. 

Feeling the drenched material clinging against the exposed skin of this muscular thighs, JJ’s audacious fingertips retreated from the comforting shelter of her bikini top. Painstakingly slow and ever so lightly, he traced the concave outline of her hour-glass figure until he reached the soaking wet haven of her bikini bottoms. His chapped, beer-laced lips found a sweet spot nestled within the crook of her neck and began their salacious assault, as his work-worn palms allowed themselves to forcefully slip between the crack in her love-marked thighs. JJ proceeded to prise them apart with an authoritative touch of pressure, having her spread her bare, sun-drenched legs so he had full and unrestricted access to her gloriously sodden core. 

“Tell me to stop and I will,” he informed in his trademark, throaty tone - although he knew in his bones she wouldn’t; Indie Routledge had gone seven days without his tantalising, expert touch and her svelte, slightly-toned body was evidently just as touch-starved as his own. 

Slipping his ring-clad finger beneath the utterly soaked fabric of her bikini bottoms, he ran a teasing stripe along her dampened folds - drawing a long, lecherous moan from the back of her throat. His sharpened teeth grazed against the now mauve-tinged patch of skin as his thumb found her acutely sensitive bud of nerves. He worked a, gentle at first, series of figure eight motions against her swollen clit, enticing a melodic symphony of pleasure-filled purrs and whines from between her slightly parted lips. With each passing second, his masterful motions grew rougher and more abrupt. 

Pushing the juice-soaked fabric entirely to the side, he lathered both his middle and ring finger in her pearl-like nectar before thrusting them into her yearning warmth. Instinctively, Indie clamped her dainty palm across her mouth, muffling the emphatic, enraptured moans that soon followed his fast-paced thrusts. JJ abandoned his rhythmic figure eight motions as he focused solely on thrusting his fingers deep and hard into her dripping core - expertly curling them up against her delicate pleasure point. Her voluptuous hips rocked in synchronisation with his rapid momentum, the cool metal of his rings contrasting against the sweltering heat of her pussy. 

Squeezing her clouded, cinnamon eyes shut, Indie released a barrage of sinful expletives and high-pitched moans into the safety of her clasped hand. She could feel the beginnings of her much-anticipated high building in the pit of her stomach as the already tight walls of her soaking pussy contracted around his stubby fingers. With a pleased-with-himself smile still contorting his sunburnt complexion, his thumb returned to it’s previous salacious cycle of pressing rigorous circular motions against her delicate rose bud. Her lubed-up walls clamped hard around his silver signet ring and he took this as his cue to hastily retreat from her warmth. 

“Don’t you dare,” she whimpered at the sudden loss of contact - fury detectable in her strained, stringent tone. A low, tormenting laugh vibrated from the depths of his vocal chords as he nectar-drenched fingers drew cursive patterns against her inner thighs. 

Minutes dragged by as his hazy, teal eyes watched her heaving chest regain it’s gentle composure, before plunging his two long and stubby fingers back into the depths of her still soaking core. Indie’s head subconsciously threw itself backwards - resting against the burly broads of his shoulders - as his pace quickened with each vigorous thrust. JJ’s calloused thumb found her swollen clit once more, reprising his previous cycle of sensuous figure eight motions alongside his momentous thrusts. Salacious moans continued to spill from between her chapstick-coated lips as she allowed his free hand to guide her seductive curves into a synchronised rocking - forcibly meeting against the juice-soaked balls of his knuckles. Once again, the rigid clamping of her core’s warm and nectar-stained walls around his masterful fingers triggered JJ’s hasty retreat - still sporting the imperious smirk which Indie had come to loathe with a searing passion. 

“I hate you,” she spat, overwhelmingly frustrated. Taking charge of the unfolding situation, Indie’s lavender-painted fingertips tensed around his bracelet-clad wrist - dragging his loosely clenched fist back between the hickey-painted plains of her inner thighs. 

“If you hate me, you wouldn’t want me doing this, would you?” his gravelly, sardonic tone tormented as his juice-stained fingers found themselves thrusting themselves vigorously back into the warm depths of her forbidden fruit. With great difficulty, she suppressed the raucous whines and elated moans which clawed desperately at the back of her throat as she indulged herself in the lascivious contact between them. Several sloppy, rigid plunges had her yearning, touch-starved centre clenching tightly around his fist for a third time. JJ - once again - attempted to deny the cinnamon-haired hellcat her release; however, her juice-stained thighs reacted much quicker than he could and clamped themselves together - trapping his teasing fingers within her sodden core. She was desperate for a release. 

