#i feel like i can come up with a better term

[senseandaccountability]

the narrative that could have been

Having mulled over the game for a couple of days I have realised that the main problem for me is that Veilguard is good based on the premises they ultimately choose, but not based on the set up and promise of what was there before. I know this isn’t a unique take by any means and yes it’s all about the Evanuris and the Veil and Solas. 

Replaying really emphasises how incredibly little the game convinces me of its original main quest - to prevent Solas from doing his ritual. This is a problem as a long-term player because for three games we’ve had build up for a great crescendo tackling the overarching themes of the (restrictions and oppression of) magic, of tears in the Veil, of religious tyranny and oppression based on myths about the Black City and the temptations of flawed humans, we’ve seen and deconstructed the elves quite a bit, we got started on the dwarves and in DAI your Inquisitor can openly ask Solas if it wouldn’t be better if the Veil came down because then spirits wouldn’t be separated from the living and risk becoming demons. Cole, whose function is to reflect the plot, talks endlessly about the old songs wanting to be sung again, about how it hurts to be cut off from part of yourself, how the templars feel it, how the mages feel it, how the elves and the dwarves feel it. The Veil as a prerequisite for life has been deconstructed, the Fade demystified, the gods have mostly fallen. The Veil as an actual wound inflicted on this earth has been presented as a theory and not been convincingly rejected by the narrative. 

The game actually gives no explanation whatsoever as to why the Veil coming down would be worse than what Rook causes in the beginning and what the escaped gods then do to the entire Thedas. The entire south falls to the Blight because Elgar’nan and Ghilan'nain are let loose. The Wardens are more or less wiped out. There’s enormous political turmoil. The game gives us Solas saying “thousands” would die when he brought the Veil down, but that he had a host of spirits there to help. (Yes, I know, his sole function in this game is to Trick and Deceive so who is to say if he’s lying, HUH, but even so, THE ENTIRE SOUTH FALLS TO THE BLIGHT IN ROOK’S VERSION OF THINGS.)

The game puts emphasis on Solas's questionable methods and past horrors but it doesn't ever explain why his goals are despicable here and now. It doesn't convince us that tearing down the Veil with lots of safety measures in place and after considerations is a bad result, all things considered - save for Varric’s initial yelling about demons. (We even learned in DAI that the Veil itself creates demons because it restricts the passage of spirits, come on.) Because three games have suggested it's not, not ultimately. Trespasser especially nuances this, just as it nuances Solas’s view of this current world state. Right after his long nap he would have nuked it all, I’m sure, but the whole point of character arcs is that things happen in them and what happened to him is that he was shown layers and angles he had not considered and adjusted his mindset and ultimately his plan accordingly. That is where DAV should have picked it up. That's where the build up was headed. But, now he must serve the narrative solely as the God of Treachery and Lies which means that previous build up is washed away for the most part. (In no way do I think he is OOC in DAV, I just want to point that out so nobody thinks I’m a sappy fangirl or whatever. I think he is perfectly in tune with his inner Dread Wolf, but that is also all he gets to be, because of the narrative, and I’m always much more interested in when roles and personas clash.) Again. The main problem is that the narrative cannot explain why bringing down the Veil would be the worse option than the shit we see unfold on screen. Instead it gets a bit lost in the past.  And I have Issues with that, as well.  Like, the dumbing down of the war against the Evanuris. The war that started because the leaders of the rebellion - who previously had to carry out terrible orders so the Evanuris, the upper crust of the Elvhenan, could play gods - decided that the Evanuris was a threat to them all. And the game gives us what, a depiction of how the rebellion ended up crossing lines, too? No shit.

Like, I am fully on board with the individual theme of regret on Solas’s part and he ought to be wrecked with guilt but I wish the game could be less all over the place with what sort of things he ought to be wrecked with guilt over. Saying fuck you to the Evanuris is the best and brightest of his character, I suppose I just don't want it dragged down to the same level as him breaking the Titans. I suppose I would have wished for a narrative that also worked on a systemic level when depicting things like, you know, war and revolutions and subjugation. But we don't have that, because DAV is only about personal choices. The Lighthouse crew flippantly writing the hierarchical and violent power struggle off as being about love and betrayal is on my shitlist forever. 

No, Taash et al, it was not about pussy, it was about feeling compelled by superiors to commit heinous war crimes and being lied to about the actual purposes of your damn war in the first place. The elves shouting at Elgar’nan and Mythal in this painting aren’t driven by love and sex they have been lied to by their ruling class. It was never about freedom or ending the wars, it was always about Elgar’nan jerking off to ultimate godhood. The writing even suggests betrayal here is to be understood as Netflix drama betrayal, maybe some juicy porny plot but it’s ABOUT THE BETRAYAL OF THE ELVES BY THEIR OWN KIN.  ((ETA: I would have wanted my Dalish mage to be allowed to be furious, NOT WITH SOLAS, but with the fucking Evanuris for betraying her people and being so fucking vile that the only option that remained was to create a world where she's a second-class citizen. I would have wanted the game to recognize that not all causes are equal and that Elgar'nan's cause for godhood was objectively more vile than Solas's cause for freedom because as it stands now, there are some really iffy vibes of "both sides are equally bad" and other things authorities tend to say when comparing destructive regimes with uprisings.)) I’m sorry, this shit hits me on a personal and political rage level. 

I also can’t help but mourn a game where the Trickster God fulfilled his trope’s duty and shook the stagnation apart with his actions - for good or ill, the way trickster gods are wont to do - and where Rook was tricked into helping and then, a more complex game about its consequences could have unfolded. The Evanuris could still have been the bad guys, if they wanted big villains frothing at the mouth. There could still have been numerous unplanned consequences, like all of Solas's plans have. Maybe other ancients awake as well. Maybe ancient evils who aren’t elves, who knows. Point is - the Veil should have come down, at least in some form, at least in some outcome. THAT is what they've been building up to. In this game that never was, Rook could be an actual interesting character where we could mold her as either accepting of this trickster role (which fits perfectly for a blank slate with no ties) or set to overturn it and enforce status quo, with some vanilla option in the middle. Maybe the Veil doesn’t come down until the very end of the game, ancient magic takes time after all, maybe a lot has happened by then. But ultimately, Rook’s choice in the end should not have been about siding against Solas because he’s lying to you or because he did horrible things in the past or siding with him because you want him redeemed. The narrative should have provided those options either way. The narrative should have been brave enough to suggest that hey, maybe Solas isn't wrong at all - his methods maybe, but his goal, no. If they truly wanted mirrors between Rook and Solas, Rook should have tackled the issue of actively bringing down the Veil herself, not because it's a roses and sunshine-outcome but because it might very well be the lesser of two evils. Gods, that would have been interesting. It should have been a choice about what sort of world Rook and the Veilguard wants to see in the future. It should have been about the people, the world, not how angry Rook is that an ancient elf has tricked her. 

That would have been the game I wanted to play.  This story doesn't really give anything new to the world of Thedas, which a world without the Veil would have. It accomplishes closure for our favourite trickster god and bless them for that, but as for the plot and the world-building it ends on a meh because the narrative isn't about the people unless they're brought up as being endangered. This is why I can feel satisfaction regarding the thematic conclusion to certain character arcs, the trickster becomes the healer with the bloodiest hands, the wolf submits willingly to his trap and so on and so forth, and I can have fun with the characters and their arcs but also really mourn the game that was there, in subtext and build up over three previous games and in several tie-ins.

[schemmentigfs]

Sweetening The Deal. (part 2.)

Summary: Melissa finds out more about your tough reality and the deal between you continues, bringing the stability you needed. Meanwhile, she proposes something unexpected.

Tags: @italianaidiota @lisaannwaltersbra @greencurlyhair

Part 1. Part 3.

Two weeks had passed since that night at La Sirena, and things had fallen into a rhythm — or as close to a rhythm as you could get with Melissa Schemmenti calling the shots. You’d met her twice since then, at the same restaurant, each time sitting across from her as she set the terms of your arrangement with that same intensity in her eyes. True to her word, she’d sent over an envelope of cash every week, enough to cover your rent and leave you with some breathing room. But there was still a distance between the two of you, a formality that you held onto as a reminder to keep things strictly business.

Her texts came at unpredictable times, always short but direct, and she’d even called you once, her voice teasing yet unmistakably firm. You could tell she liked control and was meticulous in keeping things on her terms. She didn’t ask questions about your day-to-day life, but you had a feeling she saw more than you were letting on.

Then, one afternoon, her name lit up your screen again:

You’re home, right? Text me your address. I want to see where and in what conditions you live, darling.

You froze. Her messages always carried a certain finality, a tone that made it clear you weren’t to question her decisions. The text felt like a verdict, not a suggestion. You had no choice but to obey, but still you’d tired to stalled with vague excuses, insisting it wasn’t necessary, but she was having none of it.

Are you sure about this? My apartment complex is not in the best condition. Maybe we could meet another day? you quickly typed back, nerves prickling.

Honey, I’ll come by tonight after my meeting, she’d texted, with that self-assured tone that didn’t leave much room for debate. Just make sure the place is unlocked for me. Okay?

You swallowed hard. You couldn’t even remember the last time you felt so out of control. Fuck this situation, you were never out of control. Melissa Schemmenti was doing things to you that seemed to awaken a submissive side of yourself that you didn’t even know you had.

Reluctantly, you agreed. Understood. I’m waiting for you, just please don’t notice the mess in the apartment. It’s a little old.

The redhead’s response made you choke on your own saliva. Good girl, see? You can follow orders when you are supposed to. And about the mess, don’t you worry. I just want to see what I'm dealing with, Y/N.

Her words make your stomach flip, and your cheeks flush. She knows exactly the effect she has on you, even from behind a fucking screen. You’re not sure if it’s the blunt command or the way she casually assumes you’ll fall in line, but something about her confidence, her control, always leaves you breathless.

You tossed your phone on the bed and groaned, throwing yourself backward onto the mattress, the soft scent of stale air and clutter filling the room. It wasn’t much of a space, and you weren’t exactly proud of it, but it was yours. Still, it felt too small when you thought about her. When you thought about how she was used to finer things, and this place... well, this place felt like a damn joke.

Two weeks. Only two weeks have passed since that night, but already, she’s gotten under your skin in ways you can’t shake. Her presence in your life feels constant, grounding, and somehow.... electrifying. It’s like she’s rewired you to respond to her — one word from her and you’re falling into place, waiting for whatever she asks next.

Another text pops up. I’m arriving at five. You better be prepared, beautiful.

Great, you only got two hours left.

You spent hours trying to make your tiny apartment look presentable, straightening up, hiding the chipped paint on the walls with old posters, and dimming the lights to make it seem warmer. You stopped in front of the mirror checking if your appearance was alright. You’d tossed a pile of laundry into the closet, stacked dishes haphazardly, and even dabbed on a bit of makeup in a rush. But no matter what you did, there was no hiding the worn-out furniture.

And as you stood in your cramped kitchen, waiting for her to arrive, you couldn’t help feeling out of place, like this wasn’t where she belonged.

“Fuck, fuck,” you rubbed your eyes with your hands. “I’m fucked. What will she think of me?”

A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door, and your stomach twisted with nerves and sicknesses. When you opened it, there she was—Melissa Schemmenti, cool and collected in an all-black outfit, and a ponytail, her sleek black sunglasses pushing her authority to another level. She took her giant and expensive sunglasses off as she surveyed the space, her gaze moving slowly over the cracked walls and mismatched furniture. Her expression barely shifted, but you could sense the judgment simmering beneath the surface.

The building smelled like old wood and dust, and the hallways felt narrower than they ever had before. You hated the way your surroundings felt — the peeling wallpaper, the noisy neighbors, the ever-present sense of grime that seemed to coat every surface. It was humiliating, honestly, but you couldn’t escape it.

Melissa didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe she didn’t actually care. She walked past you, her red louboutin heels clicking against the wooden floor, and into your tiny apartment without hesitation.

“Well, this is…” the redhead paused, taking a long look around. “...quite the environment.” Her raspy voice was cold, but it wasn’t supposed to sound mean and teasing. It was just blunt, like she was simply stating a fact. You winced, standing awkwardly by the door as she took in the dismal conditions.

“I don’t usually bring people here,” you mumbled, feeling your face flush. “It’s just temporary. Until I find a new job that pays more. I’m looking for something better.”

Melissa ignored your excuse and walked further into the apartment, her green eyes scanning every inch of the cramped space with calculated precision. Her black sunglasses hung loosely from the collar of her shirt, disguising the cleavage that seemed to jump and have a life of its own. What? Focus, your asshole! It’s not appropriate to watch her boobs. Oh, boy, you felt like a child under her scrutiny.

“So,” she quips, knowing the answer is obvious, “This is where you live, pretty girl?”

You rubbed the back of your neck, touching the small amount of baby hair. Your cheeks were heating with embarrassment. “Mmm...it’s not exactly glamorous, but it’s affordable.”

“If you call this affordable...” She scrunches her nose, feeling the smell of something dirty.

You took a shaky breath, feeling the heaviness of her gaze, as she leaned back slightly, crossing her arms in that familiar way that told you she was completely in control. She hadn’t even removed her jacket, and already it felt like she had rearranged the whole atmosphere of the place. As if she were shifting you and your life by sheer will alone.

“This,” the older woman said, lifting one of the crumpled bills, her tone cool and unyielding, “is unacceptable. You’re moving out. And I don’t want to hear a single word against it.”

“Wait, what?” you widen your eyes.

