#it’s important to know when to end a story

[nonsensology]

Later at the wish granting ceremony, CEO Magnifico announces he’s greenlit Ice Age 6 and five more live-action remakes.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

There are so many cancelled and unrealized projects that Disney is sitting on, that they do not benefit from in any way by keeping them locked up tight. They really ought to just let them go if they don't have any intentions of doing anything with them.

Incidentally, I could never agree with the mentality of “Magnifico is actually the hero, and Asha is the TRUE villain” that a lot of people seem to have. I drew my comic based on this post. I feel like if more people had been aware of this possible interpretation, they wouldn’t have sympathized with Magnifico.

Does Wish have bad writing? Yes, it does. And it’s because of that bad writing that every single character suffers. What I think happened is that, as a result of said bad writing, Asha became a character that’s so uncompelling and lacks uniqueness that she ends up a blank slate for audiences to project their frustrations with the movie onto. King Magnifico on the other hand, is probably the most interesting and entertaining character, due in no small part to Chris Pine’s performance, and so the audience is much more sympathetic towards him and willing to ignore his flaws.

One of Asha’s problems as a character is that she doesn’t really contribute much to the story. By contrast, Magnifico’s downfall is brought about entirely as a result of his own actions. Magnifico is in fact not a good leader, because he gives in to paranoia and temptation, acts in a very unprofessional manner, and escalates the conflict to an absurd degree.

Please note, Asha does not get upset that Magnifico refuses to grant her grandfather’s wish, nor does she ever demand that Magnifico needs to grant every wish. She gets upset that he insinuates that her grandfather might have dangerous intentions, and because he does not have a convincing reason why he doesn’t return wishes that he won’t grant. Rather than calmly explaining his reasoning to her, Magnifico rudely dismisses Asha and then blows up at her.

If Magnifico were a good leader, he would have explained to each person WHY he won’t grant their wish, and given them advice on alternatives. As it stands, he knows full well that everyone expects their wish to be granted. It’s why they even came to Rosas in the first place, it is the literal reason he even built his kingdom. He clearly makes a big spectacle out of the wish granting ceremonies, which every citizen visibly goes wild for. Not to mention, he literally tells Asha, "People think wishes are just ideas. But no, no, they are a part of your heart. The very best part." He knows, for a fact, how important wishes are to everyone. But the movie's awful writing makes him think the best solution to dealing with wishes that MIGHT have dangerous consequences, is to just hoard them. All that returning the ungranted wishes will accomplish is returning the memory of what the wish even is, that's literally it, and the people will be no better off than they were before they gave Magnifico their wish.

I dunno about you guys, but whenever I watched stories that preached “be careful what you wish for”, my takeaway was never “your desires could be dangerous and you should never pursue them for fear of disaster”, I always thought the stories were telling us, “beware of anything that promises instant gratification, because it’s usually too good to be true, and will cost you more than you will gain”. While the things you want in life may have disastrous consequences, you won’t really know until you try to pursue them through your own honest efforts, and not through “magical” shortcuts. That’s how we learn and grow, through trial and error. 

As it currently stands from my point of view, when people say "Magnifico has every right to keep ungranted wishes" it looks like they're unintentionally saying, “The Disney Corporation has every right to keep your work and ideas, because you willingly and legally handed them over. Tough luck if you regret the deal you were given. No takesies backsies!”

While I have found no evidence to confirm that the filmmakers intended for Magnifico to be a criticism of Corporate Disney, considering the inclusion of the animation sweatshop scene in Pixar's Inside Out 2, I think the probability is likely. (Not to mention, when Asha shows Magnifico her little flipbook animation, he remarks “Do we consider that a talent?”)

Please note, everyone is free to rewrite and reinterpret Magnifico however they want. He's just a fictional character after all, and fan content is supposed to be for fun. I just think it's funny how defensive people get over him. They say he deserved better, and I agree, but we have very different ideas of what "better" means. In fact, I think every character in Wish deserved better, because again, they were all victims of bad writing. My problem isn't that they took a good man and made him arbitrarily "evil", it's that they didn't make him evil enough from the very beginning. Remember those deleted scenes featuring a villainous Magnifico with better writing, along with an evil Amaya that he can play off of? I'm fairly certain that everyone unanimously agreed these deleted scenes were much better than the final movie, and yet some still insist that Magnifico should have been a hero all along. I dunno, it's a funny dichotomy. 

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 13)

summary: now that filming for deadpool & wolverine has finished, you and hugh go back home to new york and he asks you a very important question. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: smut (18+, mdni), hugh can't control himself, spooning (?) position, light choking, dirty talk, unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 2.7k a/n: surprise! new chapter dropping a day early hehe. anyway, i've anticipated that this story will have a total of 19 parts (at least for what i have outlined!). we got a few chapters of some good ol' fluff and smut, so hope y'all enjoy! thank you all for reading! 💙💛 as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part.

You and the rest of the cast and crew are listening to Shawn make a brief speech about the movie, about all the hard work everyone’s put into creating this. It chokes you up, tears stinging your eyes as you do your best to take more photographs. This opportunity was once in a lifetime and now that you and Hugh will be heading home, you wonder if things will change. You had been by his side for the duration of filming and you can’t imagine going back to New York and not being able to sleep next to him, or even wake up with him by your side. 

You look up at Hugh for a moment, still in his Wolverine costume but a large black coat draped around him to keep him warm. You lean against him, his eyes gazing down at you as he leans down to kiss the side of your temple. After Shawn’s speech finishes, everyone claps and celebrates the end of filming. 

You pull away from Hugh to continue to capture moments, smiling to yourself. Some are smiling, some are crying – everyone who was part of this movie had given their all and you just can’t wait to see the finished product for it. You manage to sneak away from the crowd, deciding to walk around the set. You don’t think you’ll ever be able to get to do this again and certainly not with this group of people. It’s bittersweet actually – having to go back home and face reality. 

You stop walking for a moment and hear Hugh’s voice calling your name. You turn to face him, seeing him jog slowly over to you. He gently takes your hand and pulls you into him, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “You snuck away,” he points out.

“Just wanted to get one last look,” you smile, moving your arms around him. “Can’t believe we’re gonna be home tomorrow.” 

“This project has been a dream,” Hugh admits. “And having you here made it even better.” 

You look up at him, linking your hands at his lower back. “Thank you,” you say softly. “For bringing me here with you.” 

“I’d miss you hell of a lot if you weren’t here,” Hugh chuckles. “Are you ready to be back in New York?” 

You shrug. “I’m gonna miss seeing everyone everyday. I’m gonna miss seeing you everyday.” 

Hugh smiles, bringing a hand up to tuck a few strands of hair behind your ear. “Me too, baby. I’ve gotten used to you being next to me when I sleep and wake up. Hard to think that we won’t have that when we get back home…” he continues. 

“We’ll manage,” you smile. “I believe in us.” 

Hugh grins. “You’re just perfect, aren’t you?” he teases.

“That’s something I usually say to you,” you laugh, burying your face against his chest. 

Hugh chuckles and holds you close, shutting his eyes as he holds you in his arms. He isn’t sure how things will change when you both go back to New York, but he has been thinking of asking you a question for months now. When he pulls away, Hugh looks down at you and gently leans in to peck your lips. “Will you stay the week with me when we get back home?” 

“I’d like that.” 

“Good,” Hugh says quietly. “Because I don’t think I wanna let you go yet.” 

“Hm,” you whisper. “You must really love me.”

“More than you even know, baby.” 

—

Back in New York, Hugh finds that having you in his apartment is where you should be. You’re so comfortable in his space and he enjoys the ability to wake up and sleep next to you. It’s something he had gotten used to during filming. The question he’s been wanting to ask lingers over him – even now, when you’re sitting on his couch in a pair of shorts and one of his t-shirts with a book in your lap, he wants so badly to ask you the one question that’s been on his mind. 

He wonders if maybe he’s moving too fast, if maybe you’re not quite ready to take that next step in your relationship. Hugh slowly walks over to you, seeing you look up from your book and a smile immediately lines your lips. He feels his heart race at the sight – almost like he had fallen in love all over again. He watches you set your book on the coffee table and lean back against the couch, arms spread open for him.

Hugh crawls over you and settles himself between your legs, head resting against your chest as his arms wrap around you. He shuts his eyes, feeling your fingertips run through his hair as he lets out a contented sigh. “Hi, baby.” 

“Hey,” you whisper, smiling down at him. “How was the run?”

“Would rather have done cardio with you,” he teases and nuzzles his face further into you, pressing a soft kiss on your chest. 

“You’re insatiable,” you laugh quietly.

“Not true. I’m just addicted to you,” Hugh corrects, slowly opening his eyes to look up at you. 

You roll your eyes playfully, a small smile lining your lips as you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “What’s gonna happen when I have to go home then?” 

Hugh bites his lower lip, chin resting against your chest as your fingers continue to run through his hair. “What if…” he whispers quietly. “What if you just stay here?” 

“I’ve been here for almost a week, Hugh.”

“I know, but I mean…” Hugh crawls further up your body, hand moving to prop himself up as he stares down at you. “What if you just move in?”

Your eyes slightly widen and you slowly begin to sit up, Hugh following your movements to sit next to you instead. His arm drapes over the back of the couch, a nervous expression written across his features. “You want me to move in? That’s– That’s a big step, Hugh. Are you sure?” 

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he answers. “I want you here all the time, but if you still need time, still need space, then I understand. It’s just–” Hugh sighs. “I’ve been thinking about asking you to move in with me for months now.”

“Hugh…” 

He shakes his head, standing up from the couch. “Ah, it’s okay, baby. I don’t want to push you. We can reevaluate at another time.”

“Wait, hey,” you sigh, watching him walk towards the kitchen. You stand up and follow him, seeing him gather his cup and protein. He isn’t looking at you, focused on making his protein shake. “Hugh…” You walk around the counter and gently rest a hand over his forearm, urging him to look at you. When he does, you can see the distress in his features, the subtle embarrassment flickering in his expression. 

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he sighs. 

“Are you sure about me moving in?” you ask hesitantly. 

“Baby,” Hugh runs a hand over his face and lets out a shaky breath. “I’m sure, but if you’re not ready yet, that’s okay too.” 

“Ask me again,” you say.

“What?” 

“Ask me again,” you repeat. 

“Baby,” Hugh shakes his head. 

“Hugh, ask me again.” 

He bites his lower lip and turns to face his entire body at you. Hugh moves his hands to rest on your hips, clearing his throat anxiously. “Will you move in with me?” 

You move your hands to his cheeks, brushing your thumbs across his soft skin. “Yes, I’d love to move in with you, Hugh.” 

“Yeah?” he asks. 

“Yeah, Hugh,” you smile. 

Slowly, a large grin lines his lips and he wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you gently off your feet. “Oh, baby, I love you.” he leans in and presses his lips against yours, moving his hands under your legs to lift you onto the counter of his kitchen island. 

Pulling away, you move your hands to his shoulders as he stands between your legs. His hands move along your thighs, biting the inside of his cheek as he keeps his eyes focused on you. “So, I’m moving in.”

“Yeah, yeah you are.” 

—

The next couple of weeks were spent moving your things out of your apartment and into Hugh’s home. This last year with him doesn’t feel real – part of you feels like you’re going to wake up and realize it was all just a dream. You’ve been doing a lot better with your self-talk, with your confidence, and it helps having Hugh and your personal trainer to help you. Jack, on the other hand, hasn’t reached out to you since that night on location. You’re grateful though because you aren’t sure what would happen if he continued to be persistent. 

After all of your things have been moved to Hugh’s place, you look around and notice that your life is now blending in with Hugh’s. He had told his kids about you, even having had the chance to meet them in person. You had told your parents about Hugh, hesitant at first because of the age gap, but they were just glad to see you happy after Jack. 

Hugh comes home late one night after dinner with Shawn and Ryan, only to find you already lying in bed, back facing the door as you’re asleep on your side. The blanket doesn’t do a good job at covering your body because it’s tangled between your legs, exposing your legs and backside for him. He clears his throat at the sight of you, dressed in one of his t-shirts and a pair of black panties. Quietly, he undoes his jeans and lowers it down his legs, kicking them silently to the side. He grabs the end of his shirt and lifts it over his head, letting it fall to the floor. Now clad in a pair of boxer briefs with his manhood straining the fabric, Hugh slowly climbs into bed, snuggling you from behind. 

His hand moves to your hip, slowly brushing it down the side of your leg and back up to tease the waistband of your panties. Hugh feels you move back against him, your backside now flush with his growing erection. You let out a quiet whimper and unconsciously roll your hips back into him. Hugh leans in and presses soft and light kisses along the side of your neck, your whimpers and moans coming out quiet and breathless. 

He moves his hand lower and pushes your panties to the side, his fingertips brushing against your slit. Hugh sees your eyes flutter open, mouth slightly agape as you stare up at him with slightly sleepy eyes. 

