#she was a good character and they had good interactions

[samw1se]

I was born blind in my left eye. It never got fixed. Many of these points are true in my experience, except I still have an eyeball. Here are some additional fun facts from my realm of experience:

-my elementary school knew I was blind in one eye but did not tell my parents. I started to get a little farsighted in the 4th grade so I went to get readers and the eye doctor told me, a nine year old girl, that my life was forever fucked and I’d never be fully independent, never drive, never go to college, because I was disabled and it was too late to fix it. We got a second opinion. And then a third.

- (you can try to fix my kind of blindness up until about the age of five because the brain is still really elastic and capable of fixing the broken shit. They fix it by putting a patch over your good eye to force your bad eye to see. They tried it when I was nine but it was too late, so I essentially spent a year having my life ruined by being suddenly completely blind all the time and it sucked ass.)

- you make a great marksman and baseball batter once you figure out how your lack of depth perception works. Not a great outfielder though.

- things sometimes just kind of vanish on you. I got a massive concussion as a kid from running into a pole head on. The pole had been there as long as I could remember. I interacted with the pole every day. But one day I was running and the last thing I remember is thinking, hey, where did the pole go? Like the equipment holding it up was still there but the pole just seemed gone. This also happened several times to me when trying to catch pop flies or headbutt soccer balls. They’d just go away.

- people will indeed forget all the time and throw shit at you from the blind side and hit you in the head, or hug you and scare the shit out of you. A boy asked me out once after he hit me with a frisbee on my blind side.

- and then some people will always think of you when they encounter one eyed things. When I was an RA in college, some of my residents were so very pleased to bring me a one-eyed goldfish they’d found in the feeder tank at the pet store 😩 we named him one eyed Willy and he lived for like five years and survived two cross country trips in a car (in a Nalgene bottle both ways)

- I don’t have a traditional lazy eye (my eyeball can see but there is no connection between it and my brain so the message goes unrecieved) so I don’t really have much of a wandering eye, unlike other folks with amblyopia. I can also only cross my good eye, I cannot wink with my good eye without moving my entire face (and I had to learn how to do this by pushing my cheek and forehead muscles together with my hands until I could do it on my own so I look very stupid) and my good eye also tends to have trouble when looking at blue light for too long since it gets all the strain.

-additionally, the only times my eye seems to look lazy is in the occasional picture. I call it my googly eye.

- re writing advice: I took a writing class in college where we spent a lot of time journaling about our own bodies and then writing stories with what we had learned… my wonderful teacher guessed that I was blind in my left eye because of how I described things. I never used left or right when talking about objects being around characters’ bodies, only front and back. She fucked me up with that one.

- I get a lot of bruises on my left arm because I struggle with depth perception when walking around corners/doors on that side

- they gave me glasses as a kid to try to fix it after patching didn’t work (leading to the discovery that I don’t have a traditional lazy eye) and the left side was the biggest and thickest fucking lens you’ve ever seen and the right side was just normal glass no rx. It made the glasses sit crooked on my face so I stopped wearing them.

- they test you for amblyopia during your drivers license test and I cheated both times I’ve had to go take it 🙃 they put a ball on one lens and a box on the other and they ask if the ball is inside or outside the box and I didn’t see no goddamn ball but the man next to me said it was inside so I did too.

- if I hadn’t cheated, I could still get a license, just with a special note on it, which i didn’t know both times I cheated.

- and yes, cannot agree more with being a safe ass driver. People get frustrated because I follow so far behind other cars and give people so much room all the time but I have a clean ass driving record.

- following that, I have a hard time sitting in the front seat when someone else is driving, especially if they are tailgaters because I feel like I am always about to crash. My husband, a notorious tailgater, says I have an invisible break I hit whenever he’s too close to someone.

- my parents made me go to a chiropractor as a kid to see if the reasoning for my blindness was a pinched nerve. It did not work.

- a redditor once told me he would end himself if he were ‘as cursed as’ me because the idea of being blind in one eye was so insanely distasteful to him. I tried explaining to him that it’s literally the only life I’ve ever known and he kept trying to tell me it was disgusting and unnatural and I lived a hideous life. I was like, dude. Go to therapy.

- if you are blind in one eye but still have an eyeball, you have one fun fact for Two Truths and a Lie always directly on hand and no one will ever guess that’s a truth.

- I am especially clumsy, and sometimes when I get up to do something and start knocking shit down, my husband plays the Godzilla theme song in his phone and it always makes me die laughing.

- when my parents found out, they demanded to know why I didn’t tell them, and I had to explain to them that it was literally all I’ve ever known, how did I know it was wrong? I thought everyone could only see one side of their nose.

Sorry this got long. I can’t sleep lol.

writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.

[zhuoyichenpretty]

Ep 22-23 Commentary

Ha...I was inexplicably nervous for eps 22-23 and it looks like I was right to be (-: What a rollercoaster. Spoilers below!

I've just come out of ep 23 and uh????? holy shit????? ZYC????

Ok ok but to backtrack, let's do my comments semi-chronologically:

Ep 22:

A carry-over from ep 21 that I have to mention—heck yeah PSJ give WZY hell. She doesn't have all that many lines but she sure knows how to make them count. Also seeing PSJ and WX get screen time just the two of them makes my brain go "yay <3"

Back to ep 22, loved the fake-out sundial ayeee that was a nice Chekhov's gun that also brings the real sundial back into relevance for later. Also me eating up the PSJ and ZYC crumb of an interaction has brought to my attention how starved I am of their screen time together.

This whole ep was a great lament towards the feared inevitable. Every sad downcast look from ZYC, every complicated glance WX gives him. A wonderful, terrible crossroads for these characters. I love that for ZYC especially, it's such an incredible mess of emotion coming to a head. Bad enough that he's come to care about the demon who killed his family and ruined his life, bad enough that he's sworn a blood oath he regrets and tied himself to punishing someone he no longer finds culpable, bad enough that ZYZ's life or death depends solely on his choice and ZYZ is constantly practically begging for death when ZYC wants him to live. How much immensely worse it makes the whole situation that WX is literally ZYZ's soulmate. And obviously the whole team has only grown more and more attached to ZYZ, too. ZYC's personal turmoil aside, how heavy must that responsibility and guilt be? For the finishing blow that only he can deliver to also deeply threaten every other person he cares about? Everyone understands in the abstract what must happen and why, but just like seeing ZYZ lose control firsthand, the gulf between understanding and experiencing is so unimaginably wide. If he kills ZYZ, can there really be no resentment from his friends? From WX?

Also it seems ZYC only wears cloaks so that he can give them to other people lmao

Ah fuck, the farewell drinks. I didn't even factor in how ZYC might not survive the encounter (''': The drama truly was like hm can we possibly give ZYC a worse day than that night his whole fam died? Maybe give him a bunch of new family members and also the blade and the fate and the sole responsibility to potentially irrevocably scar said family members with? And he might die in the process too? (-: haha maybe? (((-:

Oh. Oh. Addendum. I forgot this til I saw it mentioned in another post—ZYC recounting his oath as he watched WX smile when they discussed reviving the tree...I could feel him weighing those words against his own life, against ZYZ's life, against WX's happiness. One way out of this impossible situation is indeed to doom himself. I'm in pieces.

Damn if WX isn't dedicated heart and soul, going into the sundial like that. I'm sad no one could keep her company for those 300 years but also I guess that's kind of an impossible ask (and maybe not survivable for the other non-goddess mortals? I'm admittedly very unclear on sundial time loophole logistics). It would have been nice to see someone offer though, even just to be turned down.

Ooh I like the soul needle fake-out, given this show's penchant for retroactive "actually we had a plan all along" moments. A good subversion of the narrative's own style.

Also I saved this for the end because it doesn't really fit the linearity of my comments but what the fuuuuuuuck oh my god I absolutely flipped out at this scene:

I am at once rabidly intrigued and at the same time not sure if I'll be satisfied with whatever payoff will come for this so I don't want to overindulge in theorizing and setting my own expectations too high. Maybe this is just a fevered hallucination, maybe it means nothing (I hope it means something). But damn!!! What a gorgeous man crazy scene.

In conclusion, ep 22 had some good stuff for me. Plot development and reflection and tension enough that I may have been satisfied with just that one episode. But they gave us two, so onward to ep 23 comments!

Ep 23:

I like how many solid reasons the team has to suspect ZYC being possessed. Even though I withheld judgment during my watch given how quickly the show usually confirms that kind of stuff with a possession mark, just simply casting that doubt made the whole build up that much more intense.

ZYC slowly walking down the corridor with the whole grounds lit a somber and haunting gold—*chef's kiss*

ZYC's monologue to a catatonic ZYZ is so important to me. The closest we'll get to his internal monologue about this whole situation. The kinds of things said when we think there's no conscious listener.

Okay so, having finished this episode and looking back, Li Lun's hands coming up from behind ZYC was not to denote possession (at least in this episode), potentially is a visual from ZYZ's POV, and seems related to the above screencap. I am so, so curious. Once again, I'm stopping myself from further speculation because I want to be surprised but ahhhhhhhhh

PSJ shooting at Ao Yin is so gorgeous. Her action scenes seriously never disappoint—the creativity of her fight choreos!! Also very cool that the whole team is getting to take part in the action, not just the two male leads.

Bai Jiu possession was not on my bingo card but I sure do love that we literally saw the possession take place and I still didn't connect the dots. Good shitttt. Also oh no ): ZYC was telling the truth about the soul needle, he was just tricked ):

Seriously from the Ao Yin case to getting PSJ released to reviving the Divine Wood to getting tricked by possessed!Bai Jiu to making pear soup to fighting ZYZ to fighting Li Lun—when will ZYC get a single goddamn vacation day holy shit.

Also when will WX tear up that contract so ZYZ can stop having a mild heart attack every time he wants to kiss her ): &I love that they saved the 300-year montage for this moment. While their ship doesn't give me brainrot personally, who could be unmoved by that incredible and undisclosed sacrifice? That's soulmatism.

Okay, I'd seen clips of them filming the ZYC and Li Lun fight but damn I did not expect it'd be happening right now!! Right after already taking damage from ZYZ? And my god is Li Lun brutal. The two actors did such an impressive job on this entire fight, what with Li Lun's ease and ZYC's suffering. I really appreciated the extensive hand-to-hand combat after Li Lun literally obliterated ZYC's sword. (Also though, given the origin of that sword, I kept hoping for a flashback to ZYC's brother once it broke, but alas, no dice.) Anyway, the show does not play around about ZYC whump it seems. I was very very shook by that throat punch; that shit legitimately looked like it hurt.

Honestly, I had a hard time with the extended ZYZ and Li Lun conversation at the very end because oh my god someone please heal ZYC lmao. But of course, that's the end of the episode~~

Y'all...check on your local ZYC stans because I was not okay after all that (': I need a heaping dose of comfort after all that hurt, but as always I'm cautious of hoping for much from canon itself. So yeah! Ep 23 was solid, but I would probably be in better shape if today's release just ended on ep 22 ((':

Time to go wait for the cast's Hi6 episode to drop so I can heal my battered heart ;-;

[doink-boink]

Finally drew my interpretation of Zach's parents!

Have had these fellows in the works for a good while!

Really had to lock in when doing the writing here lol - my handwriting is normally a weird hyper mix between cursive and print. But messier. Hopefully its legible! Enjoy some more yapping about these guys below the cut >:D

Must mention this is within my own AU! My interpretation of Zach specifically is a trans man. So uh! No way in hell Arthur is supportive in that regard. He is a miserable man whose only concern is furthering the family business and his public image.

Really looked to both Moral Orel and Bojack Horseman as inspiration for how these two would be. Did not intend for Arthur to share a name with the character he is inspired by lol - but uhm! He specifically is like Arthur Puppington when Clay was a kid: Distant, cold, though not physically abusive. Emotionally? Oh brother, you bet.

Regarding Kim and Arthur's relationship, that was really dead in the water. Kim is a self published author, or rather, an ASPIRING self published author. She mostly writes crime novellas/dramas, though needed some outsider input regarding the legal side of her stories. So, of course, she decides to reach out to the biggest law firm in the area.