“Alright, you win, pretty girl,” JJ cooed into her ear, a deep laugh resonating through the salt-laced, mid-ocean air. Cautiously, her thighs relaxed their rigid hold around his bruised-covered fist and allowed his dauntless fingertips to ease back into their fast-paced thrusts. Within seconds, Indie was bordering on the edge of her orgasm for a fourth time; her hankering walls fell into a desirous cycle of clenching and un-clenching around his juice-covered knuckles in anticipation of the euphoric high she had been craving all week and her lecherous whines filled the oppressive, muggy air surrounding them. One set of ballerina-shaped fingernails dug themselves into the burly flesh of his thigh as the other carelessly sunk into the clammy palm of her hand - her dainty fist contracted into a tight ball as she bit down into the tanning-oil-covered flesh in a successful attempt to silence her pleasure-filled screams. 

“Fuck, I wanna feel that tight pussy clenching around my dick so bad,” the shaggy-haired blonde let out a carnal groan - his chapped lips capturing hers in a steamy, lascivious kiss. Everything about their raunchy embrace was sloppy, needy and unchaste as his large, sweat-riddled palms guided her enticing hips so that they faced his. Her petite knees sat either side of his shirtless, athletic silhouette - trapping him beneath her aching, eager pussy. 

“Mhmm?” Indie taunted with a sultry hum, her plump, luscious lips remaining in a salacious synchrony with his. Grinding her nectar-soaked heat against the very tip of his hardened dick, she felt his pulsing length continuing to grow as it strained uncomfortably against the unforgiving fabric of his swim shorts. Her desperate fingertips combed through the tousled waves of his fair locks, tugging carelessly on the straw-like ends. 

“Mhmm,” JJ struggled to responded, his hormone-focused brain transfixed on the euphoric sensation of her damp, clothed pussy rubbing against his dick. 

“Too bad, pretty boy,” she purred against her earlobe, her tone swiftly transforming from one thick with desire and lust to one laced with bitterness and revulsion, “you better sort yourself out before John B sees.” Adapting his harsh words from the previous week, she spoke with the same causticity and sourness - completely removing her scandalously-clad figure from his yearning grasp. An acidic scowl contorted her bronzed, doll-like features as her darkened, sorrel eyes bore into his unphased.

“What the fuck?” he questioned with an un-amused groan, completely perplexed by her abruptly sudden turn of mood. His still cum-drenched hand reached out to coil around her dainty wrist and coax her back into his welcoming lap - however, as his ring-cladded fingertips clasped onto her, she snatched herself from his grasp with a cold and impassive stare. “What is the matter with you, huh?” his now highly-frustrated tone pushed for anything resembling an explanation, “you’ve been one hell of a bitch all week and it’s wearing pretty fucking thin, India.”

“Did you just call me-” the utter shock of his use of her government name stopped her from finishing her exclamation - the venom-filled, rage-fuelled words getting caught in the back of her throat. Her bare, exposed chest heaved with jagged breaths as she struggled to contain her anger; JJ Maybank had never - not once - ever referred to her as India in the eight years that he had known her, until now. Indie’s cheeks flushed an enraged rouge, as did the tops of her ears, as she finally reached her boiling point. “Do you know what, Jesse James? You’re a real piece of shit. Fuck you, and your one inch wonder. I’m done with you and whatever this is.”

“This,” JJ gestured between the two of them with his forefinger, “isn’t anything. You’re just a smart-mouthed little girl seeking out attention that she can’t handle, and I’m not fucking entertaining it anymore.”

Taglist: @bellaguarneri @spilledtee @outrbanks @ilovejjmaybank @outerbxmalia @parkerpetertingle @jjouterbanks @summerintheobx @poguelifesurfshop @o-b-x @maybanksmalfoy @pogue-writings @milamaybank @heypopemain @wtfstarkey @trinnwazheree @corebore123 @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @queenniccimicci @maybankslut @jiaraendgame @starlightstarkey @abbiesthings @dannii-li @tempestuousjj @abbiesthings @stfukie @diverrdown @curlybrownhairedboys @joshy-obx @jjmaybankx @fanofmany @jjtheangel​ @obxlife @tangledinsparkles @jayjaymaebank @linctaviaxbellarke @rafecamerondeservesbetter @belledutchess @tembo-ndoto @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @secretmoonphantom @lolitstiana @blindedbyyourgrace17 @rudyypankow @sunwardsss @john-shelby @angelicbabybutterfly​ @kamcrazy123​ 