“H– Hugh,” you moan. “You’re back.” 

“Sorry I came home late,” Hugh whispers into your ear, nibbling on your earlobe as he slowly slides one finger into your depths. He groans quietly, feeling your wetness soak his digit. “Been dreaming about me, baby? You’re already wet.”

“Always dream of you,” you whimper, tossing your head back against his shoulder. 

Hugh smirks against you and uses his free arm to wrap around your shoulders, cupping your neck as he applies slight pressure to your throat. He hears you gasp and he thrusts another digit into you, beginning to move his fingers in and out of your soaking heat. “Love coming home to you,” he whispers, teeth grazing your earlobe. 

“Hugh,” you whimper, moving your hand to wrap around his wrist that’s slowly thrusting his fingers in lazy strokes. 

“I can’t control myself when I’m around you,” Hugh admits, keeping his fingers deeply flushed into your heat as he slowly begins to curl them within your depths. You arch your back against him, the sensations of his fingers, his throbbing length against your backside, and his hand around your throat becomes overwhelming – this wasn’t what you expected to happen when he came home from dinner.

“Baby, please,” you moan. 

“Need you bad,” Hugh growls. He pulls his fingers from you and uses the same hand to push his briefs down his legs, kicking them off and away from the bed. He takes a hold of himself and uses your slickness from his fingers to lubricate himself. “Won’t last long,” he admits. 

“Just need you, please,” you whimper, feeling his tip brush against your opening. “Hugh, god, please!” 

Hugh chuckles lowly into your ear, tightening his grip around your throat just slightly as he pushes himself past your folds. He groans and moves his hand from the base of his member to grip your hip, pulling you back into him as he pushes his hips forward. “Fuck, baby,” he moans. “Always feel so good around me.”

He moves the top of your leg slightly forward, opening yourself even further to him as he slides inch by inch into your tight and wet heat. Hugh drops his hand from your throat to grasp your breast from over the shirt you’re wearing, your back flush against his chest. This position is new for the both of you – it’s intimate, slow. 

With his hand on your hip, he grips it tightly as he continues his slow and deep thrusts, eyes falling shut. Hugh’s sounds of pleasure – grunts, growls, and groans – echo in your ear and it only drives you closer to your high. You feel every inch of his throbbing manhood move in and out of you, but your eyes widen slightly when his hand moves from your hip to your front, beginning to rub your bundle of nerves over the fabric of your panties. “Hugh!” 

“Yeah, I know,” he whispers with a growl. “Gotta come for me, baby.”

You nod and push back against him, his fingers applying pressure to your clit as he rubs it in circles. His thrusts become a bit more quick, almost erratic and you know that he’s close too. 

“Feels so good,” you moan, your walls beginning to tighten with each thrust forward. You rest the back of your head against his shoulder, eyes shut tight. Suddenly, when he growls into your ear, your walls tighten around him and you push back into him, body trembling against his own. 

Hugh grins to himself, holding you close to him as he thrusts in and out of you, using your tightened walls to get him closer and closer to his own release. “Baby,” he groans. “Gonna come, oh fuck–” Hugh shuts his eyes tight as he releases into you, his hips coming to a slow stop. 

You feel his warmth fill you up and he’s panting into your ear. When he pulls back slowly, you whimper, feeling the emptiness that his girth and length has left but feeling his seed trickle out of you. 

“I’m so glad you moved in,” Hugh whispers, placing a soft kiss on the side of your neck. “Can have you whenever I want.” 

You smile and slowly move to lie on your back, readjusting your panties to cover yourself up as you stare up at him. You reach up and place a hand on his cheek as he leans into your touch, turning his head to kiss the inside of your wrist. “That was a nice thing to wake up to,” you admit.

“Yeah? You like that, huh?” Hugh winks. 

“Oh yeah,” you smile. “Guess I have to return the favor and wake you up in my own way now.” 

Hugh smirks and lies on his back, pulling you to his side. “Looking forward to it, baby.” 

“How was Ryan and Shawn?” 

“Good,” he answers. “Just planning for the press tour,” he says softly, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. “Wish you could come with me.”

“I’m all booked with shoots for the next three months, baby.”

“I know,” Hugh turns his head and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll at least accompany me to the premiere of the movie right?”

“Like a red carpet premiere?” 

Hugh nods. “Yeah, I’d really love for you to be by my side that night.”

“It’ll be the first event since we got together…” 

“Is that okay?” 

You nod and lean up to peck his lips. “As long as I’ve got you, Hugh, that’s more than okay.”

Hugh grins. “And you’ve got me, baby. Always have, always will.”

---

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@jules-and-gemss

[specialagentartemis]

This is a common way people have been taking my post—“you need to meticulously Research Every Single Thing”—and that’s not what I meant and not what I said. Which is why it doesn’t focus on research or even “write what you know,” it focuses on being curious.

Curiosity doesn’t mean you have to know exactly what year doorknobs were invented or are required to work out the orbital dynamics of the planet your fantasy kingdom is on. If you find that fun (I often do!) more power to you. If you don’t, I’m not gonna get on your ass about unrealistic placement of tectonic plates. But my point was that you should wonder how it would affect the world and the story you’re telling.

I make fun of tropes like “this fantasy empire has lasted 10,000 years” not because ~ oh that’s impossible~, but because the dynamics of it as presented usually make it clear the author has not actually sat back and thought about how long 10,000 years is or how much will inevitably change in that amount of time. This is the FIRST time a succession crisis has ever come up? Really? This not only strains credulity, it makes the fantasy world seem flimsy—for 10,000 years nothing happened, now everything is happening at once. That’s the kind of worldbuilding I’m criticizing. If you wrote an empire that lasted 10,000 years, you don’t have to write down every single king and what they did and the whole history of every ethnic group in the empire and build a proto-language for a set of conlangs that have shifted into non-mutually-intelligible languages in different parts of the empire—but it should occur to you that there must have been some of that happening, and that would affect the empire as it exists now and the lives of the people in it.

I’m not saying you need to write a comprehensive history textbook of your fascist space empire—I’m saying you should be curious about how fascist empires actually maintain control of disparate places and how that would affect how it operates and how people live in those places now, if you’re going to be setting a book there. Otherwise, you end up repeating stale tropes about what you vaguely think fascism is and empires do.

Generally, I think worldbuilding energy is best spent 20% on how it happened, and 80% on how it affects the characters. If you have your Exotic Fantasy-Middle-Eastern Market Bazaar, you can justify why that evolved, culturally, in your world, but much more important is actually learning about the social context of what people actually do there and how it shapes daily life (and in the process you will likely make it less stereotypical and insulting). If you want to write a fascist space empire, you can write a history of how it expanded and what planets it controls, but more important is wondering about why it’s an expansionist empire, what resources this planet-setting has that it wants and why it wants them, and what life under imperial rule is like in the core vs. the periphery and how that will affect the life and experiences and opportunities and worldview of your characters.

There’s a reason half of the examples I gave in the post were about characterization choices, not worldbuilding research! Curiosity means thinking beyond a surface level about what you’re writing, asking yourself why you’re writing what you’re writing and if it grows out of what you actually wrote or if you’re just unthinkingly repeating tropes or making assumptions that makes your story weaker because you’re defaulting to surface level clichés rather than thinking about if these characters in this setting with these experiences would do or think or say that. It’s about characters who are gung-ho anti-imperialists when it’s unclear what in their background would lead them to think this way other than that they’re the Good Guys so Of Course They Do. It’s about a scene where a fisherman lets a fish suffocate in the air without the author ever wondering if that’s actually how you kill a fish you caught. It’s about characters who stop the story dead in its tracks to have a conversation about asexuality when their characterization so far has led me to think that the ghost that stole their memories and the government hunting them down for a murder they don’t know if they committed would be a much, much more pressing concern for them right now. It’s about this post about Kendra from Buffy. It’s less about research—although frequently the conclusion will in fact be “I need to do more research about this”—it’s about critical thinking and asking yourself questions about what you’re actually writing.

“Be curious about what you’re writing about” is not stock Common Writing Advice but it really, really should be. There are a lot of written works that fail due to the authors just being obviously incurious about what they are writing about.

[myownwholewildworld]

veni, vidi, victus sum (a "per aspera ad astra" drabble)

main masterlist | series masterlist | read on ao3 pairing: marcus acacius x emperor's daughter!reader. summary: marcus returns from war with the worst news possible. a/n: considering that i started this story here by posting the end first... may i interest you in how it all started? c: i appreciate comments and reblogs, they make me happy knowing that people enjoy my writing <3 take care x warnings: 18+, mdni. pure angst because i don't know any better. death of a secondary character. w/c: 2.3k

July, 106 AD

Marcus’ right hand shook uncontrollably. So much so, he had to wrap his left around the opposite wrist and squeeze as hard as he could, hoping to stop the tremor that suddenly took hold of his muscles and soul.

He hadn't even had time to wash off the mud and sweat. Nor to process everything that had happened in the last few days. Once his mission was done and dusted, only then and in the privacy of his own company, would he give himself permission to break down. He would be a terrible General if he let himself be dominated by emotion at such important moment for the Empire.

Returning from Dacia after an intense campaign, Marcus had been at the head of the Roman column that would carry out the offensive towards the east of the Dacian capital, Sarmizegetusa, while General Atticus, his inseparable friend to whom he would have blindly entrusted his life, and son-in-law to Emperor Traianus, led the battle towards the center of the town.

That week the Empire had annexed a new region that would bring great wealth. But Marcus, personally, had lost much more than what he truly had gained. Lady Justice had spoken, letting the balance tip completely in favour of collective Roman rule and not his personal one.

Marcus walked between the marble columns of a secluded hallway in the Domus Flavia, the public area of ​​the Imperial Palace on Palatine Hill, as if he was an umbra. He put one foot in front of the other automatically, his mind on a land more than six hundred Roman miles away.

The siege of the Dacian capital to the east had been especially bloody. The enemy had presented a good strategy; the thread of many souls being skewed by the Parcae on both fronts. Among them, that of his own son, Augustus. At eighteen years old, he had been a great military promise, the best candidate to one day replace his father.

If Marcus closed his eyes, he could still remember Augustus’ warm, battered body in his arms. His empty orbs, observing the infinite, reflected the horror of his last seconds in this world. A thick and rudimentary pilum protruding from his chest was a macabre picture Marcus would have trouble forgetting. Its tip so sharp, it had pierced through the segmented lorica with ease, embedding itself in his heart, blood still gushing out.

By the time Marcus’ knees hit the ground by Augustus’ side, Pluto had already claimed his son to join His ranks. The bloodshed had continued to unfold around him, a maddening dance of swords, as if the world had not just stopped —as if Marcus had not just lost the only reason that kept him standing.

His reality had just sunk into the blackest misery and the rest of humanity was there, present yet impassive, blind to his pain.

But there had been no time to grieve — not there, during the darkest hour.

An enemy sword hovered over him, and he had to react.

When the battle died down and his soldiers celebrated the victory, Marcus dragged the corpse of his only son to the edge of some oleanders, where he managed to dig a hole with the help of his gladius and his own fingers.

Time was of the essence, which prevented him from laying Augustus to rest following the rituals of the Roman religion. He could only place a bronze coin over Augustus' mouth as payment to Charon, the ferryman of the Underworld, before throwing dirt on him. He then had composed himself as best he could, letting the General's façade fall on his face, and headed east, unaware that his friend Atticus had suffered a similar end.

On one day alone, he had lost two of the most important people in his life.

His mind returned to the present. From his right hand hung the decapitated head of Decebalus, already so decomposed that there was no blood left inside. The coward had tried to escape to Ranisstorum and, in his last desperate moments, committed suicide when Marcus and another officer, Tiberius Maximus, were hunting him down.

Finding his enemy defeated by his own demons was an anticlimactic moment, given the events of the previous days. Tiberius circumambulated towards Sarmizegetusa again, while Marcus and his legion, along with Atticus’, returned to Rome.

He was defeated, physically and mentally. Marcus just wanted to finish that damned mission and return to his villa. An empty one, devoid of a family he once revered.

In the blink of an eye, he found himself in the throne room, with Emperor Traianus staring at him, a sardonic smile painting his lips. After placing the head of Decebalus at the feet of the Emperor, he gave his last report of war. When the time came to deliver the news that his son-in-law, General Atticus, had perished in battle, the smile faded from Traianus’ face. That would be a hard blow to recover from.

Marcus explained the details that had been entrusted to him, omitting the death of his firstborn and ending with the fact that Atticus’ legion was carrying his corpse through the streets of Rome at that very moment, heading to the basilica of the Domus Flavia to begin with the funeral rites.

At least one of the two would have proper burial.

He said goodbye with deferential courtesy and shuffled out of there. He still had one last assignment: to inform the wife of General Atticus and daughter of the Emperor, you.

