#now that I’m thinking about it I feel like part of my problem with dialogue is that it’s very segmented so it’s hard to get a good

[ninjaaa-go]

what is this??? one of my characters is actually making me like writing dialogue??? madness

[mistiell]

Let me put my Lips to Something

Pairing: Spencer x Fem! Reader

Summary: After learning about his aversion to touch, you tone down the physical affection. Spencer finds himself missing your touch, and after weeks of yearning, he’s had enough. He decides it’s time to fix this.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Fluff, it gets pretty steamy towards the end but nothing graphic so I don't think this needs age restricting lmao

A/N: Part 2 to “I’m Starvin’, Darlin’”. The feedback on the last part motivated me to finish this in like, a single sitting lmao. Hope y’all enjoy! :)

P.S. My requests are open so if you wanna send something in for Spence, I'll do my best to get to it quickly!

Part 1 - Current - Part 3

Spencer hadn’t realised how much he wanted — how much he needed — your touch until you stopped. Where there was once that warm, tingly anticipation whenever he made you laugh, there‘s now a strange absence left in its wake. Where there used to have been a bump or a squeeze, there are awkward smiles and nervous glances. Like a line of dialogue without end quotations, left to hang in the balance while the author considers what should be said next.

It’s killing him.

He’s come to realise that this want extends beyond the bounds of anything that could ever be considered platonic. He wants more than your touch. He wants you.

He craves you, finds himself remembering the way your arms felt around him the last time you hugged him. Finds himself fantasising about how it would feel to be the one to take you in his arms. How it would feel to be the one to hold you; to cradle your face between his palms and lose himself in your kiss; to let go of his inhibitions and drown himself in the depths of your affections.

He wants your time and energy. He wants your attention and praise. He wants to be the one to make you smile and laugh so hard your stomach hurts. He wants to be yours, and he wants everyone to know it.

It’s only been three weeks since that night at the bar, but even so, he feels like if he doesn’t figure out how to tell you how he feels, he might very well lose his mind. You’re right across from him all day, five days a week. It’s torture. Perhaps he’s being dramatic, but at this point, he’s well beyond caring.

The problem is, how on earth is he supposed to go about confessing to you? He’s never been suave or charismatic. He’s awkward and dorky and breaks a sweat every time anyone even remotely attractive looks his way. He’s never felt this intensely about anyone before, never desired anyone this way before. Sometimes, late at night when he’s finally tucked himself into bed, he attempts to calculate the probability of you ever wanting him in the way he wants you.

In his pessimistic mind, that number is despairingly low.

“Spence?” He startles at the sound of your voice, snapping his head up to look at you.

You’ve worn a different lipstick today. It’s a little darker than your usual colour, a rather glossy, rosier shade of mauve. He thinks he’s seen it somewhere before, and the name pops up from somewhere in his memory.

“Rum raisin.” He mumbles, staring intently at your lips and wondering briefly if it would transfer if he kissed you.

“What?” You cock your head at him with an amused sort of confusion.

He blinks once before clearly his throat, “Oh, um, your lipstick.”

You raise your hand so your fingertips hover over your bottom lip as you smile at him, “How’d you know?”

“I saw it in a drugstore once.”

You chuckle and shake your head, “Your memory never ceases to amaze me, Spence.”

His heart swells as he smiles sheepishly, “Thanks.”

You hum before gesturing to two big boxes of files that are sitting on your desk, “Could you help me run these down to records?”

“Oh, yeah.” He’s quick to cross the short distance to your desk and purposely picks the heavier of the two boxes.

The trip down to records is a rather tedious one as of today. The elevator is out of order so you have to take the stairs from the sixth floor to the third.

“Do you like rain?” You ask, and it takes him a moment to realise you’re looking out water speckled windows at the stormy street below.

“Yeah.” He leaves out the part that the possibility of power outages and the darkness that accompanies them unnerves him greatly.

You turn your head to smile at him as you reach the records room, “Me too.”

He opens the door for you before you have the chance and lets you go in first, letting the door shut behind him. He follows you into the room, weaving between shelves and stepping over boxes that have yet to find their places. He watches you skim over the yellowed labels, your lips twitching as you read them off in your head.

You find the spot you’re looking for and make a sound of satisfaction before bending at the waist to slide the box into place, your skirt sliding a little further up to press against the plush flesh of the backs of your thighs. His gaze wanders up the length of your body and stops at your chest. From this angle, he’s able to see the curve of your breast and he swallows hard. Squeezing his eyes shut, he shakes his head, feeling ashamed for ogling you like that.

Behind the darkness of his eyelids, he sees the lights flicker and when he opens them, he finds he’s not able to see much more than when he had them closed.

Shit.

“Damnit, the power’s out.” You curse, taking the box from him and slotting it in next to the other.

He takes a deep breath. The dark isn’t as frightening with you there in front of him, but that familiar anxiety pricks his chest and settles heavy in his gut.

“Spence?”

He wonders when the emergency lights will come on. Maybe they’re already on in the hall. He feels along the wall and shuffles back over to the door. When he tries the knob, he finds it locked. Now he’s panicking a little.

Well, maybe a lot.

There’s a clap of thunder outside that’s so powerful that he feels it in his chest and he jumps, breath catching in his chest as he screws his eyes shut as if it’ll make a difference.

“Spence?” You call again softly, “Are you okay?

“Y-Yeah.” He stutters.

“You don’t like storms?”

He shakes his head before realising you can’t see him, “No, not really.”

“Me neither.” You whisper, and he hears the shuffling of your clothes as you shift your weight between your feet and huff a breathy puff of nervous laughter, “I don’t like the dark either.”

“Me neither.” He echoes, wetting his lips briefly as he considers how to comfort you despite how anxious he is himself.

Carefully, tentatively, he reaches for you in the dark and takes your hand, just barely brushing his thumb over your knuckles. Your skin is soft and warm, and he attempts to find your face in the dark as he murmurs ever so softly, “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” You reply just as softly, squeezing his hand.

It’s a little unsettling not being able to see you. He can hear you breathing, and having your hand in his feels so nice, but he wants you closer.

“Can I…” He trails off, but tugs at your hand so you’ll step a little closer. He swallows his nerves, “Can I distract you?”

It’s a lame excuse, but it’s all he can come up with on the spot.

“Distract me how?” He can hear the smile in your voice and it encourages his steadily growing confidence.

He pulls you closer, and you step further into his space. He places a hand on your waist, and you don’t recoil. In fact, you come a little closer and set a hand on his chest. You slide it along the length of his shoulder and up the back of his neck to thread your fingers in the hairs at the base of his skull and he shudders, lips parting to sigh softly. Your thumb settles just behind his ear and strokes the skin there tenderly and he can’t stop himself from leaning down to gently bump your nose with his, giving you plenty of time to pull away, to tell him you don’t want this.

“Can I kiss you?” You ask so innocently, breath fanning over his lips in a steady rhythm as his eyelids flutter shut.

“Please.” He breathes, leaning in to meet you halfway.

Your lips meet his timidly and his heart stutters in his chest. There’s a second where you pull back to let him breathe, let him get used to the feeling. His eyes open a sliver, just enough to make out the edges of you in the dark as his brain catches up with his body. And then the shock passes.

And he devours you.

The hand that was on your waist comes up to cradle your cheek as he brushes his tongue against your bottom lip in a silent request. You grant it, opening up to him to let him roll his tongue against yours. You stand on your tiptoes and lean further into him, returning the kiss with a fervour he wasn’t expecting but welcomes happily. He can taste your lipstick and is pleasantly surprised to find it tastes a little like vanilla.

There’s a push and pull of tongues and teeth and soft little sighs as he dares to slip his hands down and pull you flush against him by your hips, revelling in the breathy moan that slips from your throat and meets his mouth. He pulls away only to kiss sloppily at the corner of your mouth and down your jaw. He nips at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, smiling against your skin when you gasp and tug at his hair. Mouthing at your skin, he searches until you whine and shudder after he drags his teeth over a particular spot and focuses his attention there.

He sucks a nice bruise into the spot, some primal part of him driving him to mark you up and claim you as his while he has you here. He bites a little too hard and you hiss, making him pull back and search for your face in the dark.

“Sorry, did I hurt you?”

“Mm-mm.” You hum before immediately capturing his lips again, slipping your tongue into his mouth and swallowing the moan that escapes him.

He guides you by your hips until he has you pressed against the door, sliding a hand down the length of your thigh before slipping it up past the hem of your skirt to grab greedily at your flesh. He hikes your leg up by his hip and you hook your knee around it to pull him impossibly close.

His touch is tender even as he practically swallows you whole, thumb stroking the side of your thigh where your skirt has ridden up. He rolls his hips up against your experimentally and you whine, urging him to do it again. This is what he’s wanted — craved — for so long. You’re warm and soft in ways that his imagination could have never replicated. He’s dizzy, drunk on your kiss, on your touch, on you.

He’s attached himself to your neck again — the other side this time — when the lights flicker on, startling you both into looking up at the ceiling.

The room is filled with nothing but the sound of your combined laboured breathing, and when he looks back at you, he finds your face flushed and your lipstick smudged. You look back at him and he notices your pupils are blown wide as you suddenly smile and start giggling.

“What?” He chuckles, letting go of your thigh so that you can stand on your own two feet again.

“Rum raisin looks good on you, doctor.” You laugh, thumbing the remnants of your kisses off of his bottom lip.

He kisses you once again, smiling against your lips.

You tug him back and laugh again, “You’re making it worse!”

He does it again, and again, and then peppers kisses over the side of your neck until you’re giggling something awful and have to scrunch your shoulder to your ear to keep him from tickling you.

“Spencer!” You squeak as quietly as you can and he pulls away laughing.

Your giggles die down, and then you’re both left in a silence that isn’t awkward, but isn’t quite comfortable either. He has to say something, but what?

“Hey, would you, um,” You start, glancing down at his lips and biting at yours nervously, “Would you like to go out with me sometime? Just us?”

He blinks, wanting to pinch himself to make sure this is actually happening, “Like, a date?”

You nod. He blinks again before practically beaming at you.

“Yeah.” He nods, attempting to correct the smudged edge of your lipstick with his thumb, “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

“Saturday? Five o’ clock? We can do whatever you want.”

He nods again, “Sounds good.”

“Good.” You smile, leaning up to kiss him, your touch so saccharine and gentle that his legs feel like jello beneath him.

The doorknob jiggles suddenly and he instinctively reaches to help you button up your blouse a little more while you fiddle with the collar until it covers the rather obvious hickey on your neck.

“Hey, are you two still in there?” Derek calls from the other side as you attempt to help Spencer fix his hair to no avail.

“Uh, yeah!” He calls, clearing his throat after his voice cracks up an octave, “We accidentally locked ourselves in.”

“Here.” You bend to slide the key under the door, and this time, he stares unabashedly, “That’s the key.”

The knob jiggles a little more before the door opens, and when it does, Derek eyes the two of you suspiciously, “You guys okay?” He locks eyes with Spencer and smirks, “You seem a little winded.”

“Yeah, we’re okay.” You smile, hastily walking out, “The boxes were just heavy. Plus, we had to walk all the way down here.”

“Yeah, okay.” Derek says, though it’s clear he isn't convinced. When you get a little further ahead of them, he claps Spencer on the back with a bright grin, “About time, loverboy!”

“Shut up.” Spencer shoots back, though he can’t help the smile that creeps up on his face.

This is not how he expected his confession to go, but — as he watches you walk down the hall a little ways ahead of him with a renewed pep in your step and your hair a little dishevelled — he is so glad it went the way it did.

———————————————————————

Edit: I had a couple people request a part 3 (Possibly smutty, but we shall see), and I'm curious about whether or not y'all would want that? Just let me know in the replies/reblogs. :)

Update: Part 3 is posted and linked at the top of this post :)

Taglist:

@louderfortheback @theblaxkbird @marimorena06 @special-forces7 @lolilkkk

[evilwizard]

I do want to say, my views on AI “art” have changed somewhat. It was wrong of me to claim that it’s not wrong to use it in shitposts… there definitely is some degree of something problematic there.

Personally I feel like it’s one of those problems that’s best solved via lawmaking—specifically, AI generations shouldn’t be copywrite-able, and AI companies should be fined for art theft and “plagiarism”… even though it’s not directly plagiarism in the current legal sense. We definitely need ethical philosophers and lawmakers to spend some time defining exactly what is going on here.

But for civilians, using AI art is bad in the same nebulous sense that buying clothes from H&M or ordering stuff on Amazon is bad… it’s a very spread out, far away kind of badness, which makes it hard to quantify. And there’s no denying that in certain contexts, when applied in certain ways (with actual editing and artistic skill), AI can be a really interesting tool for artists and writers. Which again runs into the copywrite-ability thing. How much distance must be placed between the artist and the AI-generated inspiration in order to allow the artist to say “this work is fully mine?”

I can’t claim to know the answers to these issues. But I will say two things:

Ignoring AI shit isn’t going to make it go away. Our tumblr philosophy is wildly unpopular in the real world and most other places on the internet, and those who do start using AI are unfortunately gonna have a big leg up on those who don’t, especially as it gets better and better at avoiding human detection.

Treating AI as a fundamental, ontological evil is going to prevent us from having these deep conversations which are necessary for us—as a part of society—to figure out the ways to censure AI that are actually helpful to artists. We need strong unions making permanent deals now, we need laws in place that regulate AI use and the replacement of humans, and we need to get this technology out of the hands of huge megacorporations who want nothing more than to profit off our suffering.