“So here’s how it’s going to work. You’re moving. I’ve already picked out a place for you in a decent neighborhood, and you’ll have what you need there. None of this…” She gestured around your small apartment with a mild look of disdain. “…dumpster shit situation. You’ll have a clean space, safe, without worrying about rent or broken pipes. And I don’t want to hear a single word against it.”

You opened your mouth, heart racing, wanting to protest. “Ma’am, I don’t need—”

Before you could finish, she closed the space between you, her manicured hand gripping your chin in a way that was both commanding and unsettlingly gentle. Her thumb brushed your cheek as her eyes bored into yours, making your stomach flip. “I said no arguments. You’re better than this place, honey. Now call your boss.”

You blinked, flustered, feeling the heat rising in your cheeks as her fingers stayed firm on your chin. She tilted her head, her gaze unrelenting, and you found yourself swallowing hard, nerves prickling. A gush of wetness dripped into your underwear. That felt good. And for a split second, you imagined how her fingers would feel around your neck. Or maybe somewhere else..

The truth was that you weren’t used to someone like Melissa—someone who didn’t just ask but demanded, without hesitation, and with an absolute certainty that her wishes would be met.

“Go on,” the redhead prompted, pulling her phone from her bag and pressing it into your hand. “This ends now.”

“Schemmenti,” you sigh quietly. “I..can’t.”

“Call. Your. Fucking. Boss.” Her words came out slower this time, her voice both reassuring and intimidating, the kind of authority that was impossible to ignore.

Your hands trembled as you reached for your phone, scrolling to your boss’s number. She kept her hold on your chin for a moment longer before releasing you, her green eyes watching every movement with quiet satisfaction. The reality of what you were about to do started to sink in, and you felt like you were on the verge of spiraling, like you were teetering on the edge of something irreversible.

As the phone rang, you stole a glance at Melissa. She leaned against the counter, arms crossed, exuding a calm authority that both irritated and reassured you. You had to admit—no one had ever looked at you the way she did. Like she was willing to strip away everything if it meant giving you something better. But even as you stumbled through your brief conversation with your boss, quitting the job you’d held for far too long, a flicker of rebellion rose in you.

“What if I don’t want to move?” you managed once the call ended, a spark of defiance in your voice. You could see the hint of a smirk playing on her lips.

She lifted an eyebrow, that smirk intensifying. “You’re cute when you act tough,” she said, brushing past you to examine a stack of books on a rickety shelf. The dust covering her fingertips. “But I’m not interested in games. I’m giving you a choice. You can either stay here, or you can let me take care of you. But you can’t have it both ways.”

You wanted to argue, to fight her on it, but your lips trembled with uncertainty. “But, I... I can’t just leave. This place—it’s all I have. I—”

The redhead stepped closer, green eyes flashing with a rare, intense frustration. “You think this is optional?” she yelled sharply through the small space, leaving no room for doubt. “I’m doing this for you, and if you can’t accept that, maybe we’re done here. You either take my help, or this arrangement is over.”

Your heart dropped, and a pang of desperation flared up inside you. The last thing you wanted was for her to walk out and leave you standing there, with only the smell of her perfume lingering behind. You felt your knees buckle, and before you knew it, you were on the floor, clutching at her sleeve, gazing up at her in pleading silence.

“Please,” you whispered. “Don’t go. Don’t end this.”

Her lips quirked into a dark smile, her eyes traveling slowly down to where you knelt before her. “Already on your knees for mommy? Maybe you’re finally learning.”

The heat in her eyes made your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and yet, some part of you thrilled at her approval, that faint but undeniable satisfaction in her body language.

You swallowed hard, feeling her fingers brush over your cheek as if savoring your quiet submission, and your pulse raced. She stepped back and tilted her head toward the door, her expression softening just a little. “Now get up. You’re coming with me tonight.”

You blinked, surprised. “Where?”

“To my place,” she said, her tone decisive. “No sense in staying here another night. You’ll see what it’s like to live somewhere better.”

Nervously, you gathered your things, feeling a strange thrill at the idea of seeing her home, even as the reality of this shift in your life sunk in. In a blur, you found yourself in her sleek, black car, barely speaking as she drove. And when you finally stepped into the garage of her penthouse, it felt like you’d entered another world—one of order, elegance, and effortless luxury, all touched with her unmistakable presence.

You couldn’t believe this was where you were spending the night, and the thought made your heart pound with nervous excitement. Even in this new space, with her watching you, you still felt that familiar mix of shyness and thrill.

Melissa’s penthouse was everything your cramped apartment wasn’t: sleek, spacious, and expensive. The moment you stepped inside, you felt a little like you’d walked into a magazine spread, the kind of place you’d only ever imagined for people like her. Everything was polished marble and soft, warm lighting, a quiet sense of power and control in every line and surface. It was so distinctly her—refined, commanding, even a little intimidating. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place, no matter how much she’d insisted on bringing you here.

“Make yourself at home,” she said, dropping her keys onto a side table. She gestured to a hallway on your right. “The bathroom is down there. You can get cleaned up before dinner if you want.”

Grateful for a moment to compose yourself, you headed to the bathroom, which was easily twice the size of your entire apartment. After freshening up, you found an oversized shirt on your backpack that you had prepared for you earlier.

Dinner was surprisingly casual. She’d ordered from a high-end Chinese place nearby, and as you both sat at the table, she poured you a glass of wine, studying you with a cute smile that made your stomach flutter. She was still very much in control, still the same assertive woman who’d marched into your life two weeks ago and decided she was going to change it. And yet, tonight, there was a gentler side to her. She asked you about things you’d never thought she cared to know, small details about your life and tastes, and for once, you felt like she was letting you into her world.

After dinner, she led you to the guest bedroom where you’d be staying. It was just as lavish as the rest of her home, with an enormous bed, plush sheets, and a view of the city lights twinkling against the night sky. You took a moment to freshen up again, glancing at yourself in the mirror and smoothing down your hair, wondering if she’d think you looked good enough for her standards.

Then, on your way to find her again, you noticed the door to her room was ajar. You knew you shouldn’t, but curiosity got the best of you, and you peeked in. There she was, her back to you, undressing in the dim light. You couldn’t help but stare for a moment, taking in the lean, defined muscles of her back, the soft curves that hinted at a life of both strength and indulgence. Her skin was pale, smooth, and there was something undeniably mesmerizing about the way she moved, graceful and unhurried, like she knew exactly who she was and didn’t care who saw it.

And then, there was her…you couldn’t help but notice it, a part of her you hadn’t seen before, and your cheeks warmed as you realized you were staring into her pale ass. You felt a pang of embarrassment, quickly averting your eyes and stepping away before she could catch you. You’d never imagined she’d have that kind of effect on you, making you feel like some bashful kid with just a glimpse of her body.

Even though you’d only seen her for a second, your mind replayed the image of her exposed skin—her back, her pale ass—again and again. You were flushed, still unsure of what it all meant, or why your heart raced at the thought of what you'd just witnessed. It was almost like you were crossing some invisible line in your head, and it scared you.

You quickly shook your head, clearing your thoughts, and made your way back toward the living room, trying to avoid thinking about what you’d just seen. Melissa, however, never knew. She didn’t even acknowledge it when you rejoined her in the main area, as if nothing had happened. The nonchalance with which she moved, made your thoughts scatter once more.

Later that night, she kissed you goodnight, but it wasn’t like the kisses before. This one, lingering, almost brushing your lips, made your heart jump in your chest. The redhead woman didn’t pull away immediately, letting the moment stretch just a little longer than usual. You stood there, stunned, your breath shaky as she pulled back, leaving you with an almost electric buzz in your body.

Green eyes met yours, cool but somehow warm at the same time. “Sleep well, sweetheart. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Melissa.”

You couldn’t quite breathe properly as she turned, walking back toward her room, leaving you alone to process what had just happened. Your brain was spinning, unsure of what you were getting yourself into, but you knew one thing for sure. You were already in too deep to turn back.

And as you lay down in the guest bedroom, your body still warm from the kiss, the image of her naked skin lingered in your mind, both haunting and thrilling you in equal measure.

[mellxncollie]

hiiii alex and now i have no choice but to drop all the process info and the outtakes :)

overall impression: very lovely and moody and spooky!! i kinda expected more blood-reds from devlin house but i should've known better, you wouldn't go for something that cliché. as always the shots you chose are SO good, love the combo of very dramatic shots with way more subtle ones!

aaaaa okay okay yes definitely not a lot of 'expected' shots in this one. couple reasons for this:

episode 3 is not one that i can watch very much, there's too many triggers in there for me. it's only very recently that i'm now able to rewatch it in its entirety, and i still have a hard time screencapping for it. so... not too many gifs from inside the devlin house

not a lot of shots in these episode work well for these palette sets. unlike all the other episodes, this one does not have many establishing shots or wide shots, which are the ones i like to use for these gifs. of the few establishing shots that are used, many are relatively static, so they don't look great as gifs. plus a lot of the devlin house shots have flashing lights and/or are very short. this made it really difficult to just find scenes that would work

so, this is a little less of a cohesive set than the other two, and i think the rest of the episodes will have more cohesive palette sets than this one as well. i love how this episode is shot, cheryl dunye's avoidance of 'filler' shots really reminds me of her film the watermelon woman, and while that movie does have more wide shots and more cohesive colors, the focus in on the characters as opposed to the backgrounds is what makes this episode feel so much like her work. it really drives home this episode as a standout in terms of writing, visuals, and direction.

it just also... breaks out of a form that i rely on to make these gifs work. so: less cohesive colors. i'm glad that this didn't exactly come across, and that we still have a kind of moody vibe :)

gif 1: cindy my beloved!! oh my god i need to see edwin laughing like that. i need CHARLES to see edwin laughing like that! and niko is so precious, i love her and her green coat. speaking of! love the way she moves past the colour blocks and almost adds contrast to them until she reaches the green and basically blends in?? SUCH a cool effect. and i love the colours themselves, the green + goldish vibe is everything. the green in the shot is so dramatic that it's like a fun little puzzle to find the rest of the colours! and then you realise, oh wait, that's the majority of the picture. ceiling, chairs, cabinet, niko and cindy's hair. and cindy being represented by the colour palette, drawing her undeniably into the picture because she can actually be seen by everyone around her, the opposite of ghostly, is SO cool. and then the contrast of the bright (blueish?) white?? the way it contrasts so much with niko's coat that at first i couldn't see where you got it from, only when niko moves back it blends perfectly into the window in the background?? olly you are a GENIUS

honestly i didn't really realize how this looks with niko's movement adjusting how the green and the blue all suddenly mix in with the rest of the gif!! but you're right, it's very cool!

this gif was a bit of a challenge, and with all those browns i initially thought it might be on the chopping block. but then i came around to liking it enough to make it the first gif in the set.

here's a before/after of the colors i put on it, and you can see that the blue is basically not even in the original shot, and it was only after i adjusted the blue channel to decrease that yellow tint that the blue really showed up.

gif 2: JENNY JENNY JENNY! this is a wild one because it's such a mundane part of the scene and yet i can't stop looking at the dramatic colouring. SHE!!! also the colours you chose feel very similar to the jenny gif from ep1, which, to be clear, i mean SO positively. i love that it ties them together! also something something jenny in her black clothes being surrounded by so much colour as symbolism to what crystal and niko bring to her life. brb crying

out of all the gifs in this set, this is definitely one of my favorites. mostly just cause the shot is really cool, nothing to do with the colors or anything. but speaking of the colors!! yes they're a lot like the ep 1 gif, and it's so fascinating to me how they pack so many hues into jenny's shop via the lighting.

gif 3: HI SPOOKY SHOT OF ALL TIME 😍😍😍 one of those dramatic ones i NEVER want to look away from. loveeeeeee the red-orange reflections on them, the purple of crystal's coat, the blue of edwin's shirt. also getting into the symbolism again but the way most of the colours are drawn from crystal and the background (even the blue is present in her grey shirt/jacket/whatever that is) and it makes the boys feel even more ghostly. ESPECIALLY CHARLES?? WHO ONLY RECEIVES RED BACKLIGHTING?? AND SPENDS THE EP GRAPPLING WITH HIS OWN HELPLESSNESS?? THE ONLY ONE UNTOUCHED BY BLUE (AKA SYMBOLIC OF HEAVEN)?? I'M MAKING MYSELF SICK WITH THIS OH GOD

yipeee!! one of my favorite shots of this episode, but one of my least favorite shots in the whole series to gif (that i've been making gifs of more and more to force myself to figure out how to do it best) and honestly because of that, i wasn't sure if this would make the final cut either.

here's two recent(ish) uses of this scene in various gifsets, both of which i don't really like how the final gif turned out.

this is because the original shot is....

so aggressively blue/green on their faces and that it is very difficult to make this look good.

i wanted the final gif for this set to be a bit more orange and a bit less red, but i'm glad i kept the more red toned backlight, since that allowed gif 8 to feel different enough. and i'm actually pretty okay with how this one turned out, espeically because you get the purple and the blues in their costumes.

also, just for fun, here's what this gif would look like if i did some normal brightening and coloring, but didn't do anything to fix their skintones 🫠

and yeah. god. thinking about charles 'untouched by blue.' fuck.

gif 4: SUCH a lovely little shot! the blues from edwin's outfit, the greenish-gray i'm guessing from the stripes (very nice and subtle, love the choice to emphasise them!), the white from his shirt. and then BAM, gold for the bracelet of homosexuality. but even then it's a very subtle colour choice for it, i can see some of the background is the same colour, even the darker parts of edwin's shirt cuffs. it's like you, via the palette, are helping him hide the bracelet and. i'm just in love

one of my favorite gifs in this set! it is really fun, and you got all the color sources right! i did want to include another color from the bracelet, but most of the colors i was sampling just didn't look too good with the blues, so i used the white from his shirt and i think that really worked.