It is initially a short and sweet interaction: "I ask you questions, you give me answers and insight when you can." However, she grows to enjoy Arthur's company, falling for him quickly. VERY rushed marriage ensues! Good god! (Of course not ASAP, within a few months time of dating/correspondence) Not too certain as of right now where Zach comes into the mix, but definitely in that honeymoon stage of a relationship where you don't quite know the person yet to really gauge if things will work out or not.

I mean, things absolutely do NOT work out in the end, but they don't know that yet. Arthur I feel is the type to want a family ASAP. Need that sweet sweet heir to the company. Will accept nothing less than a son. Sucks for him, doesn't end up coming to fruition until much later! AFAB child, disappointment on Arthur's behalf, compassion on Kim's. Like a night and day difference - even after Zach does eventually transition (his mother is deceased by this point) his father refuses to accept it until he dies. By until I mean: "You still are not my son." *flatline*

Kim was there for Zach until the day she died, which would probably be around late middle school to early highschool? In that age range. Old enough to have fond and in depth memories. Which! Arthur is the one who discovers what had happened. Busy writing a novel when wham, sudden cardiac arrest - alone, as she tended to keep to herself. Entire family dynamic changes from then onward, though the abusive aspects of it were ever present. Arthur is generally unsupportive of Zach's endeavors, frustrated that he is going into science and robotics as opposed to law. (Though I do think he'd have been trained or prepped for a career as a lawyer throughout his teens-adolescence)

Zach is the closest to his mother, with most of his fashion sense coming from her. Gotta love the turtleneck sweater! @novazentryx came up with the idea that he inherited his early black sweater from Tazzy Chris from her after it shrunk in the wash, loved that so y'know what! This totally applies here. Not only did he inherit the sweater, but also her V-necklace! (Which, if you have seen Zoey, is where she gets it from! As well as she looks strikingly similar to Kim. On that front I think that was a surprise from Aviva, knowing how close he was to her)

Spitballing with this one, but I think it would be interesting if Zach had assisted in pitching ideas for Kim's stories! What aspects of it I do not know, but maybe names for the characters. Mayhaps that is where he gets ZACH from? Don't ask what his deadname is, haven't thought of that and would prefer not to lol

I think that concludes my rambling! Do not really have anything else that is coming to mind at the moment, so feel free to ask questions or leave suggestions about these two! I will more than likely respond ^^ (To asks or replies) Thank you for humoring me and reading all of this if you're here lol, I really appreciate it!!

[highly-flammable]

I still have so many thoughts about this scene.

It’s very interesting how regardless of what you think of Sauron’s motivations here, his emotions are completely genuine here. Galadriel is someone who has believed in him, who has pushed him and revitalized him, and that feeling, that high he could chase forever. We see how lonely Sauron as a character is in S2, how he has felt betrayed at the hand of Adar, and how normal people (like Diarmid) don’t do anything for him. It takes someone like Galadriel with her level of power and wisdom, and that hint of darkness, to finally feel like he is not alone. That he has somehow been made better.

At the same time, you have to wonder why this is the moment that he chose to open up to Galadriel like this. In the scene right before, he seemed almost calculating as he called her name and stopped her from killing Adar. I, for one, am averse to having too much of a charitable opinion of this guy. To me, part of the beauty of this character in TROP is that he says and does many things that come from an emotionally honest place, but they end up serving his goals in little ways.

As I see it, both things are true: he could genuinely feel a connection to her and felt like communicating it (you can almost feel the words spilling out of him), and he also saw how this moment was absolutely ripe for Galadriel to know they were firm friends and therefore get bound to him. Their fight was seemingly over and he knew she was going to have to leave soon. He had to give her a reason to still have him around, and here he tries to do that. Galadriel is someone who has spent centuries looking for him so that she could destroy him, and this is when he sees that opening where he could get through to her and somehow make her feel that they did not have to be enemies. Sauron’s good at choosing the moments for planting seeds which will bear fruit later, and we will indeed see him referring to this interaction multiple times in the future.

Sidenote: Charlie Vickers has very soulful, expressive eyes.

Moving on to what I personally find even more interesting: Galadriel’s feelings. Morfydd once mentioned in an interview that when Galadriel meets Halbrand, she is desperate to feel anything other than grief. She has been drowning in it for centuries, and when Sauron pulls her out of the ocean in the middle of the tempest, their resurfacing is symbolic of a rebirth. As brash and headstrong and disrespectful as she finds Halbrand, she enjoys his audacity and his wit. She admires that he feels alive and seems to grasp at opportunities. He wakes her up, as much as she does it for him.

But between the two of them, Galadriel is the one still dealing with overwhelming loss. She is mourning so many of her kinsmen, particularly Finrod, who was clearly her guiding light, and also Celeborn. Different shipper camps will have their interpretations of Galadriel and Celeborn’s relationship, but I don’t think it’s up for debate that she had been quietly grieving him. It wasn’t enough to divert her from hunting down Sauron, but the grief itself is clear in 1x07 when she mentions him. Galadriel’s story has been a tapestry of different kinds of loss - the ones that are unexpected and come as a heavy blow like Finrod’s, and the ones where the realization slowly seeps in like poison and eats away at you.

It’s downright painful for her to admit here that she felt something poignant with regard to Halbrand, perhaps simply because she is so afraid of loss again. It must have been ages since she last let someone new in, and this person has rescued her and stood by her (aside from all the playing hard to get) when she was utterly alone. This is the moment where it truly hits her how much he has begun to mean to her, and having gone through what she has, you have to assume she is downright terrified of it, particularly because as per her knowledge, this is a mortal man, with no enhanced lifespan even, his time on middle-earth a mere blink against the ages she has endured and will continue to.

Their relationship has been coded as romantic from the very beginning (I would say right from the moment Sauron first tries to separate from the rest of the castaways in 1x02 and clearly plans to join her). But I don’t believe Galadriel in this scene would ever admit to herself if she felt anything romantic. It would be too much for her, and I don’t believe she is even in the headspace to think about these things . I have to say Morfydd and Charlie are right about one thing: romance alone doesn’t cover whatever they were trying to sell here. For both characters, this is a moment of a tremendous wall breaking down emotionally, and both of them realizing they have met their kindreds. This is the moment that understandably keeps haunting both of them, and I suppose will continue to for multiple reasons.

Sidenote 2: Galadriel’s little shaky breaths and subtly pained expressions are so masterfully done here by Morfydd. You almost feel like you are watching someone’s wounds being slowly, excruciatingly cut open again.

[romanceclub-confessionss]

Okay so I saw the post about Radha, Raj, and Amrita and I want to say something about it but I am afraid to contradict some of the people because they seem a bit unreasonable and would attack you for your opinion. The also are insulting people who agree with it. So I am going to explain why that person said what they did or potentially why. This comes from somebody who is an avid reader I read visual novel games, fanfiction, and books I have 10 plus years of reading with critical thinking of details in stories and understanding of characters.

Okay let’s start with the whole Radha is groomed I am of the opinion that did not happen based on how the Basu family is described. You think Vidya, Doran, or Sara would allow Raj to live if any of them believed he manipulated and used Radha for his gain. Grooming victims are described as being naive easy to manipulate that is not Radha at all she is being taught how to become a leader in time when women in power were looked down upon. You think part of her education from Vidya wasn’t about being able to spot manipulations from men who would want to use her and manipulate her. You think Radha wouldn’t do anything to a man who thought he could use her as an example of why not to mess with her like what Sara did to Rati when Rati insulted Sara. To me to say that Radha is a victim of grooming by Raj is an insult to Radha and her intelligence and her capabilities of being a leader you are saying that when a good looking guy comes into the picture all of Radha’s training disappears. My interpretation of how this relationship started was that it happened when Devi was in Bombay which made Radha 18 when this relationship started I can’t find information on how old Raj is but the oldest I think he is is 30 which is not a great look but from the interaction that we see while they are at the mountain retreat is that Raj is trying to end their relationship because even though BOTH of them have feelings for one another it is not the time for their families bloodlines to unite Radha is the one who says no let’s continue this affair in secret because I am what you want and we should be together. In grooming relationships the groomer has all the power in this relationship it looks like equal partnership with them. Also we know that Sara and Radha believe that men are tools for their entertainment you think a women who think men are like animals for their amusement can be manipulated and controlled by one. You guys don’t think Sara wouldn’t kill Raj if he groomed and used Radha her twin Sara straight up killed someone to protect Radha’s secret which means that Sara knows that BOTH Radha and Raj went into this willingly together. I want everyone to know that in my opinion guys Vidya knows about Raj and Radha. When Vidya tells Raj you are practically like family to me she is saying that she knows Raj is the one who got her daughter pregnant and she is not happy at all. I believe that part of the reason there is tension between the Basus and Doobays is because Vidya knows about the affair and is mad at both Raj and Radha then that anger multiplies when Radha gets pregnant. I also believe the reason that Vidya is not passing the reins to Radha is because she knows about the affair with Raj and believes that Radha needs more training before she becomes leader of the dozen and the Basu family. Vidya loves her daughters and I get the impression that if anyone hurt or used her daughter she would kill them no matter what and I guarantee that Doran would be there to help Vidya.

Let us move on to another topic people who say that Radha owes Amrita nothing. You do remember that Amrita is/was friends with the Basu twins. Which means that Radha slept and had a relationship with a friend’s fiancé. I could never justify doing that to someone who was a friend to me. Also the reason that Amrita is not close to her friends is the fact she is engaged and is learning about her future role along with getting to know her future husband. I also don’t understand how Raj can get to know his fiancé as a person and continue seeing someone else. Raj has hurt Amrita she knows that Raj doesn’t love her and she will be trapped in an loveless marriage, but can you imagine the pain of knowing that someone who was friends with you was sleeping with your fiancé behind your back and your fiancé cares about them more than you. I also love Radha as a character but I can hate and be critical of her choices this is what makes her multi dimensional and a fascinating character making her a victim of grooming makes her more flat and not as interesting of an character. I also believe that everyone missed the point of what the poster of the post was saying Radha and Raj are BOTH to blame for this situation they both knew better but continued it and now there is fallout because of their actions. Radha and Raj both hold blame on this no one forced this relationship they both willingly went along with it. Raj being the older one who also wanted to stop his relationship with Radha should have stuck to his original intentions Raj is older and is already a leader he knew better then to continue the affair, but it doesn’t excuse Radha because when she became older and almost became the the official leader Radha knew better as well then to continue her affair with Raj. Amrita is truly the only one who has no blame in this and everyone loves to hate on her when in reality Amrita is a victim in this and is going to experience unbelievable pain and betrayal from this. Some people missed the point on the post both Radha and Raj deserve equal blame in all of this no one is saying Raj is an angel because he is not but not enough people point that out the fact that Radha is 23 when she gets pregnant she knows better then to continue this affair and face possible repercussions of her affair with Raj. People treat Radha like she was forced against her will to be in this relationship when she wasn’t at all Raj and Radha were equal partners in their relationship. Therefore the both hold equal blame for what happened. Radha is no angel and that is okay because no one is in this story is and that is what makes everything so interesting.

Well that's a big confession 🤯

Sorry but we cannot edit such a big confession, even if we try would be a mess ( fun fact: we did try and turn out to be 5 images 😬)

This is something to have in mind before sending a confession, the length of the confession shouldn't excess 100 words, thanks!

-mod lyn

[theitgirlnetwork]

What Are You Willing To Do?

Ch. 1 : Self-Restraint (Rafe has none)

Milan's Party Outfit

Note: Okay this took forever to come out and I'm sorry. Please let me know what you think. Also something to note, I have an OC who is the main love interest in my JJ story. She is present in this story, but the two stories don't intertwine. Just something for those of you who will read both. I hope you enjoy and I love interacting. I will accept (constructive) criticism. And feedback. Another note, Milan is a little more of a bimbo character than my other ones, she won't be fully lost and I refuse to make her childlike. She just likes to be in the wind and chose a man who handles stuff for her. Also she doesn't have a permanent face claim yet, so if you have any ideas for that, please message them to me! :) Thank you for giving my story a chance, and if you're reading any of my other stories, I hope to be posting more to have some reprieve from the state of the world. Thanks so much!