With heavy feet, Marcus ambled towards the most private wing of the Palace, the Domus Augustana. One of the maids guided him through the unfamiliar corridors, leaving him in front of a basin raised on a half column. Marcus took the hint, realising that there was still dirt—and specks of dried blood—embedded in his face. He did as he was asked, drying his skin with a linen cloth, before resuming his pace.

Finally, they stopped in front of double doors, and the maid knocked.

A minute later, they swung open.

Steeling himself for what was to come, Marcus bowed his aching back, keeping his eyes on the expensive stone that lined the floor.

“Domina mea (my lady),” he greeted you with deference.

Keeping busy while worry stalked the back of your mind was a colossal task. One you should have been used to by now, but it was nonetheless nerve-wracking.

Having to wait around until you heard news from your husband was not how you wanted to spend your days, but for love you had to. For Rome, you had to. Your husband, Resius Atticus, was your father’s most trusted ally, which meant he was kept away from you for long nights.

You flicked through the pages of the shabby parchment, its ink slowly fading with the passage of time. Finding yourself reading the same paragraph again, you decided to put it aside. You curled up on the chaise lounge, hugging your knees as the sun filtered through the slit window — a ray of sunshine kissing your skin, leaving a warm trail.

Closing your eyes, you revelled in the rare moment of quiet, of peace, a smile lingering on the corners of your mouth.

A knock on the door swept the instant away, and then your heart fluttered uncontrollably.

Today was the day when Resius was meant to return. To his duties in the court, but also to you. You looked forward to settling back into a routine with him, lazy afternoons spent by the private gardens, talking sweet nothings to each other. Despite the years spent by his side, you didn’t tire of him, of your unbreakable relationship.

So, when you swung the double doors open with a pearly smile tugging at your lips, you did not expect to see your husband’s best friend instead.

Your heart suddenly stopped in your chest, swelling to an uncomfortable point. It stretched, a crawling feeling tearing your skin apart from the inside out.

Widened eyes, they locked on his, searching for answers and finding none. Marcus wore an impassible expression, but the way he averted his glassy eyes told you everything you needed to know.

This could only mean one thing. Your worst nightmare taking form, escaping from your dreams and filtering into reality.

Still shocked, you saw the server scurrying away, leaving you alone with the General — but not your General.

“May I come in, Augusta (Imperial Princess)?” his soft voice broke through your blocked eardrums.

Jarred, you nodded, stepping aside to let Acacius in.

You stood there, numb and confounded, your brain trying to find another reason for General Acacius’ visit.

“Please, let us sit down,” Acacius spoke gently, a firm hand on the small of your back guiding you towards the chaise lounge.

This truly felt like a dream, ethereal and foggy, something your vivid imagination had come up with during an unrequited afternoon nap. That had to be it, because this could not be it. You still had a thousand lives to live besides Resius — you had prayed to the Gods for his safe return and they never failed you.

Under Acacius’ direction, you sat down, the pillow underneath giving way to the weight of both of you.

“Domina mea, I regret to be the bearer of bad news. General Atticus perished at the mercy of a Dacian sword, defending two of his fallen soldiers from certain death,” his words shook your system, the numbness taking hold of all your being.

Silence lingered, and you both sat there with eyes fixed on nothing.

This just wasn’t real, couldn’t be. You refused to register such cruel information, shaking your head to unhear what had been spoken aloud.

“No, you have to be wrong, Acacius. I am sure you are,” you finally replied, eyes looking for his tired orbs. A hand flew to one of his resting on his knee, squeezing it tight. “You are wrong. This must be some twisted joke.”

Acacius’ sight did not lie though. You could see the pain emanating from his eyes, the utter bareness they exuded. With pursed lips, he just stared at you, his free hand hovering over yours on his knee until he stroked it warmly.

“I am truly sorry, Domina mea. I… I wish I was lying,” his voice faltered momentarily. “I lament not having been by his side. Had I been, I would have gladly traded my life for his. I would have…”

Acacius did not finish the sentence, because the wail that tore through your throat interrupted him. A fresh wound split your chest in half, all emotions pouring out in a sudden burst. Tears welled up, blurring your vision, and you clutched at your chest, your lungs shrinking with your heart. A burning sensation filled you and then deserted you, leaving you empty, cold — broken.

Losing Resius was a death sentence to your heart, to your soul. To all you were and would be. Life would not—could not—be the same if he was no longer brightening it for you. Hope was no longer your companion, the easy happiness that usually shimmered within you all gone with the blow of a few simple words.

Something crawled inside you, twisting and twitching and breaking and consuming. Something dark, something sad, something shattered. Grief suffocated your heart. This was not pain, this was torment. Living hell.

The raw intensity of it all clouded your mind. Your fractured soul looking for a chink of solace, wanting to cling onto a sliver of hope. Before thinking, you let go of the dam of your emotions, sobs flooding your mouth, as you turned around and hugged Acacius.

Little did it matter the blood and dirt on his worn armour, you needed the comfort of a friendly shoulder. Acacius would understand your pain, the suffering that crushed your soul, because he had also lost his best friend. The two of them had been inseparable for decades — you both had lost someone important that day. He would understand. You knew he did.

Threading your arms around his shoulders, you cried your sorrow in the crook of his neck, kind palms rubbing your back, commending your pain to leave your body. So, you wept until your eyes were bloodshot, until they itched and dried like a river during the worst drought of the century. Trickles of tears stained your cheeks, lashes clumping together under the heaviness of tearful dew.

Time was lost to the dragging pain, and only when Acacius’ hands stroked your shoulders, did you venture a look in his direction, leaning back. The naked expression on his face told you how much agony he carried. The soreness his eyes distilled was on par with yours.

“I am sorry for your loss too,” you offered your condolences. After all, he had lost his best friend. “I trust that your son Augustus found his way back home safe.”

Before their departure, Acacius and his son had paid you both a visit, a meal shared at night between old friends’ jests and company. You remembered Augustus’ enthusiasm to make his father proud on their first campaign together. How Acacius had looked at his heir with adulation and pride — the apple of his eyes. Acacius’ wife had died during childbirth, which had only reinforced the close relationship between father and son.

A feeble smile loitered on his mouth, a brief nod putting your mind at ease. Neither of you needed more suffering tonight.

“He is resting now,” was his succinct reply.

But Acacius always was, so his reassurance soothed your soul a little.

At least Acacius and his son had made it out alive.

[venuslarkspur]

Teen Hero Shenanigans

Part 2

We Were Written In The Stars, Boyfriend Of Mine.

Summary: Your Damian’s Twin Sister, after arriving 3 years after your brother, you never excepted to take the Robin mantle, until your brother runs away and you volunteer to take his place. Damian eventually returns and you are discharged from the role, after bottling up your anger you decide to go solo by running away and stealing the Batgirl. But you’re not alone, your sort of boyfriend joins you. The main problem is the boyfriend in question is your brother’s best friend, Jon Kent.

Pairing: Jon Kent x Batsis!Reader on this one. Mentions of platonic batfam and reader.

Notes: Sorry this took so long and it’s shorts I have an exam in 2 days 😢 - ONLY HALF PROOF-READ IM SORRY. Just pure Jon and Reader today

Warnings: Mentions of past child abuse, vomiting, derogatory language, cuts and bruises. Reader has some childhood ptsd.

Words: 1.6k

This morning was significantly quiet, sitting on the windowsill of what was your new home you hadn’t heard a scream in the last 12 hours, no petty purse snatching in sight. There were some clouds in the sky, it was never this nice in Gotham, too much pollution. But the harsh breeze against your skin reminded you of what life was like in the mountains training with your grandfather, it really made you think of how ironic it was that you always got Damian’s sloppy seconds. First being heir of the league of assassins, then being Robin, but now you have something that’s yours; the sleeping boy in the bed across from you. Even though he was technically Damian’s first, he doesn’t get to see him this way.

You dabbed your wounds again and let out a disgruntled noise upon hitting a bruise, you grabbed some honey and dabbed it on the dried up cut. You had gotten into a confrontation last night and you weren’t expecting for the low level thug to have some backup. Long story short, he had a ridiculously big group of goons and Jon had to come and help. Let’s hope they all had health insurance for the beating you both gave them. But you couldn’t lie, without your father or siblings there you felt like a rogue, even when you were fighting crime with Jason you never felt this out of place. You felt like you would relapse at any moment and forget your new ways. You never took pleasure in killing, it’s just how your grandfather taught you. Nobody taught you about redemption, you were just explained the world in black and white.

Luckily, you had Jon if you ever nearly slip up. You hadn’t looked at your phone in 3 good days and you had been happy that way, you missed them, even your father to an extent but you also knew proving yourself was important. The highlight of all of this was Jon, sure breaking a few scum noses was nice too. But nothing beats the adrenaline of going on patrol together and the press wondering when you two became an item, you leave as quickly as possible though; you can’t risk your family coming to get you or Jon’s for that matter. It was a bit easier for Jon, his parents trusts him and loves him. Your family loves you too, but if Bruce trusted you then why fire you?

“Ouch.” You murmur after hitting a particularly sensitive bruise, deciding that’s enough and wanting to spend some more time with Jon before your patrol, you slip back next to him; ruffling his hair and trying to shuffle as close as humanely possible, the more you shuffled the more healed you felt by the moment, not just physically but mentally as well. There was so many things to tell him, about your overbearing mother? Or maybe almost being disowned by your grandfather? But you didn’t wanna tell him things he wouldn’t know what to do with. So you embrace him and he gets the message and pulls your waist around him, which made you hope the morning would never end.

————————

“I received a call from Clark this morning.” Bruce said sternly to almost all his children, they all sat on the couch, “Clark? has he found her?” Stephanie spoke up first, her eyes widened with hope as Barbara placed a hand on her shoulder. “Steph..” she said whilst rubbing her back to comfort her. “Well, what did he say?” Barbara asked, Bruce let out a sigh and faced his kids.

“You all remember Jon right?” They all nodded in unison and mutual confusion, “Well, recently Jon has gone off too, they think around the same time as your sister.”

“What are you saying?”

————————

“You okay?” Jon asked as you searched the knocked out drug dealer in front of you. “Absolutely nothing, no leads.” You replied, you’ve been trying to find the boss of a local drug cartel but you’ve had no luck. “Babe, I was asking about you.” He looked down at his shoes before moving over to you. His glowing features making you forget about the filthy, rat infested alley. “Ups and downs, some days I really miss my family.” You look down and don’t realise the thug under you has woken up and has now broken out of his restraints. “I’ll get you for this you slu-“ he lunges at you seething with anger; but you swiftly move out of the way and restrain his hands before Jon hastily pins him to the ground again, using his weight against him. “You brats..” you role your eyes and gesture Jon to walk away with you, and you nearly did until for the first time you lost sense of self.

“You fucking cunt! Look at me!” The thugs screams and you pull Jon along, nothing he can say to you can do anything, you’ve heard it all, well until he reopened some old wounds; emotional wounds. “You are nothing bitch!” You stop dead in your tracks, Jon looking at you with extreme concern and wondering what changed. Immediate memories flood in, Damian leaving, your grandfather working you to the bone after his disowned, former heir left. Harsh days that ended in you holding your stomach and trying to keep your breakfast from coming up, which didn’t always work and wasn’t always pleasant. Vomiting blood was the worst of it after you were hit a bit too hard and were left clenching onto your stomach for dear life.

“On your feet.” A grating voice that resembled your grandfather spoke, were you having a panic attack? All you knew is you were reliving you worst memories. Please I don’t want to remember! I won’t. “Do you want to be meaningless? Pick up your sword and face me, I won’t allow you to fail.” You wondered if your mother even cared, she would carefully ogle your hands at night, commenting on how your once porcelain, delicate, hands were now ruined. But she did nothing about it, you wanted to be the heir; but not like this. You risked being disowned too if you even asked about your father or brothers, so you didn’t. You just didn’t,

“Babe? Are you okay?” A familiar voice said, you were now acutely aware you were out of the alley and lifted into your boyfriend’s arms. “You were in a daze..I couldn’t wake you up I’m sorry.” He looked down whilst placing you guys atop a nearby building, “it’s okay, I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before.” Jon offered you and sympathetic look before taking one of your hands in his, “I wanted to show you something to make you feel better.” You tilted your head, wondering what he had planned.

“Come.” He said and slowly lifted his feet of the group flying upwards, you were also gently lifted off the ground; surprisingly, no strain, only his gorgeous features. “Only a little longer now.” He said as he went further up in the sky only a bit stray of the clouds, he quickly shifted you upwards into the bridal carry. “Sorry if this isn’t a comfortable position, I wanted you to be facing me; since you’re my equal and everything..” he spoke in a shy tone, without hiding the faint blush on his face. Your heart was melting, he might as well take it for himself. But you wouldn’t say that to him, could ruin the mood. “I’m plenty fine here.”