I’ve seen the research. I knew AI was going to big years ago, and right now I know that it’s just going to get bigger. Nearly every job is in danger. We need to interact with this issue��sooner rather than later—or we risk losing all of our futures. And unfortunately, just as with many other things under capitalism, for the time being I think we have to allow some concessions. The issue is not 100% black or white. Certainly a dark, stormy grey of some sort.

But please don’t attack middle-aged cat-owners playing around with AI filters. Start a dialogue about the spectrum of morality present in every use of AI—from the good (recognizing cancer cells years in advance, finding awesome new metamaterials) to the bad (megacorporations replacing workers and stealing from artists) to the kinda ambiguous (shitposts, app filter that makes your dog look like a 16th century British royal for some reason).

And if you disagree with me, please don’t be hateful about it. I fully recognize that my current views might be wrong. I’m not a paragon of moral philosophy or anything. I’m just doing my best to live my life in a way that improves the world instead of detracting from it. That’s all any of us can do, in my opinion.

[apostaterevolutionary]

I am so sorry, apparently it’s 2024 and I’m arguing about dragon age again lmao. How did I get here! Why is this happening!! Time is a flat circle!!!

Anyway. People can feel how they want about the past games not mattering in this game. If you’re cool with it, I’m happy for you. But there’s one particular argument in defence of this choice that is really, really bothering me and I have to rant

The thing I keep seeing is “well all this other stuff has nothing to do with the main plot or Rook, so it should be cut” and that’s. Not a good way to tell stories in my opinion. Because here’s the thing: it’s not about the Big Overall Plot. It’s about the characters that live in this world, big and small

I’m going to use the example of Varric and Hawke cause I think it’s the easiest to explain quickly. Varric is a storyteller. That’s the defining trait of his character. He tells stories, and sometimes they’re true and sometimes they’re not and sometimes it’s something in between. In DA2 he tells you about his brother. In inquisition, he talks about hawke and there’s banter about several of the companions. Most of these are just little one liners that don’t “serve the overall plot” but they serve Varric’s character

And that matters

So if we take this character known for telling stories about people that have been in his life, well, he largely can’t do that now. How can he talk about Hawke, someone who can be a very close friend of his, without even their gender being a choice you can select? Or whether Varric should be saying ‘is’ or ‘was’ about them? How can he talk about the companions in DA2 or inquisition when a lot of them don’t have to be recruited or can die? Will he limit himself to only characters that are guaranteed to be a part of it and alive? Or is it that he and Rook will have such a shallow relationship that Varric, of all characters, never talks about his life and past exploits?

Or has Varric as a character changed so much that he doesn’t even want to tell stories anymore? That Hawke living or dying means nothing to him? That the friendships he built with people in 2 games mean nothing to him? That he’s become literally unrecognizable?

This is where the problem is. Sure, Rook maybe doesn’t care about these people they’ve never met. But do they care about Varric? What about if a companion mentions an old friend of theirs, talks about an experience they had that made them who they are - is that only okay if that experience isn’t from a previous game? Or are all the characters so flat that we never learn anything about their connections to others outside of Rook? Is this story SO focused on this player character and this plot that NOTHING else matters, even within the world, and there’s no depth to be found in any of the characters that feature in it?

Writing characters so that they only ever talk about things that “directly serve the plot” is how you get flat, unremarkable, boring, forgettable characters. And that’s not something I would have accused bioware of doing even if some instalments are stronger in this area than others. But it sounds like that’s what they’re doing here, at least with the past characters. Cause sure, maybe Morrigan is so closed off she’ll never mention her son and partner. That’s believable, even if iffy given that they’ve said she’s going to be more involved than we think. But Varric? VARRIC??? Never mentioning ANY of the people he used to spend time with and care about except Solas and maybe some of the inquisition characters that can’t die or not be recruited but also carefully skirting around what happened to them in the game? That’s literally not the same character

And I would expand this to like. A letter mentioning this or a codex mentioning that, or ambient dialogue about so and so - that makes the world feel deep and those random, unimportant NPCs feel richer by connecting them to the larger world. It’s not about “serving the plot”, it’s about making your world and characters deep enough that they feel real, lived in, and like something we can actually care about

[lorde--of--the--rings]

SPOILERS! On Solavellan in DA4

Prefacing this in saying i’m giving my own take (not fact or fiction or right or wrong just my take) on this. I really love this community because I get to read other people’s thoughts and feelings about this game we all love. so just hoping to join the dialogue for a moment on this.

Sollavellan is a big part of the veilguard ending if you let it be/want it to be-- but I'm not convinced that this is because of the ship itself, but the fact that their relationship (romantic or platonic) is important to Solas's development as a character. I played this game and interpret solas’s part in the narrative of the game as a representation of regret, shame, and what regret and shame can drive us to when we let them— really thinking of the line in Macbeth where he remarks  "I am in blood 1440. Stepp'd in so far that, should I wade no more, Returning were as tedious as go o'er…." (3.4 134-136)

Bro is so far into his own despair and shame that he can’t see any other way out-- he's tied up in the logical fallacy that to be good now would be a "betrayal" of those he wronged before; he can't imagine any other end to the story than to "right" his previous "wrongs" by fully "fixing" the world he sees as broken.

Enter the inquisitor, a total wildcard who disrupts his plans in DA3 and the domino effect we play out in Veilguard. Whether or not you romance Solas in DA3, Quizzy is still a blindsiding character that disrupts solas and his worldview. Here is a person with immense power and influence, who, unlike Mythal, actually wields it to protect those they love and patch up a world that THEY had a hand in breaking (rather unintentionally,… sounds familiar?) 

But more importantly-- they're able to be redeemed in a way Solas imagines to be impossible for himself.

Quizzy represents who Solas was, or could be, without his pride and without the influence of Mythal. They fit in as a puzzle piece in his transformation WITH OR WITHOUT romance, and with or without friendship.

This is why Solas having the opportunity to be redeemed in DA4 makes so much sense to me, he is effectively forced by what he lives through in DA3 to question his own plans and approach, or at the very least become aware of his own infallibility in comparison to an alternative and restorative type of problem solving. This all sets the scene for Rook and Varric once again foiling him (you meddling kids! and speaking of foils, Varric/Rook and Solas are as foily and foil characters get…) 

Oh and your ex (lover, leader, friend/foe) just appears out of the blue and is like ok bro party’s over. Confronted with all of this, with Varric’s fate, with Mythal’s memory if you choose that path, and oh, hey, look it’s Quizzy….

I know he’s the ancient elven god of trickery, but isn’t it so much more interesting that he could also be the ancient elven god of resistance, of thwarting power and authority, and in that vein be redeemed and live out this alternative side of himself? Rather than being the god of pride he can live as the spirit of wisdom he was before Mythal, and in that also resistance— resisting the toxic urge to destroy in order to create/redeem.

We know these "Gods" aren’t really "Gods," so why not let them occupy this grey space?

[hyperions-light]

hey I was planning another post today but instead let’s talk about how much I love that there’s not really a ‘good’ ending to the companion plotlines in Veilguard. It reminds me of Leliana and Alistair’s plotlines in DAO in that what you choose says more about the player/protagonist than anything

I just finished Isana Negat a second time, and I did the other ending and I thought it was just as good. Like, yeah, Harding does deserve to be angry! They did fucking get everything taken away from them! It’s so painful and horrific; yes you can, and should, be mad! But also Harding prioritizing her very real love for and compassion towards other people is not wrong. It’s just different! It’s just Rook’s friend/lover asking them for advice, and Rook giving it! You know, like in real life except with huge magical rock giants

And okay I’m never going to kill Illario because I think it would make Luca really sad and he has enough problems, Whoops I misremembered this, I don’t think you can kill Illario actually. I love that for Luca <3 But yk, I’m probably still not going to imprison him. but I can see it! Because the cycle has to end, right? The violence and infighting of the Crows endlessly attacking each other over power is part of what allowed the Antaam to get a foothold in Antiva, because there was like a double agent or something (if I’m remembering right from Tev Nights). Some kind of ending needs to be made to this endless violence. And I suppose it depends on how retributive Rook is, which is a great question to ask of the player (one that is asked repeatedly throughout the game). It’s not like Illario didn’t do anything, you know! He probably deserves punishment. But Rook, as they always can at various points, can be merciful, can choose absolution. Wow no, I’m glad I was wrong I love it more like this.

And oh boy, I LOVED the ending of Emmrich’s quest, don’t even get me started! Like!! I thought it was going to be ‘well obviously we HAVE to save Manfred’, but how Emmrich talks about accepting his death and his sacrifice convinced me! I was like alright man, this is a real choice! I actually did make him a lich last time (made a lot of sense from a Watcher perspective, imo) and not only was the cutscene sick as hell, but the follow-up was so funny and I got some really sad Spite dialogue which fucking wrecked me. It was great— seriously, his plotline is one of my favorites in the whole game.

And Davrin’s! I’ve already expounded at length about how much I like his quest line and how it ties into the Grey Wardens, but I really think both of his options for the griffons are so workable, because you know the Grey Wardens, especially under Antione and Evka, aren’t going to hurt those little guys again! But also the scenes with Eldrin are so endearing, and Davrin’s hope for a brighter future for them is so sweet and genuine. It’s hard to pick! It’s about Rook's perspective!

Neve's I'll admit I don't vibe with as much just because of the like 'trust the authorities' angle, but i haven't tried saving Minrathous yet and I think it would be sooooo involving as a Shadow Dragon especially. Because that's what they're fighting for, right? That better Minrathous where they CAN be sure that if they send the insane cultist lady to prison she’s going to stay there? But there’s always the practical consideration of people’s lives being at stake NOW, of Neve needing her friends safe NOW. And just killing Aelia ensures she will never be an issue again. So I can see both angles for sure

And Taash ;-; oh, Taash. I haven’t posted about them that much yet because they make me very emotional and it’s hard to organize thoughts like that. But I really love their quest, and their struggle to define themselves. And look, I know people wanted the option to tell them they could be both, but like as a person who has lived a similar experience, it really feels sometimes like the world is making you choose. It can feel like you’re not enough of either thing for anyone. And there are parts of your identity that you will have to make a choice on, and I think it’s trying to speak to that. I did the Rivaini one, and it’s like… well, they’re embracing the culture of Rivain, but it’s not like anyone is ever going to look at them and NOT see a Qunari. You can’t get away from that. What you choose to do in response is a real dilemma and I think that if you engage with the text genuinely you can see what Trick was doing. Also, there is a really great dialogue from Rook that I think gives more context to the discussion; they can say that they have been many things, and it’s important to take what works from each experience and make it part of yourself. So I don’t think Taash’s plot is trying to make them throw away any of themselves, just defining priorities. (Sorry, that got long. Feelings, opinions about that one)

And I don’t think Bellara’s is obvious, either, especially with how they involve the Nadas Dirthalen in her personal plot. This is a thing that is really emotionally and culturally significant to her, but at the same time it is part of what hurt her brother and ultimately took him away from her. She’s really preoccupied with not causing harm by her actions; she spends the whole game worried about it! And even though Rook doesn’t see the dangerous elements of the repository, that doesn’t mean they’re not there. The puzzle quest you can find in Arlathan proves that other people besides Cyrian were taken in by Anaris. And also, there’s the plot thread they briefly touched on in the last game which is that the culture the Dalish have built, that they have RIGHT NOW, is not wrong. But it’s also important to remember history, even if it’s unpleasant or could be dangerous, which is another thing you can discuss with Bellara during the game. So there’s no wrong choice! It’s just about Rook and Bellara and what’s important from their perspectives.

Anyway it was super refreshing to have these kinds of choices! It reminds me of the best character choices in DAI and DAO, especially, and I’m so happy they carried those things forward and improved on them.

[gwenllian-in-the-abbey]

Not fluent in English. 

Please tell me I’m not the the only who noticed that team green characters in the show aren’t allowed to hate team black characters. 

Like Aemond can’t even hate Lucerys for cutting his eye and disabled him for life. 

And Alicent can’t hate Viserys for marrying and gr*ping her and forcing pregnancies on her, even though he have no intention to name any of their sons his heir, and treating her mostly like a caretaker and concubine rather than his lawful wife and the mother of his legitimate children. 

Aegon and Helaena aren’t even allowed to hate Daemon the man who ordered the death of their Son.

Like why??? Why aren’t they allowed to hate them???

Hi aleksandra! You make a good point! I think there are a few things going on here.

For one, I think the writing is incredibly inconsistent across the board this season, and there are a lot of dropped plot threads. Some of it is intentional (like, I do think B&C was deliberately downplayed and undermined so that Alicent could have that Dragonstone scene, more on that in a bit), some of it I think is just bad writing and a kind of ... well, look, I can't speculate as to what goes down in the writer's room and have no idea what their workflow looks like or what processes they follow, but a problem going back to S1 is that characters and dialogue vary a lot from episode to episode. I don't think it's all that normal for a fandom to be concerned ahead of time about which writers will be writing which scenes and which episodes, but with HotD there seem to be huge differences in how each writer interprets the characters. Having worked on OFCIR collaboratively with @aifsaath, we work really hard to make sure the chapters are relatively consistent. I gave our first few chapters to my critique partner for original fiction, a guy who knows my writing inside and out, someone I've worked with for about 6 years now, @theravenpiper, and he could not actually tell which scenes were written by me, and which were written by Aife, which I took as a big complement to our collaborative process, and to our ability to edit to a uniform standard. Now I'm not saying we do it better than the HotD writers, but I do think that there is something missing from their collaborative process that makes the entire thing seem disjointed.