Warnings: Mentions of sexual conduct, strong language, drug use

“Let’s go, I don’t know why I have to wait for you, we’ve got things to handle today, you’re makin’ me late-”

“Yeah, Dad-” Rafe huffs, jogging his way down the steps, grabbing his jacket off of the coat rack in the foyer. “Well, Sara has been in my shit again so, maybe you could talk to her about that-”

“I don’t touch your shit, no one wants your shit, Rafe.”

“I can tell, you probably brought your bum ass pogue boyfriend in here too, he shouldn’t be in the damn house-”

“Rafe!” Ward’s voice booms, making Rafe’s eyes snap to his father’s obediently, mouth snapping shut. “Do you really think that it's productive for you to waste time arguing with your little sister when I just told you we need to get a move on?”

“Uh,” the younger man breathes heavily through his nose, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides as he glares at his sister over his father’s shoulder. “No, sir.” 

“Alright then.” Ward rolls his eyes, nodding his head for his son to grab the bag on the ground and grab the car keys before turning to address his eldest daughter. “Need you to be home for dinner tonight. There’s a new family moving in a couple blocks over and we wanna make a good impression. That means no fighting,” the older man raises his eyebrows at his children, placing his bluetooth in his ear, “no boyfriends, Sarah,” Ward finishes with a rough pat on his son’s back, “no drugs. Get it? This could be big, Gregory Cabot is big in the oil industry and they might want to…settle here. If they do, we should be their first friends, understand?”

Rafe nods quietly, attentively hanging onto his father’s every word. Taking them in with an intensity that would satisfy any other dad. But not Ward Cameron. “Sarah, they’ve got twins about your age. Make sure you and Wheezie are cleaned up nicely. Rafe,” the 21 year old is met with his father’s rough hand smacking his cheek once, twice, under the guise of an affectionate pat. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“It’s like he uh, doesn’t get it, right? Like I do fuckin’ everything he asks, and I’m uh…I’m the fuck up.” Rafe stammers irritably before sending a powerful swing into the golf ball in front of him, watching it sail off into the distance. 

Topper and Kelce exchange looks as their friend grinds his teeth, grabbing a beer from their cart and taking a deep swig. He’d been ranting about this morning since they’d started on the course an hour ago. Apparently, his father’s comment had carried in Rafe’s mind all of the way through the brief errand down at the docks he’d accompanied him on, followed him to the country club and was going to last the entirety of their hang out. 

“Yeah man, I mean,” Topper begins, “I get it right? My mom’s always on some shit too. Like I screw up everything I do.”

“You do, Top.” Kelce chuckles, lining up for his swing.

Rafe nods along, taking another swig. “For real, like realistically, I do everything I’m supposed to, like I really step up and it’s fuckin’ bullshit that I’m still supposed to act like I’m his little bitch boy. I’m fully a man. I’m focused and shit. Because for real, Top, I feel like if Sarah asked you to come over right now you’d go runnin’ right?”

“Fuck you man.”

“Motherfucker knows I’m right.”

“Kelce?”

“I mean, Top, let’s be real.”

Topper rolls his tongue in his cheek irritably, turning red at his friend’s taunting, “Well, y’all are the ones who lost a girl to Maybank. Angel is glued to his broke ass.”

Rafe scoffs, picking his club back up and practicing his swing. “Yeah, fuck that, that was Kelce’s thing. Angel’s bad, but she’s more like the sister I wish Sarah’s annoying ass was.” 

“Sarah’s just like, young minded, she doesn’t know what she wants.”

Kelce laughs again as Rafe rolls his eyes, the two men switching spots as Rafe goes up for his turn again. “She knows, it’s just not you, man. Maybe that pogue just has better dick than you, Top…or did she ever let you fuck her?” Kelce laughs, turning his head to look up the hill at the juice bar at the edge of the course, squinting at something in the distance.

“Fuckin’ disgustin’.” Rafe huffs, swinging again, smirking as the ball goes directly into the hole, resting the club on his broad shoulder. “If you bitches weren’t so worried about chasing ass, maybe your game would be better.” The dirty blond brags, turning to see both of his friends now staring off into the distance. His jaw ticks in annoyance as he realizes that his friends had missed his impressive swing and ignored his bragging to stare at… “what the hell are you idiots looking at?”

When they don’t answer, Rafe decides to look for himself. The sight he sees is simultaneously exactly what he’s expecting and something he couldn’t have seen coming. 

Standing at the juice bar was possibly the sexiest little thing he’s seen in his 21 years of living. Sure, he’d expected to see a pretty girl. That’s just about the only thing that can get both Topper and Kelce to shut the fuck up for more than two seconds. Their eyes wide and mouths slightly agape, the two men didn’t hide their attraction at all. 

But Rafe, he was experiencing something else entirely. He’d thought she was fucking hot like they did, obviously. But this was a different kind of fine. She had to be new. There was no way that she would have evaded him by now. His cheek dimples slightly as he absently bites his lip a bit, watching the girl lean over the counter, her feet lifting slightly off of the ground, her tiny white skirt giving him a shot of the smooth skin that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on. Rafe’s eyes follow her every movement, like a predator stalking its prey. Intense blue drinking in the dark, shiny, barely shoulder length hair falls out from her hat as she lifts it from her head, smoothing her hand over it before placing her hat back on.

Come on, baby, turn around for me. Lemme see the rest of that body. Lemme see that face.

It’s as if she could hear him. Like she decided to move, position herself, just for his enjoyment, because she turns. She turns and pulls herself up onto one of the barstools with a hop, pulling her shades from her face and tucking them onto the front of her shirt. She’s far, but even with the distance, Rafe finds himself puffing out a breath of disbelief, drinking in her gorgeous features. Full, glossy lips, tinged red, big eyes and a sweet, absent expression.

Next thing Rafe knows he’s making his way up the grassy hill, ignoring the calls of his friends for him to wait up. 

“But, my parents are signing up for membership today.” 

“I’m sorry ma’am, but until you’re in the system you’ll have to pay with cash or card.”

Milan pouts and furrows her brows. She just wanted to have a quick refresher before she met up with her mother at the new house so she’d ridden over to the club with her father. She didn’t really think she’d need money. She never carries cash because she’s likely to lose it and she’d left her card in her red purse, but it didn’t match her outfit so she’d sent it ahead to the house. She could go ask her father for money, but he was in the club owner’s office talking shop and had instructed her to explore while he finished up. “But it’s hot out here.” she whines. 

Milan turns to her right and starts scanning the outdoor bar area, looking for someone who looked friendly enough to spot her until her dad came down and paid them back. She drums her manicured nails on the wood of the countertop, ignorant to the bartender rolling her eyes at the girl. 

Finally, her eye lands on a table with three guys that look fresh off of the golf course. They’re all dressed similarly and just like every other guy at the club. Polo shirt and khaki pants. Two of them wore hats. They looked like her friends from back home. But the third one, he’s the one who gives her pause. As soon as her eyes land on him his shoot over, locking on hers. She straightens her posture a bit under his gaze, offering a polite smile before doing what most normal people do when accidentally making eye contact with someone, looking away. Her bob length hair brushes her shoulder as she turns her head away, but she can’t help but feel someone was still watching her. She decides to turn her head back slowly, trying to be inconspicuous, only to find she’s right. The guy is still watching.

He wets his lip as he tilts his head. His eyes still trained on her as he uncrossed his muscular arms. A small, what seems to be a smile, rests on his lips as he drums his hands on the arms of the chair he’s sitting in, pushing out of the seat and making his way over. One of his friends making a comment about something being ‘fuckin’ unfair’.

Milan fully straightens, tucking her hands under her butt and whirling around to face the bar again as if she hadn’t just been staring back at him. She kicks her feet until she feels a presence behind her? Beside her?

She turns her head and looks up to find the same guy, caging her in, standing slightly behind her with one hand resting on the bar at her side, the other grabbing the bottom of her stool and turning her to face him fully. 

Seeing him up close she can see how cute he is. Pretty blue eyes, clear skin and pink lips. His jawline is sharp, his seemingly blond hair is buzzed short to his head, and a dimple is revealed in his cheek with his smug grin. He’s big too. Tall and muscular, his presence is all imposing, crowding her against the bar and giving her no choice but to accommodate him in her bubble. “Hey.” he says softly, his voice still a deep rumble. 

Milan finds herself mimicking his position, tilting her head to match his, placing her elbows behind her to rest on the bar leaning the same way he was. Missing his eyes dropping briefly to wear the fabric of her shirt strained against her breasts. “Hi.”

“So, you uh, you want a drink or somethin’?” he asks lowly.

“Um..” she shrugs sheepishly, lifting her shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. “I dunno.”

She does. That’s what she’s been trying to do for the last few minutes, but that was before the cute guy was towering over her, taking up her space. He furrows his brow for a second, a smile still on his face as he pushes up a little, whistling into the air, nodding his head for the bartender to come over.

The woman sees the man and immediately sweeps her hand over her hair, smoothing it out and prancing over. “Yeah, yes, hi Mr. Cameron.” She twirls the end of her ponytail, offering him a wide grin. “What can I get for you?”

“Yeah, Erica, get me and the boys some beers and, uh,” the man raises his eyebrows at Milan.

“Oh, Milan.” she smiles up at him prettily before looking back at a very annoyed Erica. “Can I have a peach refresher? Please?”

“She doesn’t have a membership account yet-” Erica starts only to pause when she realizes that the blond hadn’t glanced in her direction since calling her over.

“Then put her shit on mine. Want anything else, sweetheart?” he asks, a heavy hand resting on Milan’s lower back.

“No, I think I’m okay.” she hums, lifting her chin as the bartender rolls her eyes and strolls away. “Thank you, by the way, for covering me. My father will pay you back when he’s done with his meeting.”

The mention of her father has the man recoiling a little, retreating his hand from her with his smile dropping slightly. “Don’t uh, worry about it, aight? So, Milan, how, uh, how old are you anyway?”

Milan works an even wider eyed look on her face, perching herself on the edge of the stool and swinging her legs. “15, how old are you, Mr. Cameron?”

His eyes widen and he takes a large step back, smoothing his and over his jaw, looking away briefly before looking back at her. “No shit? I uh…I’m-”

“Cute.” Milan giggles, hitting his arm lightly, pulling back when she feels the muscles that are barely concealed by the stereotypical polo that he’s wearing. “‘M 20, Mr. Cameron.”

“Rafe.” he says firmly. Milan straightens again when she feels his imposing presence once again, the heavy hand back at her back, spreading warmth up her spine. 

“Rafe.” she repeats.

“Good.” Rafe praises. Milan shifts in her seat at his approval, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion at the feeling she gets from the praise. “You, uh, new around here, or…”

“Yeah, I’m new, just settling in.”

“Right, yeah, and uh…your family just left you all alone, that doesn’t seem fair.” He offers her a small pout that Milan fails to recognize as patronizing. “Wanna join me and the boys?”

“Sur-”

The sound of a glass slamming down on the bartop startles the girl, the splashing of her drink leading her to scoot back, bumping into Rafe’s hard chest. “Three beers and a refresher.” Erica sneers. Milan checks her outfit for juice stains while Rafe tosses a tip onto the bar, an unimpressed look on his face.

“That shit’s not cute.”

Both girls whip their heads to look up at him, a hard look of disapproval has Erica huffing and storming away after snatching the tip from the counter. As quickly as it appeared, the look is gone when Rafe refocuses his attention on the girl directly in front of him.

Milan finds herself smiling again as the man mumbles a short, ‘you’re good’ under his breath as he scans her clothes for any evidence of a spill. Just as she’s going to agree to join them she receives a text from her father. Time to go. “I’d love to, but my father is ready to leave, it’s been a long day for him, I don’t wanna keep him waiting.”

“Nah, we wouldn’t want that.” Rafe offers Milan a hand, helping her hop down from the stool and passing her the drink. “Go on, sweetheart. I’ll see you around.”