gif 5: monty!! the return of niko's green coat!! love the cool (ha!) colours, mixed in with the warmer browns. the blue is so subtle in monty's plaid shirt (and the port townsend sign if i'm not mistaken?) the brown/burgundy in monty's scarf and shirt and the trees in the background really draws it all together! plus the green in both niko's coat and the trees' leaves! also interesting to see here the colours you didn't choose for the palette, like the white of niko's hair and monty's books. not to get too deep into it but it feels like a sign that it's not niko monty's trying to connect to, even though edwin isn't even in the frame! and the darker brown feels sort of similar to edwin's coat but that might just be grasping at straws lmao

the blue is from monty's shirt, yeah! this one was hard to pick colors for, and you totally got it with all the colors i'm leaving out. also because of the 540px x 500px frame size, we're also leaving out edwin from this shot. so maybe there's something there too about leaving out colors. (and now that i'm looking at it again, i do think that off-white would have been a great way to tie this palette together)

gif 6: OH DEVLIN HOUSE WE'RE REALLY IN IT NOW. obsessed with the way you subverted expectations with the devlin house being so blue and monotone, vs how we tend to read it as this dramatic high-stakes situation with so much blood spilled. again with the symbolism but it feels like it speaks so much more to the nature of the thirty-year (!!!) loop and how to the victims of it it's not dramatic but just the same cycle they can't get out of. over and over and over. and crystal and charles' expressions in this one OUGH. crystal trying immediately to find a way to help, to free these women, and charles is seeing his worst nightmare and trying desperately to suppress it. again, charles' helplessness represented by none of his colours making it onto the palette, even though his shirt is still pretty red. his hero colour is represented only as its worst in this house

i wanted at least one mostly monotone gif in this set, and the devlin house is predominantly teal and yellow, so it's such a strong contender for a monotone shot. problem with the yellows is that they're hard to make look good if there's a person in frame, so blues it was! i had a lot of blue shots to choose from, because every time the loop resets the power cuts and they're plunged into darkness. and i think there's something really symbolic there for charles (oh and now i'm thinking about the way that he drops into the water in the next episode when the night nurse forces the flashback)

and yeah, the first two colors are sampled from crystal's clothes, and the final three are from the wall. and now that i think of it, none of these palettes use colors sampled from charles/his clothes, despite this being really his episode. makes me think about what you said for the tube gif in the ep 1 set, how not sampling from them makes them more of a ghost in their own gif. anywayyyysssssssss

gif 7: can i just say. obsessed with the parallels of the last two gifs, showing the pre- and post-devlin house feelings? at first i thought this one was from the end of ep3, after gif 8, but just from seeing charles and crystal's interaction it's obviously not OUGH. love the wide shot of them (and the cinematography lessons!! the focus falloff at the top. i am Looking), the greens of the trees and the brown of the leaves and the purple of crystal's coat (ooh and the sign!). some of the purple even seems to come across in charles' jacket! and the blue of the statue also being in edwin and charles' socks and crystal's shirt. it ties them all together in a way that contrasts so much with the effect devlin house has in breaking them apart. forever emotional about ittttt

so this one is actually post-devlin house. it's right as charles says he's fine and right before niko shows up. it's the last gif in this set chronologically, but i don't really go by chonological order in these sets, since i want the first and last gifs to be strong, and i don't want any two palettes side-by-side to feel too similar.

i am now thinking about how charles and crystal's interaction in here realllllyyyyy doesn't feel like post-devlin house.

anyway. colors. yeah. that purple being the same in crystal's coat and the sign was such a blessing. and every time i throw a surprise blue in to these palettes i think of you. it definitely is the bit that pulls this palette together.

(yes i was also thinking about the focus falloff here, it is soooo wildly intense in this shot)

gif 8: AND FINAL SHOT. devlin house is over (or is it??) the colours nearly blending in with the background and then contrasted against charles' coat. i'd say SYMBOLISM but i'm sure you're sick of hearing it by now lmaooo. the bright lights in the background are SO striking. and the green??? the way it reflects so dramatically against the orange specifically on edwin's face??? i know that's not death's light shining on them but it sure is interesting how often edwin is the one bathed in that colour of light.......... also this might be a reach but the way crystal's jacket/hoodie/whatever seems to be a similar shade of green-grey, tying her and edwin together as having found common ground in the devlin house, vs charles again being the least represented by the colour palette -- devlin house might be over but he still feels helpless. i'm sure nothing bad will come of that!

the first 10ish frames of this gif are some of my favorites in this entire episode. i just love how this shot looks, and if it was a bit longer, i wouldn't have even had them running into frame. but that little bit of the trio that we do get is so interesting to get to hear you talk about. because i was not paying attention to how they blend in (or don't) to the palette.

--

so. what about the outtakes? first we have this one:

really like this shot. couldn't figure out the palette. i wanted some of that green from the interior wall of the attic space, but it doesn't sample as very green (yay for color theory!) and the few pixels that do sample as green do not look very good next to the rest of the colors.

here's the other outtake gif:

now that i'm looking back at the whole set, i think this one would have been a really good addition to make the whole set feel more cohesive, but i'm not sure which gif i would have cut instead to keep it at 8, so that's probably why i cut it in the first place. this one is kind of fun since the green is not from niko at all, but from the grass below. i initially made this gif with a monochrome palette, but right before i exported it, i noticed just how much green is in there, and decided to use some of it. glad i did, and i am really happy with this gif.

i'd say i can never be normal about this but you already know that. love this, love you, thank you forever for blessing us with your gorgeous gifs!!!

i'm so glad that you can't be normal about these because i also can't be normal about making gifs and i love that i get the opportunity to do this kind of breakdown for them. thank you thank you thank you alex. you're wonderful!!

Dead Boy Detectives (2024) 1.03 — The Case of the Devlin House (insp)

[certifiedsexed]

hey there! i don’t mean this in bad faith at all, and i’m not trying to use a term that’s a fascist dogwhistle. i promise i’m just confused😭

so i’m not a guy, nor have i ever been perceived as one, but in one of your recent posts, you said that men can’t experience oppression solely based on the fact that they’re men. which was kind of confusing to me — i don’t think you’re wrong, i think it’s me but i don’t know how to get to how you see it like that.

because in my experience, men can experience oppression because they’re men, although i don’t know if i’m saying that right or conflating the meanings of certain terms. i’m probably wrong, and would just love some clarification?

for example, my brother and i were always held to different standards growing up — it was expected of me to always cry and be emotional, and i was a ‘stone cold bitch’ if that wasn’t the case, but if my brother wanted to show negative emotions like sadness he was treated like there was something wrong with him too. and i know it wasn’t my brother — i spend a lot of time working with my high school’s diversity team, and in a lot of the events we organise, guys talk about how they feel enormous pressure to be angry and never sad, and to have stereotypically masculine interests and never deviate from that norm.

i also know men who’ve struggled to get jobs such as teaching as those are viewed as ‘female’ jobs and it’s a common view that men who want those jobs are ‘only in it to be around kids’. i’ve heard many women around me perpetuate sentiments like that, so i know they’re not making it up, even if it isn’t equal to the systematic oppression women face in almost every aspect of their careers.

i’m not providing these examples to prove you wrong, since i do think you’re right. i’m hoping that a window into the way i’ve always thought might help you clarify this in a way that can help me to change my mind, since i just think i’m lacking some clarity or context here. i think i’m conflating abuse and stereotypes with oppression, but i’m really not sure. any advice would be really appreciated!

i’m so sorry if this comes off badly, i don’t mean it that way. i’m just trying to learn, i promise i’m not trying to promote the kind of hate and close mindedness you’ve been seeing in your inbox as of late.

Hi! As always, I do not mind answering genuine questions!

The things you're talking about growing up and seeing boys around you pressured to present only certain emotions, that's part of the patriarchy!

Certain emotions are supposed to be "feminine" and thus boys shouldn't show them, while girls are often always considered "emotional" in some fashion. That's not oppression based on those boys being men that you're talking about.

It's the backlash that the patriarchy, and by addition trans/misogyny has on men. It's boys being pressured not to show certain emotions because those emotions are "feminine" and they're supposed to associate feminimity with weakness and shit.

What you're talking about there is also trans/misogyny!

The idea that men who do things perceived as feminine are predators, the idea that specific jobs are "female" jobs [while even in those specific female jobs, men are generally paid better and find it easier to get into those jobs than women trying to get into traditionally "male" jobs"]

[Though obviously this varies based on race and whether they're trans, etc, etc.]

To be a little more clear, all of the things you're talking about don't primarily affect cis men/boys. They fuck up transfems, because it's trans/misogyny.

You're right! It's not systemic oppression.

You might wonder if it's social oppression, which is also a no. Social oppression would require a historical/systemic oppression behind it. But that doesn't exist in this case.

What it is is the common issue oppressors run into. While they benefit greatly from oppression, there is also backlash they face from their own systems of oppression.

Like white people who fall into suicide cults trying to work towards white supremacy, or TERFs who fall into groups where they slowly pick each other off as they discover they're not all exactly the same and wind up accusing each other of not being "real" women, systems of bigotry simply do not work out perfectly even for the oppressors.

They never do.

To create the patriarchy, you must establish trans/misogyny, you must establish intersexism and you must push people to conform to those ideals, even if they hurt your own.

It's similar to how white supremacy can harm white people, despite white people obviously not being oppressed racially. The backlash of oppression hits even the oppressors sometimes.

Suppression, as a term, would honestly work far better to describe what you're talking about.

So yes, it's stereotyping, yes it's abusive to tell your children not to show/feel their emotions but it's not oppression based on these guys in your life being men! It's part of how trans/misogyny, transphobia and intersexism are enforced.

I understand exactly where you're coming from! It doesn't sound bad and I genuinely don't mind answering questions! Especially since you've got some good ones!

I'm not sure if I rambled too much to explain this properly but I hope this helps! Let me know if you have any other questions and/or need me to clarify anything here. <33

[merakiui]

going back to read your contractual fwb azul cause it’s my favourite fic ever and i have to wonder; what would azul do if you never used his wishes to your own advantage? like it was always small stuff, so you ended up having to get a new job (sex is banned and let’s pretend like theres some random cafe on sage island or something like that you’re picking up shifts. just not the monstro lounge) and the hours you work there give him less time. would he beg you to use his money? to take advantage of him? it feels like the terms he picked also come from a domestic standpoint of wanting to provide for you. and your new job is really getting in the way of that. rely on him and no one else >:(

(also i’d like to imagine you falling asleep sitting in his lap in his office chair sometime before the confession so he carries you back to his room and you spend the night. the next morning you wake up to him pulling away and in your extremely sleep deprived mind you get upset that he’s leaving. cue him promising he’ll be back—maybe a quick round just so he can get you to wish it and no it’s definitely not because he wants sleepy morning sex—and eventually he comes to wake you back up with flowers, tea (you know the one), and telling you you have a day off somehow.) thank you for listening to my tiny brain rambles

hiiiiiii this is just a question i forgot to add to my last ask that i submitted like 2 seconds ago.

how does your relationship with azul go now that you’re actually in one and not just fwb? like does he still spoil you with whatever you ask for in exchange for sex or just give it to you and sex happens whenever? (more than the average couple cause, cmon) he gave you the fish shoes even though you lost so it stands that he’d spoil the hell out of you whenever he can

- - -

Hi hiiii!! :D omg contractual fwb tako..... I miss thinking about that fic. Peak Azul is him developing a relationship with darling via contractual means and slowly but surely the feelings shift (through dubious efforts hehehe). >:D that dynamic is just so *chef's kiss*!!!!!

Oooo if reader got a job!!! If not at the lounge, which is secretly what Azul hopes, then the place better pay good wages and the hours and work better be reasonable!! >:( he won't have his angelfish struggle. Maybe he'd even visit you during your shifts on occasion and make up some excuse like "I need to know what sort of competition the lounge has" blah blah blah etc etc even though it's quite clear he's checking up on you. T_T I like to think Azul wants you to take advantage of him because it's a deal in which you're both using the other for certain things, so wouldn't that make the most sense?? That's how the logic works in his give-and-take, equivalent-exchange brain.

Azul gets really particularly when it comes to giving gifts and he always seems to want a valid reason for the exchange (like in Glomas where he buys souvenirs for his dorm so that they can remember this good deed and know that they are technically indebted to him even though to Deuce and Epel it appears as though he's just being a kind Housewarden). But also,,, he's so iffy when it comes to accepting gifts himself and always seems to think there's some underlying reason behind it. ^^;; perhaps he'd just feel more comfortable if you were openly using him and this deal to your benefit just as he's doing the same with you. It's probably why he even makes the terms so domestic because, beneath all of the pompous showmanship and businessman flair, he genuinely wants to provide for you and make your life better and be your beloved. <3 but because he's Azul he can't just tell you that. >_<

AAAAA FALLING ASLEEP IN HIS OFFICE!!!!! OTL waking up in his bed all bleary-eyed and sleepy....... grabbing at his arm and begging him to stay,,, the sleepy morning sex... maybe it's the one moment he allows just some of his defenses to fall because most of yours are nonexistent in this moment. Having sex just to have sex without any thoughts about your contract..... of course he's still going to remind you later and insist you use one of your wishes/favors since you technically indulged him with sex, but then you wanted it, too. He's so fussy!!!! Please just ask him for something—anything! He isn't going to beg, but sometimes you really do make him contemplate it when you're so determined to not make use of him and his connections.