I do not think it is entirely that the whole of team green is not allowed to be angry at team black, although that is part of it, some of it is part of an overall bigger problem where major events are not allowed to resonate across the story, and I chalk some of it up to simple bad writing. Rhaenyra is apparently over Luke's death enough by E3 that she can seek out Alicent for some kind of vague "let's stop this madness" ploy, but still conveniently needs "a son for a son" in E8. Although Rhaenyra is negotiating from a position of power in E8, there was no reason for her to feel so desperate as of E3, when Rook's Rest hasn't even happened yet, that she would set aside her grief and anger and go seek peace. Peace was offered in E10 of season 1 and Rhaenyra turned it down after Luke died, so what has changed besides Rhaenyra's own husband beheading a toddler? Other events happen too and have little or no consequence. Rhaenyra and Mysaria kiss in E6 and it's entirely forgotten by E8, with zero follow up. Criston Cole is brought to his knees by the sight of Aegon lying injured by his dragon, but never even visits his bedside. Gwayne never interacts with anyone aside from Alicent and Criston. Rhaenyra sends her younger children to the Vale and never mentions them again (she is shown looking wistfully at a box of toys), nor does Jace. Laena in a vision berates Daemon for not looking after their girls, but does he ask after them when Broome shows up directly from Dragonstone? I could go on. Events just happening and then never really mattering again is a consistent problem throughout the season, which makes it hard to tell when it is happening deliberately and when it is happening because the writers can't get on the same page.

There are two things I do think are deliberate, however, one of them being the scrubbing of Viserys' image. While audiences loved Paddy's performance, a lot of viewers did pick up on how Viserys played favorites and neglected his sons, and I think when the show decided to switch up Alicent's motivation from "she wants to protect her children and knows they will face the sword if Rhaenyra comes to power" to "she misheard Viserys' last words," they knew that the natural question is, "why should she care about Viserys' last words?" A lot of the immediate feedback about that episode involved how Alicent was stupid for not knowing Otto planned to have Aegon take the throne, and a lot of people didn't think that Alicent (or Aegon for that matter) really believed that Viserys changed his mind, but apparently that was the writers' intention, that Alicent truly believed it and managed to convince Aegon (there's a lot I could say about how they could have included this deathbed misunderstanding into the plot without having it replace all of Alicent's other motivations, but they did not do that). So in order to drive home the point that the whole entire war is being fought due to this misunderstanding, they have to make sure the audience is clear that all of these characters considered Viserys a good king. Even if he was Alicent's rapist. Even if he was a deadbeat dad. Even if he was a terrible husband. We are meant to believe he chose Rhaenyra not because he was playing mindgames or out of guilt over Aemma's death, no we must believe he chose Rhaenyra because he was good and wise and to convince us he was good and wise we have to have the green characters reminding us constantly that things were so much better when Viserys was around, that Aegon is inferior to Viserys, that Viserys' wishes are all that matter. Nevermind that it goes directly against the book, never mind that it's not even a particularly powerful or interesting change, it's what enables Rhaenyra and Alicent's relationship to continue. Because here's the thing-- if Alicent put Aegon on the throne because she felt it was the only way to keep her family safe, and because she feels that law and tradition ARE on her side, and because absolutism isn't good (!!!) then there's no chance for her and Rhaenyra to ever reconcile. These are irreconcilable differences, not misunderstandings. And so the show has to glaze Viserys otherwise the basic reasoning falls apart.

And the second is the events like Luke's death, Blood and Cheese and Rook's Rest come in, events in which the greens or the blacks harm and traumatize each other directly. It is not that the greens are not allowed to hate the blacks, it is that Alicent is not allowed to hate Rhaenyra, and by extension, the people who Alicent cares about are not allowed to hate her (I would argue that Aemond is allowed to hate Luke on screen, he literally murders him, and I don't think the scene with the brothel madame is an expression of true remorse, it's more "I'm kinda sorta sorry there were consequences for my actions."). Alicent cares about Helaena the innocent, and therefore Helaena cannot be allowed to hate Rhaenyra (note Phia Saban's many interviews about how apolotical and neutral Helaena is). Aegon, on the other hand, can be affected by B&C because he is allowed to hate Rhaenyra. In fact, his hate for Rhaenyra puts him at odds with his mother, which is what the show wants. Aegon is gravely injured at Rook's Rest, but good thing Rhaenyra's forces did not cause the injuries, Alicent herself drove him to battle with cruel words, and Aemond burned him, which puts him at odds with Alicent too (and Helaena is allowed to express ire at Aemond by extension). If you look at S2 as an exercise in driving a wedge between Alicent and her family and downplaying what happens to them in order to justify their decision to have Alicent seek out Rhaenyra and surrender Aegon's life, it makes a lot more sense.

The thing is, it still doesn't work. Their efforts are much too transparent and require characters to act in ways that are simply not within the realms of how normal human beings would react to these situations, much less the characters established in S1. There is a twitter user, and I'm so sorry that I can't remember their name at the moment, but I've seen them express the sentiment several times that Alicent's character this season made them aware, in a way that a viewer should never be aware, that these are scripted lines coming out of her mouth. That is, a lot of the characters in S2 do not feel like actual people. Aegon is such a fan favorite this season because he feels real. Alicent garnered legions of fans last season because her struggle felt real, even if we didn't agree with it. She felt like a character who inhabited a quasi-medieval world, bound by restraints we are not bound by, but nevertheless a human with human reactions who had to make difficult choices and persevere through them. And any human would be angry beyond comprehension at Blood and Cheese, would lose all faith in Rhaenyra, would know that there can be no peace if she is ruling with a man that ruthless at her side. If she thinks her sons are devils (and mind, so far as king Aegon's most egregious action is executing a handful of ratcatchers after one of their number murdered his son, whereas Rhaenyra burned about 65 peasants alive in a quasi religious ecstasy-- will Alicent ever find out about that, I wonder?), they are at least the devils she knows. Better they all die than end up in Daemon's hands, surely? And so OP, you're right, they are not allowed to hate each other when naturally you, and many others, feel like they should. That is because they are writer creations who would never do such things as what happen in the books in the first place, acting out plot points of entirely different characters (their book counterparts).

[yourlocalxiaosimp]

Hilarious dialogue ideas:

- “I don’t think he even remembers we’re dating.” “Wait, you guys are dating?”

- “[name] the red-tongued reindeer, had a very shiny tongue. And if you ever saw it, you would even say… yuck.”

- “I’m gonna need you to look deep into my eyes and ask me that question again.”

- “I got your mom on speed dial.”

- “Okay, but have you tried maybe not having a skill issue?”

- “Do you believe in fate?” “Do I know you?”

- “What if we’re all just part of a simulation?” “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!”

- “*forgets a word* How you say in English…” “Yo I didn’t know English wasn’t your first language.” “Oh no it is, I just say that to sound smarter.”

- “Maybe the real killer is the friends we made along the way.” “Bitch, [name] just died! What are you talking about?”

- “It’s not terrorism if it’s your own house.”

- “You can’t get an hourglass figure! You’re a burger!”

- “That is one of the last things of your older brother’s that lives here. Glad to know how you feel about him.” “…It’s a fucking ancient tv, what do YOU want to do with it?!” (Bonus points: the brother is still alive)

- “You killed my father!” “*clicks tongue* Sounds like a you problem.”

- “I didn’t lie. I just… told the wrong truth.”

- “Are you homophobic?” “Yes, homo sapiens are terrifying.”

- “…And now I’m just an old fat guy.” “Oh, come on. You’re not that old!”

- “I’ve got a brain the size of his dick, what do you expect?” “Hey, don’t drag me into your self deprecation!”

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Why Writing Is So Lonely | Rin T.

Hello writers, and anyone else who uses Tumblr on a daily basis like me. (Although I’ve been inactive off and on.) It’s me, Rin, and I wanted to talk about something that I think a lot of us struggle with. Or at least anyone, and everyone who considers themselves writers.

The loneliness that can come with the writing life and being a writer. We spend so much of our time alone. It doesn’t matter if you're using your laptop or scribbling in notebooks. Or pacing around in your living room and muttering dialogue to yourself (which I'm completely guilty of.)

Writing is really a solitary passion, and it hasn't just recently been like that. I'm sure Jane Austen and Edgar Allen Poe dealt with similar feelings. And sometimes that isolation can take a real toll that many of us choose to ignore, both on our creativity, our passion, which I assume is writing in this case, and our mental health.

I’ve been writing for about 4 years now, mostly working on my own little passion projects that I plan on publishing and side hustles, not only for my writing project but also my blog (TheWrite AdviceForWriters). I’m currently knee-deep in 4 different novel drafts that I’m absolutely in love with. However, let me tell you. It can get Very lonely a lot of times. There are days when I feel like I’m the only person in the world who cares about these made-up characters and their fictional problems. The characters I create in my mind are so vivid that they seem like the only individuals who actually care about my passion. (They technically are, considering they are basically my passion.)

It’s so easy to start wondering whether anyone will ever want to read the stories I'm pouring my heart into. The self-doubt I get has been a big part of my writing journey, and sometimes it breaks my heart knowing that I may not please everyone who reads my stories. That I possibly could get the worst reviews out there on my book. If it's not perfect for society. For example, I have been reading and receiving news on Alex Aster and the amount of bad reviews she received for her LightLark novel, and she has had a few times where she’s stated she poured her heart into it. And it's not just Aster who deals with these as a published author; there are many others, and it sometimes scares me.

But you know what? I've come to realize that this loneliness is just part of the writer’s journey. And that it truly is going to be the process of every writer’s journey and career. It’s going to be one of the prominent challenges we have to face if we want to do this crazy, wonderful, painful thing we call writing. And I think it's important we talk about it, especially since I'm a blogger who owns a blog specifically for writers. The biggest reason I chose to create this blog was for this reason and the many other challenges of being a writer. 

I definitely will consider this blog post to be a discussion, and if anyone wants to reblog or reply to this blog post and start a conversation, please do so, just so we can support each other and figure out healthy ways to cope.

So, why is writing such a lonely pursit? Well, there are quite a few reasons, especially reasons for each individual writer; however, here are a few key reasons:

The Act Itself is Solitary.

At the end of the day, writing is something we have to do on our own. Sure, we can brainstorm with other writers and friends who write or get feedback from beta readers. Or even develop  and edit your manuscript with a professional book editor. But the actual act of putting words on the page is a solo endeavor. We’re the ones doing the typing, the (physical) writing, and the constant racking of our brains to find the perfect word or phrase to put down on paper or the blank page on a screen.

Even when we’re writing collaboratively, there’s still a certain level of isolation involved. I mean, after all, our individual writing process and creative visions have to align for the collaboration to work.

And let’s be real—aligning those things isn't always easy.

I’ve reached out to book editors, more so of developmental editors, which is an editor who guides the writer/author on the actual plot and outline of the novel itself. And they have mentioned the difficulties of needing to align with the creativity of the topic or novel. It isn't easy at all.

I know that for me, my most productive writing sessions happen when I'm alone. And I know for a fact I'm not alone on that.

Having no distractions when it's just me, my thoughts, and the blinking cursor on the screen with a Spotify playlist playing in the background. And while that can be deeply fulfilling and very productive, I will admit it can be incredibly lonely.

It's an Emotionally Draining Process.

Writing isn't just about stringing words together. It's about pouring our hearts and souls onto the page. Were digging into our deepest emotions, our biggest fear, our wildest dreams, our thoughts, our philosophy, I can go on. And that kind of vulnerability can be utterly exhausting.

When I'm in the process of drafting a new novel or the many current projects I'm working on. I often find myself emotionally drained at the end of the day. I've been living and breathing these characters, feeling their joys and pains as my own. describing the actions, words, and emotions these characters do and feel. And then after that, I have to close my laptop, put my pen and notebook away, and try to reenter the “real world"—a world that doesn’t always understand the weight I've been carrying. 

It can be so isolating, feeling like the only person who understands the emotional journey of your writing. Knowing what it feels like to create characters and their stories and emotions and personalities just as if they were real humans. Our non-writer friends and family members try their best to be supportive, but unless they experience it firsthand, they cannot fully grasp the depth of what we go through. I can tell when I explain my projects to others who aren't writers, it can sometimes feel like they don't care about what I'm saying to them. Or it can also feel like, my stories are just a synopsis for an underrated movie no one’s ever watched.

It's a Profession of Rejection

I think we all know, writing is a tough gig. It's a tough career and job. Even the most successful authors have had to face their fair share of rejection. The rejections can be received from agents, publishers, readers, or critics. (like I mentioned earlier), and that constant stream of “no’s” can really chip away at our confidence and sense of self-worth. And especially if you're an aspiring author and have not yet published your work. Knowing that rejection is a big part of the career of writing is frightening. Really.

I remember when one of my best friends, who is a writer, who is currently in the process of publishing her book, would send query after query only to receive endless rejections. She told me it felt like the entire world was telling her, “Your writing isn't good enough,” and that can be a pretty lonely and demoralizing place to be. It has made me anxious about getting to the querying phase, as I still haven't begun to query yet.

Even when we start to find some success, the fear of rejection never really goes away. Will readers love our next book as much as the last one? Will readers even like my debut novel? Will the critics tear it apart? I know when I first started writing my first novel project. I rewrote the first chapter. 13 times!! And that’s because of all the questions and doubts I had in mind. It’s enough to make any writer want to crawl into a hole and never come out.

And the thing is, as writers, we often don't have the same support system that people in other professions might have. We don't have coworkers to commiserate with or a boss to reassure us; it’s just us. Our doubts and the eerie silence of an empty inbox. For example, Ana Neu, one of my all-time favorite Author-Tuber's, has dealt with similar struggles. She’s mentioned several times how lonely she feels and how her family doesn't fully understand her love and passion for writing. And I completely agree with her. If you want to listen to more of her, please listen to her podcast and watch her videos on YouTube here.

