#so they sanded away his nuance!

[simpforsolas]

i wrote up this whole rant yesterday about how I didn't find the Solas arc satisfying in this game, and seeing the ama and interviews today, I think I understand why that is lol.

yes, Solas carried this game. Yes i loved every time he was on the screen. yes his arc made me cry. NO it was not satisfying. and i'm just gonna go ahead and copy paste my rant explaining my feelings the best i can.

(i wrote this yesterday before all the revelations)

Solas's writing wasn't successful to me not because I think he was written out of character, necessarily. I think that every individual instance of his character being written on-screen was fine, but to me, his character was missing the wider context that put the isolated actions we saw of him in the game into perspective

The entire point is that the Dread Wolf/Fen'Harel persona that we see is a mask he wears. And that's fine, I like it! But what makes a mask interesting is to see what it's masking, and Rook doesn't really get to see that unless you choose the reedem ending. I guess what I'm getting at is that I craved to see more Inquisition-style Solas, in particular Trespasser Solas who was so remorseful but stuck in his ways, who stuck to his path but said stuff like "I would treasure the chance to be wrong once again, my friend." All these different sides are real sides of Solas, but because the game didn't really show us all these sides then we're left with a lopsided picture and now I have to deal with all these fools misinterpreting him all over the internet

I can still interpret it my way well enough, but the thing is that's my interpretation and it's a valid interpretation of the source material itself, but other people's interpretations are also valid because the game didn't really get more into his motivations other than "it's all mythal." But if you go back to inquisition, you can see how passionate Solas is about his ideals! His banter with other party members and his approval and dialogue you get with him really suggests that he actually CARES about his goal at an idealistic level, it's not just about regret. I like the regret! I like the history with Mythal!! I just wish it was more of something in his backstory that shaped him to who he is today and is something he needed to work through in order to finally see things clearly, instead of being the one magical thing that had to happen for him to get his "redemption"

I'm also rather frustrated that the right answer was just going straight back to the status quo, when we KNOW the veil is falling apart and shattered and an unnatural wound inflicted on the world that turns spirits into demons, prevents the world from achieving the magical/technological wonders it once had, keeps elves from immortality, and creates this fear and class difference between mages/non-mages and people who understand the fade and those who don't. Like when I replayed Origins i was struck by how many plot points are basically "the veil is weak here which means that there are demons here and they killed hundreds of people!!!!!!" Things like that are still going to be a problem hello why was none of this addressed 😭😭😭 I wish we could've validated the problems Solas's plan resolved to fix instead of saying "you just need to move on man this is just you taking your issues out on the world" because it WASN'T THAT

'm also really frustrated that we don't see a SINGLE big plan of Solas's go right because I know my man, I BELIEVE in my man, I know that he was smart and clever and had wins!!! I don't mind him fucking up but when all we ever see of him are major fuck ups it annoys me because COME ON. He's the DREAD WOLF. He knows how to make plans and carry them out. He saved thousands of slaves during his time, he fought and won countless battles, he locked away the Evanuris! Sure things fell apart in the actual veil part but he was able to trick all of them and did succeed in locking them away. The only thing we actually see him accomplish in this game is escaping regret prison, which is instantly seen as less cool because Rook gets out after like five minutes, and taking down the archdemon which was pretty hot but that wasn't about trickery, that was him engaging in straight up physical fighting in his wolf form. Anyway it frustrates me because now people in the fandom can rightly laugh about him being stupid and having bad plans. Yet I can't help but go back to inquisition and listen to his advice, dialogue, etc, and he's always so thoughtful and wise! So i just find it hard to believe that this man is incapable of taking a win. even if he kept all the Ls in this game but they had included a few more wins i wouldn't even be mad but it was literally just a collection of Solas's Ls and it frustrates me because I think he's better than that

i'm just worked up about this because i've been seeing takes about solas from people who used to like him but this game made them hate him, and the fact that the source material from datv as an isolated game actually supports their perspective is driving me insane. cuz if you ask me a lot of solas's character and motivations between dai and datv are actually at odds with each other. even if the surface characterization is absolutely on point, there was just so much context and scope that we're missing in this game. i can't handle it

[grandline-fics]

Hello. I love your works <3

Can i request Candlelight Dinners with Crocodile?