“Good we are here.” He took his fingers and lifted your chin upwards; you were met with a vast sea of glowing stars, because of the pollution in Gotham; you never saw this many. You had never felt so loved in your life, so validated, so cared for. You started shedding tears and hugging into his chest, “Shit-oh sorry I didn’t realise this would-I’m so sorry-“ Jon said scrambling to rub your back and pepper your forehead with kisses to repay you. “No, Jon, happy tears I promise.” You say softly and his calms and he places his chin on the top of your head, “This is why you’re the only person I’ve ever let into my heart in this sort of way..” You utter and Jon has to hold back some tears of his own, “Thank you.” You move in closer and grab his face to kiss him, and it seems like it lasts forever before you both pulled away gasping for breath.

“I think I-“ you scramble to get your words together, feeling everything so intensely, until your finally get it together. “I love you so much Jon Kent.”

“I love you.” You finish staring directly into his eyes, “I love you too.” He says, matching your gaze. “I love you so much more.”

“So much..”

Tag list: @waterwyne @venusmorning @planetlotus @sugarrush-blush @skepvids @dreaming-of-the-reality @otterluver05 @godoreo22 @earth-to-name @krys0210 @jisnothere

It wouldn’t let me tag a few people so please check your settings if you asked to be a tagged and weren’t! (Sorry for the inconvenience)

Thank you for all the lovely support <3 it’s definitely helped me finish this part off and it’s very appreciated. 💕

Next Part: Robin Vs Batgirl (yes it’s getting dramatic in this one.)

[burst-of-iridescent]

well since i can already tell that we’re all going to be subjected to the same old tired mai & mai.ko discourse for the foreseeable future, let’s get it clear right now that the atla comics have never been, and will never be acceptable mediums of character development, and here’s why:

1. the comics are given the benefit of hindsight, which impairs organic character growth.

it’s become extremely clear over the last few years that many of the comics are made as, or include, direct responses to criticisms of the original show — especially when it comes to katara, mai, and the canon pairings. aang didn’t ask katara for consent? look, he’s checking if he can kiss her! mai doesn’t care about fire nation imperialism? here, she’s an anti fascist! iroh was a creep to june? don’t worry, here he is apologising!

many of the things the characters do or say in the comics feel unnatural because they are not written as characters, but as mouthpieces for the creators to address fandom complaints from the original show.

“but that’s good, right? they’re trying to make it better!” i mean… sure? it still doesn’t change the fact that it’s damage control, and that no matter what stories span the middle, the arcs of these characters still begin and end with avatar: the last airbender, and the legend of korra, both of which are fixed and immutable. the comics cannot retroactively fix the issues of either show, because they’ve already been defined as the goalposts of the characters’ lives, and there is no way to undo that.

it’s like if you eat a meal that isn’t to your satisfaction, and maybe the chief makes you another dish, which is all well and good — but it doesn’t fix the fact that the original meal still sucked! sometimes, accepting criticism means accepting that there’s no way to go back and fix it but to do better next time, with the next story you wish to tell.

if the legend of korra didn’t exist, and the arcs of the characters were left open after atla, then maybe there would be for the room for the comics to function as character development if not for the fact that…

2. the comics are intended for a very different audience than the show.

it’s obvious that the audience for the original show vastly outnumbers the audience for the comics, likely by thousands, if not millions. this isn’t the mcu, where the installation of any atla property is vital to understanding the next, and so on. you can skip the comics and miss nothing whatsoever (and honestly your life would be far improved by doing so).

those who read the comics are likely only the real diehard fans of the show — and the creators know this, which is why we have the whole issue of point one above. but this difference in audience matters, because it reflects the significance of the story being told, and how important it is for the audience to know it. this is why, if the characters’ development and storylines in the comics truly, genuinely mattered, it would have been in the show already.

i’m not saying that the gaang wouldn’t have continued to grow and change post-atla, but generally stories exist as closed circuits, self-contained within themselves. when you end atla, you’re meant to believe that those arcs are finished. that’s the whole reason the comics deal mostly with fun silly adventures, or with quick, temporary conflicts instead of grand, overarching narratives, because they are not truly meant to function as a continuation of the story of atla, or its characters.

(if you ask me frankly, they’re meant to be nostalgia cash grabs, but that’s neither here nor there.)

creator intention matters with the atla comics (or any atla property, in fact), because creator intention was the subject of criticism for the original show in the first place. why must we rely on the comics or the cookbook or avatar legends to tell us that katara did things with her life outside of aang? why do we need to turn to something released nearly two decades after atla to find any evidence that mai denounced the fire nation’s imperialist indoctrination, when she’s romantically involved with one of the show’s most important characters? why are these stories relegated to a medium with far less reach, far too late?

the answer is that the writers didn’t find those stories to be originally worth telling, and that is the real problem fans have been pointing out since 2008.

so, tldr:

[hardgum]

Alright, I'm gonna rant one last time and repost this because it actually explains most of my issues with season 2. This is what I mean when I say that stuff gets too weird and suddenly anything is possible.

On one side you have magic, weapons, the environment, I don't know what to call it. This is important, because it sets the stakes. If that stuff doesn't get established to a point where I can roughly guess how powerful things are and how they can be used, then anything is possible. Viktor could've sent a gigantic skybeam down on Piltover and Mel could've ridden a magical unicorn to fly up and stop him and it would've been reasonable within the given lor because there wasn't any. An example that done better was actually Ekko's Z-Drive. It can rewind four seconds, nothing more, nothing less. There's no weird stuff where e.g. Ekko suddenly appears twice, and you're never left wondering "Why didn't he just go back further?" Because the boundaries were clear.

On the other side you have character motivation. This is what lets me connect to a character. This has been missing on so many parts! Just like the other post mentions, in season 1 even the most minor character like Huck had his motivation established. If he helps Vi first, why does he betray her later? Because he's shown to be weak and timid and shimmer makes him strong, so he's addicted to it! Now compare that to Maddie's betrayal. Maddie did it because she was... Evil? Heartless? I guess? Apparently she was just a tool for Ambessa just as she was a tool for the story.

Talking about Ambessa: What even was her goal? Weaponization of Hextech to use it against the Black Rose I suppose? She clearly wanted to protect Mel, but when Mel disappeared we didn't even get to see Ambessa's reaction! Ambessa generally felt like she was just there to cause conflict, like she just wanted to murder everyone in her way to take over Piltover... and then what? Fight the Black Rose? Who are they even? Honestly, up until the end I wasn't sure if they're actually bad, or just a resistance group that has resorted to dark magic and deception to take down Noxian warlords! It's still unclear actually...

Honestly, I liked act2 mostly for reuniting Vi, Jinx and Vander, and even that happened too quickly, but it still worked for me because of the build-up (you kow, for character motivation) in season 1. Isha also has no character, but at least we got to see Jinx connect with her like a sister.

And then there's Ekko, who's an interesting case. I didn't get disconnected from him, HE got disconnected from the plot! I understood his character for ep7, but when her returned in ep9 he was suddenly able to connect with Jinx despite not having seen her since their fight on the bridge only because he met an entirely different version of her that he liked in the almost perfect universe? And it's not even properly shown?! I get that it would move him to give Jinx another chance, but this made it seem like he suddenly understood her, even though AU!Powder has nothing to do with her. He just reappeared after months of being gone, he has no idea what happened and what state she's in! And then he says one proper line and it just cuts away.

Many people praised season 1 for often going the "Show, don't tell"-route, but season 2 was neither show nor tell...

Anyway, like I said, last rant to put my frustration into words, I'm tired...

what made season 1 so stunningly good was that every scene could be explained with stuff that happened on screen.

Why did Vi know where to find Vander after Silco took him? well of course because of Ekko who was established in the first few minutes of the first episode to be the character to be on look out.

Why did Powder follow the others to the abandoned building? why because she wanted to feel useful, she wanted for her stuff to work and she wanted to help. She wanted to not be the Jinx. This was all established through character moments that were natural and normal human interactions.

Why did Mel invest in Jayce? Why because first of all her own mother sent her away so seeing Jayce's mother stand up for her son must've hit her. And we see her talking about having to find new investments. Of course she would. He sounds interesting enough. Why not try it? If it doesn't work banishment is still on the table.

Why did Viktor help Jayce? Because he didn't want to stand in Heimerdingers shadow as just an assistant anymore. He was sick and knew the problems of the undercity first hand, he wanted to help. Of course he would, if there was a chance hextech could do it.

Why did Marcus continue to help Silco even after Graysons death? Why, because of his daughter or course. He could be threatened, molded and used. He wanted to establish big things, and was hasty in his youth, and we see 1. Silco exploit that and 2. Marcus regret that.

Why did a shimmer induced Huck help Caitlyn out? Why because as early as the very first episode in Vanders first speaking scene he gets help from Vander and well why wouldn't he then show that help for Vi, knowing he can?

literally every scene makes sense, everything can be explained with stuff that we SEE in the show. There isn't anything "off screen" or just not there.

Now tell me

Why did Caitlyn suddenly switch sides again in season 2 act 2? Why and how did Mel know that her brother wasn't actually her brother? Why did she know how to solve the puzzle? Why is Viktor suddenly floating in the universe? Why does Ambessa just ignore her daughter being abscent outside of that one throw away line? Why do Maddie, Loris and Isha exist? Every chatacter existed for a reason that wasn't just Plot even if they sometimes were just for Plot in season 1. But Maddie, Loris and even ISHA for gods sake, really are just Plot. Isha not as much as Maddie and Loris and thank god for that but still, her character, while I still hope it isn't true, existed to die and further Jinx's pain.

it's just so ugh

Edit: A lot (and I mean a LOT) of people have told me how Kino did make sense and I agree with that now. Though I stand firm with my opinion that we should've gotten to know him before so we could have figured it out even easier with Mel, there were actually signs I didn't notice myself before. Thank's for that.

Plus I will not back down on the fact that Mel just knowing the solution to the puzzle "makes sense cause sHe WaS ShOwn TO Be gOoD WiTh PuZZLes" is stupid. Yes, I know she is smart and good with that. But that's like a whole different thing. It's such a leap I don't know how some of you don't see it.

[captaincrusher]

A thought on a queer Star Trek timeline

Watching Star Trek from the original series to modern times is to fast forward through the evolution of queer rights through the 20th and early 21st century.

In the original series queerness must be imagined in the close relationship between Kirk and Spock. We can only see ourselves in what we hope and dream about for the future. We get Amok Time.

In the 80's queer people start to materialize in the background. TNG takes tentative steps towards telling our stories, still cloaked in the allegory. We get Outcast.

In the 90's Ds9 gives us Rejoined. Still cloaked in allegory, but the lines get sharper, the mist starts to lift. A character has a monologue about how two people that love each other should be able to be together. Hidden winks has turned into words.

Voyager, while a good show in other respects, does not give us a single crumb of queerness. Aside from the relationships we ourselves imagine.

In the 2000's we are on the cusp of actually having queer people on screen. Enterprise tries to tell stories of gender (Cogenitor) and the AIDS crisis (Stigma), two episodes that are still filtered through a limited understanding of both. When Enterprise ends in 2005 and this Star Trek era ends with it, queer representation in film and tv is still scarce.

The AOS era instead is where queer people, for the first time, stepped out of subtext. Sulu is married to a man - a nod to George Takei, the original series actor. Star Trek Beyond comes out in 2016, the year after same sex marriage is legalized in the US.

It isn't until 2017 that a Star Trek show officially, without subtext or allegory, gets queer characters, when Paul Stamets and Hugh Culber are married on Discovery. Discovery also adds further queer characters down the line, finally saying that yes - queer humans do exist in the future.

I know you all will have opinions on what is queer or not. But when tracking the evolution of queer representation it's important to separate subtext from text and to separate when something is allegoric verses not.

I interpret Jadzia Dax as queer - but she is not human. She is an alien wrapped inside a gender non confirming shroud of gray areas. That is the strength of her character - that it allows the writers to explore themes that otherwise would have been taboo. But the fact that they could only pursue queer storylines with non human characters tells you something about the times.

it really feels like Star Trek was late to the party with queer representation. I think there's multiple reasons for that. One is that when Enterprise was created, it still carried the legacy of shows created in the 80's and 90's. Enterprise itself is also literally a prequel - there seemed to be little desire to be bold and innovative.

Timing is I think the main reason why Star Trek trailed behind. Between Enterprise ending in 2005 and Star Trek Discovery starting in 2017 there's a whole era of representation. If Enterprise had dared make an actual queer character, like Malcolm Reed, it would have been just ahead of the wave of representation that started popping up in the late 00's - but instead it closed on a similar note as DS9 did 10 years earlier.

Feel free to add your favorite queer episodes. There are some "official" queer episodes - but there's a bunch more that meant a lot for us as queer people, for one reason or another.