[franeridart]

Anon said: i love love love LOVE how you just draw gojo leaning onto getou, hiding his face in getou's neck or back or chest <////3 im just so heartbroken over those two

So glad to hear you like him clingy as much as I do!! TT^TT as far as I’m concerned he wasn’t clingy enough in canon, so I’m fixing it as much as I can with every new doodle haha

Anon said: whenever im sad i just come to your account and look through your art :")) it brings me so much comfort :')) also i gotta mention that the teacher getou art you've made has healed my broken heart bc of jjk and now that is the only canon i accept thank you very much gege akutami has nothing on me

GAH GETO-SENSEI MY ONE AND ONLY I’m happy he makes you as soft as he does me, he’s such a comfort to me ;;;; and thank you for liking my stuff!!!! Means the world to me to hear it ;A; <3

Anon said: I miss your krbk sm 😔 No pressure intended!!!!!! I still love and support u and ur art!!!

Man I miss them too!!!!! @ hori when are you bringing my loves back from the war I’m here waiting good sir!!!

Anon said: v v curious on your thoughts on what’s currently going on in bnha manga :)))

HMMM what are my thoughts on it? Well, let’s split it in two: Deku’s side and Todoroki’s side, because that’s how it’s split in my brain atm, and allow me to start from the second because it’s easier to get through for me

I’m in love with everything Hori is doing with Todoroki and everyone involved with him - that’s to say his whole whole family and Hawks and Jeanist too, all of it, I’m so into it it’s no joke at all. Always been in love with how he handles Enji’s character and his interactions with his family and the latest developments didn’t disappoint me at all, wasn’t very much into Dabi right after the “reveal” but the more I think about it and about the story from his pov the more behind it I am, forever and always head over heels for Shouto’s way of dealing with a situation that’s as complex as one would expect from a protagonist of their very own story you could really make a manga out of the Todoroki’s family plot from Shouto’s pov alone, it’s incredible I can’t state how in love with it all I am enough. And Hawks, don’t make me start on him I’ll straight up never stop, absolutely and most definitely my favorite pro-hero I would trust him with my money and my kids 100/10 just assume I’m constantly crying over him. Also Jeanist is just hilarious so bless him and his presence in an otherwise too heavy story

Deku’s side........ well, the main problems I have with it are that one, I don’t really understant the need to keep ofa a secret from the class for the biggest part of the story when the reveal wasn’t forced upon Deku, didn’t have a huge impact on him or his relationship with the others (his leaving wasn’t directly caused by him coming clean after all, he wouldn’t have had to leave earlier had he not kept it a secret and he would have still left at this point had the class already known all along) and didn’t, like. Matter. All that much. Two, this manga is called my hero academia and I’m genuinely starting to wonder why. What was the point of all the arcs set inside the school anyway? Most of the characters growth (Deku’s especially) and the progression of the main plot happened in the arcs outside of the school anyway, and at this point it’s clear we’re not going back to the school after this or even seeing anyone graduate. What of Shinsou? What was the point of his plot when we’re not even gonna see him being active part of the class in a school environment? I’m just confused about it all, I guess. Three, which is really my biggest problem with it all, is the way Deku’s set on saving Shigaraki. It’s not like I don’t like a story in which all the villains are saved and the good guys win and love prevails and all that, call it corny but they’re exactly my type of stories, but I’m not sure I can get behind it when Twice died like that, and Midnight did as well, and Aizawa lost a leg, and Nighteye died, and Hawks might have lost his wings, and Shirakumo ended up Kurogiri and it’s still unclear whether he can be saved, like... why does Shigaraki get to be saved when so many people suffered like that? And it’s not only about them suffering by his hands, it’s about Hori and how he was ruthless with so many characters but lets the story show arbitrary kindness to Shigaraki alone, it’s all... well. Unfair. The way I see it. At this point I at the very least expect kindness for Touya as well, here.

That said if I pick the chapters one by one by themselves I do enjoy them very much. I just don’t gotta think about the big picture lmao AH but it’s all a personal opinion, of course! I know people who enjoy the way the story is going and I can see where they’re coming from, this is all arbitrary tastes and preferences on my part, I’m aware of it!