So, now that I went over the key reasons as to why writing is so lonely, I didn't want to end this post on negativity, that’s why I wanted to list the main strategies that have helped me:

Build a Writer’s Community

One of the best ways to combat the isolation of writing is to surround yourself with other writers. That’s why I found social media to be a gift, not just for the other obvious reasons, but because we get to find writers around the world who enjoy the same things we like. Having that sense of community can be a game changer.

When I first started my Tumblr blog, TheWriteAdviceForWriters, I was really hoping to create that kind of supportive space for writers. I wanted to create a space where anyone who enjoys writing—not just fiction writers, but anyone who finds writing to be a passion of theirs—can share their dreams and struggles with. It's been amazing to connect with so many incredible people who just “get” the unique challenges we face. Being able to share our achievements and share our compassions. It's been vital for my own mental health as a writer, and I hope that it can also be vital for all of you.

And of course, the community is not about venting or seeking validation from others; its about providing feedback, encouragement, and just being able to make friends. Having that makes the lonely parts of the writing process and journey feel a little less lonely.

Prioritize Self-care

It's so easy to get caught up in the work and neglect our well-being. There have been multiple times where I wouldn't take a break from my writing sessions and simply not eat and drink. I wouldn't give myself time to process everything I wrote, and I immediately after would criticize it.

However, I find that self-care is the most important part of combating the isolation that comes with being a writer. For me, that looks like making sure I get enough sleep. You can't process, learn, and remember anything when you don't have enough sleep. During my personal self-care, when I do 45-to 1-hour writing sessions, I usually take a short nap after. Eating nourishing meals and snacks is important, as is making time for the hobbies and activities that bring me joy. I usually like reading books, spending quality time with my family members, and very feisty (and sometimes scary) cat.

3. Cultivate Gratitude

When loneliness starts to creep in, it can be really helpful to shift our mindset and focus on what we are grateful for; this can be really productive and rewarding. Being a writer is a gift; we get to spend our days doing what we love, bringing our creative visions to life and sharing them with people who love literature. Readers are such a big part of being a writer, and they're huge motivations to me.

So, if you can, just take a moment to appreciate the joys of writing. For example, if you have any writing quirks, I personally have to wear bracelets on both of my wrists in order to produce some type of creativity when I write. I'm not sure why it's just something I noticed. I also really love writing my manuscripts physically. I tend to do this when I'm suffering from writer's block, and for some reason my writing style is a lot better.

And don't forget the many other joys of writing, like drafting, and the excitement of sharing your work with others. Having a new idea come to mind that fits perfectly in your plot. Or even a reader or beta reader sharing a comment on your work and giving you encouragement.

Also, please celebrate your wins; it makes writing all too fun, and it's a great way to integrate writing into the real world.

End Note

I wanted to write this post because I know a lot of us deal with feeling lonely; I’ve been feeling that way for quite some time, and I wanted to share it with Tumblr. I feel like each and every one of you all feel the same way. And that’s why I created my Tumblr community; that's the reason I created this blog, and that's the reason I strive to build this into an entire brand.

I want to bring more awareness to writers, we are the people behind the stories, movies, and media that we consume today, and we barely get any credit for our work. I want to make a brand where others who never thought writing to be their passion could actually for once consider “Is writing for me?”

I feel like it's such an underrated yet overrated passion. Yet it's not acknowledged as much. 

I hope this post can make you understand that writing is 90% lonely and you are not crazy for thinking so. But, we can use the resources we have today, like social media, to change that and make writing better for the present and the future. 

Thank you all for reading. And please, if you are considering joining a community if you haven't already, please join The Write Right Society. We recently met 100 members, and the community is continuing to grow.

[catsfor2]

hit me, pt 1

word ct.: 2.3k, largely unedited gen: boxer!ellie x med student!reader au!!!, reader is a barista, ellie is mean (she has her reasons), reader is a pretty princess femme because i said so, also ellie says dyke (because i said so)(but not in this chapter lol) warnings: swearing/language, age diff (reader is 19 ellie is 23), drug use (alcohol), eventual smut, angst

a/n: this chapter is a kinda slow start, i mostly just wanted write some establishing dialogue type stuff. i want this to be a medium length ish fic. definitely nsfw in the future. i’m also going to (attempt) to have a more organized pov switching order? idk maybe each part switches between ellie and reader or maybe 1 switch per part? idk. lmk what u think. if you like my writing pls interact on this post or even visit my blog to submit a hc, drabble, or fic idea! requests are open

a/n 2: also, thank you sm to everyone who voted on the poll!!! will totally be doing more of those in the future

part 1.5

You were so drunk. Like, so fucking drunk. Legs wobbling and cheeks flushed, an idiot could notice how intoxicated you were. Hanging off of your friends and approaching strangers. A mess, is what you looked like. You'd learned to restrict yourself over the years, as your friends have informed you of all of the humiliating behaviors you exhibit drunk.

You weren't too worried about anything, though. It's your first night drinking in a while—you're up at university now. Rarely do you get to join Dina and her friends by actually consuming the alcohol—you usually just pass. However, tonight, you wanted to get fucked up. You wanted to forget. Fortunately Dina's a good host, and an even better friend. If anyone was going to be holding your hair back at the end of the night, it would probably be her.

The very first thought you had was holy shit, this is not Dina holding my hair. You shouldn't say 'holding', really. Whoever's hand was in your hair was gripping, hard.

"Shut up, you're fine. Here—drink. No, not sip, drink." A voice directs, bringing a cold cup of water to your mouth.

The first sip is disgusting, the stale tastes of alcohol on your tongue washing down your throat.

Oh Christ, is this one of Dina's friends? How do I not remember her? And her...huge shoulders?

"Seriously—fuckin' drink or I'll make you." The same voice says, meaner and harsher. This person talked to you like you were an animal.

The hand that clutches your hair lets go, and surprisingly gently, rakes over your head a few times to smooth it out. You absentmindedly lean into the touch, too far past the threshold to stop yourself.

The hand moves to your nape as you start to drink, cradling. Her fingers just barely reach around the sides of your neck.

You hesitantly gulp about half the glass of water before the brunette puts it back on the counter.

"Ewwww, is that sink water?" You whine, your face scrunching.

"What, it's not good enough for you? You want Fiji? Fuck is the problem?"

Her tone sobers you up for a moment, locking your eyes to the tiles. You couldn't look at someone while they yelled at you.

Slouching on the floor while she hovers over you, you pull the edges of your dress over your folded legs, only just now feeling the bareness. Your hands stay clutched in the fabric.

"Are you done now?" She says. Rudely, you think. She could've meant 'done' with your vomiting or with your complaining, you weren't quite sure.

"Yeah...I think so. Thank you. Um, really, thank you." You try to say, still feeling stuffy and weighted from all the liquor in your system. She looks at you so intensely you turn your head to escape her gaze.

"Dina asked me to." She takes a damp towel and wipes around your face. "Plus you're so drunk it's a fuckin' liability."

"I'm—m'sorry. Who are you? I've never seen you at one of Dina's...things...before, I don't think."

Her hand stills, wet rag still in it. Her eyes hold yours for a moment, closely and intensely, before darting away again.

“Yeah, you haven’t.”

She rolls up her sleeves before wiping over your collarbones and you spot her tattoo. It takes your gaze up the length of her arms, and you simply let your eyes wander over her figure for as long as you want.

"You should probably throw that dress away. Y'got shit all over it now." She states.

Well.

You look down and see that the moisture on your dress has made it completely see through. Your arm moves to drape across your chest to cover your vibrantly patterned bra and your breasts awkwardly spilling out of it.

"Come on, that's jus mean," you complain. "...ignoring me like that. Please, please, pleeease tell me your name..." Your voice is drunken, high-pitched, and definitely annoying. The woman in front of you grimaces.

"No."

"Why not?" You giggle a bit. "I'll tell you mine."

It was kind of your specialty. Annoying people. Her eyebrows shift downwards. No response.

"Hm, ok. I'll ask Dina." You say, a tiny smile trying to break through your face.

"Do it. See if I give a fuck."

"Woooaahhhh, somebody's got a bee in her bonnet! Who peed in your wheaties?"

"You did. And you're at least sixty-fucking-years-old for even saying that," She tosses the rag behind her and puts her hands on her knees to stand all the way up. "y/n."

Your face lights up an in instant. You scramble to your feet.

"How--how do you know mine? But I can't know yours!?"

"Just how it is. I have to go now." She says, throwing her khaki jacket on her back.

"But--hey, hold on, I don't have a ride home anymore! Everyone's left by now!"

"Not my problem. Call your fucking boyfriend or something." She barks, hands now defensively in her pockets.

A laugh promptly bursts out of you, and you impulsively reach out to grasp her shoulder. Your fingers brush over the collar of her jacket.

"O-kay," you quip, "hold on--cause, I don't have a boyfriend, silly," Her eyes bore into yours as your face draws even nearer. "I'm a lesbian..." You whisper giddily, as if it's something only she gets to know.

Her eyes flit away from you as her mouth purses and flattens, like she's contemplating on how to deal with you. In a moment her pupils are locked with yours again.

"Wow, so fucking special, aren't you, princess?" Her last word is a little less bold, less certain than the rest, like it wasn't entirely intentional. You blush, full body and wholeheartedly.

Princess. Princess?

Your grin widens uncontrollably, and you feel yourself giving in to the hazy pleasure of the alcoholic buzz in your blood. Your hands palm your own thighs as you speak.

"Oh...princess? I like that. I've never—I've never been...called that, before. Before now." You breathe out, eyes fluttery and tired.

She didn't snap at you immediately this time. No, instead, she begins to smile. A lazy, smug, confident smile that burns your stomach.

"You're gonna be real fuckin' embarrassed when you remember this tomorrow. Fuckin'—prissy bitch like you acting all shameless."

“You don’t know who I am,” You mutter, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear. "and this? This is not shameless. Do you wanna see shameless? What that actually looks like?" You ask, voice quiet on purpose.

"...No. Fuck no." She denies, that microscopic crack of a smile still evident on her face.

She's very pretty when she smiles. Sooooo pretty.

"You swear way too much, you know that?"

"No, I didn't fucking know that."

Her eyes don't leave yours, like she's waiting for something. Finally, something breaks.

The hand that was resting on the doorknob jiggles it open and she stands in the frame for a moment, just staring. Her compelling eyes force your words out.

"Ok but before you go. One question. Just—just one question.”

"What."

You freeze. What did you want to ask her? You remember it being something about her age.

“Well fucking spit it out. I’m trying to leave.” She urges.

Before you can even recall, another thought appears in your head.

"Okay, okay. Call me princess again? Pleeease? Just once before you go. I don't even want a ride anymore.” You take a glance at the bathroom. “I'll just...sleep… here." You whisper, a little upset thinking about how after this woman leaves, you'll be standing in this bathroom, alone.

"..."

She steps forward, mostly expressionless, pulling up the straps of your dress to cover some cleavage you didn't realize was showing. Your face heats shamefully.

She lets out a sigh.

"Dina has a pull-out in the basement. There's another bathroom down there too if y'need it. Go to bed," Her eyes scan you up and down so quickly you almost miss it. "and finish that glass of water."

With that, the door shuts behind her.

And she's gone.

_____________

You did end up talking to Dina about the person you met last night. Around noon, of course, as you both had slept through the entirety of morning.

"Wait...that's Ellie? Are you fucking serious?!" You clamor, barely comprehending what she’s saying.

The person who helped you out last night knew you, and it also happened to be Ellie. You wanted to hit yourself. Knock yourself out. Be unconscious.

"I thought you knew! She doesn't look that different."

"Dina. I haven't seen her in four years, cut me some slack. And she has like—a whole new energy now. It's....different."

She smirks at you. "...Different?"

"I—yes, different. I know I'm not wrong. I'm not."

The last time you saw Ellie, she was 19 and you were 16. You hadn't come out yet, and hung off of your asshole boyfriend's arm for as long as you could when he was around. Ellie hated the guy. You were insufferable, but Dina must've seen through it enough to befriend you. You’re eternally grateful.

Ellie is a family friend of Dina's, so naturally your paths crossed pretty frequently back then. Until two days before her 20th birthday, when she ran away only with plane tickets and a plan to 'elope' with her girlfriend of three months. They broke up a month later.

You haven't seen her since—excluding last night, of course.

"Oh—oh, fuuuuck. Dina, I know why she was so mean to me last night." Your hands reach up and you drop your face into them.

"She was mean? You didn't say that, the hell?"

"Yes—she was mean, Jesus Dina, keep up. Listen I didn't even recognize her. Like, at all. I kept asking for her fucking name, like, over and over and over again! Oh god, she probably thinks I'm such an asshole." You sulk, rerunning the things you said and did last night in your head.

"Yeah, she totally does."

"No! shut up! You're not helping. How was I supposed to--? She has these arms now, she didn't have those three years ago! And her shoulders? They're so much...wider!" You exclaim, bewildered by this entire situation.

"Hah, ok--"

You cut Dina off.

"And the tattoo, oh my god the tattoo! She's basically unrecognizable!"

"Calm the fuck down, perv. She got a new job three years ago and it just changed her a bit. She does a lot of...physical stuff, now. But she's basically the same, I swear."

"Yeah? Ok. That's...reassuring, I guess..." You say, half truthful. Dina looks at you with something you can't identify. "so...what job."

"Uhhhh—well, not my place to say. You'll...definitely have to ask her. Yourself." Dina winces, trying her best to not let out more info than she should.

"Hm. This is getting...less and less reassuring as you go on. But, thank you Dina."