[officialmissamericana]

SWEET NOTHING | OP81

summary: from the outside, it looks like your life is wonderful. you’re dating famous racecar driver oscar piastri, and you’re a bestselling author. yet all that glitters is not gold, and after months of feeling disregarded, you finally decide to speak up.

warnings: angst, swearing

note: this will be a two-part story. hoping to finish it by next week, but i’ll be back at uni studying for my exams 😕

♡ story starts here!

— june, 2026 𖡡 melbourne, australia —

(y/n’s perspective)

It was already half-past four, and Oscar still hadn’t arrived at the café. You’d agreed on a three-thirty meeting time, a time that was later that wouldn’t impede on both of your busy schedules. Oscar was in the middle of his third Formula One season, dominating yet again in his flashy papaya McLaren car, having won two races and ending up on five podiums only ten Grand Prixs into the season. Meanwhile, you were at home in Australia, working on your next big novel, and you were thinking about making it Formula One-inspired due to your background knowledge of it.

You tapped your fingers on the cool porcelain mug, the clinking sound vibrating through the air. Yet again, you took a backwards glance at the door, hoping Oscar would walk through. He’d give you a small peck on the forehead — he was never one for PDA — and slide onto the chair beside you, murmuring his apologies. And then it would be time to break the news, something you’d been holding in your chest for so long, it felt like you’d explode if you kept it in any longer.

You checked your watch, sighing when it displayed 4:32 on its glossy surface. You debated on calling Oscar, but you knew it would just go straight to voicemail. Even being his girlfriend of almost three and a half years didn’t grant you immediate access to Oscar.

Finally, the bell hanging above the entrance tinkled, announcing somebody’s arrival. It was Oscar.

“Hey,” he said, his cheeks flushing from the way you looked at him. “Sorry I’m late. Work, um, held me back.” He pulled the chair back and sat down, weaving his fingers together.

“It’s fine,” you responded coldly, obviously making it sound like everything wasn’t fine. Because it wasn’t.

“So…” Oscar tilted his head to the side. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

It had been almost four weeks since Oscar had come home at a decent hour. Two months since you had gone on a proper date, not eating Chinese takeout at home and watching Netflix, but going to a museum or somewhere, anywhere, outside of any of the apartments you two shared. Almost three months since he invited you to attend a Grand Prix — not that you could have afforded the time away from writing your novel, but it was the effort and thought that mattered.

“Oscar…” you trailed off, suddenly at a loss for words. You’d been planning this for weeks, staring at your reflection in the mirror and reciting the words that would effectively end the continuation of the past three years of your life.

His eyebrows furrowed. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

You inhaled, sucking in a deep breath, before saying, “I want to break up with you.”

The cool mask of indifference shattered once those words were uttered. Shock fizzled on Oscar’s beautiful face, his brown eyes wide and taken aback. “Y/N, you don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do. We’ve not spent time together in ages, and I have been feeling this way for a long while. I was hoping that you would notice my distance, notice that something was wrong. I was tolerating your mediocrity, when once you would have burned the world down for me just to prove your love. Now I’m lucky to get a few words each day, and I know I’m entitled to more than that.” Your voice broke and you paused, collecting yourself. “I’m tired of being second. You’ve relegated me to a backseat in your life, claiming that your career is more important, but what that really means is that I have to be OK with the lack of effort you put in because there’s an ‘excuse’ for it.”

Oscar shook his head. “I never said you were less important. You mean the world to me, Y/N. How could you not think that?”

“Because actions speak louder than words, and lately I haven’t seen much of either.” You said, pursing your lips, valiantly fighting to stop tears from falling down your face.

He moved his hand across the table and you noticed it was shaking slightly. He was afraid to lose you. But it was because he knew you were complacent, and that no other self-respecting woman would be. By losing you, he would no longer have a deferential girlfriend who let him get away with all his offenses.

You positioned yourself away from him. “I’m sorry that this is how it has to end, but I refuse to stay silent any longer.”

“Y/N… I can’t believe this.” Oscar shook his head again. “I gave you everything I could. You knew that sacrifices would have to be made, but suddenly it’s unbearable? I’ve spent three years showing you how much you mean to me. Yet it’s not enough?”

You twisted your lips, swallowing roughly. This was so much harder than you thought it would be. “Maybe at one point in time, your scraps of affection were enough, but it’s not anymore.” You stood up abruptly, unable to take this any longer. “I’m leaving.”

“Just like that?” Oscar retorted incredulously.

You nodded. “I’ll gather my belongings from our apartment. I’ve already asked my friend if I can stay at her house for a bit until I figure my situation out. But once I leave this café, we’re over.”

Oscar’s mouth dropped open. “You can’t be serious, Y/N. I love you.”

“No,” you interrupted, cutting him off before he could say anything else. “You just love the idea of me.”

With that, you turned around and left the café, your heart pounding rapidly. You couldn’t believe it was over. Months of pent-up frustration, tension… all of it was finally released.

“Wait!”

Oscar’s familiar voice prickled the back of your neck. Fuck, he was following you, trying to get you to reconsider. You quickened your pace, eager to get to your Uber before he could intercept you.

An arm snaked around yours, pulling you back and making you halt. Heat crept up on the spot where you were touching. You hated how you still had a physical reaction to Oscar, even after how poorly he treated you.

“Y/N, please. Listen to me,” he begged. You refused to look at him because you knew everything you’d work for would fall down like a house of cards. “Please. Let’s talk this out at home, OK? We’ll figure this out. I can’t lose you.”

“No,” you said firmly. “We’re done and there’s nothing you can do to change that. I’m tired of letting you walk all over me. I’m not your toy to bring out and play with, then put back into the closet whenever you see fit.”

Oscar scoffed. “You’re not a toy. I’ve never said you were one.”

“It was a metaphor,” you shot back, anger flooding your veins and making you curl your fists. “Leave me alone, Oscar. Stop following me.”

“I have every right to follow my girlfriend when she’s attempting to destroy something I’ve been working on for almost four years!” Oscar shouted, raising his voice. He wasn’t a loud person, so the increase in volume made you jolt backwards.

A woman walking by gave you two a sour look, but you ignored her. “If you cared, you would have done something earlier. Our relationship is dead and gone. There’s no pulse for you to check, because the heart of our relationship stopped beating. A long, long time ago,” you exclaimed.

“I’m sorry that I haven’t been as attentive as usual, but you know that a championship and constructor’s is on the line.” He reasoned, putting his hands up in the air in mock surrender.

You scowled. “And that’s top priority. Look, I know everything that I need to. Everything that comes out of your mouth is only fueling the fire of my frustration and anger towards you. Please stop and leave me the fuck alone.”

“I refuse to, because I love you.”

You rolled your eyes. It was the same line, over and over. You wouldn’t buy it. You had dignity, and you wouldn’t sell it to anyone. “I don’t love you anymore. So please, for the love of God, just let me go.”

Oscar froze. “Please don’t say that, Y/N.”

“It’s the truth,” you confirmed. Guilt swarmed your gut at his expression, but you pushed it back. “Goodbye, Oscar.”

“No, no, no. I’m not saying goodbye.” When you started walking, he followed you, tugging on your arm to get you to stop.

“Leave me alone, Oscar!” You yelled, your composure finally breaking. Tears fell down your face like a waterfall, and all the sorrow you suppressed came towering over you as if it were a tidal wave. “Leave. Me. Alone!”

A few more passersby glanced over at you, noticing the quarrel. No one intercepted, but a teenager wearing a Red Bull jersey pulled out their phone and started recording, obviously recognizing Oscar.

“Y/N, please,” he whined. “One more chance. Please.”

“No. Stop making a scene,” you demanded furiously.

“I’ll get even louder if that’s what it takes for you to come back to me. I need you,” he said. “I need us.”

“The only thing you need is another shiny trophy in your showcase, and I’m not going to be that.” You avoided his imploring gaze. “Please respect my boundaries and leave me alone. You owe me that.”

Oscar hesitated, a war raging on behind those stunning amber eyes of his, until he eventually surrendered. “Fine. If this is what you want.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, relief swallowing you whole.

“I’ll see you around, then?” he asked, stepping into your line of view and forcing you to look at him. His cheeks were flushed, his eyebrows knitted in concern. His brown hair, the same curls you loved tugging playfully, was blowing in the soft wind.

You wanted to commit him to memory. Leave Oscar in the past.

“Maybe. Goodbye, Oscar.” You gave him a wan smile, wiping away your tears and urging yourself to stay strong.

Maybe in another universe you would have cared more about your loved one that believed you were a god amongst mortals than a multimillion dollar car that drove in circles.

Maybe in another universe our bond would have been nurtured and cultivated instead of smothered and ignored.

Maybe in another universe I still would be yours, Oscar.

the end!

note: help… i’m crying. 🥲 i promise pt.2 is on the way soon! hope you all enjoyed reading that, and sorry if there were any tears. <3

[hailturinturambar]

Two Sides of the Same Coin: Sauron and Adar's Relationship

This analysis is not romantic or emotional in nature following human standards. But I treat this analysis as an overview of the relationship between two immortal beings who spent centuries at war.

So we start at the beginning. When Arda was created and Eru Ilúvatar allowed the Valar to enter the world, accompanied by immortal beings of lesser power.

In the first season, Galadriel begins her prologue by stating that not everything in the beginning is bad. Not even Mairon (later Sauron) was. He began in Arda as a Maia of the Valar Aulë. One of the most powerful and renowned Maia. Something that clearly attracted the interest of Melkor, Morgoth.

Betraying the Valar, Mairon accompanies Melkor on his dark path to rule Arda. His knowledge gained from Aulë proves to be of great value and regret in the future. And Sauron served his new master masterfully.

So we come to the main point, where does Adar fit into the story? We know from the books that the Orcs were created in different contexts, the forms vary according to the book. In some, the Orcs were elves corrupted by Morgoth, in others he just created them/or they already existed, but we also find reports that the Orcs are a mockery of the elves, which Morgoth hates more than anything.

Adar still possesses elven traits, even if his appearance is distorted. So, in my view, Adar is possibly one of the elves of Beleriand captured and damaged according to Morgoth's designs.

But there had to be something special about Adar. He was of a higher rank than the Orcs, yet lower than Sauron. Who is Adar among Morgoth's followers? Perhaps an ally of Sauron, an aide or captain of Orcs, a spy of great value, perhaps.

Without Morgoth, someone needs to take control, and that person could only be Sauron. And for some reason, he trusts Adar enough to keep him by his side. Sauron has lost yet another master and is alone in the world, he only has the Orcs by his side, and of course, Adar.

On a twisted level, I would say, but in the prologue of the second season we see a certain camaraderie between Sauron and Adar. Perhaps, without Morgoth, Sauron saw himself with the new Melkor and Adar as a new version of himself.

When the first Orc attacks, it seemed to me that Adar hesitated, as if an intrinsic part of him, corrupted by centuries, was ready to protect Sauron, with whom he had lived for so long, even if that was not his plan.

But to Adar, his children are more important than Sauron. And he knows that Sauron will destroy his children if he has power in his hands. He knows that deep down, Sauron is as cruel as Morgoth and that the Orcs do not matter to him. Just small pieces in the great game.

This is the point of no return between Sauron and Adar. I wonder, when the Orcs started attacking Sauron and Sauron killed so many of them in self-defense, why didn't Adar fight back?

Why did Adar, the Father of so many Orcs, who suffered at the hands of Morgoth and Sauron, not attack his oppressor? Was he simply delivering vengeance and justice into the hands of his children, or was he ultimately not capable of ending Sauron forever? Yes, he struck him with Morgoth's crown, but would he be able to destroy Sauron forever?

Sauron looks at Adar as the crown hits him, and you can see the betrayal in his eyes. He certainly did not expect Adar to hurt him, to turn against him.

Centuries have passed since Sauron's death, and he has spent many long years struggling to regain his new form, while Adar has increased his influence and power among the Orcs.

Sauron has returned and now he is Halbrand. Vengeance emanates from him and he needs to reclaim his kingdom and everything he lost to Adar's betrayal. So he is on the ship with the mortals, to a better place. And we wonder if this could be the beginning of his redemption.

I still think a lot about the mortal's words "What haunts you so?"

Yes, Sauron, what haunts you? Is it the loss of your power? He is alone in the world again, weaker after his recovery, stripped of his power and his servants, forced to start over. Or is he haunted by Adar's betrayal that took everything from him? Like a stab in the back from a long-lost friend.

In drifting with Galadriel, Halbrand talks about the Orcs taking everything from him. We know he's the Great Deceiver, but he's not genuinely lying to her at this point.

In his conception, the Orcs, his servants, betrayed him and took everything from him, but it is not as Galadriel thinks and he is satisfied with that. He needs to regain his lost kingdom, so he lets her believe that he has lost his mortal kingdom to the Orcs.