Anon said: Hi hi! I finally got into jjk AND finally caught up on the manga and i appreciate your doods soooo much more now!! They’re so great!! But imcurious, is there one specific moment in the story where you Gojo and Geto became IT for you? Just genuinely curious!!

THANK YOU happy to hear you liked jjk!!!! And that’s!!! a great question, I’m not sure I have an answer actually? I binged the manga in a day and a half, you see, and when I binge stuff that fast I rarely stop to overthink things - I did ship them as I read too since, well. They’re in love lmao but I shipped them in the same way I shipped itafushi or yuutoge after I read the prequel, you know? Just a general aknowledging of how good they were together. The main point with satosugu specifically was probably that satoru has been my favorite character since the beginning of the story and suguru got there as well as soon as I read their backstory, so once I was caught up they’re the ones I ended up spending the most time thinking about, both by themselves and together, and that ended up making me a bit obsessed..... just a bit lol

If I had to give one specific moment that got me by the heart and squeezed the hardest it’d be... probably Satoru’s “my soul knows otherwise”. And the way his voice alone could bring Suguru back, even for just a single moment. The thing about satosugu for me!!! one of the many things about them, but the main thing for me, is that they love each other. Be it platonic or however you wanna see it, they love each other. Despite everything and after it all, even if Satoru had to kill Suguru, even if Suguru killed so many and betrayed Satoru and they went their separate ways in the harshest of ways, they love each other. It’s insane, isn’t it? That they’d love each other so much they could pass over everything and anything. I’ve seen the “best friends become enemies” trope so often in shounen manga, but this is the first time I see it treated like this - with love so strong that they never blamed each other or turned that love in hate. The way satosugu do it is all-encompassing! It goes beyond the world and their differences and death itself! So if I had to pick it’d be that one, because that scene happens after it’s all over, and it all went to shit and way beyond too already, and still their souls resonate with each other and answer to each other and that sends me insane, just thinking about it. Like, god, they really still love each other. Satoru’s mourned for Suguru for a year, Suguru’s been dead for a year, they’d been separated ten whole years before then, and still! And still!!! It’s so tender I don’t know how to deal with it

Anon said: “What’s a god to a nonbeliever?”—That tag is going to haunt me for a while. The entire tag section for your latest Gojo and Geto drawing is meta-worthy.

THANK YOU it’d been eating at my brain I had to write it down somewhere why are those two like that

Anon said: Do you take commissions? No pressure! ✨❤️

Not right now!

Anon said: How do you feel about sukuna ? like/dislike or thoughts on him

AMAZING QUESTION I love him. I have absolutely zero clue as of why so don’t ask me to elaborate, I’m literally that marge pic with the potato when it���s about Sukuna, I have no meta thoughts about him nor deep reasonings behind it - by all accounts, I should dislike him! But he shows up and I’m like nghhh king, so that’s where we stand. It’s Sukuna, you know. I just think he’s neat.

Anon said: sighs time to get into another fandom bc i simp too hard for ur art 😔

HAH thank you for the trust I hope you’ll like ror if you do get into it!!! hahaha

[well-in-all-honesty-i]

TW: Suicide

OKAY SO- I wanted to talk about Mafuyu and Yuki’s relationship and why it ended the way it did. I should preface this by saying that the majority of this, although somewhat supported by canon, is my own personal headcanon and speculation. I’ve been surrounded by a lot of people who I believe Yuki to be similar to, but I am not 100% accurate or well versed and this is mostly just from what I’ve gotten from those situations. Also, a lot of questionable grammar-I type like I speak, which doesn't translate well haha.

So I want to chunk this into 3 big pieces because I enjoy organizing things: Yuki’s childhood, how that affected his personality as a young adult, and how both of these lead to his eventual death.

Starting off with his childhood:

This one is heavy speculation (as most of this is-but this bit is particularly so) since there isn’t much canon to support this-or provide a lot of insight. But, what little we do know is that 1) Yuki’s father wasn’t present in his life-probably even before Mafuyu’s father had been jailed-and that, 2) Yuki and his father shared the same bull-headedness (?) and pride that Saeko believes led to his death.

I personally believe that Yuki’s father was someone who might have struggled with some sort of mental illness, as well as has had a problem with alcohol abuse. I also imagine that he probably disappeared or passed-either due to some sort of alcohol-related problem or suicide.