"So you want her number?" She grins, holding up her phone.

"Are you kidding me." You reject. "I do not text first. You know that."

“You freak, not for that,” Dina shakes her head. “but so you guys can fucking make up and not hate each other, maybe?”

She laughs before getting right on her phone and looking for Ellie's contact.

"I'll just send your number to hers then, jeez."

"No, don't do that either. If Ellie's all upset I couldn't tell who she was, she can be a big girl and tell it to my face. And I don't even care if you tell her I said that. Honestly."

Dina looks up at you. Eyes unmoving and apathetic.

"Both of you are so fucking dramatic. Don't think I'm on your side or her's at this point. I’m completely out of this.”

She throws her phone on the couch before tossing her whole body on it as well. She grabs the remote to turn on the TV.

“Oh shit,” Dina laughs.

“What?”

“Ellie’s gonna fuckin’ flip when she finds out you’re gay now,” Dina says with an acute smile.

I already, accidentally, drunkenly told her. Problem fucking solved, you think.

“Ok? Why’s that?”

“Oh, no reason. Just, pure shock, probably.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” You respond lightly. “…I guess she still pictures the me from highschool, right?”

“Is that your way of asking me if she still hates your ex-boyfriend? Cause yeah, trust me, she does—”

An impeding stream of knocks cut her off. You both whip your heads towards the sound.

The door swiftly opens and in steps Ellie.

Nobody speaks for a few seconds.

“…I have coffee. Thanks for leaving the door unlocked, morons,” Her leg kicks backwards and loudly shuts it. “I hope you get fuckin’ robbed one of these times.”

She walks ahead and hands a hot cup to Dina, and then, to you.

Her thumb rubs along the inside of the carabiner clipped to the loop of her jeans. There’s a smidge of silence before she looks up, only really looking at you.

“I need to show you something.”

And that’s all she says. No context, no elaboration.

“Uh—now?” You question, still in the beat up makeup from last night and hair sticking in all different directions. You couldn’t go out in public like this.

“Uh, yes, now.” She unclips the carabiner and spins it around her pinky. “Let’s go.”

“But what if—what if I have plans?”

“Do you?”

“Well no, but I’d like to at least—”

“Jesus Christ both of you are like this? Here: your hair looks great, your makeup is perfect, your boobs are huge. Can we fucking leave now?” She tells you, completely causing you to forget anything you were saying.

In a moment of panic, you glance at Dina.

Her eyebrows and shoulders only give a limp shrug, as if to say, ‘I don’t know what this is about, but you’re on your own!’

Naturally.

“Yeah, we can leave,” you take a sip of your coffee. “…Ellie.”

The second you say her name, her head is turned to you. Her eyebrows creasing and eyes unwilling to break your gaze. So now you know what the stare was about.

You wonder if your cluelessness last night genuinely hurt her. Made her feel unwanted. Unknown. You felt like shit. You just hope she doesn’t feel similar as you do right now.

She says nothing.

And in that silence, with Ellie cutting in front to get the door for you, you leave.

[solar4seekstron]

Transformers One x Reader: Awakening Chapter Three

Chapter 3: Traitor!

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six

Transformers One x Cybertronian!GN!reader

TW/tags: B being adorable, death (deer robot and primes flashback), tried to add reader in the best I can without changing too much, D loses his shit near the end, 3rd pov, that should be all

(Alright gang it’s time for chapter 3! It was a bit hard for me to add much moments for Y/N and B in this bit because most of the time it didn’t feel right to change certain parts and moments except for the part where the gang is walking. As always I try to add accurate dialogue as I imagine that it’s what the characters would say. Hopefully you all enjoy this and enjoy the reader as you see their character grow and more of their personality and so on. Enjoy.)

Elita starts punching the giant rock next to her.

“Ok so uh this is us. And if we follow the path to-“

“Now you listen to me Mr. Zero seconds since my last accident. I’ll go on your little quest ‘cause I don't have a choice! But I carry the map. I navigate. And if this leads to nothing! Then I’m dragging you and those two idiot GoBots back to Iacon city and into the first supervisor depo we see at which point you will explain everything that has happened using words that reflect me in a very positive light! Got it!!”

“Yeah ok deal all right all right.”

“Lets go!”

B would then follow Elita after look at Orion. Orion looking terrified. As the four walk forward following Elita. Orion was waiting for D first to catch up then starts walking. D admiring their surroundings both curious and confused. Y/N was next to Orion as the two walked forward. Orion would look over at Y/N.

“This is going well. Sorry for bringing you into this. Didn’t plan you two joining.”

”It’s fate at least someone other then D joins you. More then one it seems.”

”Yeah B we just met when Darkwing brought is to one of the sub levels to keep us hidden. B helped us escape and thought of the train once we found the map.”

”Well. He seems pretty nice….Enough.” The two would then start walking once D caught up

”She- She’s joining us? Fantastic! Hi there, uh Elita right? Am I saying that right? Wanted to formally introduce myself. Uh, I’m B-127. You kneed me in the face earlier back there. Uh you-you can call me B or! Badassatron. It’s a nickname sort of what the guys gave me I don’t know. I didn’t give it to myself or anything, it's just-…actually it’s pronounced “Badassatron!!”…In case you were wondering. “Badassatron!!” You like that right?….”Badass-“

“I’m going to need you to talk less.”

“Sure oh yeah no problem. What am I stalking less about? My nickname? That’s fine with me.” Y/N started to walk forward a bit. Giving the two some privacy as they smoke and continues to look at their surroundings. Then joining Elita and B.

“Hey. You’re thinking about what you’ll say when you hand the Matrix to Sentinel aren't you?”

“I can’t help it.”

“D! We’re really doing this.”

“So glad I’m out here with you. This was a great idea.”

The five will continue their journey for what seems like a few hours.

“I’m just having a good time. How much further is the matrix on the map? Make an educated guess that- This is the coolest thing that's ever happened to anyone anywhere I’m telling you! One not two not three, not four but five. Five best friends who are walking through the door- there’s no doors we’re outside.”

Y/N would chuckle finding his humor funny other then the others. They were walking next to B as the others were a bit further.

”B-127 you certainly know how to sing”

”Oh well thank you. You know I just got that talent I guys.”

The two would laugh as Elita rolls her eyes as Orion and D groan until he notices plants from the planet showing again

“Hey look there’s more of it over here.”

Orion would touch the planet life coming out of the ground.

“What is it?”

“It’s not metal.”

“Like some kind of uhh weird nature. It’s weird.”

“So are they.” Soon seeing robot deers

They all then hear a loud noise

“What was that?”

“Uhm I think this is not right, we should go.” Orion seeing dust past him and the deers running the direction they were headed

“Yeah, good idea. “ The five start running getting to what seems like an abandoned town

“Run!”

“What are we running from?”

“What is that!?”

A ship will show itself

“Oh no. It’s a Quintesson ship!”

“What!”

“Oh that ain’t right!!!”

“What do we do? What do we do?”

“Shh. Quiet.”

Soon the five have their backs against a wall. Orion, D, Y/N, B, And Elita all looking up at the sky confused and scared. The five would then see one of the deers running and soon the poor deer was hit with something that caused it to explode. Elita was the one to grab Y/N’s hand after they tripped for a second and kept running

“It’s scanning for lifeforms. Move! Move!”

They soon start running

“Go go go.”

D, Y/N and Elita are able to make to a spot where the structure over them of the town can block the scanners above them.

“Come on! They’re not gonna make it!” Y/N trys to step forward wanting to help them but D and Elita would put their hand on Y/Ns shoulder and chest stopping them as the three watched.

Orion then grabs B by just stopping him as they stay under something that keeps the scanners from detecting them. B soon falling on his knees once they pass. Soon the ship will leave

“What- what were they searching for?”

“Someone to hug B. How should I know?” Y/N hits Ds arm with your fist

“I’m not waiting around to find out.”

“This way we’re close.”

“Quintessons haven’t been for 50 cycles.”

“It doesn’t make sense! There’s nothing out here.”

”What ever they’re looking for can’t be up here!…I hope.”

They soon make it to a cave. Climbing to an unpleasant entrance.

“A cave with teeth. Nothing scary about that.”

They start walking forward. B staying close to Y/N as the two look at the eachother scared and unsure

“Knives coming out of the ceiling. Everyone, do we have to go- ok yep we’re going in. Why shouldn’t we? Just walking into the scariest place I’ve ever seen in my entire life. Not ridiculous.”

They continue to walk until they see a sight that causes them to have to stop for a moment

“I don't believe it…”

“The Primes…”

“We’re here.”

”It’s…..really them..”

The five then start walking deeper in the cave. Elita looking at the body of Solus Prime. D. Walking to the head of Megatronus Prime. Kneeling down as he puts his hand on it. Soon looking angry. Orion looks at Zeta Primes body soon kneeling down before him. Y/N walks to Vector Primes body. Taking a knee and bowing their head to him

“Megatronus Prime…..”

“Zeta Prime….The Matrix?…It’s gone.”

“Lets keep looking.”

“Hey guys!”

Soon the five find rocks pilled together making something that was big and after removing them it’s revealed to be Alpha Trion

“It’s Alpha Trion.”

“He’s powered down, but his spark is still lit.”

B would then give Orion a small cube. Orion puts it in Tyrion’s mouth. He soon awakens and the five step back scared

“Message before!”

“Whoah whoah it’s ok! It’s ok. You’re safe now. The war is over.”

Trion would then stand up and make his way to Zetas body as he held his chest.

“I’ve failed you. Old friend. You deserved so much better than this end.”

“No you didn’t fail. We heard your message. We’ve come to find the Martrix-“

“Your transformation cogs- what happened to you? Who are you?”

“We’re cogless miners. From Iacon.”

“Miners? Why?”

“Well we’d have to drill for energon ever since it stopped flowing.”

“Impossible.”

“That’s why we came to fix things. If we find the Matrix of Leadership and get it to Sentinal Prime he sai-“

“Sentinel Is No Prime!”

“WHAT!?”

“He’s broken. Frantastic.” D and Y/N say looking at eachother thinking the same thing as they look back at Trion.

“What are you talking about? Why would you say that?”

“Sentinel Prime is our protector. He’s been saving us from the Quintessons ever since the-“

“You have not been saved. You’ve been living a lie. I saw the truth with my own eyes. Come. I will show you.”

“For thousands of cycles the war with the Quintessons have been a brutal conflict. Until sentinel, the principled aid to the primes. Intercepted an enemy transmission. There was going to be a secret gathering of Quintesson commanders. Their intermission would end the war. It was a mission so important. We primes took it on ourselves. We agreed to meet sentinel for his sensitive intel. In Secret. Here in this Cave. But we were Not Alone.”

The five would watch as the vision of the primes from the sands move around them

“We were outnumbered but stood as One. Our Victory was Near!” The primes continue to fight until one of them, was stabbed from behind

“Until we were Betrayed.”

It then shows sentinel stabbing one of the primes through the back and soon makes his way to the other primes. Shooting Solus Prime. Decapitating Megatronus head. Then shooting Zeta Prime causing him to fly back. Making the four scared and prepare for impact as he appears to fall on them and slides back a bit.

“Sentinel….why…”

“For all the power of Cybertron.”

“But sentinel never understood the true power of what he desired. The Matrix of Leadership can only be wielded by one that Primus himself deems worthy. And sentinel most certainly was not.”

Orion and D watched. Orion with fear and D with anger. Orion would fall on his knees

“Wai- ho- hold on. Yo-you’re saying that the Matrix of Leadership just vanished?”

“No. No no no no. That is impossible. I don’t believe it.”

“Why would sentinel do that?”

“To make a bargain.”

“A bargain? With who?”

“With the new rulers of Cybertron.”

“Quintessons..”

“There are so many.”

The five would see many ships and then one over them as it heads to an open area. The biggest taking center stage. Y/N would kneel between Elita and B as they all watched to see what’ll happen

“He’s here! Sentinel prime is here!”

Sentinel and the other guard are seen flying and soon land in front of the ships. Transforming. The Quintessons solders soon start marching out of the ship getting in line on both sides before their leader

“Keep your eyes open.”

“They always are.”

The master and one of the leaders floats out. Soon sentinel is seen kneeling as the others behind him do the same. The four gasp quietly from what they just saw. He would then look back and nod. The boxes in the trainsf float and then open.

“I load those crates. Those are filled with contaminated metal.”

“I don't understand. What do the Quintessons want with toxic waste?”

“Our energon!”

“Traitor!’’

“D no.”

“I know what I promised you. But our mines. They’re running out. There’s barely enough energon for us.”

“I swear I will get you the rest.”

“Triple time every mining shift. No miner gets a break until I get my energon. All of it! Lets go!”

From there the Quintessons leave and so does sentinel and the other guards. B let out a sigh and looked down showing to be pretty scared as Elita goes to leave. Y/N noticed this and puts their hand over Bs hand. Comforting him and giving a gentle smile. B would then look down with a bit of a frown and follow Elita after. Orion would then leave back into the cave with the others while D stayed for a bit longer still processing what he just witnessed. Y/N stay down a bit as the three would pass them. Seeing D they come next to them, putting their hand in his arm. When he looked at them he saw their expression was anger. They are just as mad as he is looking at the ships then down. Then they look at D as the two stare at each other. Nothing knowing that each other are very, very upset of what they just witnessed.

“Now you have seen the truth.”

“Everyday…every single day of my life has been a lie.”

“My god I knew it! Deep down I always felt something was off!”

“He deceived everyone.”

“Sentinel bought himself power and then put us to work. Paying off his debt.”

“I can’t believe it. Well obviously I can believe it I just saw it. But I still…I can’t believe it.”