As Milan walks away perkily all she can think about is the cute guy she met at the country club. Turning back once to wave her fingers at him and being met with a crooked smile and a nod of the head she flounces off to find her dad. 

And sharp blue eyes follow her skirt the whole way.

The muscle working in Rafe’s jaw is doing overtime as he cocks his head to the side, staring blankly at the wall trying to temper the rage boiling in his stomach as Ward carries on screaming in his face. 

Apparently if he didn’t have anything better to be doing, he should have been shadowing his father today instead of golfing.

Apparently he was a dickhead for even thinking he’d be sitting at one of the seats at the end of the table because that’s where the head of the house sits and he doesn’t run shit but his mouth. 

Apparently he was a poor excuse of a man for not knowing why Sarah was late and Wheezie’s dress wasn’t perfectly ironed, because how the women in the house look and act is a reflection of him and more importantly, Ward. 

So Rafe stood there. And he ate that shit. Nodded quietly, eyes squinted, internalizing every slight, every insult, and making note.

He counted every book on the bookshelf in his father’s office until he felt his jaw being gripped and forced over to face Ward. Then, he started counting the wrinkles on his face. 

The verbal lashing didn’t end until Sarah came barreling in, her straps to her dress barely on and her hair combed for fucking once since getting with that fuckin’ bum. But Ward softens. He redirects his attention to tell his daughter she’s beautiful and thank her for coming. And then he points a warning finger in Rafe’s face before storming out of the room.

“Where the hell were you?” he asks his sister through gritted teeth. 

Sarah rolls her eyes, pushing past him. “Don’t have to answer to you, Rafe.”

It takes everything in him not to put his fist through a wall.

So, yeah, one could say he’s a little on edge. Sitting on his father’s right because the guest of honor, Mr. Cabot deserves the seat on the left, that’s where food gets served first. Rose sat on the opposite end, where the second host sits which will also place her closest to where Mrs. Cabot will likely be. Ward is at the head because where the fuck else would he be? And Rafe is in the seat on the right. The seat where the food will get served last. The seat where the youngest in the family is supposed to fuckin’ sit which anyone who has any kind of knowledge of etiquette would know. Which Rafe knows because he’s proactive and he fuckin’ learned it. Because he knows every aspect of running a household, not that Ward would acknowledge it. 

He needs a fuckin’ bump. 

Or a blunt. 

What the fuck ever the wine ain’t cuttin’ it. 

But Ward is watching him like a hawk and clearly won’t tolerate him disappearing to find some peace no matter how brief and slick he is about it. 

So instead, Rafe’s leg jumps under the table. And his fingers drum on top of it. And he works his jaw irritably.

“You need a nicotine patch or something?” Wheezie asks, pushing her glasses up her nose.

“C-could you actually shut the fuck up for one second?” 

“You’re such a jerk, Rafe, she’s a kid, Jesus.” Sarah huffs. “When’s this family supposed to be coming anyway?” 

“Asking that repetitively is not going to make them get here faster.” Rose groans, rubbing her temples. “Honey-”

“They’re here,” Ward calls, retreating from the door, snapping his fingers and pointing toward the sitting room for Rafe to get four scotches ready, and sitting in the seat in the corner of the room. “Ladies?”

“We’re going.” Wheezie whines, following behind Rose into the kitchen and carrying in the dinner that they were pretending Rose and Sarah made as Sarah goes to the foyer to wait for the bell to ring. “But this little routine we have is really sexist.”

“Don’t screw this up.” Ward sneers under his breath, as he takes his glass from Rafe.

“Dad-”

The ring of the doorbell has everyone falling into their roles. It all starts without a hitch. Sarah pulls the door open with a bright smile and sickeningly sweet greeting. Rafe tries to tune in to the fake conversation his father started with him when they heard the footsteps in their home multiply. 

“Oh! I’m a mess, nice to meet you, I’m Rose, please come in. Sweetheart, why don’t you go with Sarah and Louisa while I show your father to the sitting room. Then us girls can really get to know each other.” Rose plays her part easily, her heels clacking against the floor, the sound getting closer as she chatters away to what should only be the couple and their son now that she’s dumped the girl off with Sarah. “Your daughter is just beautiful, really, you’re going to have to watch her on this island.”

She says that to everyone. 9/10 it's a lie. 

“Your daughters are gorgeous too. You must have your hands full.”

Sounds like Mrs. Cabot knows the game too, usually people don’t get a word in while Rose is running her lines.

“We keep our eyes peeled, but our girls just aren’t doing the dating scene yet.” No, Sarah’s too busy laying on her back for dirty pogues to date someone worth mentioning. A little money doesn’t change status. “Ward, darling, our guests are here.”

And that’s our cue. 

Like they’ve done many times before the two men stand, Rafe watches his father’s movements carefully, making sure to always stand tall, and one step behind him. Ward takes 2 steps, Rafe takes 1. 

The man entering the room behind Rose was tall. Only a little shorter than Rafe. Broad and appearing stern. He guides his wife in by her waist and Rafe quickly looks away from the older woman. She’s attractive, and if it was him, the last thing Rafe would want is his potential business partner’s son eyeing down his wife. The man holds out his large hand to Ward first, the two of them shaking firmly. “Gregory Cabot.” 

“Ward Cameron, good to meet you.” Ward gestures behind him for Rafe to enter stage left. “And this is my son…”

“Rafe, uh Rafe Cameron, nice to meet you, sir. Ma’am.” he says, shaking Gregory’s hand and squeezing the appropriate amount. A craft he’d perfected during the early days of doing these. 

“Good shake son.”

The comment has Rafe standing at his full height, biting back an accomplished smirk as his dad glances back at him with a look of approval. 

“Handsome young man, too.” the older woman hums. 

“Thank you, ma’am.” Rafe offers her a polite smile to appease his father. 

It’s all a part of the game. This little back and forth. It breaks the ice, and Rafe is the sacrificial lamb for it everytime. Gregory would say:

“Don’t be tryin’ to seal my wife there, boy.”

Pause for laughter. 

Then Rafe would say something like, “if I was a couple years older I might give you some competition, sir.”

To which everyone would laugh and Ward would swat him with strength that varies depending on how the interaction goes. 

Rafe has this little dance down to a science. 

It was going well. Really, it was exactly how it should be, and going quickly too. Rafe was desperate to get this part over with so they could handle business, make some money, and he could celebrate by going to a party he’d heard about earlier. 

But then she came in. And suddenly this was something entirely new.

“Dad, I’m gonna go to a party with Sarah after dinner. Can I have some money?” 

There she is. Her shapely body draped in a silky green dress with pretty pink roses, her manicured fingers already outstretched toward her father. Glossed, rose petal lips pursed as she waits for the bills to be placed in her hand. 

Milan. Rafe forces his eyes away from her, feeling two warring feelings flood his body as he wills himself to keep his eyes on her father instead.

“Without Milo?” Gregory asks. 

Milan rolls her eyes to the ceiling, huffing and crossing her arms over her chest, pushing her breasts upward and causing Rafe to work his jaw lightly. “‘M grown, Dad.”

Ward would never tolerate that tone…neither would I.

“We’re in a new place, your brother’s away on business-” Rafe can immediately feel his father’s eyes burning holes into the side of his head. 

Milan’s eyes slide shut as she takes a deep breath, retracting fully and turning to leave the room. She was so caught up she didn’t even notice Rafe. It aggravated him. Spoiled. She’s spoiled. 

I can fix that. 

Eventually they get dinner started and it’s like the interaction hadn’t happened. Milan sat through the dinner and acted her role accordingly. She introduced herself to his father, which clearly had impressed Ward. She made her obligatory conversation points, but mostly chatted with the other women at the table. When Rafe pulled out her chair, she smiled at him prettily but aside from that, gave him no indication that she recognized him from earlier. 

Rafe tries to focus on talking shop with his dad and Gregory, but his eyes keep wandering back to Milan’s mouth on her spoon and the little hums that leave her mouth. 

The damn ice cream ain’t that fuckin’ good.

“Uh, yeah, I’ve been trackin’ the macro model for crude oil and uh, I, I’d wanna know more.”

“That’s great son, yeah, it takes time, but it seems like you're on track, maybe I could put you in contact with one of my buddies that does the numbers for me, then you can run them with your dad and I.” 

Rafe’s on fuckin’ fire. He’s killin’ this shit, and he’ll be deep in those Cabot pockets in no time. But all he could think about is the man’s pretty little princess perched on her chair a couple seats down, pouting as Sarah raves about how fun this party is going to be to Milan and Wheezie.

None of my fuckin’ business. 

“Sounds really cool, Sarah.” the girl smiles behind the metal spoon, sighing wistfully. 

Don’t do this shit man, Ward’s gonna kill you.

Her final sigh and last scoop of vanilla ice cream being spooned into her mouth through plump glossy lips is what does it.

Fuckin’ weak, Cameron. Over some pussy?

“Uh, Gregory, I’m goin’ to this party too. I’m takin’ Sarah, there’s no reason why I can’t keep an eye out for Milan too.” 

If looks could fuckin’ kill. 

Ward is staring Rafe down with a look that would have a weaker man retracting his offer immediately, but the bright smile that plastered across Milan’s face made Rafe stand his ground. 

Gregory is simply pensive. His eyes flick between his daughter and the Cameron siblings. “How old did you say you were again?”

“21, sir.” 

Gregory’s brows furrow as he looks Rafe over again, before turning to Ward. “Reminds me of my boy. Protective over his sister and her friends. Good stuff, Cameron.” He turns back to Rafe with a menacing look on his face. “Back like I sent her, Rafe.” 

“Of course, Gregory.” 

The older man couldn’t have known what he just allowed.

“Fuck, Sarah, how long does it take?”

“I didn’t even want to ride with you, Rafe, John B. could’ve picked up me and Milan-”

“Yeah, well, her dad put me in charge of her safety, Sarah, and actually, Dad put me in charge of yours, so-”

“Oh my God, don’t act like…like you’re doing some noble thing, okay? I know why you offered to take us, cause you leave me all the time-” 

“You don’t know shit, alright, Sarah?” Rafe groans, backing out of his spot and turning out of their street.

“I know plenty, and I know you’re tryin’ to fuck Milan.”

“So what?”

“So what?” Sarah tosses her hair angrily, shifting in the passenger seat. “So, you’re fucking nuts, and she’s actually a nice girl. So, Dad’s doing business with her dad, that’s so what, Rafe.”

“I like, genuinely don’t need you telling me shit about shit Sarah, like for real.” 

“I really hope her brother is fucking huge, so he can kick your ass.”

Rafe snorts, slowing the car down a little and turning down the music as he pulls into the Cabot’s neighborhood. “Yeah, maybe right? Cause God knows your little pogue bitches have tried and failed.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Yeah, love you too, sis.” Rafe looks at the large house found at the address that Gregory had given him and unbuckles his seatbelt. “Get in the back seat.”

“Are you serious-”

“Back seat, Sarah, Jesus!” He huffs, slamming the car door and making his way up the walkway, stopping on the freshly laid cobblestone when the heavy, double wooden doors swing open. 

“Bye, Dad, I’ll see you later!” 

If Rafe had thought the dress Milan had on earlier was something, this skimpy number she trots out in would test any man. The girl absently twirls in her outfit. It’s a white two piece set consisting of a long, see-through skirt, barely hiding her white bikini bottoms and matching cropped top. His eyes trail along the dips in her waist, catching on the dimples on her back before finding the matching ones on her cheeks. All he could think is how perfectly his thumbs would fit in both sets of dimples. “Hi, Rafe.” 

He tilts his head back, openly staring down at her appreciatively. “Don’t you look cute.” 

With the shy smile that overtakes her face he all but expects the girl to melt under his gaze. Rafe is pleasantly surprised when she lifts her shoulder before brushing past him to make her way toward the car. “Thank you, I know.”

He chuckles to himself as the heels of her sandals clack on the cobblestone and stop just before the passenger door. Milan purses her lips without even considering touching the handle, rocking on her feet and swinging her purse absently as she waits patiently for him to come open it, just smiling when Sarah calls from inside the vehicle, ‘it’s unlocked.’