Saeko, from how she is characterized in the story, seems to be a very strong-willed and assertive person. In the aftermath of Yuki’s death, she's relatively composed and seems to have almost expected this to happen, although maybe not in the specific way it did. [Ex: When she tells Mafuyu that Yuki was always the type of person to die in a chicken race (a competition of pride, of sorts, that usually ends badly) and when she mentions him being similar to his father in that sense.]

In the flashbacks in the anime, when Mafuyu tells Yuki that his father beats him when he talks, Yuki’s response of ‘You know, a real father doesn’t do that.’ doesn’t sound like something a small child’s first response would be. It’s a bit of a reach-but considering that, as well as how prompt the response from his mother seemed to be (when Mafuyu’s father was jailed-not much time seems to have passed, and since both of their mothers are present, I've always assumed that Yuki's mother found out through her son and acted accordingly.),- it would make sense that Yuki might have some prior experience with this. Especially if his mother had gone through something similar-she probably would’ve warned him very strongly against the ideal his father had set, making Yuki want to be very far from that.

Speaking of which-I assume that Yuki probably had a very rough-if short-lived-relationship with his father when he was around. Given the stuff above, his father was probably someone who was emotionally volatile and tended to lose control when upset. If he had an alcohol problem, he might’ve caused a financial strain that fell onto Saeko as well.

Since his father was out of the picture and Saeko herself wasn't around as much as Yuki might've needed, it would have made him both very independent from his parents and adults in general, while also heavily reliant on Mafuyu (Hiiragi quotes both Mafuyu and Yuki to have been latchkey kids who found comfort in each other), both of which twist into the situation he found himself in later in life.

Leading into his teen years:

Yuki, as a young adult, is very independent-he works multiple jobs to pay for the expenses of being in a band, makes a point to avoid drinking, and is very affectionate towards Mafuyu. I'm not too sure about the reasoning behind why the four friends chose the high schools they did, but if Yuki's mother didn't directly influence that decision it's likely it was a choice made in direct relation to their band.

There's also very little interference from any adults in Yuki's life-namely, his mother. As someone who was probably very busy working as a single mother to support the two of them, her mentality was just to support him monetarily and let Mafuyu provide the emotional support in her place.

I think she also assumed her attempts wouldn't have been well received-most people noted how close Yuki and Mafuyu were and seemed to always assume that they had each other handled and that nobody had to worry about either of them because of it. In every way, it was simply easier to show Yuki she cared by not interfering and letting him hold the reigns of his own life.

A big indicator of this idea for me what when Saeko talked about how Yuki ordered his own ramen, the type he liked. It's a small thing, but it started me to read because it highlighted the amount of input his mother had on his life; which was very little. I don't know if he even used her money or chose to use the extra from his jobs to pay for it, but either way, it sort of put their relationship into perspective.

The impact it had:

Yuki probably had a lot of resentment towards his father, or, at the very least, a desire to turn out different. And oftentimes when a person is very strongly trying to avoid turning out like someone, they ignore or avoid acknowledging the similarities, rather than accepting and working on them to properly change. Without a strong parental/adult figure in his life, he wouldn't have considered insight beyond his own experiences. He's characterized to be moody and domineering, and Mafuyu is too soft-spoken to have brought up most issues until it reached its boiling point.

I believe Yuki might have had Borderline Personality Disorder to a mild extent. Some symptoms of BPD are mood swings, impulsivity, impaired social relationships, and a distorted self-image. They usually have thoughts of suicide or self-harming tendencies. When they feel insecure in relationships, in which they’re usually very, very invested, they tend to lash out or do rash things to keep them close.

Based on my relationships with the borderline people in my life, I've noticed that they usually bounce between having great confidence in themselves, to being incredibly insecure. It's hard to explain specifically, but they walk a fine line of being insecure and also maintaining a painfully strong ego, which makes them react very strongly when provoked, intentionally or not. Yuki and Mafuyu have a different type of relationship than I do with those people in my life which, for the two of them, means that Mafuyu probably had to provide lots of emotional support for Yuki, while also under the mild threat of Yuki coming to harm by his own actions.