“Sentinel..lied…to my face.”

“He lied to all of our faces! To believe we were protected. To believe we had hope and dreams of a future with no worry of the enemy. No! Gone now. Now that the truth is out.” They would then get a big rock close by. But it not creating any pain or anything to them

“It was all a sham. How could we have been so gullible? Oh this. This is going to change everything.”

“You just had to do it, didn’t you?”

“Me? What did I do?”

“You just had to go to the surface. Head into the Iacon 5000. You just had to break protocol.”

“Who cares about protocol?”

“I do! I care! Because nothing ever happens when you stay on protocol!”

“Sentinel prime has been forcing us to work in the mines until our gears strip! And all the while he’s been giving the energon away to our greatest enemies!”

“And what do you think he’s going to do when he finds out that we know?”

“I’m not thinking about what he’s going to do. I’m thinking about what we’re going to do.”

“Well that’s the whole thing! You’re never thinking about anything else! Just yourself! Fantastic! Another Orion Pax master plan! I can’t wait to hear this!”

“Hey don’t you want to stop him?”

“No, I want to kill him! I want to put sentinel in chains and march him through the mines so everyone can see him for the false prime that he is! I want him to suffer then to die in darkness! But we all know that it doesn't matter what I want right Pax? The fact is we’re just cogless bots, right? We had limited options. And now, now we have non.” Y/N would look down. Getting deep in their thoughts as their hands tighten out of anger

“No son or daughter of Cybertron is born without a cog.”

“Oh yeah, I have been with myself since I came online and this slots always been empty!”

“So what are you saying?”

“No, no way. Nobody can be that evil. Not even sentinel.”

“He removed your cogs before you came online.”

“We were born with transformation cogs. But he-..he-“

“He took them from us.”

“OH so he has not only made us work since the moment we wake up. But he is the reason he are fragile and insignificant to the rest of Cybertron!”

Y/N chuckled a bit at first before speaking. Elita looking at them a bit surprised as she put her hand on their chest when they tried to step forward towards Trion. B putting his hand on their arm. Elita never saw Y/N this upset before

“What defines a transformer-hmm..Is not the cog in his chest but the spark that resides in their core. A spark that gives you the will to make your world better. My fellow primes had that spark and I see their strength in you. Take their cogs and access your full potential. Prima. Onyx. Alchemist. Mircronus. Vector. Warriors of noble spirit. Loyalty, Strength, Their uniqueness enhanced by you.”

From there the cogs inside the Primes float out of their chests making their way as the five float and the cogs go into their chests. Transforming them to full Cybertronians

“They were one. You are one. All are one.”

The four would and on their feet and see they have changed

“Wait we- have- you-you gave us-“

“The ability to change your world. How you choose to use that power is up to you.”

Orion would look up at Alpha Trion was hope and joy in his eyes. D doing the same once he looked at Trion as well. Orion turning back to look at B first as B laughs excited. Elita and D looking at each other excited full with pride. Orion soon turning back again to look at the two. Y/n looking at their self as barely has any words. B and Orion look at them with large smiles on their faces excited. Y/N doing the same as they too cheer.But the moment is cut short when the four soon hears a loud rumble.

Hope you all enjoyed and hope to see you for the next chapter!

Next chapter will be released on Friday Nov. 1st

[the-bitter-ocean]

( ACT 3/ ACT 4 SPOILERS) This is part 6 of the many responses/ dialogue options I wrote for the conversation that Rewind and Mirabelle have on what Rewind’s identity truly is. To understand the full context you can find the original post here. Writing is under the cut:

{{ “So I suppose you must have a lot of questions for me don’t you? Theories as to who I might be?”}}

{ You do. You can’t help but feel overwhelmed by all of this.}

{{ “Let’s make this like a game so you can get to know me a little better. How’s that sound hm?”}}

{You nod slowly, still unsure.}

{{ “You get one guess for this so pick whatever feels right in your heart.”}}

{One guess?}

{Something about the way Riri speaks to you feels familiar. }

{ Someone dependable and willing to help you even in the most dire of circumstances. }

{ Someone who’s shown to care for you deeply over the course of this whole ordeal and in turn you have done the same for them as well. }

=> { You’re one of my allies. }

{“.. Are you.. Um. one of my allies ?”}

{Riri stares at you confused.}

{{“Which ally of yours do you think I am, Plum? I’m curious” }}

{ Rewind is….}

=> { Siffrin.}

=> { Isabeau. }

=> { Odile.}

=> { Bonnie. }

=> { Siffrin.}

{“… Um well.. maybe Siffrin?”}

{Riri confusion grows even more. She shakes her head}

{{“Mmm..Why’d you say that?”}}

{“.. We’ll you’re so mysterious .. and uhm you make fun of me sometimes, but it doesn’t feel like it’s meant to be in a mean way?”}

{“You seem so..nonchalant? Like you’ve seen it all before.. and well that’s the type of way Siffrin was when I asked him for help on the journey so..it just makes sense?”}

{“I don’t know. It just reminded me of them was all.”}

{Riri goes quiet. She’s lost in thought.}

{{ “..I remind you of your Rogue? For that reason..? That’s very..”}}

{She sighs clearly wanting to say something more, as if to correct you but brightens up in tone again}

{{ “Silly of you! I tease you because you just have the personality that makes it so easy for me to do!”}}

{{“You’re so adorable, don’t you know that?”}}

{Riri gently boops you on the nose. }

{You sulk.}

{{“..You guessed wrong. Sorry Plum!”}}

—————————————————————————————————

(ALTERNATE RESPONSES)

{Rewind is….}

=> { Siffrin.}

=> { Isabeau. }

=> { Odile. }

=> { Bonnie. }

=> {Isabeau.}

{“…Are you Isabeau?”}

{Riri confusion grows even more. She shakes her head}

{{“Wh- Huh?! You think I’m your Fighter? For what reason?”}}

{“.. Well you’re like really uplifting if that makes any sense? It seems like you just know how to cheer me up before I even could begin to tell you if I was upset. ”}

{“.. Isabeau is really good at that sort of thing. Plus you look.. really stylish? Ah in hindsight it’s probably a stupid answer, sorry.”}

{“I don’t know. It just reminded me of them was all.”}

{{“…No, I’m not your Fighter.”}}

{{“As cute as it is that you think I’m anything like him, it’s not true.”}}

{{“I think that even someone who excels at Changing like him… would have a hard time changing into something like me.”}}

{ What’s that supposed to mean-}

{{“Anyway you guessed wrong. Sorry Plum!”}}

—————————————————————————————————

{Rewind is….}

=> { Siffrin. }

=> { Isabeau. }

=> { Odile. }

=> { Bonnie. }

=> {Odile.}

{“…Are you Madame Odile?”}

{Riri confusion grows even more. She shakes her head}

{{“….? You think I’m your Mage? Why?”}}

{“.. You just.. seem to be really knowledgeable about a lot of things and you’re very..reflective?”}

{“You get really quiet sometimes- like you’re thinking of a bigger picture that I couldn’t even begin to understand, y’know?”}

{“..Madame is really good at planning strategies and figuring out the best ways to solve a problem, kind of like what you do when you talk with me.”}

{“I don’t know. It just reminded me of her was all.”}

{{“…Hm. That’s awfully sweet of you to say but no! I’m not your Mage.”}}

{{“If I was anywhere near as smart as her, I’d have solved both of our problems regarding this whole time loop business by now.”}}

{ “Huh? Wait but-“}

{{“Anyway! I hate to say it but you guessed wrong. Sorry Plum!”}}

—————————————————————————————————

{Rewind is….}

=> { Siffrin.}

=> { Odile. }

=> { Isabeau.}

=> { Bonnie. }

=> { Bonnie.}

{“…Are you Bonnie?”}

{Riri confusion grows even more. She shakes her head}

{{“..?! You think I’m B-..Your Apprentice?”}}

{Rewind looks at you dumbfounded.}

{ Rewind puts a hand over where their hypothetical mouth would be, if she had one and laughs at you.}

{{“Do you really think I’m that childish?”}}

{“Wh- NO!! Not like that at all!!”}

{“You’re just hard to read. N-Not in a bad way!”}

{“I don’t know why.. but I get the feeling you’re trying really hard to not get close to me?”}

{“.. But I don’t think you hate me either. It’s clear you care a lot about me and want to help me. So it’s just a little confusing on where I stand with you.”}

{“..Bonnie gets like that too sometimes. They want to help however they can in their own unique way even if they can be stubborn about it.”}

{“I don’t know. It just reminded me of them was all.”}

{Rewind looks away from you.}

{{“That’s a very strange conclusion for you to reach.”}}

{{“No, I’m not your Apprentice.”}}

{{Rewind puts on a sing songy tone as she speaks.}}

{{“I’ll have you know I’m an adult, thank you!”}}

{{“I consider it a good thing… im thankful that I’m not your apprentice.”}}

{{“I don’t want to even think about the possibility of someone that young being in my..”}}

{{“…”}}

{…?}

{“Being in your what-“}

{{“Moving on now! Point is, your guess was wrong. Sorry Plum!”}}

[seeker-ophelia]

Ophelia Rants: Veilguard is Weird

I had another post (Review, Pt 4) composed about how much I love dragons, but the AMA kinda knocked me on my ass.

* * *  

[INTRO]

* * *  

I’m going to share the image I made collected from the results of my survey:

And while everyone only contributed one word for this, it IS possible for Veilguard to be ALL OF THESE THINGS AT ONCE.

Now. We need to take this with a grain of salt and remember that most of these responses came from tumblr, and often ones Social Media Frens are an echo chamber of ones own thoughts.

The words that repeat over and over are all similar; sanitized, shallow, underwhelming, trimmed, incomplete… Fun But Not Dragon Age.

And I could not agree with this more.

Caitie (YT: Ghil Dirthalen BS: Ghil Dirthalen), (Mythal’enaste her and her data-mining efforts) has released so much information from Datamining Veilguard. So much dialogue not used, paths ignored or forgotten, Keep choices abandoned, Lore identified.

Flipping through the Art Book shows how much time and effort and ideas have been put into DA4; all of its iterations. All the creativity, the different worlds, the different possible paths. YEARS of work, abandoned.

Which feels soooo… opposite. I’m not a writer. What’s the word for a complete opposite dichotomy in all things? Contradictory? Inconsistent? Irreconsilable? Antithesis?

How can Dragon Age be Sanitized and Shallow… but so much work be put into it?

* * *

[OPINION]

* * *

After I removed my emotional connection from Dragon Age, IMO, it really does feel like something is missing from this game. Even if one tries to lay down their preconceptions of what the game might have been in their dream world, this game, to me, could not decide what it wanted to be. Narratively, it’s a sequel to Inquisition. Solas’s story matters from Inquisition, the Inquisitor matters from Inquisition… and yet it spends so much time onboarding new players. The story feels simple, the world is straightforward, like its dumbed down for players new to the series.

Inquisition, even though in a gameplay sense it is different from Origins and 2, still feels like its building off of a complex world that the player might not understand. And when I played Inquisition, I hardly understood any of it. That’s part of the joy of Dragon Age. People who read LotR or Malazan or WoT or ASOIAF, don’t expect the author to hold their hand. They’re dumped, unceremoniously, into a world, and they have to figure it out themselves (figure it out through strategically placed tidbits from the author). Dragon Age (O through I), was a masterclass in this, I think. Somehow, no matter how deep you want to dive into the game, whether just playing superficially one-and-done, or playing it over and over to capture as much lore and depth as you can, Origins through Inquisition does that. It gives you just enough crumbs to keep you going, keep you questioning, and to point you enough in the right direction, that when you DID get a lore reveal right, you felt GOOD. Yes, plot-twists and subverting expectations are important, but so is letting your audience figure things out, giving them concrete answers. Veilguard drops you, sure, literally in Minratheous into a Gods Magic Ritual. But then it takes your hand, and skips with you through beautiful landscapes, phenomenal level design, and whirlwind combat, to place you right in front of the information you need. And then gives you a cutscene explaining, just in case you didn’t get it 😉).

We, as fans, need to realize that while the Personality of Veilguard is Toothless, the Lore, The Skeleton, is not.

Yeah, Epler said some things that hurt my feels during the AMA. (I’m ignoring the Solas stuff, because I really do believe Epler is speaking from a personal bias and not from a cannon-perspective. [edit: he just talked bout this on BlueSky]) But do you know why? Because they broke my personal headcannons. They proved MY theory crafting wrong. The real problem with Veilguard is that it came out too late. 10 years is too long to have people care so much about a game and theorize and craft worlds for themselves.

* * *

[LORE]

* * *

Superficially, VG dropped a lot of lore. But Deeply? To the DA Lore-Core? I don’t think they dropped ENOUGH.

[Image Credit: Helena Hansen on ArtStation]

HOW did Soals cleanse the dagger? HOW can Elgy & Ghill control the blight? HOW do they control their archdemons? HOW does the veil work? (How can it be weak with Elgy & Ghilly holding it up but 100%-strong-no-holes-perfectly-good with only Solas providing power for it?) HOW do spirits work? HOW do souls work? WHATS the difference? HOW does a Dragon-thrall-bond work? WHY isn’t Lusacan a Great Dragon? HOW does the rite of tranquility work? WHAT happens to Solavellan in the Fade? Is it different from what happens to a tricked Solas in the fade? WHAT happens now to Hawke/Stroud in the fade? WHAT is an orb? WHAT is a cube? WHATS the difference? WHERE is The Black City? WHAT is the ‘real blight’? (Because according to VG Solas, it’s still in the prison and its still super dangerous and way more dangerous than the blight that’s out in Thedas.) HOW did Solas burn his Vallaslin off? WHAT is the Calling? WHAT is the NEW song in the calling? WHY did ‘Mythal speak the calling’? WHY does lyrium sing? How is lyrium mined? WHY can tranquil work lyrium safely? HOW did Dirth & Falon split? WHY did Dirth & Falon split? WHERE are the rest of the Evanuris? WHERE is the Abyss? WHAT is the Abyss? WHAT do you MEAN there was more than 8 Evanuris?? HOW did you make your lyrium bodies? HOW can Elgar’nan destroy a FEELING?