You're one of Azul's greatest weaknesses and if you know this then you can easily exploit this because this tako adores you. He is so utterly whipped. Whatever you want, you can have it. Spoiling you is one of his many love languages. He loves giving you gifts, especially when he knows they'll make you happy. Like those silly fish slippers. They are so dumb, but they make his angelfish smile and that's enough reason to purchase them for you. I think once you're in a real relationship the fwb contract is dissolved, but a lot of what you did during those two months still occurs into your relationship. Like the smoldering tension and the chemistry. The silly banter and smart quips. The attraction. And of course lots of love (real and potion-induced mwahaha) and sex. He railed you once in mer form and you better believe he'll do it again now that he's slowly finding the confidence to do so with you.

[burningcheese-merchant]

Psst, hear me out: The Beast being fucking yanderes with the ancients.

You Get It™️ I mean... Did you guys see episode 6? Burning Simp Cookie is already a yandere lol. He's been there and he refuses to leave. And Shadow Milk is honestly not that far behind, he feels some type of way towards Pure Vanilla and it would be cute if it wasn't so sad and creepy lol

Really though, I just love hero/villain ships in general (always have, since long before Cookie Run ever existed) and I get a kick out of villains acting stupid over crushes (read: obsessions), and acting stupid in general. There's just something about a villain being in love with the hero to a psychotic, comical degree, and the hero rebuffing them at every turn that's just really amusing to me lol. Like what Joker sort of has with Batman, you know?

Here are my Yandere Beasts in bare-bones terms:

Burning Spice: come on, if you've read my stuff, you know EXACTLY what Yandere Spice is like lol. If not, I'll refer you to this and this, as well as my fics on AO3. If those don't tell you what Yandere Spice is like then idk how else to help you lol

Shadow Milk: if the final boss of theater/drama kids had a crush but was also a malignant narcissist of some sort lol. Absolutely DESPERATE for Vanilla's attention at all times. If he's not actively trying to worm into Vanilla's brain and harass him in his thoughts and dreams, he's in the real world brainstorming better ways to do that lol. He does not grasp why the creepy puppet shows and gaslighting attempts aren't convincing Vanilla to fall in love with him. Will attack and torment and insult Vani in one breath and then praise and love and worship him in another, because he's a histrionic clown freak with whirlwind emotions. But above all else, he literally thinks he owns Vani and is meticulously plotting the horrible and hilarious demise of any and all he perceives as a threat to their union

Eternal Sugar: World's Laziest Stalker™️. Almost exclusively haunts Holly in her dreams (I have to assume that that's what her power will entail, as the Beast of Sloth); however, she's more "effective" in her wooing attempts due to her past experience as the Herald of Happiness. She actually goes out of her way to construct dreams and the like that have things in them that make Holly happy (or what she thinks makes Holly happy; she, as well as the others, has big tunnel vision and is very selfish and self-absorbed, and thus pays more lip service to her own wants than those of who she loves/obsesses over). Thankfully doesn't run into Holly in person often because that's work... but sometimes she DOES work up the nerve to go after her for real, and... well

Mystic Flour: Denial, denial, denial. Not just a river in Egypt the Golden Cheese Kingdom, but she'll say and act like otherwise. No, she does not like Dark Cacao. He robbed her of her volition and the chance to enact her will. He prevented her from freeing the world from pain and suffering. He is a stubborn fool who refuses to understand the truth. He... is very handsome. She does not like how handsome he is. It is distracting. She doesn't like dwelling on her memories of him and their encounters. She doesn't like how she came to harbor a single kernel of respect in her heart after he stood his ground against her; a kernel that she inadvertently nurtured and cultivated slowly but surely, until... no. No, she doesn't like Dark Cacao. She doesn't think about him all day. She doesn't want to try to lure him back to her land so she can trap him in the flour fog with her again. She doesn't miss feeling his dark eyes on her. She doesn't deeply resent his attachment to his people, and seek to transfer that attachment to her instead. No, she... damn it, he's ruined her. He's made her feel things again. He's made her succumb to selfishness and greed, to earthly desire and attachment - desire for HIM, attachment to HIM. All of her hard work and enlightenment gone to waste... She doesn't want to like Dark Cacao, she recognizes the folly in such a thing, but she's stuck - and so stuck is she that not only does she not really see a way out, she doesn't WANT one. She's become too content with her attachment to him too quickly. Now she has to agonize over her own foolishness, and try to keep denying that she doesn't care while also longing for his attention and wanting to do away with all that steals his attention away from her

Silent Salt: probably the least awful of the five, but he's still creepy and that's not a high bar to clear anyway lol. Has a better grasp on "normal" behavior than the others (like... he pays attention to what White Lily likes/wants and tries to adjust accordingly), but he's following her around everywhere and acting extremely violent and territorial over her towards anyone who he catches approaching her. He's legitimately, surprisingly sweet and gentle towards her; he brings her flowers, he listens to her when she asks/tells him something, he's more or less respectful of her personal space (he will try to be as physically close to her as possible, but actually backs off a little if she asks him to, only to try again, and so on and so forth)... but he's still a villain, he's still violent and creepy, he still gets angry when she pays attention to other people for too long and he has brought actual harm to others out of jealousy. He's the best of the worst but that really doesn't mean much of anything, he's still a psycho creep like the others

In short, they form a tight-knit coalition of absolutely fucking deranged freakazoids and they should all probably die :)

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ 30

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 1,855ish

Summary: You and Logan still struggle with your relationship. The two of you make a decision to help ease the struggles.

Warnings: Emotional, Angst, Injuries

Notes: crossing my fingers that you guys will be okay with this chapter...

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks! 

“So, how are you and Logan doing?” Ororo asked one morning at breakfast.

“Fine,” you responded with a shrug. “We have a lot of work to do, but we’re working through it.”

“He does seem a little more on edge around the kids, as do you.”

You sighed. “I’ve actually been thinking… I think Logan and I should go away for a while.”

“Wait, you two want to leave?”

“I haven’t brought it up to Logan yet, and it wouldn’t be forever… we just need a space where we can focus on just the two of us. We’re constantly thrown every which way with classes, missions, and world-ending scenarios. Logan and I need to simply be us for a while and figure out what that means.”

“I… do whatever you have to do.” Ororo stood up. “I’ve got a class to teach.”

“Ororo, please stay and talk.” 

But she slipped out of the room. You sighed, hiding your head in your hands. That was the position Logan found you in. He quietly came up behind you and rested your hands on your shoulders. He leaned down and kissed the back of your neck.

“What’s wrong?” He whispered against your neck.

You leaned back into him, looking up at him. “I made Ororo upset.”

“What did you do?” You sighed, looking back down. “Hey.” He sat down beside you. “I thought we were doing better with the talking shit.” He hooked a finger under your chin and guided your face to look at him. “Tell me.”

“I told Ororo about something I was going to talk to you about.”

“And that was…?”

“About leaving.”

“Leaving?”

“I was thinking that we need some time to ourselves. To figure things out and just be us.”

“But this is your home. Would you really be okay leaving it?”

“Logan, you’re my home. And you were long before this was.”

Logan studied your gaze and could see that you were telling the truth, but he worried that after a while, he wouldn’t be enough. You at least had people here, other mutants, to lean on when the two of you were struggling. If it’s just you and him? Then you’d have no one. Logan was okay with that for himself but not for you.

“I thought that we’ve been doing well here,” Logan said, trying to see if he could get you to change your mind. 

His words took you back. “You want to stay? You’re constantly trying to run.”

“I just want you to really think about it, sweetheart. I don’t want you to leave and then regret it.”

“You think that I’d regret being with you?”

“That’s not what I said—“

You pulled away, standing up. “But it’s what you meant, right?”

“Don’t put words in my mouth.” He stood up as well, growing angry. 

“Do you not want this long-term, Logan? Am I just your person until a new, better one comes along?”

“Hey! That’s not fair!”

“Morning! Oh—“ Bobby stopped in the doorway. “I can see that this is not a good time, so I—“

“No, Bobby, we’re done here,” you told him, rushing off.

“Y/N!” Logan yelled after you, hurrying to follow you. He followed you into the gardens. “Now, who’s running?!”

“Oh, please,” you spun around. “You’ve wanted to run since the moment you got here!”

“Yes, but I stayed for you!”

“Oh, I feel so honored.”

“You know what, maybe I should go. Since it’s clear that I’m unable to hit the high expectations you have set for me.”

“You are the reason for those high expectations.”

“Ugh! I’m not that person anymore! And I’m sick and tired of feeling like shit all the time about that!”

Logan’s hand flew out as he was talking, his claws accidentally unsheathing. Before either of you knew it, the claws were cutting against your cheek. You gasped, stumbling back as your hand came up to hold your cheek.

“Oh my God,” he sputtered. He hid his claws before reaching for you. “Sweetheart—“ You stepped back, breaking both of your hearts. Logan’s fingers were tingling. If you didn’t let him try to fix this—if you didn’t let him touch you, Logan would never trust himself to touch someone again. “Please let me—“

“No,” you shook your head, tears falling down your cheeks. “Just… leave me alone.”

You rushed off back into the mansion. You knew that Logan didn’t mean to hurt you, but you needed time and space. 

Logan was frozen in his spot. The high emotions had gotten the best of both of you, but especially his claws. He had hurt you, and he was fully conscious for it. This was different than him having a nightmare. This was much worse.

~~~

You had sat in front of the mirror, watching the three cuts along your cheek heal into scars. Tears streamed down your face the entire time while you thought of Logan. Both of you were in the wrong here, and this was a complete accident. You were thinking about what to say to Logan when you started to hear drawers slamming in Logan’s room. Rushing out of your room, you looked into his room to see him stuffing his clothes into a bag.

“What are you doing?” You whispered.

Logan spun to face you. Slowly, his hand reached out to brush against the scars on your cheek, but he didn’t let his hand actually make contact.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” his voice was completely broken, tears lining his eyes. “I never wanted to be the one to hurt you… yet I keep doing it.” He shook his head and got back to packing. “I have to go.”

“What?”

“I can’t keep hurting you. I can’t be the person you need… The person I was before…”

“And this will make it better? I’ve messed up in this relationship, too. This is not just on you. I’m sorry for making it seem like I’m forcing you to be that person again. I know that you’ve changed, so I have, and that’s okay. I still love you.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Stop that.” You slipped in between him and the dresser. He kept his head down, not willing to make eye contact. “Fine. Tell me you don't love me, and I’ll let you walk away. But you have to look me in the eye and be honest with me.”

You nibbled your bottom lip as you waited for Logan to make the next move. You could tell that there was a war waging in his mind. His eyes suddenly snapped to yours.

“I… I can’t do that,” he murmured. “I love you.”

You quickly pulled him by his shirt to kiss him. He dropped his bag and slid his hands to the small of your back.

“If you really want to leave,” you whispered against his lips, “then you have to take me with you.”

“Okay,” he replied. 

~~~

“It’s not forever,” you said as you hugged Ororo. “We’ll stay in contact and visit. Logan and I just need to figure things out.”

“I’ll miss you,” Ororo responded, pulling back. “I’ll miss the both of you.”

“You ready?” Logan asked, coming up from the truck he had just packed. 

He had already said goodbye to Marie and Bobby before packing the truck, knowing that you would need some time with Ororo.

“I think so,” you responded. “See you later, Ororo.”

“See you,” she replied.

You took Logan’s hand, and he led you to the truck. He opened the door and helped you in before going around to the driver’s seat. You turned back and watched as the mansion grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Logan placed a hand on your knee, giving it a slight squeeze.

“Are you okay?” He asked, clearly concerned. “We can turn back around.”

You laced your fingers through his and scooted closer to Logan, very thankful for the bench seat. “I’m okay,” you told him. You kissed his shoulder. “Where are we headed?”

“I have a place in mind.”

“Care to tell?”

“Not yet. Why don’t you get some rest?”

“You sure?”

He leaned over and kissed your head. “I’m sure.”