Being with someone with these tendencies who is also unaware of them is very draining, especially for someone as mild and soft-spoken as Mafuyu is. Yuki tended to lead their relationship and was probably very noticeable when upset-and for someone who might not be used to speaking up or someone who has low self-confidence, it is difficult to bring up things. It doesn't feel safe if you don't know exactly how it would be received. Especially if they are the person you are closest to, it can be anxiety-inducing to try and bring up problems that don't seem to be incredibly important or unavoidable.

So, long story short-Yuki was closed off to receiving any kind of proper advice or criticism that would've saved him. Another symptom of BPD, as mentioned before, is suicidal ideation. So, if all these things are combined, it's a lot easier to see how he, surrounded by only his thoughts and ideas, would make the choice to take his own life when provoked.

It wasn't specifically that Mafuyu had caused his death, but more that he just sent him over the edge he had been teetering on for a long while. He was like his father in the sense that they had the same flaws that just came from different places. Yuki's pride came from the flip side of his insecurities and his own early independence, and his mental health issues as a whole are probably hereditary. The specificities of his death, where Yuki drinks after avoiding alcohol for his entire life, feels like he failed in his effort to avoid being like his father. He was different as a person but in the end, their flaws aligned and brought them to their end in parallels to each other.

Calling back to what his mom said-it doesn't feel unexpected. It is shocking, but not a surprise. Yuki was fiercely independent and wanted to learn and do new things, all on his own-including his own death and whatever follows after.

[I wrote this a while back and didn’t really like how most of it was speculation and hard to prove-but decided to post it anyway because I spent too much time on it lol.

Like I said before, most of this is just my head canons, but I hope it made sense! Feel free to add on with your stuff/arguments/headcanons :)]

[millllenniawrites]

enchanted (Poe Dameron x Reader)

part one of dear love of mine

summary: The last thing you wanted was to fall in love. That was your sisters’ job, to marry and have a small army of children for your mother to dote on. But when the man courting your eldest sister brings a mysterious guest to stay with your family for the summer, you may not have a say in the matter.

words: 1.5k

warnings: afab!reader; reader has a last name; regency au for the aesthetic but it’s historically inaccurate for the *vibes*; slow burn; sexual themes throughout; eventual smut; warnings will be added as the series progresses

a/n: the series i’ve been talking about for months is finally here!! Totally was supposed to post this yesterday but I forgot. I started outlining this after reading @writefightandflightclub ’s Regency Femdom Week 2020 fic Of Rears and Vices and watching Bridgerton was like taking steroids so here you go!! I haven’t done an actual series in a long time so i’m super stoked about this whole thang. this is a short chapter cause I want you guys to get to know the universe and the characters but the next few are gonna take some time because they are long bois 

__

You sat at the window, looking down at the long drive that led up to your estate. Lord Barnes was supposed to arrive before lunch and, though your stomach rumbled, you didn’t take your eyes off the horizon.

“You’re almost more nervous than I am.” Ana called.

You blinked quickly to allow your eyes a moment to adjust from the bright light outside to the dim interior of her room. Your sister stood in the doorway, her hair glinting in the sunlight. Her blue dress complimented her features and, even without the sun, you were sure she would have been glowing.

“You remember that I’m the one he’s courting, right?” Her slippered feet whispered against the floor as she crossed the room, hopping up into the window seat across from you.

“Of course I remember.” You flailed your leg out, striking her in the shin with your foot. “It’s only the happiest day of my dear sister’s life.”

She tossed a scrap of paper into your lap. On it, scrawled in a neat print, was yet another declaration of love from the strapping Lord Barnes for your sister.

You read aloud, “My dearest, Ana, how I do miss your gaze. The stars here are truly incomparable, having seen your eyes— Is this what men think is charming?!”

She snatched the paper from your hands. “I think it’s charming!”

As you laughed, you snorted, sending her into a fit of giggles right alongside you.

“I really do think he’s going to propose this time, Ana. And you know I’m happy for you.”

The summer prior, Lord Barnes had been in town on business, settling assets after the tragic death of his father. To distract himself from his mourning, he had begun going door to door, learning the names of the people who lived in the county he had so suddenly inherited.

Ana had not stopped talking about him since and, if his letters were any indication, he was just as charmed as she was.

“Of course I know that.” She turned around, flopping herself back into your lap. “You also know that by my marrying Lord Barnes, I’m helping you secure a suitable match.”

“A suitable match!” You couldn’t help but laugh again. “For Siena, yes. For me?”