Rafe doesn’t know what moves him. Normally, he left girls to hoist themselves into his car as he hopped in himself on the driver’s side. But he could tell, this girl didn’t even conceive that she should be the one to open the door. No, she expected him to help. To care of it. And used her pretty little grin as his payment once he gets the picture and pulls the door open and offers her his hand to settle her into the seat. “You uh, you comfortable?”

She’d already pulled down the mirror and was reapplying the lipgloss Rafe was determined to taste, humming absently to herself. “Hm? Oh, yeah.” 

Not a thought behind those pretty eyes, huh?

I like that.

Milan watches out of the window as they pass by trees and grassy nooks. String lights twinkling as they ride by, people selling produce on the side of the road. The salty smell of water in the air through the open window. She could see Sarah in the backseat, smiling to herself as she texted on her phone. Milan’s own phone lights up as she receives the girl’s message. The two of them had really gotten along when they met at dinner earlier. She wasn’t expecting the blonde girl to be so kind and welcoming. The entire family had been really kind. Wheezie was a cute kid and Rose seemed like every other tired housewife in their world. A little fake, but ultimately harmless. Ward seemed strict like her dad. He seemed to grit his teeth angrily at almost everything his family said, only to offer a wide smile when her own dad seemed pleased, or at the least unbothered. 

And Rafe. Rafe was…cute. Hot, he’s hot. He’s handsome and tall, and can talk to her dad about all that business shit she didn’t give a shit to try and understand. And he’s attracted to her. Milan can tell. His eyes were shooting between their fathers and her the whole dinner. She felt the intensity of them even as she reapplied her lip gloss, as she chatted with his sister, when she’d taken a selfie as she leaned against the headrest, posing both for the camera and him. 

But for some reason he’s wound so tight. As hot as it is, it can’t be healthy how frequently that muscle in his jaw jumps, keeping in rhythm with the bounce of his leg and the drumming on his fingers. Milan’s eyes flick across his movements and her lips part as she considers asking him if he was okay. Her voice catches in her throat when sharp, blue lands on deep brown and his brows raise as if he were asking a sarcastic ‘yes?’ When she shrugs lightly, smiling in return, he sends her a smirk before turning his gaze back to the road, peeling off at the light and turning up the music playing on the speaker to drown out his sister’s chatting. 

Milan blinks at the heat she feels on her face and refocuses on her phone, opening her messages from Sarah. 

Sorry about my brother. He’s a dick. When we get to the party you can hang with me. :)

The party was apparently at some house on the beach. Young adults were filling the walls of the building, spilling out onto the sand and grass. The music booms in the night air, and the smells of salt and weed fills their lungs.

Sarah pulls Milan along, their arms looped together as she guides her away from Rafe as quickly as possible. The man is clearly disinterested in following, offering Milan a brush on the shoulder before stalking off toward the back of the house, calls of his name in greeting following his arrival. 

“Oh okay, yeah, my friends are in the kitchen, c’mon.” Sarah tugs her the rest of the way, leading Milan to the dark kitchen over to a crowd of people. She recognizes one of the guys as the guy on Sarah’s phone. John B. she said his name was. Apparently, normally, Sarah stays with him at his house but Ward had asked her to come around today to meet with Milan’s family, and she did it because they were trying to ‘rebuild their family’. “Hi.”

John B. turns to her immediately, a grin spreading on his face as he pulls Sarah to him, effectively separating her and Milan. “Hi, baby.”

His loud blond friend with his arms draped around a pretty girl with brown skin peaks his head out from behind them, pausing mid story, and drunkenly causing his girl to stumble with him. The girl follows his gaze and offers her a kind smile, pushing the blond by his face, laughing at whatever he’s mumbling in her ear. “Hi,” she calls over the music. “I’m Angel. This drunk dumbass is JJ.” She huffs, as he gives Milan a wide grin and nod before guiding Angel’s face back to his.

The tall guy next to him is flanked by a shorter light skinned girl and a girl pouring shots, laughing with Sarah, calling her a lightweight with a thick accent. “Cleo. You want one?”

“Yeah, I’ll take a shot.” Milan shrugs. Her eyes squeeze shut as the liquid slides down her throat, burning it and her mouth. She shakes her head, before letting the warm feeling spread in her belly. A hand on her elbow grabs her attention and has her looking over her shoulder. 

“Come dance with me.” 

It’s some random guy, already tugging her toward the crowd of moving bodies, not waiting for her reply. “Oh, no thanks.” Milan plants her feet, stumbling a little against his pulling. 

“C’mon, you don’t like to dance?”

“No, I just don’t want to dance with you.” Milan chirps, glancing down at her nails to make sure he hadn’t made her accidentally knock a gem off. She watches as the guy’s face shifts from shock to a deep frown. He roughly releases her arm and storms off. She takes a couple steps back to where Sarah and her group are standing, seeing all of the couples wrapped into each other. The light skinned girl reaches her hand across the island counter to get her attention.

“You good? I was about to make my way over. The guys on this island are entitled assholes.” 

“Yeah, that’s guys everywhere. It’s never the cute ones that come to you, huh?”

“Nah, it’s generally the creeps and losers who feel bold.” The girl laughs. “I’m Kie, Kiara.” 

“Milan. Do you feel like dancing?” 

Kiara shrugs, mumbling a ‘why not’ glancing back at her own friends before taking Milan’s hand and leading her toward the sea of people dancing. Milan twirls Kie as they step onto the makeshift dance floor smiling as they begin dancing together. The two girls take turns spinning each other, holding each other’s hips and guiding their dance. Milan can feel several pairs of eyes on them as they rock against each other, the base of the drum in her ears and chest. But her eyes only searched for one set in particular. She allows Kiara to turn her and flips her hair out of her face. And then they are. Steely blue. 

Rafe blows smoke from his nose before licking his thumb, flicking through the stack of cash Kelce had just shoved into his hand. “Aight.” He nods, reaching his jacket pocket and producing a small bag of coke. He’d been giving Sarah and Milan space. For one, because he genuinely does not give a fuck what his hoe ass sister does. If she doesn’t give a fuck about the Cameron name then she could take that dirty pogue’s. On Milan’s end, Rafe was exercising self-restraint. He knows that now that they’re away from their families it wouldn’t take long for him to crack. She’d looked fucking gorgeous earlier that day, and even more so at dinner. Now that they were at a party, and he could take a fuckin’ second to breathe outside of Ward’s scrutiny…he’d break eventually. He was relying Sarah to keep her busy and away from him so he didn’t end up fucking her and fucking up the deal their fathers were trying to work out. 

“What the fuck? That’s it?”

Rafe’s brows furrow as he looks at his friend. “Yeah, you fuckin’ druggy, told you I needed to go see my supplier. Your fiend ass didn’t wanna fuckin’ wait, so take it.” 

“Shit.” Kelce scratches his head, scooping out some of the white powder and leaning forward on the couch to line it up on the coffee table. “Hey, that’s the girl from before right? At the club?”

Rafe looks up to find Milan across from him in the other room. He watches as she twirls and rolls her hips against Kiara’s. Her shiny dark hair bouncing from shoulder to shoulder and her pretty lips mouth along to the song that’s blasting throughout the house. He runs his thumb over his bottom lip as he watches her movements, completely unaware of the group of girls trying to flirt with him and offer him a bump on the couch next to him.

When they lock eyes her smile grows even brighter and his own becomes wolfish. Her movements become even more daring, she dips low, arching her back before coming back up quickly, flipping her hair and rolling her full body. Her hands cover Kiara’s on her hips as she puts on a show for him.  

Rafe chuckles darkly under his breath as he drinks her in, sitting back against the couch comfortably as if he’d paid for this little performance.

It all ends too quickly.

The song changes and Kiara leans into Milan’s ear, murmuring something and making a smoke motion before heading toward the sliding door in the kitchen. The girl is gone for like a few fucking seconds before the fuckin’ loser bastards that had been lurking around them pounce on Milan. Crowding her, trying to usher her into a dance. 

She pushes up onto her tiptoes, looking over some guy’s shoulder to regain eye contact with Rafe, an offer in her eyes as she motions him over with her finger. 

Shaking his head and smirking, Rafe pats his knee, challenging her. He cocks his head slightly to the side when she gently shakes her own head, and gestures for him to come to her with a single finger.

“Rafeeee, you got anymore?” A whiny voice calls to him. 

Right. He was supposed to be moving weight. Damn girl is distracting him. “Uh, yeah, I’m low right now, so I’ve only got baggies, aight?” 

“That’s fine,” the girl says flirtily. He rolls his eyes as he feels her hand on his knee. “You have discounts for pretty girls?”

His eyes drag back over to Milan and his jaw immediately clenches. She’s still facing him, but this time she had someone decidedly less acceptable in Rafe’s eyes clutching her. He watches as some prick who he used to play league basketball with when they were fuckhead teenagers basically nutting on Milan’s back. Rafe’s lip curls as he watches the girl dance for this guy. He couldn’t even think of his fucking name. Milan catches his eyes again, looking at him through her pretty lashes, shrugging absently. Seemingly completely unbothered by the goddamn loser basically humping her like a dog. Rafe feels his head swim dangerously and his stomach turn as he watches weak hands trail along her perfect body. Her brow quirks at him once before she turns in the guys arms, turning her back on Rafe. 

“Rafe?” The girl to his side looks at him questioningly, briefly trying to follow his gaze with her drug-addled brain, giving up and leaning on him again. 

“Uh, right, I’ll give it up for $200.” 

The girl’s eyes widen as she looks back at her friends who gesture for her to try again. She smiles at Rafe and tilts her head toward him. “Um, how much if we can hang out a little upstairs after?” 

“Oh shit.” Kelce chuckles, sniffing and wiping his nose. 

Rafe rolls his eyes. He’s so used to girls offering to sleep with him or suck his dick for drugs. Usually they at least ask him to give it to them for free, this girl was gonna fuck him for a discount. He rarely takes advantage of it, on doing it if he was trying to hit anyway. Really, he doesn’t have to exchange free drugs for getting his dick wet. Fuckin’ look at him.  

Right now, he wasn’t really in the mood for random pussy. Not when he literally can’t fucking see Milan in his line of sight anymore. And that fucking idiot that was grinding his dick on her was fucking gone too. He needed to look for her ASAP. “You got the $200 or what?”

The girl huffs and digs in her purse, dropping the money in his extended hand and snatching the bag off the table, grumbling ‘asshole’ under her breath as she and her friends stumble outside. 

As soon as Rafe pockets money he goes to shoot off of the couch to hunt Milan down, only to be stopped before he can fully stand. 

“Is that cocaine?” 

Milan’s sweet voice puts him on red alert. Rafe settles back into his seat and looks at her. She’s staring down at the table worriedly, wrapping her arms around herself as she stands in the doorway. “Was that guy a friend of yours?”

“You didn’t wanna dance.” she pouts.

“Okay?”

“And I wanted to dance.”

Brat. “So you, uh, just dance with some random dick instead?” He asks, giving her a disappointed look and relishing in the way she shifts under his gaze. 

Interestingly enough, even with his glare, she doesn’t back down, pursing her own lips and sitting on the arm of the couch. “Jeez, you’re strict, I feel bad for Sarah. Is that cocaine?”

“Yeah, I just provide a little party favor for my friends here and there. What, you want a bump?” He starts to test her limits, resting a large, warm hand on her thigh, feeling her through the thin fabric of her skirt. Careful not to move and startle her. 

“I don’t do coke. D’you?” 

It’s her wide-eyed look. The dimpled frown as she glances back down to the white substance on the table. She gives herself away to him easily. Milan is a good girl. She’s just a good girl who knows she’s pretty. That’s what the whole dance was about. She was being cute. That’s what she does. But she’s not really about shit. Daddy’s girl with a protective older brother. Two dragons guarding their little princess. Never had anyone tell her no and mean it. If Rafe used the logic in his brain, he would know, he’s too much. What he expects of the girls he hooks up with. God forbid dates. He’d turn this pretty little thing out. He should be nice, and leave her alone. 