You hummed in content as you rested your head on his shoulder and let yourself relax. Logan’s lifted up in a barely-there smile as you tried your best to cuddle into him. 

~~~

You didn’t bother to ask Logan where the two of you were headed again. You kept yourself occupied with books and naps when you weren’t talking to Logan. It was already proving to be worth it, as the farther the two of you drove from the mansion, the less tension there was. Logan insisted on driving the whole way, and so far you’ve had to beg him to stop to sleep in motels for the three nights you’ve been on the road so far.

It didn’t shock you when the two of you crossed over into Canada. You figured that Logan would always feel a call back there. The shock factor was later as the two of you drove up an old, familiar road in the Canadian Rockies.

“Logan, where—“

“Just patience, okay?” He cut you off. “I’ll explain soon.”

You simply nodded, focusing on the trees you were passing out the window. Your heart started pounding the closer you got to the top. Before you knew it, the small house appeared and Logan was pulling up to it. It looked just how you remembered it. You were too busy staring that you didn’t realize Logan had gotten out of the truck and walked around to your side. He opened the door and took your hand.

“Come on,” he urged, tugging you out of the truck. “Let’s go inside.”

“Inside?” You repeated. “It’s probably a disaster. We—“ Your eyes widened as Logan pulled you inside. The place was clean, updated, and furnished. “What? How?”

“Charles. We had a conversation about when Jean died, and I got part of my memories back. He knew that we would need a place to start over and found where we used to live. Before I could stop it, he had people here fixing it up.”

You let go of his hand and began slowly walking around the house. Your hands gently trailed against the walls and updated pieces of furniture. 

“You and Charles…” you breathed out. “You did all this?”

“Is it okay?” Logan was clearly nervous. “We can go somewhere else. I just know that this was the—“ You shut him up with a kiss.

“This is perfect. Thank you. But know that I don't expect you to be the same person as before. Time has changed both of us… are you okay with being here?”

“Yes. I even already got a job as a lumberjack.”

“Oh, got the old job back?”

Logan chuckled. “Somethin’ like that. I start in a week.”

“So I have a week of you all to myself?”

“A whole week.” He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your lips. 

“Can we try out the new bed?”

A devious smirk formed over Logan’s lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”

next chapter >

[peterman-spideyparker]

The Great War (Babe Part 2) (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! At the risk of forgetting to post part two, I'm doing it now! Like I mentioned in the first post, it's only a part two if you want it to be--you can just have read Babe and leave it at that, but this is just more idea to go with it that I couldn't stop my brain from working on. Enjoy! :)

Summary: It's been almost a month since you left Matt. Everything hurts, and you're doing what you can to get through. Foggy calls, and it turns out Matt's not doing much better. For the first time, you have no idea what your future with Matt Murdock looks like.

Listening rec: The Great War by Taylor Swift

Warnings: ANGST, Matt and reader are separated (Matt cheated), they’re both heartbroken at the situation, swearing, fighting/shouting/anger, throwing, Matt grabs reader (NO VIOLENCE, but the Devil of Hell's Kitchen pokes out), depression (mention of the word "borderline suicidal" in reference to season three Matt), Matt being reckless, lots of crying, drinking

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson

Word Count: 2,820

Before you can even say a feeble hello, Foggy is already speaking. “Matt’s devastated,” he breathes. 

You’re hurt. Offended, even. You left because of what he did in California, and he has the audacity to feel sorry for himself? “And I’m not?” you say, probably with more venom than appropriate. “Goodbye, Foggy.”

“Wait, hold on!” You don’t know why you don’t hang up, but you stay on the line. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the right way to start this. How have you been?”

“I’m awful, Foggy. My marriage is done, my heart hurts, I’ve lost the man I love . . . I’ve never been worse.”

“(Y/N) . . . I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Fog. All this is between me and Matt. It’s why you called, I’m guessing? Get all the answers for what exactly happened between us?”

“That’s between you guys. It’s none of my business or anyone’s. I’ve already ripped Matt a new one for doing what he did, and so did Karen and Frank, but he’s . . .” He stops and lets out a sigh. “Do you remember hearing from Maggie what Matt was like after Midland Circle? Despondent, depressed, borderline suicidal?”

Of course you remember, how could you ever forget? You’ve never seen him like that in your life. But the term “borderline suicidal” makes a pit grow in your stomach as you straighten up.

“He hasn’t tried to—?” you start to ask. 

“No, no, that was shitty wording on my part. But Matt’s not himself. It’s like watching a hollow corpse with a temper move about. He either doesn’t care at all, or a little thing will set him off. He’s being reckless on patrol, he’s drinking more than he usually does. I’ve been covering for him at the office, but . . . You need to talk to him.”

You close your eyes, tears rolling down your cheek. “I can’t, Foggy.”

“(Y/N)—.”

“He broke my heart, and I broke his in return. I stomped on it. I love him and I hurt him. If I talked to him . . . That’s salt on the wound for both of us.” More tears stream down your face as you think about it. “We both vowed not to hurt one another. H-He hurt me, but he wanted to fix it. I hurt him and don’t have that same courage to try.”

“Try now,” Foggy pleads. “Try now, help one another. Even if it’s for the last time.”

“O-Okay,” you say before you can realize it.

Foggy breathes a sign of relief. “Come to the loft.”

The loft. The scene of the crime.

You breathe a quiet confirmation before you hang up, taking time to mentally prepare yourself before you grab your purse and leave your sister’s place to talk Matt off whatever ledge he’s currently perched on. 

It’s a short trip, and Foggy meets you in the lobby of Matt’s building. He pulls you in for a long hug, and you actively tell yourself not to cry. 

“He’s that bad, huh?” you sniffle.

“Yeah,” Foggy sighs. “I’ve never been for him like this before. It’s like he’s not the same person.”

“I know what you mean,” you say quietly. “I haven’t felt like myself since that day.”

Foggy looks at you with a crestfallen expression, and you give him one more hug before you make your way up to the loft. 

Your key still works—you’re afraid if you knock, he won’t let you in. Hell, he probably heard you turn the block on your way here and wouldn’t answer out of anger or annoyance. Your stomach churns when you see Matt sitting in the chair. He’s in sweats, his posture is curved, his hair is disheveled, and he’s growing a thick beard. Beer bottles are on the table in front of him mixed with trash.

“Matt?” you breathe, but he remains unmoved. As you move closer toward him, he sits there like a statue, not caring to look your way. “Matt, it’s me.” Still, he doesn’t gaze your way. 

Putting your purse in its usual spot, you make your way over to him in the chair, gently cupping his face in your hands to tilt him up toward you. You suck in a small breath when you see the bruises and cuts on his cheeks, nose, and chin. If this is what his face looks like, you can only imagine the other injuries that his clothes are hiding.

“Matt,” you breathe. “What happened?”

He just closes his eyes in shame, starting to turn. You don’t let him, though, bringing his face back to center.

“Matty,” you plea. “Matt, talk to me, sweetheart.”

“You’re not my sweetheart anymore,” he finally says, and it burns like acid. You deserve it—you gave it just as good to him when he came back from California. “And I’m not yours.”

“We didn’t sign any papers yet,” you breathe, trying to lighten the mood as you hold back your own tears. “So, legally, I am.”

Matt peels back from my touch like he’s getting out of an itchy sweater. Okay, you deserve it. You deserve all of it.

“Matt—.”

“You left,” he spits. “You left just like everyone else, even when you swore you wouldn’t.”

You sit back on your heels. It hurts, but it’s the truth. “I did.” He turns back toward you like he’s shocked you actually admitted it. “I didn’t try to hear you out, and I’m sorry. I should’ve. It was . . .”

He turns toward you, ice in his blind gaze. You’ve never seen Matt like, this, and as he starts to slowly rise from his chair, it’s the first time you can say that you’ve ever been afraid of him. 

You spring to your feet as well, trying to at least keep things on the same level posture wise. 

“Now you’re trying to make things better?” he growls low. “You’re the one that tore it up in front of us. I wanted to stop the breakage, but you readied the wrecking ball. This shit is your mess. It’s like this because of you.”

Now you start to get mad. “Oh, just me? Any breakage that was the breakage that you started. Those images and videos were circulating for two whole days before you came home. I didn’t hear a single word from you—a ‘good morning’ or ‘I’m boarding my plane’ or otherwise. You just showed up here expecting it to all be fine—.”

“You don’t get to assume in this,” he grits, the space between you dangerously nonexistent as one of his hands tightly grab on to your wrist.

“Yes, I can. There’s two people in this mess. I’m saying what it seemed like on my end,” you say, your heart thundering in your chest. Matt wouldn’t hurt you—he’d never do that. But with how his hand is on your arm and the mood he seems to have been in since you left, you’re not entirely confident in that statement anymore.

“You never really knew a damn thing about me, did you?” he frowns. “You just kept a version of Matt Murdock in your head and lived with it this entire time, huh?”

“Maybe I did. Because this isn’t the Matt Murdock I came over to talk to. This is the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. So, if you’re gonna let the Devil out, let him out on me, Murdock. Do your worst.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” he threatens, the muscle in his jaw feathering as he clenches his teeth. 

“No. I came here to talk, and that’s what we’re gonna—.”

Before you know it, his hand is off your wrist, wrapping around the neck of a beer bottle before he whizzes it past your head like a threat. You flinch, moving to cover your head before the bottle leaves his hand, and you remain curled as the glass hits something behind you, knocking it over as they both crash to the ground. You slowly turn to see what was caught in the crosshairs—the beer bottle had hit a picture frame, knocking it down off the side table and breaking it. You can tell by the shifts in his body language he immediately regrets it, his shoulders slumping as tears start to sting your eyes. You notice he starts to take a step toward you out of the corner of your eye, but you’re on the move toward the broken picture frame. One of the pictures from our wedding.

Huh, you think. How fitting. 

You lower yourself to your knees, carefully picking it up and looking at how your faces were beaming with nothing but joy, how you held onto one another with love . . . and now how it’s the opposite. How you’re broken. You wouldn’t look at him the day you left, and he won’t look at you know. You curl over the photo, freely weeping on the pile of glass. You just want it things to go back to normal.

You hear Matt pad softly over to you, squatting as if he wants to put a hand on your back to soothe you, but he backs away to let you cry. Tears pour out of you like a geyser, a constant flow down your cheeks as you sit alone in the living room. Maybe it was an accident that he hit the picture, but his senses are so sharp . . . maybe he did want to hit it. Maybe he was trying to prove a point. Maybe he wanted to show you that by you leaving, you were the one who put the final nail in the coffin of your marriage.

Maybe he really doesn’t want you anymore. Maybe he stopped wanting you before he went to Los Angeles. Maybe he stopped wanting you a long time ago.

You’re still crying when you hear Matt come back over toward you. Through your limited vision, you watch him clean up the broken glass from the bottle and the frame. It takes him a few trips, but it’s eventually all cleaned up. He leaves again before walking back toward you, holding out a box of tissues. With a shaking hand, you grab one and wipe at your nose, desperately trying to calm yourself. 

“This is my favorite picture of us from our wedding,” you sniffle. “This is what I would grab if I could only take one thing from the loft in an emergency. This would be it. And now . . .”

You can’t finish your sentence, just weeping uncontrollably in your little ball on the floor over your two deepest treasures—this photo and your marriage. Shattered. 

“Angel . . .” Matt says so softly, so tenderly, you almost forget that your life has essentially imploded.

“This is all my fault,” you cry, spiraling, trying to trace it all back to you, your actions. The big explosive things all seem to have their root in something you can place back to yourself. Matt slept with someone else, but it goes back to something you did— you had a short attention span and a bit of a short fuse before he left because a bunch of shit at work that kept piling up, and you knew he was frustrated . . . how much he hates planes. You egged him on. You did nothing to help, and when he left to go to California, he found someone who understood him in a way you couldn’t. You need an answer for this, and that seems to be it.

“This is my favorite picture of us, and it’s all my fault,” you sniffle, repeating what you said earlier, your chest burning from the tears and hyperventilation. 

“It’s just a picture—,” he starts to say softly.

“It’s not just a picture,” you weep. “This, us, it’s all my fault. We’re broken because of me. This is all my fault.”

You hear Matt pad softly over to you, squatting down and taking the picture from your hands, putting it on the arm of a nearby chair before pulling you in for a hug. All you can do is sob against his shoulder as he holds onto you. 

“This isn’t because of you,” he tries to soothe, sounding like he’s about to cry as well. “It . . . It was my poor judgement, it was my shortcomings that did this. You’re in the flaming wreckage, and it’s not fair.”

“I just want things how they were,” you sniffle. “I want to come home. I want us to be okay.”

Matt’s silence is terrifying. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt rage like that. Darkness like that,” he says softly. You feel a tear fall from his cheek to the top of you head. “Shit, I grabbed you . . . Fuck, I’m so sorry. I-I would never—(Y/N), please—.”

“I . . . I,” you start. He’d never hurt you. For all his anger, for all his strength, Matt would never hurt you. But when you’re facing off with the man that patrols the streets? The man that brought down Wilson Fisk not once, but twice? You just didn't know. 

“I scared you.” Tears are flowing down his cheek. “I could hear your heart race . . . I knew you were scared and for a moment, and I didn’t care. It’s like I wanted you to be scared, and I liked it. I was glad you were scared of me.” He sounds disgusted with himself. “You really thought I was going to hit you.”

“I did. For a moment,” you admit. It catches in your throat, but there’s no use in lying if you’re trying to fix this. 

Is that what you came over to do? To fix this? 

He lets out a long breath, slumping to the floor. “What happened to us?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” you say. And it’s the truth. You don’t really know how you got to this point. Yes, you know why you walked out, but it’s like there were the small hairline fractures in glass—so fine that you couldn’t see them—and then a hammer came down on it and a million little pieces was left in its wake. But how he sounds . . . you know that tone. When it’s been a rough night on patrol, it coats his words like sap—he’s going into a dark headspace, and when he gets too far in, it’s hard to get him out, and you need to get him out. You move around to carefully sit next to Matt, putting a hand on his forearm. You can feel a thick bandage on his arm before you can process that he winces, so you move to slide your hand in his. 