WHERES MY ELVHEN DICTIONARY.

Obviously not ALL. But SOME of these NEEDED to be answered, or at least strongly alluded to, IN GAME. NOT in an AMA.

“We're leaving that ambiguous on purpose…”

“We haven't been SUPER specific about this…”

“I'm so glad these stories have their hooks in you! We have to leave some threads to tug on for future stories.”

What DID get answered in game?

Some of the Evanuris hats. Archdemons/Old Gods = Evanuris. Solas (w/ Mythal?) tranquil’d the Titans. Solas (accidentally) created the Blight. Solas used a Blood Magic Ritual to create the veil. Solas regrets a lot of things & has mommy issues. Worm-Solas (which, do not get me wrong, a million thank you’s and blessings for werm-Solas… But…) That’s it. That’s IT?

Oh, and there’s a shadow organization that’s been pulling all the strings from behind the scenes but I am NOT getting into how much I hate that idea in this post we don’t have time. Do we? No, we don’t. You know what, fuck it. This is my blog. Once you introduce that idea there is no way anyone NOT the author can know how much sway the puppeteer has over the marionette. ‘Oh it’s just a nUdGe, just a *whisper,* ‘they still have their free will’. Bitch get fucked what does that MEAN. That doesn’t MEAN anything its just a lazy retcon-y way to tie in a new villain to old material. Completely erasing the autonomy of they characters your fanbase has come to love (and love to hate). Do not corporate-speak at me with synergy and circle-back and deliverables. WHAT is a WHISPER? WHAT is a NUDGE? Because unless you lay it all out in an ELI5, NO ONE CAN KNOW- EXCEPT FOR YOU.

Ok obviously I have feelings about that we need to move on.

You can argue Veilguard was about the Evanuris, you can argue that Veilguard was about Solas. You can argue that Veilguard was about Regret and Pride and letting it all go. You can argue that Veilguard was about the ~*Power of Friendship*~ But for me, who has been obsessed with whatever the ever-loving-fuck has been going on in Thedas since 9.30 Dragon, Veilguard is about the Blight.

Corrine from the AMA: What really captures my imagination now that we've resolved some of the mysteries pertaining to the blight and the Elven gods, is exploring the aftermath of this crisis in a deeply destabilized Thedas.

Sorry… What did you answer? We actually know nothing about the Blight except that Solas created it, and with Antonie and Evka claiming the song has changed… what does that mean? Is a Titan consciously controlling the blight now? Is it soothed because Harding Soothed it? Is all the blight from the Kal-Sharok Titan? Are all their orbs/cubes in the Black City? Do the Executors control the blight? What is a calling, then? Will the Wardens never be called to the deep roads again? The Blight is different in a Warden than it is in a darkspawn, or an Archdemon? How? WHY? The wardens are just going to fade from existence because… all the darkspawn are just going to disappear now? Where in game is this stated as truth? Actually, in fact, ZERO questions were answered.

But Wait…

I feel like the news of the AMA COMPLETELY overshadowed the two IGN articles that came out; 1 & 2. Because… holy shit you guys. There was A LOT of lore dropped here.

Unfortunately for Epler & Corrine, and this is a hill I will die on, ALL OF THIS SHOULD HAVE BEEN ANSWERED IN GAME. The fact that it was NOT? Is inexcusable. You cannot drop giant lore reveals like this outside of the game and hope it smooths everything over. The lore dropped in these interviews could have been a DLC, a side quest in game, or at the very least a novel or WoT Vol 3.

* * *

[What IS Dragon Age?]  

* * *

I've used this photo before and I'll use it again I fucking love it so much

I wish Veilguard came out a year later, I would have waited longer, paid more for it, if it was a more a whole, inclusive game.

The problem with dumbing down a pre-existing franchise is that you’re alienating the fans that are carrying you on their shoulders. They carried you through a game-less 10 years, and through Andromeda. And you can bet your ass when they drop you, the new fans you roped in with VG are not going to be picking you up.

Dragon Age feels like it cannot find its identity. That Veilguard, inexplicably, does not feel like Dragon Age.

“But how can you explain what Dragon Age feels like when every Dragon Age that came before it was so different?”

New Protagonists, new companions, new locations, everything is different. On top of more meta things; new gameplay, new combat, new art styles, its all different.

So what makes Dragon Age, Dragon Age?

Well, when I was nervous about the game back in September, I asked Kala, when she got pre-access to the game, if she FELT anything.

“I’d love for you to touch on how the game made you FEEL… Did anything you played in Veilguard make you Feel™?”

She sent me a private message with 1 word: Yes.

We can go into the design decision to have the companions react with each other instead of Rook and how that can be alienating to the PC. We can talk about how shafted the romances were. We can go into how gentrified Minrathous and the Crows were. We can go into how child-locked the lore was. We can discuss the toothless-ness of Veilguard.

But Veilguard still made me Feel.

And, even if that emotion is anger, if Veilguard made you Feel, it did it’s job.

[its-time-to-write]

I AM RUSHING TO GET THIS IN!!!

Friends to lovers maybe with a disabled reader?? Maybe she's someone he knew from back home who he runs into at a diner she's working at now. Maybe she feels like he abandoned her and her life fell apart when he moved away?

ANyway love you lots!!!

warning: there’s a lot of parentheses (it’s a choice) and a lot of swearing (I do what I want)

reader’s dialogue/feelings are based off my own experiences so if u read this and are like ??? don’t worry about it. i’m just projecting. the chronic illness is unspecified.

LOVE U BABE

you’ll probably date her

It’s hard enough growing up in a council estate in a shit part of Manchester (although you’d staunchly defend there’s no such thing as a shit part of Manchester) but it’s harder with fucking chronic illness. It manifests is clumsiness (joint pain), fidgeting (widespread pain), and bruising (skin problems).

Not to mention the fucking tiredness.

School is complete shit all the time, and life is complete shit all the time too. 

Okay fine, not all the time, but a lot of the time.

There are bright spots in between flare ups, bright spots that consist of learning how to bake with Simon (Jamie’s stepdad) and petting Roy (Jamie’s cat) and watching horribly cheesy movies with Georgie (Jamie’s mum).

Oh, and Jamie. 

You’ve known Jamie since birth, probably, when your mum brought you home and Jamie sat down on the saggy couch, aged two, and asked, “When does it open its eyes?”

He took it upon himself to look after you, magnanimous in a way he would not have been if you were actually related to him (thank god). When he starts to get tired of you, he can go back home to his own room and his own mum and hug her tight without having to share her with anyone else.

When you’re three and he’s five, you get a diagnosis. Jamie says, “That’s shit,” when your mum tells him you can’t play, and you’re told that you echo him with your first swear. 

“That’s shit,” comes your tiny voice from the sofa, face down and covered in bags of frozen peas.

Your mum is too surprised by the first words you’ve said all day, that she a) doesn’t scold you and b) doesn’t catch Jamie as he slips by her into the house. He sits on the floor and starts to tell you about primary school and helps your mum when it’s time to put the peas back in the slightly-broken freezer.

It goes like that for years. 

When you’re feeling well, you kick a football around with Jamie. When you’re feeling poorly, he climbs the steps to your room and tells you things, anything at all to distract you from the pain ripping through your body.

It’s nice. It makes you feel, like, someone cares, almost? Or someone understands? Or maybe the world isn’t carrying on without you, that a piece of it does stop when you do, and maybe you aren’t entirely alone.

You first realize you like Jamie (like-like) when you’re twelve and it feels like ice-cold water has been poured on your head, but not exactly in an unwelcoming way.

A shock, sure, but a soothing one.

You don’t tell him, but you think he probably knows. He’s not an idiot, he’s had girls swooning all over him since he was eight. 

(And your mum knows, and she and Georgie talk, and Georgie tells Jamie to be extra nice to you and maybe a little bit careful not to be mean about it.)

He carefully slips on your small bed when you’re fifteen and he’s sixteen (almost seventeen, but it’s the one time of the year when you’re only a year apart) and balances on his side so he can look at you.

“You’ll be alright?” he asks, and you don’t have to ask what he’s talking about.

He’s going to play for Manchester (City, not United, and not the Premier League Team), and it’s all you’ve been able to think about.

You don’t say anything, so he gingerly pats your head. It messes up your hair, but it also feels like tiny electric sparks are shooting through your body (not the pain kind).

He lays there for a long time, whispering about secondary school and football and making enough money to buy houses for everyone he’s ever loved, you included.

(He promises he’ll call all the time.)

—

He does call, until he doesn’t.

Some days are good, some days are bad, and now the bad days feel like they’re your fault.

“You’re overdoing it,” your boss says, “You need to slow down or you’ll be out sick tomorrow.”

You bite back the words I’m doing my fucking best, and just nod. Fuck him, and fuck this. You can work just the same as everyone else, pain be damned. There are fucking bills to pay and yeah, this shit hurts, but what the fuck are you supposed to do. Benefits aren’t enough at the moment, and it’s been a solid two years since you’ve given up on waiting for a knight in shining armor (even if that knight is in the Premier League now, just like he always swore he’d be).

Your boss is fucking right the fucker, but you push through on Friday (it’s fucking shit) and crash on Saturday (it’s even more fucking shit).

Your mum places bags of frozen fruit on your joints, rearranging the pillows on the floor. You’ve long since outgrown the couch, instead needing more space. Your dad moved the coffee table, saying, “It’s on its last legs anyway,” and the space you called a living room now became a treatment room of sorts.

Georgie and Simon come over all the time for family dinner (potluck-style) and they are comfortable enough step over you or sit down on the floor to talk.

It sounds worse than it is, but when they’re in the flat it feels better, all warm and glowy, like things are right.

Nights are the worst, with the moving around trying to get comfortable, so you’re awake bright and early on Sunday morning. Early enough to sit on a bench in front of the estates, bundled up in your duvet and puffing cold air out into the sky.

You hear footsteps splashing down the tunnel, someone on their way home after a long night. Or maybe it’s one of the many kids who like to sneak out to play footie in hopes that they’ll be the next Jamie Tartt.

He’s not that great, you want to tell them, except you don’t even believe it yourself. He is that great, he’ll always be that great, and you should have fucking known that he was going to fuck off and fuck a gorgeous, carefree model and not you. 

(Not that you want to fuck him. Well, you do, but you also want to, like, hold his hand.)

It was always going to end up this way, you should have known not to actually have real feelings for him, you should have left it at a childhood crush and not let yourself believe something could actually happen.

The footsteps pass you by, and it’s a man in a baseball hat and an awful silk-print tracksuit carrying a Gucci travel bag.

He’s out of place here, and you wonder if he’s lost. But no, he strides up to Georgie and Simon’s door like he owns the place, pulls out a key, and walks right in. It’s only after the door swings shut behind him that you realize it’s Jamie.

“Oh shit,” you whisper, clouds accompanying the words.

(You won’t admit it, but the surprise has rebooted your system a little bit, aching limbs forgotten for a moment.)

—

“This is shit,” you say as you lean on your fucking cane of all things. “It’s one thing if it’s Simon and Georgie, it’s another fucking thing if it’s Jamie fucking Tartt.”

“That’s a lot of fucking fucks,” your father says sagely, ignoring the glare you send his way and saying ow as your mum swats the back of his head.

“It’s only two fucks and one shit,” you tell him. “And I’m not going.”

“Then I’ll tell them to come over here,” your mum says placidly. 

Absolutely not. Also-fucking-lutely not.

“I am going to my room,” you say with dignity, turning to go back up the stairs.

Your dad waves, the prick. “Have fun,” he says helpfully. You flip him off without looking, and you know for a fact he’s doing it back. You know he’ll be up in an hour with a plate of dinner and sneak you early desert.

There is no fucking way you’re seeing Jamie after two years like this.

The cane is a relatively new development and sure, it’s helpful with walking sometimes, but a cane? The fuck were the doctors thinking when they suggested this? You’re barely twenty, not a damn convalescent. 

By the time you make it to your room, the doorbell’s ringing and voices are filling the flat. You reach for your bottle of pills and carefully tap the right amount into your hand (even though you know there is no drug on earth to calm down your traitor heart).

You lay down flat on your back with no immediate plans to move. You find your playlist and slip an earbud in, letting the music take you somewhere else. Somewhere where you don’t hurt for no reason, where you can focus like you’re supposed to, where you aren’t so damn tired all the time.

There’s a tap on your door.

“Come in,” you call to your dad, except the door opens and it’s Jamie, no longer in his stupid outfit from earlier, but in a nice jumper that you think might be Simon’s.

He smiles like he didn’t abandon you and sits down on the floor. You hand him the other earbud (it’s better than talking) and let Stevie Nicks croon in your ear.

“How’ve you been?” he asks (the prick) and you have half a mind to ignore him. 

“It’s been two years,” you remind him. “Try again.”

Jamie looks stricken. “Right, yeah, I know, it’s just- I’ve been busy.”

“Yup,” you reply. “Me too.”

(The cane is leaning on the wall by the door, and you need Jamie to not notice it.)

Jamie points to the cane. “That’s new.”