But Rafe isn’t a nice guy. Not really.

“‘Course not, can’t get high on my own supply.” He smoothes a thumb over her knee. “Don’t worry, Princess, it can’t jump off the table and get you.”

Kelce snorts and Milan’s brows furrow. Rafe whips his head around to his friend, nudging him sharply and sending him a silent message. “Oh, uh, I’m gonna get another drink. I’ll be back.” Rafe sends him another look. “Or I won’t.”

As soon as Kelce gets up, Rafe scoots over on the couch, holding one of Milan’s hands and guiding her onto it with him. “That was one of your friends from earlier right? At the country club?” 

“Yeah, Kelce, he’s a fuckin’ idiot.” He says absently, reaching over and grabbing the blunt he’d abandoned when he’d started dealing, re-lighting it. “You don’t smoke weed either, huh?”

Milan shrugs, scooting closer. “I just don’t know how to do it by myself.” 

God she’s just fuckin’ perfect isn’t she? Rafe hangs his head, letting out an exasperated laugh. It’s like she was sent as a test. She’s already bad as shit, she’s just sitting here, damn near in his lap with her big fuck-me eyes and wide-open personality. She knows she’s sexy and that’s just about it. But her dad let her go because he was supposed to be responsible. That’s big money on the table, and Ward would fuckin’ kill him if he was distracted by the opportunity to hit on the literal oil baron’s daughter. “Figures, pretty thing like you can’t do anything by herself. What, you need me to light it for you?”

“I’ve only ever had someone shotgun it for me.” She says.

Rafe’s hand is at the back of her head, fist in her hair before he can even realize what he’s doing. He pulls her close, tugging her against him and halting right before she hits his lips. He brings the blunt to his own lips, inhaling the smoke before leaning even closer, drunk on the way she’s looking at him. “Yeah?”

When she gasps out a breath, offering him a little nod, already puckering her plump, lips for him.

Fuck it. Rafe thinks. 

He could be a responsible man for his dad tomorrow.

[lovingmimiii]

Hey!! I was wondering if I could submit a request between Angel Dust x gn! reader. So reader has a secret crush on Angel (it’s not super obvious, but u can tell it’s there👀) and ever since Cherri decided to move in to the hotel and has gotten to know the residents a little more, she’s started to notice these signs😏 cue in Cherri being the best wingwoman ever for reader, but also embarrassing the shit out of them cause she’s a little shit���👑

While this is happening, Angel is just side-eyeing reader the entire time, giving them teasing, little flirty looks and reader is just like “fucking kill me now”😳 but once Cherri is done with her torment, reader ends up confessing (much to Angel’s amusement) and the ending is just sweet, cute and fluffy😘💞

Thank you so much love!!! I can’t wait to see what you write!🫶🏼

AWWWWW!!! This is so adorable! Thank you so much for requesting Anon, it makes my day better! 🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎🤎

ᡣ𐭩 ᡣ𐭩

ᡣ𐭩 Angel Dust x Crush! Reader . . . 🧸

🧸ྀི ~ Let’s get something straight here… you don’t adore Angel just because he’s involved with the pornography industry (because a BUNCH of people adore him because of that and his body). You adore him because of how he is deep down. Angel’s personality isn’t only the fact that he is a famous pornstar—there’s so much more to his character besides that and you see it as clear as day.

You love how he is genuinely able to cut the “Flirty” act of his and immediately turn serious when it’s needed. For example, one time you were really upset about something and it bothered you like no other. When Angel saw this he immediately dropped the usual act and comforted you. It’s like he knows how to switch out of that act he puts on to truly let those around him know that he does care about them.

Angel is able to make you feel so giddy inside everytime an interaction happens between the two of you. The way he sweet talks you is smooth like honey—The way he stares at you is so hypnotizing…

🧸ྀི ~ Of course, you didn’t want to blow your cover so soon. You tried to keep this little crush of yours on the low side and just went with the flow. You understood your feelings, accepted them, and now? Suffer in silence as you struggle to find out a way to tell Angel how you feel without feeling the overwhelming pressure of being rejected.

🧸ྀི ~ …don’t worry though! Your good ol’ friend Cherri is here to assist!

🧸ྀི ~ Once Cherri moved into the hotel and started to get familiar with the residents and what not, she immediately caught onto how you acted with her best friend Angel. Pfft, she didn’t understand how literally NO ONE else didn’t catch on! It’s SOOOOO obvious!

(Yes, this is what Cherri might do sometimes so just a heads up…)

🧸ྀི ~ You had your fair share with Cherri’s torment when she caught onto the fact that you had a crush on Angel.

*Reader ogling at Angel from across the room*

*Cherri slowly appears behind you, going unnoticed.* “…You like him don’t cha?”

*Reader yelps and falls on their face*

(Also with Angel witnessing this and immediately running to your side-)

🧸ྀི ~ GODDDD… Cherri is the DEATH of you. She will constantly find ways to embarrass you in front of Angel (like teasing about your crush in front of him or when your talking about your feelings for Angel quietly she just blurts out crap)

“Yeah… Angel is really pretty… I-I like him—“

“YOU LIKE ANGEL!? YOU THINK HE’S REALLY PRETTY!?-“

🧸ྀི ~ Everyday is like battlefield for you when it comes to Cherri but secretly you like the fact that she’s being kinda of a tease and being vocal about this because lord knows that you could NEVER do that… plus it’ll make Angel catch on…hopefully?

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

~ Oneshot ~ ! . . . ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹

“WAIT SO YOU LIKE ANGE-“

“SHHHHHHHHH…”

Cherri let out a muffled giggle from behind your hand as you silenced her. You stared back at her with disapproval as a blush rose to your cheeks out of embarrassment. Geez, out of everyone in this hotel—why did Cherri have to be the one to find out about your crush on Angel? Yet she claims that she’s being such a “good” wingwoman… Yeah right!

“Cherri… stop that! I’ve told you so many times…” You scolded with a whisper as you slowly removed your hand from her mouth.

Cherri shrugged her shoulders with a sharp toothy smile. “Eh, it was worth a shot! Fuck, I was hoping Angie would hear~” She said teasingly, nudging you with her elbow as you sunk into the couch. Your hands covered your face at the mere thought of Angel hearing her shout that out. It made your heart skip some beats… “Do you ever plan on tellin’ him? It’s been like this for MONTHS, bitch!”

Cherri didn’t disapprove of this situation between you, your feelings, and Angel. Cherri knew that you weren’t like any of the other assholes Angel has been around and she could tell. Hell, she never told you this but Angel talks about you a shitload of times when they are together causing shit. Not to mention how it does seem like Angel has some pretty deep feelings for you. She just didn’t make the effort to tell you because she knew that you could confess by yourself! Character development~!!!

“I-I don’t know.” You sighed. You genuinely wanted to tell Angel how you felt but you were too scared. What if he rejects you? I mean, that’s fine—but what if he doesn’t want to be around you anymore? Not only you’d lose your forever crush but you’ll also lose one of your greatest friends…”I don’t think I ever will…”

…

“BULLSHIT!!!” Cherri exclaimed as she abruptly stood up from her spot on the couch. “Well today, you’re gonna finally tell him how you fuckin’ feel!” And with that being said with no protests from you, Cherri grabbed your wrist and dragged you out of the Lobby and down the hall. You assumed that she was taking you to Angel’s room and that made your heart fall straight to your stomach.

“Wait—Wait, Cherri! No—I-I don’t know how to confess! I don’t—I don’t what to say!!—“

“Welp, it’s either you tell him,” Cherri started as the pulling of your wrist stopped, signaling that you two were already at Angel’s humble abode. “or shall I take the honors~?”

“No. No way.”

“Damnit… well, he’s all yours!” Cherri said as she pushed you forward. You stared at the door to Angel’s room, feeling shaky all over as you slowly raised your fist to knock on the door. You chewed the inside of your lip with such nervousness before gently knocking on the bedroom door, quickly putting your hand back to its placement by your side. You looked at Cherri with a worried expression and she just nodded her head at you as she leaned against the wall, giving you a big smile. “You got this,” she mouthed.

“I-I don’t think I do… Is this really the right choice?—“

“Sweetface! What’re you doin’ here at my room… at this time?” Angel’s voice had a tint of teasing to it which made your heart jump. You felt your palms getting a tad bit sweaty.

“I—Erm…I just wanted to—“

“THEY LIKE YOU!—“ Cherri’s mouth was quickly covered by you in an instant.

“Cherri!—shush…!” You said in a hushed tone.

Angel just looked between the two of you with a confused expression with a hand on his hip. What was going on with the two of you? Was this another one of Cherri’s stupid pranks or some shit? And why were you acting so worrisome?

Pfft, it doesn’t take a genius to know what’s going on. Angel hid the smirk that was fighting to appear on his face as he watched the both of you bicker. Angel knew that you had a thing for him…which is okay because he too has a thing for you.

“So…um…like I was saying, Angel—I—“

“They dream about kissing you every night and they really…REALLLYYYY want you to date them, Angie.” Cherri interrupted with a shit eating grin.

You froze right then and there… jesus christ, she could NEVER keep her mouth shut for the life of her couldn’t she? What makes it even worse is how it’s not a lie! It’s a truth! The full bloody truth! You just wanted to curl into a ball in the corner and just die…AGAIN! “I—No! No no—it’s not!—“ you tried to speak but Angel cut through.

“Is that so, hmmm~?” Angel said with a smirk on his face. His eyes were sharp as he stared at you with a flirty glint in his eyes. His gaze made your legs feel like jelly as you stood there shyly, fidgeting with your shirt. “Cherri, could we have some privacy?” Angel asked, his eyes never looking away from your nervous form.

“Will do!” With that, Cherri was gone down the hall. You didn’t miss the way she winked at you before taking her leave, leaving both you and Angel in the halls of the hotel together. No one else to interrupt you.

It was quiet. Silence. You didn’t know what to say to Angel. what should you say anyway? The word has already gone out, you like Angel— now he knows the truth. The silence was eating you alive at this point…

“…So,” Angel started. You could feel his breath tickle your face as he leaned down close to your face. You had no choice but to make eye contact with the other male with such bashfulness. “talk to me, Y/n. What was it that you were saying before…interruptions~?” The way your name slid off his tongue was music to your ears.

Now’s your chance. Your one and only chance.

“…Angel,” You started. “I…I like you. I’ve always had feelings for you. I wanted to tell you but I was afraid that it would ruin everything we already had together and I didn’t want that. I understand if you don’t feel the same as I do—I just hope that we can still be friends…” You briefly confessed. You felt a whole entire ton of weight leave you shoulders when you laugh all that out. It felt good to finally tell Angel how you truly feel down— if anything, it felt as if it was suffocating you completely.

Angel was quiet for a moment, looking down at you silently before putting a hand underneath your chin, tilting your head to look at him. You felt your face get warm when you saw that gentle smile of his on his lips as he stared down at you with such love. “Y’know, you really do worry too much.” He teased in a hushed tone.

“Y-Yeah..” you replied awkwardly.

“Well, lucky for you cause trust me, baby—I’ve always wanted to see how you are in bed~” Angel said with a loving voice.

“E-Ehh!? Excuse you…? A-Angel, b-but that doesn’t answer my question—“

“What? The question if I like you back? Damn, I thought you’d knew just from me saying that!” Angel argued playfully.

“Uh, well, I-I think I know…but I just really want to make sure that you actually feel the same way.”

Angel let out a small chuckle, caressing your cheek. “Fine,” he said before leaning closer to you and pecking your cheek which made your gasp suddenly. “I love you, Y/n~” he admitted. Angel watched as your face turned a bright red and it just filled in his inner turmoil.

“I…I love you too…”

[thingsidrawgohere]

I just finished my first run of DA4 and let me say- I probably got my money's worth. If one wants to view the experience via a purely mercantile lens. I found many bits of cheese and touched the insides of many angry creatures. But if one wishes to frame the thing as Art- Hell, if one wants to solely discuss it as the Fourth in a series of lore-dense, narrative RPGs, then, Cousin, We've Got Problems. Three interconnected niggling ideas that kinda all lead to the conclusion- for me, at least- that modern design practices simply do not trust the player. News flash, right?