“You cannot keep your nose in those books forever! I cannot let you. Don’t you think you’ll get lonely in this big house all by yourself?”

“A marriage would simply hand over our family’s legacy to whatever man decided to sign the papers. I do not think that is what Father would have wanted.”

She rested her elbows on your legs and leaned her chin onto her palms. “I think Father would have wanted you to be happy.”

With a roll of your eyes, you shoved your poor sister out of your lap and onto the floor. She landed with a soft grunt and a flurry of skirts and immediately tried to clamber back into your arms.

Ana loved to remind you that you would be tasked with taking care of the family property once your mother passed. She had seen it as such a burden that, even as the eldest of three girls, your parents had decided she could pass on the responsibility. Siena, the youngest of the three Dean daughters, was just as enamoured with the idea of marriage as Ana was, so the future of the estate had passed to you without complaint. Their wish was to be romanced and married. Yours was stability. And with your father gone, your mother wasn’t about to keep any of you from your true wishes.

Siena was in her room, no doubt pruning and prepping for the arrival of Lord Barnes — it didn’t matter that she wasn’t the sister he was coming to visit, she had reminded you —  and you did miss her presence as you and Ana shoved at each other and grappled for her letter. It was moments like this was you cherished, knowing that soon, handsome men would arrive and sweep your sisters away. Your house would be left empty of two of the most precious things you had ever beholden.

“Girls!” Your mother shouted, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You and Ana squished yourself together in the window seat. A dark carriage had begun it’s way up your drive.

“Girls!” She shouted again. “Come down here!”

You and Ana raced out of her bedroom and down the long staircase. Both out of breath by the time you reached the bottom, you clutched each other.

Your mother and Siena stood side by side, their arms crossed. They were mirrors of each other, their coiled hair pinned into place and eyebrows furrowed in distaste.

Siena turned her nose up at your giggling, but you could see a glint of playfulness in her eye. Though she tried to appear sophisticated, her twelve-year-old spirit wasn’t easily quelled, much to your mother’s dismay.

“Are you sure you’re ready to get married, sister?” Siena’s voice was soft, more like silk than sound.

“He hasn’t proposed yet. You needn’t be so serious.” She skated over to Siena and wrapped her arms around her sister’s middle, swinging her around.

“And when the Lord Barnes proposes, Ana will be quick to get ready. Just you watch.” Your mother winked at you before grabbing Ana’s arm, pulling her off Siena. “They are about to arrive. Go look presentable.” She shooed both your sisters towards the front doors before limping along behind them.

Mister Kirk, your family’s butler, stood off to one side. He was a thin man, the grey hair atop his head so thick that it looked as thought he might topple over at a moment’s notice.

You nodded your head to him. “Thank you for the work you’ve done setting up for our guest, Mr. Kirk.”

“It is my job, Miss Dean.” He said softly. Your sisters would have teased you about the fondness in Mister Kirk’s face had they been there, but the opening of the front doors had thoroughly distracted them. “And it is guests, Miss. More than just Lord Barnes is set to join us for the summer.”

You cocked your head but didn’t dare say more. It must have been a new development. Why else would your mother not share this with you?

You didn’t wait for Mister Kirk to elaborate, heading towards the open doors of your home.

The carriage pulled up right in front of the steps. A footman hopped down from the back of the carriage, setting a stool out before opening the door.

Lord Finneas Barnes stepped out of his carriage, grinning up at your family. “Hello Ladies Dean!” He called, waving grandly.

You all curtsied, a chorus of ‘Hello Lord Barnes’ causing his smile to widen further. “There’s no need for the formalities. Please. Call me Finn.”

Everything about him was refined, down to the buckles of his shoes. His dark hair had been done in waves, tight to his head, giving him the impression of wearing a crown. And he walked like it. His smile was sweet, but everything else about him oozed boldness and masculinity.

You could have sworn Ana nearly swooned beside you. A curious mischief glittered behind her eyes.

When you looked back to the carriage, another figure was stepping through the door.

The stranger tossed his head, his thick curls bouncing back away from his eyes to reveal his sharp features. He was dressed in blue, clearly a military uniform. Various pins on the front of his coat winked in the sunlight. His dark eyes quickly took in your family waiting on the steps and his dark eyes stalled when he reached you. Mouth quirking in a slight smile that had your heart racing, his gaze passed on.

The two men ascended the steps. Your mother curtsied again, the rest of you following behind her.