“I know you’d never hurt me,” you breathe. “I know you’d never lay a hand on me like that.”

“But I did, though. If I added more pressure, I could’ve snapped your worst. It would have been easy for me to do.” You see him swallow the lump forming in his throat, his own self-hatred inflating at a dangerous rate. “I was full of rage. You were scared of me.”

“I’m scared of all of this,” you admit, your voice small. “What’s happening to us. How it’s effecting you and me. We’re . . . We’re not ourselves. I-I don’t recognize either of us. I don’t like it. I want things back how they were.”

“But they can’t go back.” He sounds broken, hollow—just how you feel. 

“Are . . . Are we too far gone?” you ask just above a whisper, terrified of the answer. 

“I don’t want us to be.”

You hang your head. “I haven’t been sleeping,” you admit. “It doesn’t feel right without you, your arms around me.”

He places a gently hand on your chin, lifting your face up and wiping tears off of your cheeks before pulling you in for a hug. It feels like warmth. Like love. “I can’t sleep in the bed. It smells like you, and with you gone . . . I just patrol all night.”

It’s like when you think your heart can’t break any more, it does. “I still feel so upset, but, I feel hollow more than anything. Like part of me is missing.”

“I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too. I-I’m so sorry.” He kisses the top of your head. “I should’ve listened, I shouldn’t have left like that, but I was just so upset. I couldn’t be around you without feeling like screaming or crying or both.”

“We . . . We can get through this. Can’t we?”

You think about it. Is this something you can do? You’ve been through worse— you’ve seen him near death more times than you would like, you’ve seen how the toll of Daredevil and the stress of being an attorney wear him down. Even the debate on how we should bring up our children should you choose to have them strained you both. But your happiness, your life together, it’s bigger than your low points. It has to be.

It has to be. 

Right?

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[anistarrose]

so first things first, every art post of Stan Pines with an aromantic flag adds years to my lifespan, and every time I see one, I feel an urge to dedicate my life to winding up on the Nobel Committee so I can somehow campaign for the artist to get a Nobel Prize. hence, this is obviously a pro-"throw aro flags onto Stan until he's drowning in them post," because we love our aroallo king. however, in my heart, there's a somewhat different headcanon about Stan's relationship to his sexuality that's canon to me, and it's something like:

Stan's known he's bi for at least as long as he's known what bisexuality was, and that's been a long time. he thinks he and bisexuality have always gotten on just fine, so if it ain't broke, why cough up the money (ahem. rather, the self-reflection) to fix it? of course, he still listens when Mabel tells him all about all the new terms, 'cause it makes her happy and that's just more pride flags to sell and get rich from! but it's not for Stan, he always feels.

but after a few years, Mabel starts trying out aro-spectrum microlabels, while still being pan, and Stan's internally like. huh. didn't know you could do that. and then Wendy comes out as aro and bi, and Stan's like. huh. Wendy makes an offhand remark about relationships losing appeal every time she actually got into one, and Stan's internally like. who the hell gave you permission to plagiarize my life story.

so, Stan doesn't go on to talk about "his romance thing" a whole lot. old habits die hard, and "bi" gets across everything he's every really felt like sharing, anyways. if you wanna know more than that, buy his dang memoir! (which he still hasn't written, 'cause Wendy went and pre-emptively plagiarized.) but Stan knows himself better now — and, you know, it's sappy, but he's actually kinda glad he does. old "failures" feel just a little less like failures, now.

[genderoutlaws]

do you have any advice for someone feeling hopeful and hopeless and not sure where to start? people are talking about organizing and i don't want to sound dumb but i don't know what that entails really.

hey, not dumb at all. hang on to that hopefulness. i think in terms of organizing the most essential thing you or anyone can focus on right now is

joining a socialist organization near you. do your research and live your values but i know the largest membership currently resides in DSA and i believe they're doing the work to create a mass socialist party. i've crossed paths and been supported by them a lot as a union organizer and am just now officially joining after a longtime friend/comrade has been urging me to for awhile.

unionizing your workplace. please feel free to message me for more specifics, i obviously can only speak with the experience within my own coffee shop as a 24 year old and being repped by WU, but building class consciousness and building union power among the working class is vital. tenants unions are also great though i do not have personal experience with them.

wearing a mask, staying up to date on covid and h5n1 studies and educating your peers, joining a mask bloc, advocating for better air filtration in your community spaces,, if we want to organize the working class we need all of us, disabled people included. and a lot more people are disabled now from repeat sars-cov-2 infections than realize or care to admit.

look out for your unhoused neighbors. get involved with food distribution, harm reduction, mutual aid services,, Food Not Bombs is awesome and is likely to have a chapter near you. this also kinda folds into the joining an org cuz i know my DSA friends are also heavily involved in organizing against encampment sweeps and advocating for affordable housing.

this is what comes to mind immediately for me and again feel free to message me about any point if you want more direction or clarity or to just talk it out, i'm still finding my footing and always trying to be better. also this all obvs can depend on what area you're in. but generally, any organizing outside of the electoral process once every 4 years is a great starting point lol

[seeker-ophelia]

Ophelia’s Review, Part Three: The Lore

Man. Thank you to @senseandaccountability ’s post for sparking this brainwyrm because I was at a loss for words on how to start this post, and I could not put my finger on what was actually bothering me.

Again, let me just say, emotionally, this game wrecked me. I enjoyed it. I (am probably one of the few who) liked the combat. I liked the companions (basic as they are). And I liked the story. I liked the locations. I liked the quests and the loot system and the companion banter. But.

The Lore.

[Part 1:Emotion]   [Part 2:The Dragon Age System]

If you’ve read my Part 2 Review, you know the end of it is actually its own little fic-let on the Veilguard realizing the veil needs to come down.

And I’m just going to straight up copy a paragraph from @SenseAndAccountability ‘s post (I strongly recommend you go read it, its fantastic).

Replaying really emphasizes how incredibly little the game convinces me of its original main quest - to prevent Solas from doing his ritual. This is a problem as a long-term player because for three games we’ve had build up for a great crescendo tackling the overarching themes of the (restrictions and oppression of) magic, of tears in the Veil, of religious tyranny and oppression based on myths about the Black City and the temptations of flawed humans, we’ve seen and deconstructed the elves quite a bit, we got started on the dwarves and in DAI your Inquisitor can openly ask Solas if it wouldn’t be better if the Veil came down because then spirits wouldn’t be separated from the living and risk becoming demons. Cole, whose function is to reflect the plot, talks endlessly about the old songs wanting to be sung again, about how it hurts to be cut off from part of yourself, how the templars feel it, how the mages feel it, how the elves and the dwarves feel it. The Veil as a prerequisite for life has been deconstructed, the Fade demystified, the gods have mostly fallen. The Veil as an actual wound inflicted on this earth has been presented as a theory and not been convincingly rejected by the narrative. 

Let’s recap, just a little bit.

In Origins, we are introduced to the Dragon Age World. Its politics, its magic physics, the races, and its religion. We are introduced to the concept of the Chantry and the Templars and the Circles (*wiggles my eyebrows at you). We learn about demon possession, and about spirits in the fade. And maybe most importantly, we are introduced to the concept of The Blight.

The unstoppable, indiscriminate zombie-plague that sweeps Thedas once a century or so. And maybe more importantly, thanks to the sacrifice of the Grey Wardens, how to stop it.

In 2, the Thedas lore is even subtler. We were introduced to Dalish Gods in Origins, but because of Merrill we get a little more. We start to become curious about the Gods of the race that has been subjugated and enslaved throughout the common Ages. We learn the tense political atmosphere surrounding the Templars and the Mages, and the Chantry’s weakening hold on the politics and structure of Southern Thedas as a whole. We learn about slavery in the north, about the basics of the Qunari, and we have a Terrorist (potentially our lover), hit the religious organization in our city.

In Inquisition, we learn all about the magic. We learn about the fade, about the veil, we learn all about the Elvhen. We pick a side in the Mage/Templar war, we learn about this strange process of Tranquility, the only power templars have to control mages (thanks to Cassandra), and we also learn what that control costs (thanks to Cullen).

And because of Solas, and Cole, we learn about spirits. About how the Veil turns them to demons on their passing into the real world. About how all they want is to stay true to their purpose. They are simple, pure things, and while there are demons, of course, its not all bad in the fade as maybe we might have believed before. After all, Solavellan’s first kiss happens in the fade.

In Descent, we learn about titans, about memories, about songs, about lyrium, about isatunoll.

In Trespasser we learn about why the Titans even matter. Orbs. Power. Greed. The creation of the Veil, and what it really means.

*Insert Kronk Oh-Yeah-Its-All-Coming-Together.gif*

We had 10 years to scheme. 10 years for theories. 10 years to datamine.

So what did we learn in Veilguard?

Well, in the grand scheme of things, nothing.

We have theories confirmed. Which Evanuris hat belongs to who, how the blight was created, how the blight is spread, and how the blight is controlled (kinda-not-really). At least, we learn how the Evanuris are doing it.

What did we learn that was NEW?

We learned about the Morn Watch (but I mean, did we really?) Emmerich has a good relationship with wisps and spirits. We learn about his distinction between a spirit and a soul.

We learned *a little* more about Qunari culture.

We learned it was a blood magic ritual that was holding the veil up, tied to the life force of the Evanuris, now tied to Solas.

We learned about the Evanuris’ Dragon-Thralls and the strong connection between the two, a connection strong enough to get their souls out of Solas’ Fade Jail.

We learned that the Evanuris could not only control The Blight, but had relics to give to others (the Venatori) to control blighted things. We learned their greed for power was so vast, so consuming, they were willing to Blight the world to achieve it.

But we fought an archdemon, in Origins and in Veilguard. We see and know the terror and horror of the Blight.

This makes any action Solas commits understandable, and even necessary. Would we have done anything different? If my leaders were bent on blighting the world, wouldn’t I go to extreme lengths to stop them? Compromising my own morals, dignity, and values to do so?

I think I would.

Having such a terrible evil, having such an indiscriminately bad thing, The Blight, leaves absolutely no room for nuance. No room for complexity. Just good versus bad. Destroy the bad thing at all costs.

So we do. Wham, bam, Evanuris dead.

And the only thing stopping us from tearing down the Veil, is the Blight.

Because Solas tells us that the Blight is in there too.

But, he made a new Prison for the Evanuris, one without a veil, before Rook & Co. interrupted his ritual. Why can’t we move the blight into there and still tear down the Veil?

What is stopping us at this point?

Solas says: Thousands would die

(You’re trapped in your regrets)

This is why you had to use me to escape the prison. It’s made from regrets. And you’re trapped in yours.

You cannot understand -  

Destroying everything won’t erase your mistakes.

You have a chance right now to save the world. Bind yourself to the Veil and stop it from falling.

2. (Do this the right way)

You’re right, you do need to make up for the damage you’ve done, but breaking the world again is the wrong way to do it.

Letting the veil collapse –

Is what YOU want. Making amends isn’t about what YOU want.

You have a chance right now to save the world. Bind yourself to the Veil and stop it from falling.

3. (This won’t help anyone)

Who does this help? A lot of people are going to die… So you can fix something they don’t even see as wrong.

It is not just people, spirits –

Will be destroyed when you do this, too. Won’t they?

You have a chance right now to save the world. Bind yourself to the Veil and stop it from falling.

Listen. I can't believe I'm about to say this, but there's more to Dragon Age than Solavellan.

This, in the end, was an emotional decision. The decision to leave the veil up was tied to emotion, and not logic.

So, what does all this mean?

Well, for players new to the series, nothing. They were always fighting for the Veil to stay up. The opposite of what the antagonist wants, pretty much. Easy enough to follow along.

But for returning players? Lavellans who stood in Fade-Haven? Players who walked Vir Dirthara? Mages who made the Descent, and saw how horrible it was for the dwarves to be sundered from their dreams, and made the horrifying connection that the Veil did the same to them?

Trespasser Solas: You must understand, I awoke in a world where the Veil had blocked most people’s conscious connection to the Fade. It was like walking through a world of Tranquil. (We aren’t even people to you?) Not at first. You showed me that I was wrong… again. That does not make what must come next any easier.

When I learned about the rite of Tranquility in Origins, I was disgusted. The first thing that popped into my head was lobotomization. They are one and the same to me. Turning a person into a husk of what they were. Separating them from their emotions. From hard emotions, yes, from things that are not easy, even painful, but at the cost of themselves.

We walk with Harding through her decision to, although the Titans are angry, and what was taken from her people was great, not reunite Titan and Dwarf because…

Lace: The story of their end is the story of our beginning.

Mythal releases Solas from his journey to reunite Elvhen with the Fade.

Harding releases angry Titans from their quest to reunite with the Dwarvhen.

And so the Veil stays up. The Titans stay sundered.

But… at what cost?

Lest we forget, it was the sundering of the Titans from the Dwarves that CREATED THE BLIGHT. The Titans created the blight as a weapon to infect the Elvhen as punishment for their death, their tranquility.

This Tranquility Ritual, be it in the form of keeping Mages from the fade, be it of Titans or of Elvhen, is WRONG.

I’m a Blue-Collar Journeyman, and we have a turn of phrase we use with old fellers who don’t want to change the way they do things.

Just because you’ve been doing something for a long time, doesn’t mean you’ve been doing it right.

You can do something for years, and still be doing it wrong.

And both Lace and Rook decide that this is the way things have been done, for AGES. We’re not going to change now.

And I’m just… Solas. As John Travolta playing Vincent Vega in Pulp Fiction, confusingly standing there, looking around with my arms out.

Did we learn nothing from the Lessons of Origins? Nothing from the Lessons of Inquisition?

Maintain the Status Quo? That’s the answer?

At what cost?