Anyways, I think I'm going to have some thoughts on this subject to avoid other thoughts, thank you.

Full-Throated Spoilers Beyond. And a lot of them. It's long.

Idea 1: DA2 is my favorite of the series. That's not the problem; it's the setup. I know what I'm about and it's interesting characters interacting over time. Flawed characters. Abrasive, opinionated, STUPID ASS ANDERS characters. The story was scaled well for a handful of total losers and it was political. The most humanly political of all the games, I think. That's a very low bar, particularly for AAA, but it felt better to stand in a street, to be personally effected by events, than to look at a literal map of icons and notes and distant decisions as in DA3. It's important, I think, for DA to be about Being, Getting Dirty. You aren't a king. You shouldn't be.

Side Note 1: DA2 is a fucking miracle. The old gag that FO New Vegas, blessed be, was made in 18 months is trotted out to display Can-Do Attitude and DEEPLY unethical labor practices. DA2 got less time, fewer reusable assets (due to a different art style), and had to rebuild most of the engine. A. Miracle.

DA4, on the other hand, has a series of supportive, well-adapted people who have all worked very hard on themselves in therapy and know all the fucking right words to say. They chat with one another with kindness and sober fondness. In the One Instance of interpersonal friction, it is resolved with grace and speed. I find this Horrid. They fucking forgot to give these people negative traits. It's likability slurry. They experience no hard growth, hold no horseshit ideas, suffer no lingering doubts. It's not only unnatural but it's lifeless. It becomes Written. I can see the fucking author waving at me. I've got a note from my run that reads 'Rook told the man who is forcibly living inside his head "Thank you sharing that" and I want to scream.'

And that would be bad enough except the ideas are there. You've got a reluctant father story. Someone trapped between two cultures. A older man, already terrified of aging, of death, taking a Much Younger lover. That's Fucking Meat. I can see the writers straining against something but what they deliver is still person-shaped missed opportunities that repeat, that repeat, that repeat. It's So Frustrating. There's flashes of Good Writing. Of good character beats. But Also- from my notes, a character had just held her brother as he died, inexplicably for a second time, and Rook gives her a little pep talk that ends with him asking "You good?"

And the fucking woman says "I'm good" in response. She seemed to mean it.

How does one- react to that as a viewer? I told a man who wanted to be a lich more than anything to Not and he was cool with it. He never brought up being a lich again. He wasn't even upset. I let a man's city die and he's like I Get It, Bro. No Harsh Vibes. It rings hollow.

Talking over Solas' memories, collectively pulling out the meaning behind them- that was some of the best characters-interacting writing in the whole thing. And it's HOURS into the game. A shame.

Side Note 2: A lot of a loved-one death as motivation in this old refrigerator. If you get a name and one line, Oh Boy Brother, you are prolly gonna die bad. Lazy.

If I'm going to talk about Emmrich, let's talk about his romance. I honestly thought it was bugged. I Am playing through another run as a comparative but Wow. Larian and BG3 absolutely reconfigured what's acceptable in these types of story beats. This particular romance felt regressive, in a sense. Like a last minute addition. The very definition of love coins. No charisma or honest affection between the characters. Nothing allowed to percolate (more on that in a second). Just- now you are ROMANCED. Which means on the Blue Moon instance he has anything to say regarding being in a relationship, the best you can get is a 'dearest' at the end of a sentence. I was Excited by the idea of Emmrich really struggling with a May/December situation but he Doesn't. He has a few lines implying that he Could but it leads nowhere.

And they fuck in a coffin (???) and it's not even hot (!!!). Unforgivable. Double Unforgivable. I heard there was spice in this game? This is baking soda.

Related, a few lines awkwardly dodged the question of Emmrich's previous relationships and I have an inkling, without experiencing the other romances, that this is the world's largest case of gun-shy after the backlash with DA3's non-playersexual romances. This man can not be confirmed to be Anything but Into Rook, whatever they might be. There was also a throwaway line with Taash how she prefers women and that's as much as I saw of explicit preferences. I don't envy anyone trying to address the rabidity of fandom but it feels like unnecessary acrobatics.

Side Oh No: It's so bad that I'm honestly thinking of doing a fixit fic regarding the romance/character writing. And God, I can't right now. I have to finish my other project first.

Idea 2: The pacing. That's what ruins so much. There was a scene of a gnarled, fucked-up gate, torn from its hinges. And my guy says "Something Big must have torn apart that gate" all ominous, building a sense of- Nope. The very big darkspawn is standing ten feet away on the other side. I hadn't even swung the camera around the hall to see it before my guy goes "That big darkspawn must have torn apart the gate!"

Yes, I know there's an issue in open world games these days wherein devs are allergic to a player's millisecond of not knowing where to go but this feels applicable across the whole game. A problem isn't allowed to fester. It is brought to attention and then swiftly dealt with. If there's a locked door, a difficult decision, a feeling beyond Protestant determination, it will be dealt with, Post Fucking Haste. It's like the game doesn't trust the player to hold tension.

This happens not just in barks or small set pieces. Whole arcs work this way. Like Harding's longterm personal quest. She gets a handful of lines about feeling vaguely angry or perhaps thinking she Should be More angry about Lore Dump Retcon and then at her culmination, she's fighting her own anger. A vicious, hot, searing thing- and it wasn't earned. At all. There was room to telegraph this theme, bury it in the dirt to let grow roots. They didn't. One Line was given about her people pleasing tendencies And she's not really shown to be people pleasing to her own detriment. This is Chekhov's Gun in running shoes. It doesn't work. It feels like it comes out of left field.

Hell, there was a mission that was like SURVIVE IF YOU CAN and it was like- literally a long hallway. The Pacing is all Off.

Idea 3: I don't like that I must do this but DA4 doesn't understand its own flavor. The One Thing you Cannot Do is have Minrathous, the city of slaves and blood mages, seem nice. Particularly in the poor parts of town. You Cannot have the Crows be a lovely dovey band of scamps. You Cannot have the Blight be reversible. You Cannot CANNOT say "elves have it pretty good" as my Elvish Rook said with his face flaps. No. NO. You Cannot side-step the politics of this setting. These are the bones on which these characters are hung. To lessen the world is to lessen, to decomplexify them.

You know what my elf didn't hear in the town that canonically trades in bodies that look his? Knife ear. Eh to fantasy slurs but my point is no one said a cross word to my guy. The Qunari living in the town that had been warring with the Qunari for Centuries seemed totes fine. There were no alienages. There were no proper templars- even from other regions. No Mage Circles. No mage issues at all. Hardly anything whatsoever regarding the Chantry or Andrastianism, even as the game takes place in the Super Anti-Pope town. I had a literal demon-possessed man in my party and the world did not react.

I had a friend describe this Thedas as feeling smoothed out and Yeah. It feels like all the nasty bumps have been deemed undesirable. I don't know what to make of it. Is this simply taking the world in a different direction? Is it a mandate to tone down the unpleasantness, for sales? A shift in design ethos? Is this a sign of a very troubled project as it was with Andromeda?

I don't know. Is this still a Dragon Age game without its politics? There's enough here for me to wonder if Bioware is even Bioware anymore. There's a TREMENDOUS amount of work, of skill in DA4. Just Absurd. The environments are thick, Thicc. But work alone is not a virtue. Have we ship of Theseus'd so far that the people- the real people, not the logos- who have interests aligned with what made DA1 special are no longer there? Something went wrong with this project, narratively. Something I don't know how to fix without addressing basement level assumptions I'm clearly not privy to. I hope they can.

Final Thoughts: Game development is a fucking hole into which one pours one's relationships, time, and health, physical, mental both. It gives satisfaction very rarely. They shipped. In that way, huge success. It's not even, fundamentally, a 'bad game'. But it is a victim of a modern philosophy of pre-chewed ideas and player distrust. VGs are ultimately a business and, in these last few years, there's been a unimaginable devastation to the workers in the industry- even as the money flows ever upward. The desire to sell well has morphed into a NEED to sell well, even among the 'kept' studios. Big studios, Grand Dame Studios sitting on top of past critical and financial successes, been killed by their overlords recently. No one is safe. It's suddenly quite dangerous for large studios to make anything remotely niche, remotely unclear and Bioware has both Andromeda And Anthem under its belt. They're probably feeling the pinch. They needed a hit and hits, these days, are increasingly smooth. And DA4 is very smooth.

That's just my feeling on the matter. I'll see what a second run yields.

Smaller thoughts:

I don't care about the combat but that was- odd. The illusion of depth with all the skill trees and types of damage and subsystems of attack- all boiling down to a one button push. It's odd. I played rogue on PC so perhaps it's different for other classes, on console. But I pressed the button at the man and when I got a halo, I pressed another button and then pressed the first button again. No matter where I was on the skill tree, it never changed, never felt different. I don't know. It felt. Odd?

There was a Honest To God "It's quiet- Too quiet" and it just Happened. I would have pulled out every one of my teeth to avoid that. I get the jokey-okey but fuck, man.

Where's the chest hair? WHERE? Body hair? ANYTHING? Davrin has plastic chest. It's freaky.

Gloom Howler Gloom Howler Gloom Howler. Frankly, that whole storyline had a large gulg of the farcical. I laughed my ass entirely off when, upon her defeat, the Gloom Howler said "I'm sorry" and took a nap so hard that the scene wiped to 'some time later'. That was insane editing. PACING. And- naming. Gloom Howler. Gloom. Howler.

Teeth. Dear God, the teeth.

The devs were in a real pickle here, no doubt. My great sympathies. There's an Overwhelming abundance of world states that DA3 could have left on the board and I understand the balancing act between acknowledging the events of older games and staying generic enough DA4 could apply to All of them. Is Cassandra the White Divine? Or is Leliana? It's a nightmare of choices. Any of the people that Could be Divine can not be mentioned without lore issues. Who's on the throne in Orlais? Ferelden? Where's beloved so-and-so? Dorian canonically did return to Minrathous so he can 'safely' appear in game- but he fucking can't talk about Iron Bull, who may or may not be alive. Isabela canonically goes back to piracy but she can't talk about events in Kirkwall because she may not have been there for them. Oof. That's not a lot you are Allowed to acknowledge. The Poor Bastards.

Watched a braid slip off a person's shoulder, organically, as they were talking. Started at the bottom and look where we're at, technologically. And speaking on the technical, a lot of textures didn't load right. For the entire game, my guy's left shoulder armour thing had a much lower rez texture than the rest. Three hard crashes, which isn't the worst. One Wonderful mission wherein Lucanis' hair and his knives were the only bits of him to render.

I'm not touching the non-binary storyline. It was clunky, for sure, but the greatest sin was using Our words. There is canonical words for NGC/NB people in fiction and to not use them shows a fundamental distrust towards the source material and the players both. It's the linguistic version of the quest marker or the barks telling you where to go.

I still don't know how I feel about the dead Varric twist. Feels goofball but he got to hang out in his little pajamas. I wish I was in little pajamas.

Solas was pretty fucking tight but I think a lot of that was due to his VA. Something about the voice direction, in general, felt- flat? But old Solas was doing it good.

Ending. God, I get it. People are tired and satisfying endings are hard. And DLC exists, more cynically. But Hells Bells, I'm getting to the point wherein even the slideshow is annoying. Give me a fucking Ending to the Choice Game. Don't you fucking 'Spider-Man Will Return' at me, you bastard. I'm a child of fucking god.

Yes, I got the secret ending. I know. That was Also bullshit.

I feel better getting that all out of my system. Thank you for sharing that.

[calliecopper]

I've said this before, but:

Imagine if Kara's arrival at Chapman's Farm had been her equivalent of Markus' arrival at Jericho. Instead of spending the majority of her story stumbling around and running away from threats like Zlatko or the scrapped Bad Boys from Pirate's Cove, she could've been knowingly going into hostile territory with a mission.