“Yep,” you say because it’s not the same as yup. It has a different vowel. It’s a different word, you’re having a civil conversation, your brain is making sentences just fine.

“I’m sorry,” he says. He sounds like he means it, which is worse. “I went through some shit, you know? It don’t excuse it, but… got a new gaffer, Keeley dumped me, then I got sent back to City right when I were getting better. It’s been shit. I’ve been shit,” he corrects.

Your arm’s falling asleep so you shift, trying to stifle a groan.

Jamie’s up in a moment, all concern. “You alright?”

“Clearly,” you gasp out as savagely as possible. “Fuck off, alright? I don’t need your pity, not now, so go find some other charity case.”

Fucking flare-ups. Fucking Jamie. Fucking chronic illness and its fucking lack of a cure.

Jamie looks like he’s been slapped. To be fair, you would if you could get in the right position.

“You’re not charity,” he says, and unfortunately (and again) he sounds like he fucking means it.

“Okay,” you say. “That’s fucking mint. Thanks for staying such a good friend all these years, it’s been real fucking fun. I’ve got to lie here in discomfort, so I imagine you’ll be leaving now. Goodbye.”

Jamie stares at you a moment, then leaves.

—

It’s a good day. It’s a good day and it’s raining and you don’t even care because it’s a good day. Nothing can ruin it (this isn’t a premonition) not even stupid Jamie showing up out of nowhere.

(It’s a little bit of a premonition.)

“I’m sorry,” is the first thing he says when he turns up in his mum’s kitchen, an hour before he’s supposed to be home. You’re supposed to be long gone by now, but you and Simon have cheese pinwheels in the oven that aren’t done for another twenty minutes, so now you’re stuck here until then.

“Fucking mint,” you say, just like the night before. Simon freezes but Georgie just rolls her eyes. 

“We’ll be in the other room, loves,” she says. “Jamie, don’t be a fucking idiot.”

You tell him, “I’m having a good day, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t fucking ruin it.”

“You’re not a charity case,” he says, and you think maybe he is broken, but like a record is broken, not like a teacup.

Jamie says, “I weren’t lying about going through shit,” and you snap (like a rubber band, not a bone).

“Big fucking deal, Jamie, you’ve been going through shit since you were six years old. I’ve been going through shit too, in case you didn’t fucking notice. It’s not an excuse to be a shitty person or a shitty friend,” you burst out.

“I didn’t say it as an excuse, it’s just a fucking reason,” Jamie shouts back. “Jesus Christ, you’re not the only person with fucking problems! You’re allowed to be mad shitty sometimes, I didn’t ever complain, so why’s it fucking different for me?”

You open your mouth to tell him why it’s fucking different, except you don’t actually have a reason. How many times did you sit with him as he iced his knee, or his face, or his arm while you iced your back, or your chest, or your legs?

Pain is pain, your fucking government-issued therapist had said. And shit if she isn’t right.

“You abandoned me,” you reply, voice small. “You left me for Keeley and I wouldn’t have minded, I really wouldn’t have. I just wanted to talk to you.”

Jamie rubs his face with a sigh. “Didn’t know how to talk to you, after. I knew you liked me since we were kids and I liked you too, so it felt fucking… weird. Dunno. But, I was with her because it was what I was supposed to do and she was mad fit and fucking funny. I’ve had a crush on her for fucking… ages.”

“Right,” you say, feeling one millimeter tall, “I get that.”

Jamie shakes his head and says, “Nah, you don’t.” (The fuck does he mean? He can’t read your mind).

“You don’t get it,” he continues. “Had a crush on her, didn’t I? Not the same as you. You were proper in love with me, and I…” he trails off.

“He was proper in love with you too,” comes Georgie’s voice.

Jamie turns bright red and you do too, and it’s like you’re kids again and he’s in your bed and you’re trying not to think about how close his lips are to yours.

“That’s… well, that’s…” You try and fail to come up with the right words.

“Yeah,” Jamie says, still blushing. “Yeah, suppose I was. Couldn’t do anything about it, then. Could do something about it now. If you’ve forgiven me.” He says it casually, like he won’t mind if you tell him to go away out of his own mum’s house and never return, when in reality he’ll burn up and die if you do.

“I will. I do,” you say. “I’m sorry too, I am. I can be a prick sometimes.”

Jamie shrugs, but he’s smiling a little. “I’m a prick all the time, love. Fucking… fucked childhood or some shit.”

“Some shit,” you echo. “So, proper in love with me, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jamie says. “Proper. Wrote my first name with your last on every bit of paper I could get me hands on, didn’t I?”

“Fuck off,” you say with a grin.

“It’s true,” Simon shouts from the sofa. “Found some bits when I was cleaning one day.”

Wait. Simon didn’t move in until Jamie was a teenager. That means… 

“Oh my god, were you fifteen when you were writing that? You weren’t even a kid anymore! What the fuck Jamie, you had it bad!” you tease.

“Fuck off, it was just a stupid joke,” he says defensively.

“Uh huh, sounds like,” you say as you go to wrap your arms around him. “You liked me.”

“Fuck’s sake,” he grumbles, leaning down to kiss your head. He’s never going to fucking live this down.

[justapoet]

Random dialogue prompt list

"Have you ever been in love?" "No. Why?" "I think I'm in love with you."

Distancing themself from the other because they start to think that there is definitely something wrong with them

Stuttering

"I missed you so much, I don't know why. But, I did."

"You look perfect in this outfit." "Oh."

“Tell me you did not go to a fight without me.” “I don’t need you to protect me.” “It’s not about protection-”

"Did you forget that it was your turn to grab the groceries today?" "Yeah, sorry. I thought I'd wait for you so we can go together?"

“The problem lies within the fact that I want more. That’s what scares me the most, because I don’t want to want more. But I can’t help it.” 

“You said you loved me last night.”

“So that confession…” “Didn’t mean shit ‘cause I was drunk. And I don’t want you accepting that. Let me confess to you, properly, at the least.”

“I swear I didn’t murder anyone.” 

"Who are you when you're not performing?" "Fuck. Marry me."

“You have the most beautiful smile, you know that?”

“I just want(ed) to make you smile.”

“I was just getting my coffee, but then I fell in love with you”

"I…I missed you." "Oh."

“I desperately want to kiss you.”

“Maybe it’s a good mood. Maybe it’s a manic episode.”

"Don't open your eyes"

"Goddammit, don't say that!"

“Fuck it. I’m in.” 

“Too late. I’m already yours.”

“Nothing - no matter how weird or dark - could ever change the way I feel about you.”

“For once, I’m completely serious.”

“I don´t believe that you know what the hell you are doing half of the time.” 

“There isn’t a single unit of thought behind your eyes.” “Of course, not. I’m looking at you. My brain doesn’t work when I’m looking at you.”

"Are we going to talk about it?"

“I’d tear down mountains and rewrite the stars just to see you smile.”

“You weren’t part of my life plan.”

“So, tell me, what do you feel for me?”

“I’m this close to resorting to physical violence if shit continues to not work out.”

“I don’t know what to do.” 

“Say another word and I´ll shove these fries down your throat.” 

“Could you even try to be nice to me today?”

“There are about thirty-five ways this could go wrong. I���d say that’s pretty good odds.”

"Are you seriously considering to go through with this complete absurd?"

"It's a miracle you're still alive." "Mom does say you're a miracle worker, yes."

"You're sick. Did the fever make you forget how to dial my number?"

"Just do it, you moron."

"My self-control is hanging by a thread right now. Please, don't do this to me."

“Hey, neighbour, I’ve never met you before but your dog just destroyed my garden."

“Well, I’m afraid that opinion’s going to change once you get to know me.”

"Ever thought of stepping outside, or have you become part of the furniture?"

"Can you just look at me? Please?"

"I needed to hear your voice."

“Just to clarify: We are in a relationship, right?”

"You're the only thing I should be afraid of, and that fear died off years ago."

“it’s a bit frustrating to how oblivious you are.”

“what do i have to do or say for you to notice that i’m in love with you?”

“Yeah, that wasn’t supposed to happen and I was not supposed to say that, I’m so sorry.” 

so, hi! this is just a silly prompt list, but I'd very much like to ask you to send me asks and resquest a fic from any of them!

I'll be writing for the following couples:

Buddie (9-1-1)

Percabeth (Percy Jackson)

Nick and Chalie (Heartstopper)

Aziracrow (Good Omens)

Polin (Bridgerton)

Kathony (Bridgerton)

If you have any other couples from these universes that you might want, you can send them to me, as well. Other than Buddie (that it's not canon just yet), I like best to only write canon couples.

[zaebeecee]

the following post contains very minor, non-plot spoilers for the most recent Helluva Boss episode

Does anyone else dislike how the Hellaverse is handling the Princes of Hell?

Lemme explain, because I’ve been sitting with this for a couple of days and I would be very interested to hear other people’s opinions.

Now, for the sake of clarity, I don’t have an issue with the Princes themselves. Honestly, I think they’re great, judging by what we’ve seen of them so far. My problem is how, specifically, the Princes are utilized, which I can break down like so:

As we all know, there are seven Princes of Hell: Lucifer, Asmodeus, Mammon, Satan, Beelzebub, Belphegor, and Leviathan (four masc-coded Princes and three fem-coded Princes)

HB and HH together have had five episodes dedicated, at least in part, to introducing individual Princes: Dad Beat Dad (Lucifer), Ozzie’s (Asmodeus), Queen Bee (Beelzebub), Mammon’s Magnificent Musical Mid-Season Special (for fuck’s sake Mammon), and Mastermind (Satan): four masc-coded Princes, one fem-coded Prince

Outside of these specific episodes, the other episodes that contain the Princes with dialogue are The Show Must Go On (Lucifer) and Oops (Asmodeus). Ozzie is also in MMMMMSS (I’m not typing that again). Both are masc-coded.

I’m not forgetting that Ozzie, Bee, and Mammon are in Mastermind, but they’re functioning more as set dressing, because they have no impact on the plot and nothing would have changed if Satan was the only Prince in that episode.

We’ve now, finally, gotten a glimpse of both Belphegor and Leviathan. What I want to know is pretty simple: why is it that, of all the Princes, the only ones who don’t get episode-plot-centric introductions are two of the three women? They don’t even have voice actors. Additionally, outside of their appearances:

Lucifer is referenced repeatedly throughout both HH and HB. The opening HH story is half about him, Charlie talks about him repeatedly, and he’s referenced in several Easter eggs in HB (like being name-dropped in Mammon’s disclaimer in Loo Loo Land).

Asmodeus makes up a large chunk of Fizz’s plot and has one of the most important items in HB, the Asmodean Crystal, named after him (and is the one who gives them out personally). He has a popular club and personally invents, or at least oversees the creation of, basically every sex toy Lust creates.

Mammon owns, like, fucking everything, and his name can be seen on advertisements as early as the second episode of HB. He’s involved in basically every type of business in Hell.

Satan is referenced by the imps as an “oh my god” replacement, as well as being noted in several places to be the one who’s over imps themselves.

Beelzebub has a sign in Husk’s bar and throws parties at her house.

Belphegor has been name-dropped by Bee about not giving her more drugs, and Stolas uses anti-depressants once with her branding. There’s no reference to her in the hospitals, to the point that a lot of the fandom isn’t even aware that the medical district is in Sloth.

Pretty sure Leviathan’s got nothing so far. Also, don’t get me started on “oh good another portrayal of Envy as a two-faced woman to the point that she’s literally both into and not into Mammon to communicate how fickle women are, how innovative”

Yes, all of them are referenced in icons on Blitzø’s phone, not forgetting that either.

Here’s my point: out of the Princes, the men feel like characters who are actually part of the world itself. They have businesses and advertisements, they have products, they’re casually name-dropped as expletives, they feel like they’ve actually made an impact on the world as a whole. By contrast, the women… don’t. Beelzebub’s only impact on the world appears to be the parties that she confines to her own house and a drink brand, Belphegor is only mentioned by Bee herself and one product, and Leviathan is a non-entity. In Ghostfuckers, the villain was a heavily Envy-coded demon, and it would have been fucking trivial to just make it Leviathan with the ability to shape-shift fucking with people, right?

Just… I don’t… Bel and Levi don’t even have voices what the fuck

I might be reading too much into this, but it feels like yet another result of the internalized misogyny Viv is doing a terrible job of masking (things like HH having four initial main characters, and of the two women, Charlie has no character arc and learns absolutely nothing and receives no real consequences for her own mistakes because she exists to bring the plot to other characters so those characters can be the ones to affect it, while Vaggie is the lesbian version of Woman Who Exists To Bolster Male Main Character). There are a thousand ways to integrate Bee, Bel, and Levi into the world of HB, like off the top of my head:

Beelzebub-branded “all you can eat” restaurants, bizarre specialty grocery stores, candy, chips, fast food joints, difficult to identify “meat-like product” snacks, even fucking fad diets like cleanses and weird diet menus and workout videos

Belphegor-branded pharmacies, corner stores, shady cheap motels, vitamin supplements, first aid kits, OTC treatments like pain killers and sleeping pills, emergency clinics in other Rings, illicit substances like miracle pills with mystery ingredients

Leviathan-branded makeup, clothing lines, boutiques, fashion shows, reality television, “Hot or Not” style apps, luxury items, cut-throat talent competitions, anything that encourages influencer-style bragging content

Maybe I’m overreacting, but I don’t think I am. I just feel like there has been substantially less effort put into making the women feel like part of the universe. I was hoping it was because we hadn’t seen two of them yet, but now that they both had their incredibly underwhelming introductions that couldn’t be more “oh right and here are these two also” if it tried, I’m not really inclined to be forgiving here.