Galadriel has deep wounds caused by Morgoth, Sauron and the Orcs, unconsciously she takes Halbrand's side and embraces his suffering. The meaning is the same, Sauron/Halbrand have been betrayed, lost everything and are alone.

Galadriel understands him and suffers for him, but not for who he really is. And he knows it. Sauron has learned that no one will stand by him, not knowing who he really is. So, he is who Galadriel thinks he is, if it means gaining her help and sympathy.

Our "brothers in Morgoth" are now going their separate ways.

In Númenor, Galadriel insists that Halbrand reclaim his throne. Whether it is a deception, a strategy, or not, Sauron insists that it is best not to return. Better for everyone, right? For Middle-earth, for the Orcs, for Adar, even for Galadriel.

The flame of vengeance still burns in Sauron and Galadriel manages to conquer his will. "Because I cannot stop." These are Galadriel's words to Halbrand. But it is a very intimate question, perhaps a reflection of Sauron's inner self and vulnerability.

He has lost everything, why does he continue to fight? Because just like Galadriel, he cannot stop. He would never be able to find redemption and I believe this phrase defines it well.

Let's now analyze Middle-earth. Arondir is captive and talking to Adar. Adar speaks of "lies so deep," lies that will never be cleared up until the world is remade by the gods. And even though he claims he is not yet a god, he still holds the gods in some regard, perhaps in his still elven part.

Sauron and Adar share similar worldviews, even if they don't agree. Sauron wants to heal Middle-earth, either by ruling or saving it, but he believes that his path is the right one and that light will come through the darkness, as Galadriel told him. I think he has thought deeply about this.

It is similar with Adar. He believes that he can find a safe place in Middle-earth for his children, away from Sauron and his destruction, away from the humans who have never accepted them. In any case, Adar and Sauron's vision of healing and helping is just as corrupt. Always seeking a form of evil in order to achieve good.

“Do you remember me?” Sauron, I don't think you're capable of forgetting.

Together in Middle-earth, we have Sauron and Adar fighting on opposing sides. As he confessed to Galadriel, he is not fighting for humans against the Orcs, but fighting against his own enemies.

He thought about this a lot. Did Sauron expect recognition? Even after centuries and a new beautiful form, did he hope that deep down, Adar would recognize who he was facing?

Adar's words don't really affect me that much. He believed Halbrand was mortal, so it's only natural that he believed his revenge would be completely mortal. A wife or children are usually what motivates many men to go to war. But he doesn't realize that he's dealing with the only person who trusted him and who has been betrayed by him.

Sauron wants to kill Adar, and it takes a lot of control and calm in his plan to not take the next step. Which was good, obviously, because it convinced Galadriel.

Galadriel also believes in Adar's beliefs, trusting that Halbrand is a mortal who lost his loved ones to the Orcs, like her. Her pity for Halbrand also represents how she sees herself.

Did Sauron fear that Adar would know the truth? I don't think so. He must have noticed that he was not recognized. So Adar is focused solely on Galadriel. Halbrand has been forgotten. Their paths are now long separated. Sauron leaves for Eregion after the attacks of Adar and his sons.

Their paths separate once more. The elves know the truth about Sauron, though not all. But his deception remains. The people of Middle-earth still believe in the lost king. But does Adar really believe?

In Númenor, when Halbrand sends Galadriel to find another head to crown, when she insists that she could place that crown there herself. Did Sauron remember Adar's betrayal? Maybe. He reacted extremely angrily. Or was it a lie?

In the second season we glimpse an interesting twist. Sauron, once so powerful and feared alongside Morgoth, then a revered mortal king, has now been stripped of everything, again by Adar. And Adar is now the king of Mordor. Something Sauron has not achieved.

Does Sauron envy Adar's relationship with the Orcs? Sauron has gone through many changes in his life. From a kind master in Valinor, to a tyrannical and cruel master in Middle-earth. And Adar has managed to have servants who are not servants, but sons who follow him and will stand by his side.

Adar tells of his transformation at the hands of Morgoth, of his torment and pain. Then there is Sauron, his light in the darkness, a salvation after so much pain. Why did Sauron cry? Was it a deception? Or a reminder of his own sufferings at the hands of a god?

Waldreg says that pain must be something Halbrand enjoys. And Annatar confesses to Celebrimbor that sometimes pain was a reward. Was that the reason for her tears?

In different ways, Sauron and Adar suffered at the hands of Morgoth. Like sons suffering at the hands of a tyrannical father, one is rewarded and the other destroyed. But in the end, both know only suffering.

If Adar suspected Halbrand, why did he let him go? Like centuries ago, when his Orcs killed Sauron, did he stand still out of fear or because he was unable to face Sauron? Not out of fear, but because of their long history together.

Love and hate do indeed go together.

By fate or the Valar, Sauron and Adar are doomed to fight each other. Sauron departs as Halbrand and enters at the calm and peacefull Eregion. It is time to begin his deception and obtain what he desires most in the world, The Rings of Power.

While Sauron pursues his goal of creating the rings and dominating Middle-earth, he leaves Adar in the background. He has not forgotten him and will still destroy his forces, but now his attention requires elsewhere.

In this time, Adar and his Orcs grow stronger and seek enemies against Sauron. Galadriel is once again entangled in the story of these two long-time enemies.

I believe that Adar was sincere in his words. He wants to destroy Sauron and is willing to ally himself with the elves. But Adar is very powerful, he has many followers. He does not need the elves and their help, he needs The Rings of Power. With the ring, he would be able to face Sauron.

Why does he need Galadriel? Perhaps because, like her, he understands the emptiness that Sauron's departure leaves, the grayness that consumes everything until only he and his absence remain. Is Adar capable of destroying Sauron and never getting rid of the grayness? Maybe yes, maybe no. But he believes that with Galadriel by his side, he will be able to.

With the Siege of Eregion, Sauron loses his temper and his plan is almost discovered. There is Adar again, hindering his glory. But he is patient, he is intelligent. He has spent centuries thinking about his revenge, planning his sovereignty over all beings in Middle-earth, this time, Adar will not be his downfall.

Adar fighting the elves was very beneficial to Sauron. Adar thinned the armies, separated the elves and murdered them. Sauron's path is almost clear. He is like a king of the world, sitting on his throne watching his enemies fight. Like an emperor in an arena, waiting for everyone to destroy each other for his glory and amusement.

It was hilarious, I must say, see Adar to believe he was winning. That he was being wiser and more intelligent than the elves. To Adar, the elves had fallen into a trap. But wasn't it the other way around?

"Never make war in anger."

Honestly, Adar, is this about you or Elrond? Because Sauron got what he wanted and Adar fell for his deception.

Here the curtain closes and the play is at an end. Eregion has fallen and Sauron is still free. The Great Deceiver returns for his final revenge, for now, of course. Adar has Galadriel's ring. And he looks so tired. Fighting Sauron for centuries has finally defeated him, he has given up. He wants to live in peace with his children, far from Sauron and his power.

Adar spent centuries with his children, but he seems to me a very lonely man. He had children and nothing else. The gray remained there. Perhaps, in some twisted and painful way, he missed Sauron's company. Once, many centuries ago, they had served the same master and were relatively equal.

"They are not children any more."

That sounded terribly cruel. That was Sauron’s goal, wasn’t it? When he says those words to Adar on his deathbed, Sauron is removing the last shred of joy from Adar. Decimating the goodness and innocence that Adar had tried to instill in his children. Sauron took away from Adar the last thing he cared about. This was his ultimate betrayal. An eye for an eye, you might say.

Did Adar think of Mairon as he died? How in the Elder Days, Marion was there to be the cure when Morgoth was the disease? How he offered him wine and helped him in his own sick and cruel way. Did he think of his beautiful face?

Or did he think of the beautiful face of Annatar, who is Halbrand, who is Sauron, who is Mairon, as he killed him and took his revenge? Their deaths were similar and I am sure it was no accident.

May the Valar have pity on them, because my analysis does not. Sauron and Adar are like characters in a Greek tragedy. Condemned to solitude and suffering until the end of days.

Last words: English is not my first language and it is quite tiring to write a long text in my language and then have to translate it into English, paying attention to mistakes and spelling. But I do it so that more people can read it and appreciate it.

I posted this analysis after the hate I received, for all the people who voted for the suggestion for the next analysis, and for all those who supported me when I vented. To those who follow me and are happy with my writing, this long text is for you.

[rambles-on-dragon-age]

Solas also continually operates in small cells that can't be traced back to him and sent the freed slaves about their business. Why would he keep his slave army wrapped around himself at all times. That doesn't make sense. There's a banter where he explains to Sera how he works, after all. They're either freed and doing what they want or acting as his spies; we learned that much during Trespasser. He's not going to make them work for him and frankly he probably started working more and more alone and just using the information the spies give him. They still work for him in the Missing Collection and I think mentioned in Tevinter Nights that's part of how he's keeping tabs on the Inquisitor and friends. He sees some stuff in dreams but that's not the extent of everything he knows and how much stuff he's keeping track of. The point of them being spies is moot if you know who and where they are after all. :)

Now you're confusing "bad writing" for "suspension of belief so the story can continue" and "quality of life is important to move the game narrative forward". The Blight changing and acting different and being a tool of the Evanuris was a major plot point; they can't have characters shying away from it "for the realisms lol"

The Wardens say, repeatedly, that everyone is infected at different rates. Even if Rook & Co got "just a scratch" and were infected, they could reasonably survive that infection for weeks/months before Antoine and Evka went rogue and performed the Joining on them like they've been shown to do/offer to other people that are infected.

But that's not conducive to the story. Like @postcardsfromheapside said, the Inquisitor & Co mucked about in tons of red lyrium and yet never got infected nor affected. You know. Like basically everyone else was re: Cory's army and the people mining it. Would it have made story sense for the Quizzie and friends to fall to the lyrium before the end? No. So they aren't infected/affected by it.

Rook keeps fighting these huge dragons? Uh, yeah. Rook and Co. fights exactly ONE dragon that was blighted, realized they probably couldn't kill it and were lucky to hurt it, and then went out and hired a dragon killing specialist to help them with that dragon and its friend when it comes back. Quality of life team building won't lock you to needing Taash every time you fight a dragon, but they are considered side bosses for the most part that are completely optional.

As for Minrathous falling, yeah it's not the dragon that takes down the city. The Floating Attack Palace is focused on the dragon, it's the murderous nationalist death cult killing the leaders while they were distracted fighting the dragon, taking over the city, and routing out the Shadow Dragons and later the Threads as those are the people still standing against them. If Rook is distracting the dragon so the Murder Palace isn't focused on it, then the magisters could focus on the death cult knocking down their door instead. No one's invincible, especially when the Ventatori also have powerful blood mages. Their focus is split, they fall. Their focus not split, they could defend themselves.

And, again. Bellara acting hateful and distrustful would have been out of character for her. If you want a Mean Dalish Bellara instead of Sweet Veil Jumper Scientist Bellara, write one for yourself. She wasn't written badly, that scene was written exactly right for her character. You are trapped in the bubble with her, the only person that can take it down, and she knows it. You are in the palm of her hand. Also ? If you were going to kill her you could do so on sight. You'd still be trapped in fade bubble prison until you die one way or another. (And yeah, that look she gives you at first reeks of distrust until you tell her who sent you. :) You know her leader and didn't attack on sight. Not the behaviors of evil Tevinter mages or bad humans.)

You're looking at the previous games through years of nostalgia and with rose-colored glasses. All that "rich, cultural atmosphere" is similarly shallow in every single one of them if you don't take the time to delve into the extra content the game offers.

Frankly, it feels like 90% of our time is spent in fantasy Britain's mudhole because we've spent so much time in Ferelden and when we got to Kirkwall it's similarly shitty. There's even memes about how awful and dragging the Hinterlands is. That's not dense or rich, it's literally the same place over and over again. Are you confusing fantasy racism and oppression being rubbed into your face extensively for all that dense culture? Is that the dense culture you're missing? Is it the brief glimpses we get of the Deep Roads and Dalish elves? Is that the rich culture? (You know, the stuff we see again in Veilguard. We even get to explore TWO Dwarven areas! Not counting the Fade one. There's so much cool shit to explore in Veilguard I'm never going to get tired of looking around for more details.)

This is the exact same world, the exact same setting, and we're being shown all these places we've only ever heard of. They're no longer just a name in passing, they're real places and we can see them and their architecture and the types of people that live there and how the weather is different and how the people are different and their different styles of dress and different foods and EVERYTHING. It's that environmental storytelling thing the game does very well and it's SO COOL. The maps had to be more compact but they're absolutely jam packed with puzzles, people, visuals, codex entries, etc... You're calling it shallow because what, they didn't add 500 codex entries from past games rehashing the same exact things we've already done three times before? We've been there, done that, learned it, we're doing something new now!