One of my favourite lines in in my Part 2 Post is this;

Veilguard, is shallow. The essence is there, beneath it's Veil, pressing and bursting at the seams to escape, but is being held back by a gentrification of Thedas.

This decision, the decision to keep the veil up, is shallow. Its basic. Its Easy. It is pre-masticated, lunchable drivel. It was spoon fed to us in easy dialogue and groupthink.

What about every other thing we learned in the other games of Dragon Age?

If Weekes et al. want me to forget about how horrible the Rite of Tranquility is, they’re going to have to come out with a hell of a companion novel between now and DA5, because this makes no sense to me.

I ask you. If sundering Titans created The Blight, what did sundering the Fade create?

Or should I say,

If separating Dwarvhen from their Memories created the Blight (out of Titan anger),

What did separating Elvhen from the Fade create?????

Lets talk about Ser Dave.

If you read my part 2, you’ll know that Ser Dave is my name for the ‘?????’

Not only is it so insulting to my intelligence to call something ‘?????,’ because of course then I’m going to pay more attention to it, but its so lazy. Let it introduce itself to Rook and say “call me the wicked witch of the west,’ ‘a concerned party,’ ‘I am the Batman,’ ‘I am No One,’ ‘I am Daivd Gaider,’ ffs.

An I excited at a new villain? Yes. Am I happy to learn there was a shadow organization pulling the strings behind all of my villains throughout The Dragon Age? Abso-fucking-lutely not. Am I happy Southern Thedas, Treviso, and Minrathous are essentially razed after the rise of the Evanuris? No.

Nothing we did in any of our previous games mattered. Nothing I did mattered. Ser Dave was there the whole time, controlling, balancing, guiding, whispering.

I was doomed to fail from the start.

The moral of the story in Veilguard is to not assume the burden of others actions:

And yet its Ser Dave and the Nazgul Band that assumes responsibility for my villains?

What in the Actual Fuck?

So what is going to happen in 5? I don't know. Will I find true agency? How do we have a villain worse than a God? How do we live in a Tranquil’d world, knowing the alternative? How do you bring back the dark, heavy, realness of Thedas, after the gentrification of Veilguard? After blanding Thedas, making it easier for more palates, needing to feed the EA Machine.

For the record, I have yet to complete my second playthrough. I have yet to find all the codices. I have yet to get all the companion banter. I have yet to play as every race. I have yet to make every decision. And if Inquisition taught me anything, its how one little piece of information can change everything. So, for the record, this whole post could be wrong.

In fact, I hope, and pray, that I am missing a big piece of something in Veilguard. That I just haven’t found it yet. That one little thing that’s going to shift my worldview. And I’m going to play until I find it.

Because these messages Veilguard is sending? They’re too contradictory. Too opposite to be coincidence. Too Different to simply be Bad Writing™. I said that Veilguard is a Tranquilized Version of what DA4 could have been. Inquisition, 2, and Origins, were too deep, for Veilguard to be this shallow.

And… Maybe its copium, but I’m kind of hoping that it was on purpose.

[s0uth3park]

Random SP headcanons pt2

Pt 1

Tweek tried to, but ultimately will never, learn how to drive with heavy advice from his loved ones (Craig). It’s too stressful. It’s dangerous because of his anxiety and tics for others and himself. No driving for Tweek. Please.

Cartman doesn’t make fun of Craig for being “half ginger” because he’s a little scared of him… kind of.

Speaking of, Cartman showed Craig his own wiener (as per TxC) of his own volition.

Fat fucking crush on Kyle btw.

If Stan hates that he looks like his dad then he hates that Kyle looks like his mom btw. Because… alcoholic x radical canadaphobe?? Fuck knows.

Stan shakes on weed (no projection here). He can’t feel it though.

Speaking of, Tweek can’t feel his own shaking.

Cartman wishes that Kenny would act how he would / seeks Kenny’s validation, hence his criticism of Kenny of the most menial of things (ie. holding a candle in Put It Down).

If there was money for it, Karen would own a lot of stuffed animals.

Kevin and Karen do not carry the gene for red hair. Or blond/blonde hair.

Cartman loves his fucking grandma. (No projection I swear)

Jimbo holds some affection for Liane but is just a gay old fuck. Jimned 4eva

Did I mention in my last post I think, despite Mrs Valmer’s canon design, that Mrs Tweak has the biggest tits? I’m saying it again if so

SHE AND RICHARD SCREW SO BAD I KNOW I SAID BUT PLEASE UNDERSTAND–

I know I said last post that I didn’t know how Tweek and Butters would be cousins but now I’ve decided… people can think differently because anything goes but for me it’s through both fathers. Tweak Bros. originates from Mrs. Tweak’s father and to earn the right to marry her he had to win him over and show his dedication to the profession

Richard and Stephen got grounded a LOT

Linda and Sheila’s hair always smells incredible (so much product)

Sheila is the type of grandma to give out stale sweeties

The Marsh name ends with Stanley. The bloodline ends with both him and Shelley

Heidi is the mother of Kyle’s kids (coping)

Cartman only became homeless after his mother died

He never worked ever (garageman future aside)

Clyde got vaccinated guys we can all rest now (the bad future self came back to tell him to never do it but once the good future is put into play he gets vaccinated because there was no bad future to come back to tell him)

Clyde is very girldad coded, soz

Bebe’s dad is a bit younger than her mom (he is the ultimate girldad… Mr. Stevens I wish I knew your name)

Clyde gets more insecure about his weight / appearance as he gets older. For now he is young however so let him live (his pudge is the pudge ever and he is sonboy if not a carnal dream and a half… latter only in pcov ofc)

Mr. Stevens helps Bebe with her homework a fuckton (particularly maths)

Butters bites his nails

Butters (after growing up) loves strong women. Look at his Pcov design and tell me he doesn’t want / have / respect a buff wife.

If Butters wasn’t grounded as much as a kid he wouldn’t have a fear of expectations as much as he does, meaning he would have probably gotten a better job than working in Dennybees or whatever it was called. Bro could have been a multi billionaire girlboss

I just want someone to hear this it’s not really a headcanon but BHLK Queen Thistle? LINDA STOTCH? Same character different nationalities istg

Kyle plays chaperone a fair bit to the guys

Kyle, Tolkien and Craig are the most sensible drivers out of All The Boys (Tolkien behind Craig and Kyle if I’m being honest)

Kenny and Bebe (Bebe isn’t a boy but YKWIM) are the fucking fastest / most reckless

Clyde and Stan are sort of not great but not bad drivers

Jimmy is rather close to Tolkien in terms of driving skill yk

Butters, Cartman, Tweek don’t drive – Cartman out of laziness / expectation of chaperones, and Butters and Tweek out of stress… Tweek tried to learn though

Craig in later years drives Tweek everywhere

Tweek and Cartman have experienced heart attacks (in later years) but for different reasons to the other. Clyde has come very close. So has Craig, though not as close.

Tweek dies before Craig.

Stan dies before Kyle.

Butters dies before Kenny (ironically).

Craig visits Tweek’s grave with flowers every week??

Craig, as an old man, where’s a lot of fucking cardigans. Grandpa shirts too (the things without the collars).

Tweek and Craig have matching anythings. Typically slippers.

Bebe is very handsy and sometimes possessive. Clyde thinks it’s “sweet”. (The dudebro sweet not the romantic sweet through the possessiveness originates from romanticism).

In Pcov Clyde is a delivery man, actually

Out of all the couples, it would always be Clybe to cause the most hickeys

Bebe has a flatter ass than brilliant boobs (opposite for Wendy, though Wendy isn’t flat chested)

Nichole bleaches her skin in the future (it’s sad but look at her design. Out of everything else it’s the most unrecognisable and it’s awful)

Nichole loves 60s/70s paraphernalia and fashion (the ultimate flower power child)

Wendy and Cartman fuck at least once in their lifetimes. They take it to the grave, but because of this Cartman doesn’t die a fucking virgin

That sounds so damn harsh wth but it’s true (I think Cartman doesn’t really have any labels moreso is just attached to certain people when it’s not just himself *cough cough* Kyle and Wendy *cough cough*)

Jimmy can see perfectly fine out of both eyes until he reaches teenhood

Jimmy has two brown haired alleles

Cartman doesn’t make fun of Kenny or Craig for having a ginger / red haired parent because he thinks they’re pretty cool. He lowkey ships them / wants to be them.

Cartman has the gene for ginger hair.

[ebenelephant]

I would also like to note that the way fandom treats Lupin's class is often... not great.

I'll caveat this by saying that iirc it's very subtly implied in the books that he may only have become impoverished in adulthood (which isn't important for this discussion) and also that JKR's handling of class with the Weasley's in canon is also pretty bad (which is). She gets many class dynamics/relations down pretty well in terms of snobbishness and classism, but the Weasley family are just not well written as an example of a family on the breadline, which is what they ostensibly are.

This – not all the time, but definitely some of the time – translates to Marauders fic as well. And maybe that's just my view as someone with a better understanding of the British class system as a UK-resident than many individuals might have, but still it bears pointing out that often representation of poor/impoverished/working class characters in fanfiction (and fiction as a whole tbh) can often be classist. Especially when adding in the angle of a character being abused or orphaned, which is on the rise with Remus.

Often, it feels like Remus's class situation is for purely aesthetic purposes. Authors will talk about how insecure his old clothes make him, and Sirius will buy him a jumper. They'll make him just so starving hungry in the summers, but give only the most surface-level introspection of food insecurity, if any. He will be toughened and hardened by his time in care/on the streets/living in poverty/whatever in a way that really only leans into the stereotype that working class people are rude and unpleasant because they are working class, even though he is implied to be impoverished and possibly homeless in the books and is none of that. It's set dressing.

Snape is often rewritten as coming from a better station. Maybe they ignore that he grew up mostly muggle, or maybe they lean into the 'Prince' aspect and write him inheriting from a rich uncle or something. If not, his poverty is sort of just not addressed in a lot of Marauders fic. Again, this is anecdotal: I've seen some really interesting depictions of him before even in fics that otherwise bash on him, but the fact is that in the fics where the author clearly dislikes the character, this is rarely the case.

Snape's childhood is ugly. Coming from what is implied to be a dying Northern industrial town, he would've come into his majority over the Winter of Discontent, spent his early adulthood far away from the home that may well have been suffering under Thatcher's Britain. Maybe his dad was a union man. Maybe there was strike action and violence in his home town. Maybe it all simply faded away to nothingness and left everyone on the dole while politicians harped on about the unemployed draining government funds. Maybe his dad hit him. It's implied that the Snape household was tumultuous and loud, and didn't feel safe. It's implied that Eileen was cold and distant. And Tobias, as a man in a dying industrial town who shouted at his wife and scared his kid, this conjures and image in the mind of many Brits. Maybe that's lost somewhat to an international audience, I don't know.

The thing is, that when Snape's poverty is overlooked almost entirely and Remus's is both exaggerated and somehow made completely toothless by fandom, both instances are classist.

Alright, let’s dive into the dumpster fire that the Marauders fandom has become last years and threw any sense of canon or character integrity out the window. Because let’s be real, the way this fandom has twisted the characters of the Marauders and the Death Eaters, all while turning Severus Snape into some one-note “creepy stalker,” is embarrassing. The fandom seems obsessed with scrubbing characters clean, romanticizing abusers, inventing tragic backstories for literal sociopaths, and piling up headcanons that turn a few lines in canon into fully fleshed-out, fanon-only OCs. And somehow, the only character who gets relentlessly dragged and demonized is Severus Snape—a character who has actual complexity and trauma. It’s hypocritical, classist, and downright gross.

Let’s start with Severus. Canon Snape is a guy who came from nothing: poor background, abusive father, dead-end town. He didn’t fit into the wizarding world, was relentlessly bullied by privileged Marauders, and still somehow managed to survive and make something of himself. But instead of acknowledging any of that, the fandom loves to reduce him to this “creepy obsessive” stereotype. People act like he spent every waking moment pining for Lily and never did anything else, as if that’s all his character is. Never mind the fact that he was actively trying to get out of a miserable life, or that he was, you know, bullied on a daily basis by James and Sirius, who had wealth, status, and freedom to do whatever they wanted. Nope, to the Marauders fandom, Snape is just the “weird stalker”—because acknowledging his struggles would mean admitting that their golden boys were actually kind of awful.

Meanwhile, the same people are out here bending over backward to make people like Barty Crouch Jr., Evan Rosier, and Regulus Black look like misunderstood anti-heroes. Let’s be clear: in canon, Barty Crouch Jr. was a straight-up torturer, Evan Rosier died laughing as he fought Aurors, and Regulus was a kid raised with a silver spoon who only started doubting Voldemort when he realized he’d been signed up as snake chow. But no, fanon has turned these guys into “tragic, complex Slytherins” who were “just trying to survive.” It’s like they’re desperate for some tortured prince narrative, so they invent personalities out of thin air to give us this dreamy aesthetic of sad, beautiful Death Eaters who “didn’t really want to be evil.” Apparently, actually following the text is too much to ask when you’ve got fanon fantasies to uphold.

Regulus Black, in particular, has become this absurd fanon martyr. In canon, Regulus was a kid indoctrinated into pureblood ideology, who joined the Death Eaters without much hesitation. Maybe he had a change of heart eventually, but it wasn’t out of some grand moral revelation; he just realized Voldemort’s loyalty was to himself alone. Yet, according to the current fandom, Regulus is some misunderstood hero who was only “pretending” to go along with Voldemort and was “forced” into his choices. They’ve built this tragic romance around a character who, in the actual books, doesn’t have even half this depth. This Regulus in fanon is practically an OC at this point, and people cling to this made-up version of him so hard that they’ll defend it like it’s canon. It’s hilarious, and it’s also just plain wrong.

And let’s talk about the Marauders themselves. In canon, James and Sirius were rich, spoiled brats who spent their school years bullying anyone who didn’t fit into their world. They were kids with every privilege, and they used it to torment people like Snape, who had nothing. But the Marauders’ fandom has turned them into these fluffy, “good-hearted” rebels who just made “a few mistakes.” I’m sorry, but nearly killing someone as a “prank” is a bit more than a mistake. Yet people will ignore that or wave it away as “boys will be boys” just to keep up the illusion that James and Sirius were lovable scamps. It’s maddening—and it’s also classist as hell. They erase all the ugly realities of the Marauders’ behavior and then turn around and judge Snape for being “obsessive” and “weird” when he was just trying to survive in a world stacked against him.