Where Markus is the "face" of the revolution and is making big moves against Cyberlife and bought-out politicians, Kara would be making moves against on-the-ground threats to androids, acting as the "heart" of the revolution.

Instead of Rose being a single "good" human passively helping androids who hear about her by word of mouth, she could've been part of an active network. A network designed by deviant androids and humans to help other androids escape Detroit, the Cyberlife city, and get them across the border. A network designed to track down android fighting rings or red ice labs and put a stop to them since violence against androids is not a crime. A network designed to smuggle Traci models out of sex clubs and free them from the heavy abuse their specific model faces.

Kara could've played an active role in this network after discovering that escaping to Canada is not an option. She could've become a figurehead of the revolution on her own.

Then, Jericho and Chapman's Farm (or whatever the network would be called) would form an alliance. We could see Markus and Kara working together on a mission before the events of Crossroads or even Freedom March.

We could see a difference in ideology between two playable characters, or give the player a chance to voice any complexities they feel about a certain situation that may not be reflected in a singular one. One could sabotage the mission of the other if their goals don't align. If certain choices YOU MADE lead one character down a path that opposes the path of the other, there could be conflict between them and the player.

This would've also given Kara far more agency within her story, and could've added to the characters of Alice, Luther, and Rose as well. Then, as Connor, perhaps choices made throughout his story could lead to a divergence in his missions depending on what clues you pick up at a scene, leading you closer to either Markus or Kara.

Either way, seeing Markus and Kara interact more in a mission would've been interesting, even if it was only for one. I just wish Kara had more to do.

[buckleydiazmp4]

the reason poolverine is so appealing is also because in all of his two-decade run in the xmcu they have given logan some of the most boring and rushed relationships with women (because it was the 2000s and the mold that they followed for rugged manly protagonists meant an astounding lack of chemistry between them and their love interests in favor of giving them the "dead wife who has a montage at the beginning of the movie" treatment etc etc) and then they put him in a 2 hour long film with a guy even more insane and fucked up than him and they matched each other beat for beat. say what you want about the mcu but they achieved a level of chemistry between logan and wade that fox couldn't reach in 20 years with like four different love interests. which is also a petition for them to either go the gay route or finally let logan find a woman he has good chemistry with and who can pass the bechdel test

[welcometogrouchland]

ANOTHER SKETCH DUMP! Featuring more of me playing with lineless art. Batman reborn era trio (dick, damian and steph) I miss you...when will you return from war. Also featuring Steph designs bc I've seen ppl dissatisfied w/ her current look, some good mom Talia, and Jason Todd poetry club. Duke is confused not that Jason would start a poetry club but that he'd have such mid poetry opinions. (ID in Alt)

[fumifooms]

What if we were both magic prodigies and it otherized us in different ways and we devoted ourselves to protecting a family member who has general other goals & priorities. What if we both did self-sacrifical devotion in opposite ways.

What if we were dark mirrors of each other and where I've grown overcontrolling you've grown complacent. What if, bought as a servant into a pretty loving home, ownership and control is what love looks like to me, and to you neglected and lonely growing up, love is gratefully taking any scraps of it you’re lent.

By belonging to someone, even if she comes back injured or fails at finding Delgal, she feels like she belongs and is cherished, by owning someone he feels safe in them not leaving him.

She’s what’s tethering him do you see… And he’s the only thing giving her direction and purpose in her state. She needs a compass and he needs a support.

They’re both so out of it 😭 It’s the weirdly intense and unearned mutual trust and reliance on each other?? They’re each other’s weird little comfort codependent teddy bear. Or at least they were headed towards that before SHE DIED THEN HE DIED THEN THEY BOTH FORGOT ABOUT EACH OTHER AND NEVER MET EVER AGAIN. Though she’s also the guard attack hound keeping him safe… And vice versa he heals her and can rewrite her very being with just one wave of his hand. They’re both so so mentally and physically vulnerable both but they cling onto each other. They can’t perceive things accurately but despite it all someway somehow they stumble into something closer to resembling companionship just before they both die. Falin is just that kind and Thistle is just that lonely. Overworked. We both haven’t lived for ourselves in a very long time, haven’t we.

They both have a similar devotion to the people they love but again the difference is that Thistle starts overtsepping while Falin is self-effacing. The other difference between them is that people care about Falin <3 People have given up on Thistle long ago, and he has given people reasons to, while people refuse to give up on Falin. Yaad has a mini arc about it dw about it it’s ok he’s not all alone in the end 😭😭 He reached out for Marcille’s hand but they already all wanted to help him, they just had to be given the chance to, Yaad just had to be given the chance to, it’s okay I’m okay

Hey what if we learned to get in touch with our own identity and the world around us and living in the present again through being in the worst codependent situationship ever.

Falin and Thistle sitting in a tree, sucking on flowers together because they’re h-u-n-g-r-y 💕💕💕

I bet he’s only ever thought of flowers as useless ornaments. Weak weeds. But she shows him they’re tasty and useful and good and pretty in their own right too and deserve existing without proving their worth and waaa <33 Thistles…... Did you know thistles taste sweet if you remove the thorns and eat them?

"Even as a chimera, her kind nature remains" you can’t suppress her in the way that matters. You can’t soothe him in the way that matters. It’s doomed. You’re doomed. It’s all doomed. Save me.

[jackoshadows]

Additionally, the problem I have with Sansa is that despite the author putting her in these situations she is very static as a character with very little character growth.

I would have thought that Joffrey turning his sadism on Sansa would have caused her to change her opinions of Arya. Or that she would have more pity and remorse for her opinions of Mycah. Maybe some reflection on her betraying her father by tattling to Cersei, leading to the girls being stuck in KL.

We have entire paragraphs of Arya's angst of whether her mother and Robb would want her back because she had to kill someone to escape. Sansa never feels that same angst about any of her previous actions, she is always confident in the love of her family.

I would have thought that Sansa herself being a victim of Westerosi patriarchy in KL , being used as a marriage pawn, given less value because she's a girl, would have seen her understanding where Arya was coming from. Or the Tyrells having used her as a pawn would have her understanding that no, Margaery would not have made for a better sister than Arya just because she was so beautiful and graceful.

This is why I still don't stan the Stark sisters relationship. I need Sansa to grow as a character and learn to love Arya as she is for me to like their relationship. Otherwise it's just going to continue to be more hits for Arya's self esteem to have any kind of relationship with Sansa. Unless Arya grows to be confident and self-assured enough for Sansa's opinions to not matter anymore.

This is the same with Sansa playing a pretend bastard. As you mention, her situation is entirely different to Jon's because both she and LF know that it's pretense for a larger purpose - making her Lady of Winterfell in the North. Sansa never has the angst and internal conflicts Jon does, never experienced the ostracization that Jon did growing up in WF. Littlefinger gives her authority and power in the Vale that Jon never had. For example, pushing the Maester to drug SweetRobin.

For another, just like with her and Arya, there is no introspection here, no reflection on unfair societal prejudices. She is 'aghast' at having to play a bastard, she is embarrassed and horrified when Harry the Heir calls her one and runs off to LF to complain.

However at no point, despite playing pretend bastard for several months, does she reflect on her own classism against Jon growing up in Winterfell, that she wouldn't have had an issue at all if Harry the Heir had treated Jon Snow the same way if they met two years earlier. At no point does she stop to think - 'Hey wait a minute, maybe this whole bastardy situation is unfair, we shouldn't be prejudiced against them for how they are born!'

This is what is so funny about all the bnf Sansa stan essays about how Sansa was subconsciously basing her bastard persona on Jon Snow. For one Sansa does not even know Jon Snow all that well, they never interacted much, he does not show up in all her nostalgic memories of home and family. For another, she admits to basically forgetting about his existence until Myranda Royce mentions that Jon is LC at the Wall.

In fact Sansa continues to be classist, playing matchmaker for the bastard Mya Stone with the low born Brune because only the low born are good enough for the bastard.

And despite all the fanon/headcanon fanart of Sansa and Mya Stone being friends and girl power and all that - in canon, Sansa and Mya Stone are not friends. Mya works for Sansa, takes orders from her and helps transport them from the Eyrie. Sansa's friend is the high born Myranda Royce with whom she gossips about Mya Stone and her affairs.

Even Catelyn had a moment of guilt when she meets Mya Stone as she reminds Cat of Jon Snow before going back to her hatred of bastards.

"Mya Stone, if it please you, my lady," the girl said. It did not please her; it was an effort for Catelyn to keep the smile on her face. Stone was a bastard's name in the Vale, as Snow was in the north, and Flowers in Highgarden; in each of the Seven Kingdoms, custom had fashioned a surname for children born with no names of their own. Catelyn had nothing against this girl, but suddenly she could not help but think of Ned's bastard on the Wall, and the thought made her angry and guilty, both at once. She struggled to find words for a reply. - Catelyn, AGoT

And that's why Catelyn will always be a more complex, more human, better written character for me than Sansa.

This is also why it's utterly, absolutely baffling when fandom bnfs hold Sansa up as some kind of great social reformer, 'embodiment of hope' 'changing the system from within the system' and all that nonsense when Sansa is the most pro status quo and has changed the least and still holds to Westerosi patriarchal sexist and classist ideals.

Her story has never been about reform and change, it's been about taking down LF, about playing his game as dirty as he does, about the student eventually becoming the master and payback for what LF did to her family.

I really hate that Jon//sa shippers have equate Sansa's Alayne Stone arc to Jon Snow believing he's a bastard. Because those two characters experience totally different situations.

Even if Jon is at some point revealed to be a Targaryen prince ( which isn't confirmed for all we know he could still be a Targaryen bastard) it won't change the fact that for the first 17 years of his life he lived with the bastard stigma. Nor it would magically erase the feeling of not belonging he felt on his own home due to his status and the way his father's wife was treating him.

Meanwhile, Sansa has lived her whole life knowing she's a noble lady and even now she's posing as Alayne she still knows that she's a Stark of Winterfell. It's different to pretend to be a bastard than to actually believe your whole life to be one.

And since I usually focus my meta on Jon, let's focus this one on Sansa and describe how, in my humble opinion, I believe this comparison is unfair for her, too.

Sansa's biggest problem right now isn't that she pretends to be a bastard. Actually, that's hardly an issue for her considering that Petyr, who poses as her father, treat her like the lady of the house and allows her to have all the comforts ladies of noble heritage have. Her biggest problem is that she has to live with that predator, who half fantasises she's the daughter he could have with his beloved Cat and half views her as the idealised younger version of his beloved Cat. And honestly, living with a creepy pedo is one of the worst things a teenage kid could have to deal with.

Returning to her Alayne Stone persona, I do believe that Martin choose her to pretend to be a bastard for a reason. But that has nothing to do with Jon Snow or any other character fans ship her with. Shocking I know, but asoiaf female characters exist outside of your preferred pairings and some-most!- of their plotlines exist to cater themselves alone.

Sansa grew up with an narrow view of the world most Westerosi noble girls usually have. When Joffrey and Cersei showed their true colors and her father died, her fantasies were shattered but she continued to have a narrow view of the world as she was still a noble who right then was also a hostage. By making her pretend to be a bastard while she's in Eyrie, Martin has given her the opportunity to associate and talk with a larger variety of people than she could have as a noble lady. Also, by temporarily changing her status, she's given the opportunity to witness how things work for those who are less fortunate than those who are born nobles - even if this happens only on a theoretical level bc as I said above practically she's still enjoying the benefits of nobility. I do believe this experience of hers will enrich her view of the world and add even more layers to the already complex personality Martin has crafted for her. And I do believe it's a shame to diminish that for the sake of a crack ship.

[moeblob]

They're soulmates in every single universe and I miss them at the most random times.

[amluart]

A moment after the Siege of Eregion

[exasperatedoctopus]

Kira: the old Government sucked and only hurt people like us

Farmer: Your government sucks and only hurts people like me

Kira: :(

~~Three Episodes Later~~

Kira: All Cardassians are evil and should be punished for their Crimes

Random Cardassian civillain who literally couldn’t have done anything to help: All cardassians are evil and I WILL be punished for our crimes

Kira: :((((