I thought you missed the context and content in the game but I'm steadily realizing that maybe you just flagrantly ran past it at full speed with your fingers in your ears and screaming because you think hating on this game is cool at this point in time. Gods forbid you take anything from this game at all besides regurgitating the same tired complaints that showed you approached this game hating it and didn't bother giving it a chance because "It's not like the other games!!"

a really cool part about dragon age veilguard is the first scene where you meet bellara, especially if you're a shadowdragon mage and you have neve with you

so to set the scene: bellara, the dalish elf who's devoted her life to the conservation, discovery and protection of her people's lost and ancient history, meets two strangers, two tevinter mages, in sacred arlathan. They tell her, hey your gods are back in the world but also they suck and we gotta kill them, and instead of telling them "fuck off you vile enslaving shem, you defile this land with your presence" like most normal dalish, not only does she instantly believe them that her gods are bad for some reason, they're back among the people and need to be stopped, she also happily starts telling them all kinds of secrets and valuable knowledge about ancient elven magic and is even so kind to, without question, take them on a grand tour of this very historically important and sacred ruin in arlathan to find a truly priceless artifact, a one of a kind archive of ancient elven knowledge thought lost forever, because really, what could these unknown tevinter mages possible want with that!

...

are these writers smoking crack?? is that it? theyre smoking crack??

[mormshaw]

I HAVE to address this MHA leak. This is getting out of hand. I think you guys may actually like this chapter if you pause and take a deep breath.

First, I rarely post about this kind of thing as I hate getting caught up in fandom drama- very few things take the enjoyment out of something quicker than people being pissy to each other (and to creators) because something didn’t go how you imagine.

BUT.

I need to say a few words in the defence of this new chapter, and I think there are a lot of really positive things going on that can be chalked up to character GROWTH and not character ASSASSINATION as everyone has been yelling about. Things that actually really tie up three really great characters in healthy ways, and in ways that also highlight the themes of moving forward and reaching out hands that the author has been pushing. I’m not going to address Ochaco’s growth here, which is also good, but I need to discuss the Baku-Deku stuff.

I’d like to preface all of the following with one important thing: when I read and watched MHA I never once incorporated SHIPPING into my enjoyment of these characters. It wasn’t the part of the text I was interested in. Did I think there were some cute moments between Izuku and Ochaco? Yep. But that’s about as far as it went for me. I also fully expected from day one that they would end up together because that’s how these kinds of stories in this genre go. I will also say that the character dynamics and growth between Izuku and Bakugo was something that is generally well done and a key aspect of why both those characters are so enjoyable for me-one of my favourite parts.

So, when I read these leaks, I actually found a bunch that I think tied up these characters really well.

I’m going to start with the big elephant-in-the-room one that everyone has been freaking out over. The: “Izuku would never turn down an offer to work in an agency with Bakugo that’s just so not him and he’s awful and I’ll never forgive him” thing that I just can’t…understand why people are angry about. This is a GOOD thing.

One of the things I actually sort of critical about in the INITIAL ending was that Izuku seemed like he still wasn’t putting himself first. One of the things that especially Bakugo KNEW to be the case about Izuku was he “never thinks of himself” and how self-destructive that was. We saw it time and time again- he was always sacrificing things for other people: his health, his time, even his QUIRK were sacrificed for OTHERS. He never put his own self-interest FIRST. He grew in strength, he grew and matured as a HERO, but part of saving people means also knowing how to save yourself.

The initial epilogue had this air of ‘he’s sacrificed something and he’s incomplete due to that’. Others (Bakugo and class 1-A) stepped up to help him fill that hole with the suit, and that thematically worked, but there was still a gap there for Izuku’s growth. I think this chapter completes his arc in the best possible way. Izuku did something purely for himself. He LEARNED that last lesson he needed to learn. AND he did it by ALSO helping Bakugo learn a lesson too.

Bakugo offers, in sort of a round about way, for Izuku to join his agency as a sidekick. He’s turned down other sidekicks because they thought he was amazing and wanted to be in his shadow. He wanted a sidekick that would say they would ‘surpass’ him. For Bakugo that has always been what he admired (and sometimes resented) about Izuku- Izuku wasn’t afraid to say that he would push himself to be better than Bakugo, and in doing so they both made themselves stronger.

But I’d argue that this rivalry was an endless cycle for both of these characters- not an opportunity for them to change how they saw each other. Izuku would surpass Bakugo and Bakugo would work to surpass Izuku on and on for eternity. Bakugo even mentions this in the hospital- that he hoped they would get to compete with each other “for the rest of their lives”. BUT that would also mean they would NEVER be more than rivals to each other.

When Izuku turns down Bakugo’s offer to be his sidekick, Izuku ISN’T saying “no, I don’t value you or what you did for me with the suit”. He’s saying, “I know what you did for me and I’m thankful for you, but I have to make my own choices separate from you.” Izuku is NOT Bakugo’s sidekick, or vice versa. They are adults that should have their own separate goals and lives. And, in a way, he’s also telling Bakugo, “you are your OWN person. You don’t need ME to be stronger. Keep pushing yourself forward on your OWN terms.”

And that’s the thing about Bakugo- from day one his growth has been DEFINED by Izuku. He’s pushed himself forward almost entirely because of how he sees Izuku, as a rival and, in some cases, as someone who he has to constantly try to live up to. That isn’t particularly HEALTHY. Bakugo sacrificed his LIFE to “catch up to Izuku.” Like, great acknowledgement of Izuku’s ability and moving on from being a bully, but not a physically healthy thing to do. There were a couple things about the initial epilogue that made me a little edgy because while Bakugo grieved the loss of OFA almost more than Izuku did (which was growth, and interesting growth), then worked tirelessly to get Izuku the suit, he did it because he wanted Izuku to keep being his RIVAL.

When Izuku turned down the offer to be his sidekick, but in the same scene also says he can’t wait to work as a hero again with his friends and see Bakugo MORE OFTEN as a guest lecturer in his Hero classes (which like, I don’t see why people are pissed about since that’s literally one of the biggest fanfic ideas people have been writing about since chapter 430 dropped), it actually shows how much more GROWN UP these two ARE. Izuku is acknowledging Bakugo as not only an EQUAL (not someone to chase after), but also a FRIEND. Someone he looks forward to seeing and working with. In fact, Bakugo saying “see you” isn’t a goodbye. It’s a PROMISE.

The panels of Izuku walking away are actual true character growth for BOTH of them. Izuku putting himself and his choices first, and Bakugo, for the first actual time in the ENTIRE SERIES feels like he doesn’t have to chase after Izuku. He can let themselves walk their own paths!

And, because the writing is actually better than you guys are giving it credit for, this choice actually does give them opportunity to still compete because Izuku will be on the chart now as an independent agent (because remember he’s not rejecting the suit and hero work, he’s incorporating hero work into a teaching career he’s ALSO grown to love and is good at). So now, as Izuku starts climbing the charts on his own (which he will because it’s Izuku we’re talking about), they can still push each other forward ANYWAY so like…that’s a GOOD thing. It’s like having your cake and eating it too, for BOTH of them.

Take off the shipper hats for a moment. And really LOOK at this scene. Is it kind of sad they won’t work together every day? Maybe. Does it mean they are growing apart and will never see each other? NO. They are closer than ever because now they are EQUALS and FRIENDS- neither is ahead of the other.

[youuuimeanmee]

I saw a comment where it says Ranma is goading Akane here, to distract her from letting go of his hands.

And I have some thoughts about it.

Tbh I don't think he's goading her here. He's just stupidly honest, because you can find some truths in his word.

Akane IS slow –slower than himself, at least. Ranma has seen this in their first spar.

It's a part of what makes her cute, but in a life-or-death situation (with the spin, the height, and the speed they're in) where a split second matters, he's worried she won't be able to react quick enough to make a safe landing.

He also knows how selfless she is, how she hates to be a burden, and how she'd help her friends in any way she can.

He's seen this when she helped him & accepted to be her friends' spare. That's one thing he likes/dislikes about her. He likes how caring she is, but he dislikes how she can be so reckless in the process.

In the battle against Ryoga, Akane was too focused on wanting to help him, she ignored the flying bandana that can slice her at any moment. When Akane accepted her friends' request to be their stand-in, he's worried she accepted it so quick without even asking, what sort of person Kodachi is –who's able to beat up girls to that extent. Again, Ranma knew how straightforward Akane's fighting style is, from their first spar. She's fair and honorable, and he loves that about her, but would she be able to handle Kodachi, whom he's seen won't even hesitate to torture helpless ordinary girls?

Anyway, back to the topic. Ranma can be brutally honest, he came off like a jerk, even though that is not his intention. The most stark example (and could be an (un)intentional parallel) is when he chosed Nabiki to save, instead of Akane.

They fell from the 2nd floor balcony, but it was just a normal fall; no crazy shenanigan, no immediate danger there. In condition like that, Ranma trusts Akane she'd be able to land safely (and she did! kinda). Meanwhile, Nabiki has 0 martial art experience, she doesn't know how to land safely. That's why he chosed to save Nabiki. Too bad he lacks the tack to say it in nicer way. He failed to convey how much he trust Akane's ability, he even insulted her unknowingly, so he came off as a dismissive, uncaring jerk.

Wanting to help a person is one thing, but endangering yourself in the process is another. For Ranma, having a good sentiment is not enough. It's also important to have a holistic understanding of your surrounding to calculate the best action to get optimal result. As much as the truth hurts, that's one of Akane's flaw; when she's panicked, blinded by her desire to help people, she can be near-sighted in the situation she's facing.

An example; Akane was too quick to jump off to save Ranma, forgetting the fact that she can't even swim. That was hella reckless of her. Ranma decided that the best action to finally end the battle quickly was to use his Cat-Fist, by using Shampoo. He was really mean when he say the harsh truth, though. Akane was able to read his mind, only after she snapped out of her emotion and see things objectively.

(tbh Ranma can be really impulsive he'd ignore his surroundings too; at times like that, Akane will be the one who keep him in check, and that's what makes their dynamic so good, but that's another story for later.)

On related topic, let's also talk about how MAPPA changes Ranma and Akane's fall.

In the manga, Ranma was focusing on the wall as their trajectory; that's why his split-second decision was to pull Akane away from the wall and let himself take the hit. He (or Rumiko) was forgetting the fact that with the speed they're in, the hard ice can also hurt Akane when they fall. MAPPA took Ranma's calculating ability a bit further. Not only did he pull Akane away from the wall, he also shielded her with his entire body to protect her from the hard ice rink.

What I'm trying to say, the way Ranma shielded Akane here is not purely out of instinct (of his love for Akane). Because, if it's pure instinct, he would be confused how his body moved that way; but he's not. He's fully aware of what he's doing. He knew the consequences, and he's willing to take it. He even demanded Akane to at least thank his effort, lol.

TLDR; Ranma said he can't leave a slowspoke like her alone to fend for herself, not just because he wants to goad her, but also because it's his honest feelings. Ranma loves Akane, he'd never let her be endangered, but he's also a calculative guy in the battle who can come off as a jerk with his brutally honest opinion. It also doesn't help that he's a teen boy who never learn how to be considerate when choosing his words, due to his upbringing with Genma. (Tbf, in an urgent matter, he's not in a position to be able to choose his words carefully either). He'd only let Akane help him & handle dangerous thing, ONLY after he calculates how much she's objectively able to handle the burden. In a world with whacky power scaling, that's one of the thing Ranma would do to protect Akane.

(just realized, my words kinda portray him as this cold insenstive guy, but isn't that part of why he's so prone to misunderstandings that makes akane wants to hit him? lol. that's also part of his learning process throughout the manga; to be a better person for akane.)

[fumifooms]

Marcille’s dungeon lord outfit is about being stuck in an inbetween

Kui combined a dress from her mother with a hat for children. It’s adulthood vs childhood. The dress is tallman fashion while the earmuffs are elven. It’s about emotions and maturity. Stability and instability. Growing & potential vs having grown & knowing yourself. It’s about her cultures and expectations and how can she possibly keep up with all of them, like the genius child she was portrayed as? It’s duality it’s conflict it’s being pulled in opposite directions. It’s about identity.

Marcille wants to have all the answers and wants them all already, she already acts like she has everything figured out more often than not, when it comes to ways to harvest mandrakes or her image of Falin and Chilchuck and orcs or her rigid sense of ethics, but the story does show that she had growing to do, plus her main goal beyond keeping her friends safe and near her is that pursuit of knowledge for what she doesn’t yet have answers for— rewriting the laws of life and death. But, as we’ve all been told before, death is simply a part of life and we have to make our peace with that one way or another. Like Marcille says in the last chapter, this was in large part the lesson and arc she’s had to go through. A lesson that Marcille’s mother has learned herself, one that she has accepted and tried to pass on to her daughter, which didn’t work and kickstarted Marcille’s pursuit of extending lifespans. Marcille has to settle with uncertainty, with knowing life can end at any moment and knowing this is who she is even if the world has no answers for her as to what that means, she has to come to terms with ambiguity and inbetweens.