You could not take your eyes off the mysterious gentleman.

“This is General Dameron, I presume?” Your mother asked.

“The one and only,” Lord Barnes boasted, clapping the gentleman — General Dameron — on the back.

The General bowed. “Thank you for hosting us while the Barnes estate is renovated, Lady Dean. Your invitation for me to join Finn here was the best surprise I’ve had since the Coast.”

The Coast. You vaguely remembered hearing about the war from the girls in town last summer. They’d had brothers and fathers go to fight — and come back victorious, if your memory served you — but as your household was of only girls, you hadn’t been particularly invested in the news of battles that did not impact your family.

“It’s not a problem.” You heard your mother say.

Ana griped your arm, viciously whispering, “He’s quite handsome,” before dragging you back into the house.

You glanced back over your shoulder at the General and your mother politely discussing something — the topic of conversation could have been the weather for all you heard of it. It was as if your ears had been stuffed with cotton.

The General’s dark eyes met yours again and your breath caught. You tore your gaze away, snapping your head around to face forward.

It would be the last you’d see of him for the rest of the day.

[themovieblogonline]

Remembering John Cassaday: The Visionary

In the world of comic book artistry, few names carry as much weight as John Cassaday. The man was a legend—a true visionary who brought some of Marvel Comics’ most iconic stories to life with his stunning artwork. His passing at the age of 52 has left a massive void in the industry, but his impact on the comic book world will continue to inspire future generations of artists and readers alike. Known for his sleek, cinematic style, Cassaday didn’t just draw comics; he crafted immersive visual experiences that stuck with you long after you turned the last page. The Legacy of a Comic Genius John Cassaday’s body of work speaks for itself. He was the creative force behind some of Marvel Comics’ most celebrated titles, including Astonishing X-Men and Captain America. His art didn’t just complement the story—it elevated it. Whether it was Wolverine slicing through Sentinels or Cyclops standing tall as a leader, Cassaday’s ability to capture raw emotion in his characters made him a standout talent. And let’s not forget Planetary, the mind-bending sci-fi masterpiece he co-created with writer Warren Ellis. The series isn't just a hit with readers; it's a multiple Eisner Awards winner, solidifying Cassaday’s status as one of the best in the business. His detailed, yet minimalist style—combining powerful imagery with clean lines—was nothing short of iconic. He made you feel like you were watching a big-budget movie, all while flipping through a comic book. A Lasting Impact on Marvel Comics Cassaday’s influence on Marvel Comics cannot be overstated. His work on Astonishing X-Men redefined the franchise, breathing new life into characters like Cyclops, Wolverine, and Emma Frost. Collaborating with writer Joss Whedon, the duo gave fans a run of X-Men stories that still holds up today. Cassaday’s illustrations had a way of capturing both the grandeur of superhero life and the more intimate, human moments. You know, like when Wolverine’s rage would bubble up, or when Kitty Pryde faced off against the towering Danger Room sentinel. Cassaday was there to make sure every panel hit with the force of a mutant-powered freight train. But he didn’t just stop with Marvel. His work with other publishers, including I Am Legion and The Lone Ranger, showcased his versatility as an artist, able to tackle a variety of genres with finesse. A Tragic Loss at 52 The news of John Cassaday’s passing sent shockwaves through the comic book community. He was just 52, a tragically young age for someone so immensely talented. His sister, Robin, shares the heartbreaking news on social media. She reveals that Cassaday had been admitted to the ICU in New York just days before. While the exact cause of death hasn’t been confirmed, it was noted that his brain was the main concern, even though his organs and heart were functioning normally. Comic book creators and fans alike flooded social media with tributes to Cassaday, praising his unmatched artistic talents and offering condolences to his family and friends. As one of the industry’s leading lights, his death is a huge loss, but his legacy lives on through the incredible work he left behind. Final Thoughts: An Artist Who Shaped a Generation John Cassaday wasn’t just a comic artist—he was a storyteller, a visionary, and a trailblazer. From his contributions to Marvel Comics to his groundbreaking work on Planetary, Cassaday’s art helped define what modern comic books could be. His passing is a tragic loss, but his work will continue to inspire artists, writers, and readers for years to come. If you’ve never picked up a John Cassaday comic, do yourself a favor—grab a copy of Astonishing X-Men or Planetary and prepare to be blown away. The man was a master, and we were lucky to have him.