The classism in this fandom is so blatant it’s laughable. Snape is written off as creepy and unworthy of sympathy because he didn’t have a cushy upbringing or the social standing to make him likable. Meanwhile, characters like Barty and Regulus, who came from wealthy pureblood families, get excused and romanticized to no end. It’s like the fandom is saying, “Well, Snape deserved it because he was poor and awkward, but the rich kids? They’re just misunderstood.” It’s the kind of privilege blindness that makes you wonder if people actually read the books or if they’re just projecting their own biases onto the characters.

And let’s not forget the army of new OCs the Marauders fandom has invented just to justify this headcanon universe (Mary, Marlene, Dorcas, that that Pandora no one knows why suddenly appears here lol) You’ve got random “best friends” for Sirius, unnamed Slytherins who magically have no ties to pureblood supremacy, and love interests for Regulus who supposedly saw the “real” him. All these characters are based on nothing more than a few throwaway lines, yet people have fleshed them out to a level that they’re practically new characters in the universe. It’s like they need this entourage of made-up people to back up their version of the Marauders and Death Eaters because, without them, their headcanons would fall apart. And all of this, while they keep painting Snape as this creepy loner with no real friends or worth. The hypocrisy is unreal.

At the end of the day, the Marauders fandom has taken a bunch of characters with clear flaws and complexities and rewritten them into these sanitized, tortured souls while dumping all their scorn onto Snape. They’ll go out of their way to redeem a literal torturer like Barty Crouch Jr. or turn Regulus into some tragic hero, but they can’t bring themselves to even consider Snape’s trauma or the systematic abuse he endured. It’s all about maintaining this fantasy where their favorite characters are perfect and untouchable, even if it means twisting canon and ignoring the ugly truths about class, privilege, and abuse that is reflected into the story. And that, honestly, just makes the fandom look shallow, hypocritical, and completely disconnected from the reality.

[forwards-beckon-rebound]

batfam and what canadian university i’m assigning them

dick - western

i live for frat boy dick

but like not the creepy frat boys

i think canadian greek life is significantly more chill, definitely a lot of drinking though

like i can already imagine him doing a keg stand

not a permanent frat boy ofc but i can kinda see him going a little wild during uni

like he’s definitely sociable and getting invited to all of the parties

but like the academics aren’t bad too so i think he’d have fun there

the campus is pretty big so you need to take the bus to different areas and it always comes late

you just know dick is ditching the bus and straight up booking it, basically doing parkour

jason - uoft

is it kind of a soulless commuter school where it’s practically impossible to make friends unless you live on res in an incredibly expensive city? yes

HOWEVER it also has the largest academic library system in the country and has so many rare books

i just know the lit nerd in him would like it

i think he would also just enjoy going to a large uni with a lot of course selections, so he can choose courses that actually sound interesting to him

he just loves learning for the sake of learning (remember guys, he’s the robin who actually liked going to school) and i think he would appreciate having so many resources at his fingertips, even if the uni community isn’t that good

has a reputation for being a really difficult school

this nerd would somehow make it work

everybody who goes here already needs therapy so he’d fit right in

also i can’t really see him outside of a city, like bro would see the toronto crime (the stabbings and fires on the ttc alone are enough to keep him busy) and be like i can fix it

literally begging him to fix toronto so i can go downtown without the ttc shutting down half of line 2 for no reason

bro would not appreciate the housing though i guess

like why is he paying $2k a month for an apartment that’s only slightly better than the one he grew up in in crime alley

and he has roommates (hear me out him and the outlaws are roommates OR alternatively the most annoying stereotypical toronto men you’ve ever seen and he tries so hard not to bash his head into the wall because of them)

tim - waterloo

listen, i don’t think tim would want to go

like i don’t think uni would teach him anything be can’t figure out on his own

BUT if he had to go, i think waterloo would probably be good for their coop program

also it’s like THE asian school and i feel like most of the fandom has basically decided he’s asian anyways

erm but idk he also dropped out of high school so if he got his ossd maybe he can go to tmu or york

feel like they have the most prodigies too in terms of comp sci and eng so he’d fit right in (but unlike them he’d actually shower)

damian - mcgill

bro is not old enough to even be thinking about uni tbh

i feel like he’d go to an ivy league though, like one of the historic “real” ones

but if he must stay in canada i feel like it would be mcgill (also bc everybody i know at mcgill wants to go to harvard and that’s probably where he’d rather be)

they’ve definitely got a lot of history, they’re part of the old four, and i think he would appreciate montreal (probably would not consider any of the small towns and would think toronto is too trashy and vancouver is rainy)

would refuse to live on campus (fair enough dorms make me depressed too) and probably get a place in westmount (iykyk)

but he’s definitely going to either university of guelph or université de montréal for their vet school

i feel like he would already know french as a kid so the language barrier isn’t even a problem (wish that were me)

[colourstreakgryffin]

Charlie Morningstar × Wednesday Addams, please🙏

We all love the cheery colorful sunshine babe x the goth dark mean babe trope. Don’t we! But hey, this’ll be quite interesting, let’s try it out! I don’t know if you want it to be romantic but anyhow

Charlotte Morningstar- Colour Allergy

“Honey!”

Charlotte or usually nickname ‘Charlie’, your beloved cheerful smiley long-term girlfriend, coos out lovingly and happy as yourself is examining her brand newly modelled Hotel curiously from afar with your infamous dead silent endless scowl, since the vibrant colours make you feel ill. Besides that, the building’s decent. Despite how goth and blunt and dark you are, you deeply care for Charlie and seeing her happy is…

It feels weird but it feels good as well so you continue to make her happy via whatever you can do for her. Your black heels click with lifeless eyes dropping from the multitude of paintings and regal red silky curtains and mahogany red walls to locate the voice of your beloved

Properly facing her with your scowl somewhat dropping, softening in equal happiness. Your elegant yet almost ghostly movements making your pretty long black noose-tied-ending braids sway slightly

Charlie already takes your gorgeous braids in her hands briefly to move ‘em off your shoulders to study your beautiful monochrome-makeupped face enamoured before she gives you a BIG loving embrace

You’re getting use to this type of affection… but you did choose to date Charlie so you reciprocate the best you can, despite that positive feelings are icky to you. Your hands lay over her back and your head is nuzzles against her neck, breathing in her scent and close enough to bite it since biting is your version of affection

Charlie merely giggles the sharp but also comforting contact off inbetween a surprised little moan at the small shock of pleasure that shoots through her, still happily hugging you since she is the type who adores all types of affection, especially from her cute but gaunt monochromatic girlfriend! Her hands tracing up and down your back, on your pretty old-timey also somewhat ‘creepy’-styled black and white dress

“Do you like the Hotel?”

Biting and knawing without going too far is how you show your love for Charlie so you’re nomming on her neck as she lovingly asks for your opinion on her project coming to life. Liking the feeling of her long light blonde dual-banded ponytail slightly brushing against your own pitch black braids with your every little weave in to better embrace her

She’s use to this style of affection from you, so she tries to swallow down any little cute noises she may let out, mainly of surprise and delight, upon being nommed on. It’s so nice, she loves knowing you love her as much as she loves you and that you support her dream

Thankfully, her ladies’suit’s collar will hide the evidence of love you’ve left branded on her. Not that she’d be ashamed of it but she does need to be professional incase any guests come in! She doesn’t plan to hide that you’re her partner though and she loves the feeling of your bite marks on her neck

As she likes it when you mark her~

Charlie gives you a soft kiss on your forehead when slightly leaning down since she is a much taller woman than most ladies, even in this fiery torturous realm. Her smile basically painted on her pretty snowy white delicate face, making you want to mimic that smile despite how much of a brooding elegant lady of the darkness you are

Charlie has such an infectious personality, something of the many things you love this Princess for. She can even the biggest irredeemable prick smile and be loveable as a person. She pulls away softly, her black lipstick-tinted lips leaving her own tinge of love on your soft pale skin. Her slightly bigger clawed hands on your shoulders as she speaks up

Her gorgeous blood red eyes tracing over your beautiful soft face like her own and over how her lipstick has marked you like the red fang markings on her neck has marked her. It’s mutual, it’s equal and it shows that you both love each other so damn much, despite how opposing your personality is to Charlie’s

“I do”

Charlie smiles pleased when you answer with your monotone yet calm voice, after those few moments of silence and her eyes locked with your dark ones, overflowing with so much love and joy and adoration for you, holding your hands in hers gladly as whilst you seem so bored and unhappy with her, you’re not. You just aren’t the best with experiencing emotions and expressing yourself but you’re trying your best for her

It doesn’t mean you won’t stop being a Addams because you are one to your core. You’re just comprising for her sake since you love this Morningstar

Charlie legit smoothly spins with you, just to redirect you towards the pretty clean wooden receptionist desk with her hands laced through tightly in yours as she is so excited and gleeful that you like her Hotel and that you’re supporting her, despite how much of a irritable sharp introvert you are. You’re doing this for her and she couldn’t love you even more for it!

Bringing both you and her to the polished flat wooden surface with rhythmic steps, so you two can begin with the duties of starting up the Hotel before any of Charlie’s staff or her single actual client together as you always do. You do everything with Charlotte and you like it that way, even if you don’t word it

Charlie meets your eyes once more when you both stop in place in sync, glowing with her hyperactive cheery energy and it’s so beautiful to you. Even if you remain stoic and express no real response, she knows you care for her and you’re fully listening to her. She likes to talk to you and likes the way you quietly listen to her

She feels heard and that sugary high is addictive!

“Really?! Awww! Thank you, sweetie! I worked so hard on this for you and for us! At this rate, everybody will be smiling and happy in Heaven!”

[disaster-j]

What really pisses me off is people insisting the break-up doesn't make sense as its own thing when it's so clearly in-character for both of them

Buck has been in a serious relationship with a man for six months but hasn't said the word bisexual. We only know that's His Label bc Oliver Stark calls him bisexual outside of the show. Buck has had what seemed to be a perfect fairytale relationship with Tommy bc Tommy made him feel so safe and comfortable and taken care of that he just let everything else about his coming out journey kinda simmer on the back burner.

And, hey, there's nothing wrong with taking your time with that. But considering the scene at dispatch where he still couldn't talk about his sexuality in concrete terms, clearly he hasn't processed it much, if at all. Buck is the guy who dives deep into research at the slightest opportunity, him knowing so little about queerness and queer culture six months into a serious same-sex relationship isn't just out of character but a clear sign that he simply hasn't done any work to explore his sexuality for himself outside of his relationship with Tommy. Whether the writers intended for it read like that or not doesn't matter very much, bc that's exactly what I'm seeing here.

And, again, that alone as a reason to break up with someone is extremely shitty but that's also not what happened.

Tommy clearly has a history of isolating. He's been hurt a lot in the past, we don't need to know the details to know he's a deeply wounded man who spent most of his life guarding his own heart from the world. He told Buck and the audience over and over again, "I look confident. I look sure. I am comfortable. But it took hard work. I wasn't like this before. This is new. This is good but this is scary. I'm working on it I'm working on it I'm working."

He can see that Buck views him as something more, something better, than he thinks he is. Buck loves Tommy, Buck was infatuated with Tommy. Tommy was this perfect guy in Buck's eyes. And that scared Tommy. It intimidated him. But he kept going bc it wasn't a big deal and he could always remind Buck that hey he's just a guy, a guy who had done things wrong for a long time. But Buck never fully grasped it either. Likely bc of how good Tommy made him feel, he struggled to fully grasp that things with Tommy couldn't always be so perfect and good and safe.

They don't talk about that but they keep going bc they like each other bc they're falling in love bc until that six month mark they were both still fairly distracted by how good it felt to be together to really, seriously consider the ramifications of ignoring those not-so-little things they didn't want to face right then.

And then suddenly it's been six months and they're clearly both in love and they're both clearly not ready to be acknowledging that at all. It's been six months and they're just trying to match each other's pace but have never talked about what that pace actually is and then suddenly they're talking about how Tommy used to be engaged to the woman who taught Buck what a real relationship meant and they still aren't even ready to acknowledge they're in love but Buck is already asking to move in together and talking about marriage and they haven't even said i love yous and Buck can't even utter the word bisexual out loud but he wants to jump into living together and fusing their lives together.

But he's not ready for that. As far as Tommy can see he's not ready for that. And if he's asking for something so big when he can't even say the word love then maybe, in Tommy's mind, he'll never truly be able to say it. Maybe they'll keep going like this. Living together and being together but Buck can't face his sexuality as its own thing and Tommy can't face how his trauma affects their relationship and eventually it'll be too much and maybe Buck still wouldn't want to say it and Tommy would push him away like he pushes everyone away and then they'll be right back to that moment, weeks or months or years later, with Buck wanting more but not able to say those words and with Tommy wishing he'd left before it hurt so much.

And sure it hurts to leave now but at least now he's early. Now, Buck hasn't wrapped himself around every piece of his life. Just his heart. At least now he'll hurt but he won't have to move just to get rid of the scent of Evan Buckley perpetually lingering in every corner of his home.

Buck loves Tommy so much he can't imagine a future without him. Tommy loves him so much he can't imagine a future where he gets to keep him.

The break-up makes all the sense in the world. It just doesn't make sense that the break-up wouldn't force them to work on their respective issues and bring them back together stronger in the future.