Marcille’s relationship with her mother is very interesting because it’s shown all in small moments and implications, but we do see that Marcille’s mom is arguably her biggest role model.

She’s the one who shows up in Marcille’s nightmare about monster food early on, she is who told Marcille she’ll have to bear loss througout her life due to her lifespan, Marcille wears a choker like she does, it’s debatable that Marcille mimics her demeanor to seem more elven and dignified, in Marcille’s true nightmare she hides behind a portrait of her, she was the only living elven role model Marcille had around. Mother, who didn’t let grief over her husband rule the rest of her life, having even remarried, mother, who’s a court mage, mother, who pursued a life she wanted even if it cost her. And we do know being an elf is important to Marcille! She seeks to conform to elven beauty standards rigidly, both in gender presentation and things like facial hair, and she’s masked as one since she was enrolled in the magic academy, as far as we know her first time away from home and her first big period of social contact since she isolated herself with chickens and books when she was younger, because she had no peers. Books like the daltian clan, with an aestheticized all elven cast with the one exception of the half-elf character she deeply related to.

Marcille’s bangs are also half down and half cut. Before she had to cut some hair to make familiars, long bangs were what Marcille wore for years, meanwhile in all of Marcille’s childhood flashbacks including at the magic academy her bangs were always cut short. As we know, hair is important to elves. Her hair is elfness. Her hair is elegance. Her hair is her age. Her bangs are uneven now. It’s part of accepting her precarious weird spot in an inbetween, half up half down haircut. Acceptance on her own aging, that there’s no empiric answer for what Marcille’s equivalent age is in elf or tallman or other, maybe just a ballpark if even that. Answers which are what she’s most desperate to know. What do you mean that student over there has got an astronomic result on her dungeoneum and what do you mean she doesn’t really care for how you did it? Falin who’s thus showing her another way to be, with less self-made pressure, that you can just go with the flow- that you can just… Be.

Her hair being all down and messy as a dungeon lord is part of making the characters and audience understand that Marcille is out of it, but… Like her barefootness there’s some flexibility it implies, for Marcille who’s so rigid on appearance. Accepting her hair to be messy, a sort of shedding of who she is even as she’s overdressed and trying so hard to look like something she doesn’t feel as.

That’s why her outfit makes her feel courageous. Because it makes her feel different from who she is otherwise, because it grants her a look she feels naked without, even with barefeet and messy hair. It’s externalizing how she’s been trying to hold it all together and all her confliction and her feelings, offering some catharsis, no more hiding herself, she’s a half-elf trying to do dark magic. Clean Marcille, clean clean Marcille— Overthinking the dressing, the superficial the aesthetic, without looking enough at the body it’s covering up, the laws of the world the ecosystem of the dungeon the opinions of her friends’— what’s standing right in front of her face, the underlying thing holding up the rest of what she’s trying to change, what’s truly important. She’s back to being like with meeting Falin, overfocusing on the details and the nitpicks and the theorics while oblivious to the slimes and the bats and the balance of mana in that small cave dungeon. She has the dress and the hat but as a whole she doesn’t look like a slay queen or a princess or a cool sorceress or even like her mother, she just looks like a mess. 

Ultimately after calming down, she takes the earmuffs off. She lays down her childhood trauma and leaves behind its grip on her and moves forward in the dress, with maturity and emotional intelligence and logic to deal with her current situation instead of coping mechanisms and desperate grasps for control. And then when the dungeon lord becomes Laios her dress poofs, she’s in her very plain pajamas, plain Marcille, and it’s that Marcille who goes forward to help Laios save the world and defeat the demon. Hence why post-canon she starts dressing in similar dresses to her mother as well, and starts wearing more black. Black here is a color associated with her mother. She keeps her own touch and color here and there, like her red choker instead of a black one, but it’s a stark and sudden difference. She’s matured.

Her dungeon lord outfit is a coming of age outfit in a very literal way. A bridge between childhood and adulthood. We see her struggle metaphorically between the past and the future, moving on or holding onto trauma. The dress, from her mother, with cleavage and low cut sleeves and a lace gap going down to her stomach and a very short risqué skirt cut, represents maturity but it was very purposefully contrasted with the earmuffs, a childish piece of accessory associated with youth. This shows her mental state, battling with her emotions, wildly fluctuating between her academic put-together powerful self and the childish emotional outbursts the pressure is causing. Time moves on too fast but she’s not growing up fast enough to keep up or make the academic breakthroughs she wants— time is always running out and she’s both too young or too old she’s pulled in both directions and she can never be up to standards. It represents her struggle with her lifespan, her struggle to fit in, to know who she should be and what she should be doing.

Her friends aren’t afraid to say it like it is and bring back her feet to the ground instead of up in the clouds of fantasy and power, from where she was, her feet back on the dirt of where they are right now instead of the theorics of "when" and "then" and "forever". She’s weird, she’s unique, in some ways she doesn’t fit in with any group anywhere, and that’s ok and she’s accepted that it doesn’t mean she can’t feel belonging and joy as herself with her flawed friends in a flawed world. After all they did stick with her even after seeing her whole tantrum and embarrassing breakdown makeover. Personally I do say, slay queen.

You’re still here? If you’d like a full look at Marcille’s dunlord outfit, I made an entirely too long analysis of it here, this is just an excerpt of the most canon section.

[jarl-deathwolf]

EXCELLENT!

Ooo that is a lot of FANTASTIC information, I pulled up a document and got to work taking notes. I'll have to spend some time sorting it out into a handy reference sheet but even as-is this will help a lot.

I'm really glad I asked because this includes a lot of details that I wouldn't even know to ask, like the acidic/neutral/alkaline distinctions between forests. Between that and the wet/dry divide, now I can look at a map of around where the characters are and sus out roughly what they're looking at. It really does take away a lot of the stress when

Better yet, it gives me options so I can pick some possible environments to suit what I need in the story. Like choosing a wet forest if I need treacherous terrain, or a Celtic Rainforest to enhance the splendor of a moment.

Best of all, this gives me a vocabulary of things that I can then look up references for, and a bank of plants and animals I can pull up to add life to a scene.

One thing I've really struggled with in this story has been giving the region its own distinct feel compared to other woodlands. Which is doubly important since the entire story revolves around people desperately trying to save it (and their culture) from being destroyed by colonization and conquest.

That section was pretty thorough, so I'll have to digest it for a while before I've got more questions there.

Anyway, getting into more specific comments, as well as the map, below:

(map by @noanieactuallydrawingalot) So this is the continent where the stories take place as a whole. I may or may not have made the Fells (Fantasy Wales) something like five times as large as its real counterpart. Here is more specifically the Fells, with the three big rivers named (I assume there are many more rivers and small lakes, these are just major ones) and the historic realms of the Fells marked out

I've tentatively named some broader regions, but I'm not confident about those just yet. Red dots denote major cities. The yellow line is where the old empire's borders were - those five Fellish realms are still fully under foreign rule, with four more ruled by Marcher Lords, which is just more tenuous foreign rule.

Let me know how I did with the geography and such! I've done a lot of free time studying and took a college course about it, but things like the effects of ocean currents and wind patterns always tripped me up. Anyway, I'm glad I ended up pretty close with Old Man Ash. I think he would be fine with the informal version - the other name he gets called in the story is Grandad, so I get the sense he cares more about people being comfortable in his presence than formality. Although keep me updated on if your inlaws have a different opinion - I'll need to contact my editor to update the PDF, so I'd rather do that just once. With what you said about broadleaves being exclusively what makes up the old growth forests, I wonder if that would mean that all Dagfolk would be based on broadleaves? 🧐 Since I'm sending pictures, here is the (now properly named) Hynafwr Onn:

(art by dinwardo over on twitter)

Before I move onto the next thing, just a quick question: I have another Dagfolk (like Grandad up there). His current placeholder name is the Great Oak, and he's considered the wisest and most powerful of the Dagfolk. A personal friend of King Arthur.

I don't suppose you'd have a suggestion for a name?

I am delighted that you bring up bards because I made the main character a Fellish bard by the name of Llywela ferch Marared. She plays a crwth and I like to have her make subtle references to Welsh songs like Sebona Fi and Yma O Hyd. I gave her uncommonly red hair to imply a connection with Annwyn.

(I realize that's not the usual spelling of Annwn, but I chose it so I wasn't directly cribbing mythology and making it harder for people to learn about those myths) I also have some commissioned art of Llywela, plus the Lady of the Lake and the Merlin analogue, for what it is worth. You mentioned faeries with the peat bogs. I don't think faeries will be making a huge appearance in this story (mostly just one knight), but I'd be glad to hear about Welsh-specific faerie lore if you've got it on hand.

You also said that cheeses were a big Welsh cultural touchstone. Are there Welsh specific varieties that you can tell me about? And what sort of dishes are they made into?

Also on that train of thought, you mentioned a plant that flavors mead - would that be the go-to alcohol of choice, or are there others floating around? Both for a lord's table and what you might find in an inn.

And thanks again for the response, this really has been a treasure trove of great information for me!

Hi hello! I'm writing a story in my original world, set in a Fantasy Wales. A King Arthur Returns type story, if that matters.

I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about Welsh ecology? And possibly also some cultural details?

Thanks ahead of time! And I understand if you decline or don't respond!

YES OH MY GOD YES HELLO

[sidneywasfound]

YOU KNOW I'M NOT YOURS ✷

★Pairing: Franco Colapinto x !Fem Reader

✧Plot: You and Franco broke up 3 months ago, but he's still looking for an excuse to see You.

☆!Warnings: angst and smut, this is very short actually (and sweet [NO] omg),Bad English writing

✯Contents: Angst Discussions,Insecure thoughts?) smut: Hair pulling/grabbing,sex without protection(don't do that please)

💋

Pd: i'm really Bad at English.I'm argentinian and i'm still learning English ...Since English is not my first language this could be written horribly,and it's very cringe too...So I totally accept advices and comments to improve it! ♡

The next thing you remember was franco,He went through all the drawers in the house."The fuck do You want?" You said upset."I'm looking for My sunglasses,y'know they're are really important to me because they gave me those when...", And back again the whole story was repeated,Franco would go back to look for some another stupid thing that he forgot in your house when he was still with you,And you would eat up his entire stupid line,"it's really important to me...","If it bothers you so much, why don't you..blah blah...".you hated that part of the story...But the next one...

You Heard that anoying sound again *Ring* *Ring*,why was he Even calling You to the house phone ? "we are not in the 80's,send me a message or something" You tought.You decided to get up and answer.

Of course, that whole verse was an excuse that was repeated like a routine that stays stuck in your head every day. But when the story turned to your pink slik bed,everything was different,everytime.

Your hands gripped the headboard tightly as you rode Franco. You loved to make eye contact with him while You maintain your hand on his chest,it went up and down with his agitated breathing.

He was grabbing your waist and pulling it down and up,your movement were becoming more out of sync and he noticed it,"What's wrong hermosa? Do you want me to fuck you by myself?" He said, running a hand over your neck and down to your tits. Without Even saying a Word he turned you over and put a hand over your head He put a hand on your head that was facing to the side and grabbed your hair tightly, pushing your head down. He started to thrust you while you let out some small moans from your mouth 'ah ah ah'. In that exact moment You tought "what am i doing?", You loved him,yes he was a dick sometimes but You apreciate that he would make some stupid excuses just to see you. And that's when the knot in your pelvis thought faster than your mind

" 'm gonna...ah mierda..", he said desperately thrusting you,with Your mouth wide open you let out a moan nodding your head,"i...ah...i..." Franco didn't understood what were You trying to said,and that's when both finished ,moaning and Clinging to each other."i love You...",You whispered as he collapsed on top of you, placing his face in the crook of your neck. He was frozen,"o-ok...babe i...i have to go...", he stood up and You watch him dressing up,upset,what the fuck is wrong with him?,"Franco why-",You couldn't end your prhase when he interrupted,"You know You...You can't just Say that..."You just stood there frozen, lying naked on the bed, staring at him worriedly,and god you looked gorgeous."Then what the fuck is wrong with You?...seriously franco why are You doing this?!" He stays in silence "i don't...love You" he says breaking the silence "then get out of My house." You said Indifferent"hey babe we can-" You put on your underwear and stood in front of him "No!,why would You treat me like that if nothing happened between us?! i don't understand why are You leaving me?,why would You change?!."

And then he just go,he doesn't want You You Guess,You Say to yourself that if in the future he ask for something he forgot You wouldn't let him go back. But You also knew that this was also the beginning of the same story and rutine.

This was horrible sorry 😔

IM NEW AT THIS OK