DESCRIPTION: Candlelight Dinners- What could possibly go wrong when a grand romantic gesture is planned?

WARNINGS: none

CHARACTERS: Crocodile

WORDS: 1,056

A/N: Another entry in the Valentine's Event. Thank you so much for the request @sagyunaro! I hope this was to your liking

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST | KO-FI | VALENTINES EVENT MASTERLIST

————————

Crocodile prided himself on being a man of action. Of setting his sights on something and doing all in his power to obtaining it. In any of his business practices-both legitimate and criminal- were he to see an issue or place for improvement, he executed it without a second thought because wanting to be successful meant having the highest quality results and there was no room for any sort of lacking in his life. That mindset held firm in his personal life too. Granted a romantic relationship had a lot more nuances and different steps to running a business but at its core it was similar in its give and take. 

As he opened the door to his shared room with you, his gaze immediately fell to the bed. Namely how your sleeping figure was completely on his side of the bed, arms around his pillow and face buried against the fabric, trying to cling to some trace of him. He knew he’d been busier lately with work because of Cross Guild’s rising notoriety and that meant seeing you less. Seeing each other during the day hardly counted as any sort of quality time since you both were working. Crocodile gently used the curve of his hook to tilt your head and his eyes narrowed slightly to see the dark circles under your eyes. You’d tried to stay up to see him, even if it was just to say goodnight. 

As he readied himself for bed he began to formulate a plan on what to do. Crocodile hated any sort of imbalance and the last time things were truly out of synch with you both was during his time in Impel Down and the subsequent months after when he readjusted to his freedom. Not entirely his fault but still. Dispersing himself into sand, he reformed in the bed, replacing the pillow you’d been clinging to. He allowed himself a small smile when your body reacted in your sleep, already sensing the difference. Crocodile settled his arm around you, now knowing exactly what to do. 

The next day you were confused from the start. Crocodile wished you a good morning but apologised and said he wouldn’t have time to join you for breakfast before leaving for his office. That wasn’t the peculiar thing, you were used to Crocodile’s busy schedule. What confused you was how…off he seemed. Determined but tense. You knew that calculating look in his eyes anywhere but you just didn’t know what was going on. You didn’t get your answer until the afternoon when Crocodile appeared beside you and wrapped his arm around your waist and led you down the corridor. “Croc, what’re you-”

“Sir Crocodile!” You looked behind you to see one of the subordinates hurrying towards you both. You glanced at Crocodile’s hand on your waist tighten harshly in annoyance and frowned. The subordinate hadn't even said anything yet to bring out his anger. “I know you said not to um-” The subordinate hesitated when he saw the fury in the former Warlord’s eyes and quickly got to the point. “Uh-um there's an emergency! Mihawk’s asked for you…please?”

“It’s okay, love.” You smiled, sensing Crocodile’s hesitancy which didn’t help your confusion. “The sooner you deal with it, the sooner it’s over.”

“Fine, you’re right.” Crocodile nodded, pulling his arm away. “I’ll wrap this up quickly. Wait for me in my office okay?”

You nodded and smiled, heading in the direction of the office while Crocodile stormed off in the opposite direction. Still you tried to wrap your head around your lover’s behaviour. Nothing had gone wrong today that you could think of but you knew it was in Crocodile’s hands so it would be sorted efficiently. Content you finished the walk to Crocodile’s office and stepped inside, stopping to see his desk was cleaned and covered with a simple green covering now adorned it with two glasses and a bottle of wine chilling on top. Stepping closer you smiled broadly but you resisted the urge to pour yourself a glass. You would wait for Crocodile. So you got comfortable in his large office chair, able to throw your legs lazily over one of the armrests and waited. And waited. And waited some more. Just when you were about to get up and go look for him, you looked to the door as it slammed open and shut. Your lips quirked when a wall of sand formed against the entrance to block anyone else coming to bother him. 

“Absolute morons..” He growled out, smoothing back his hair, grumbling to himself more than anything. “I did not work through everything in my schedule just to be interrupted constantly by those overgrown children. Sorry about that, darling.” Crocodile sighed out as he stopped beside his desk, watching as you got to your feet to stop in front of him. When you were in touching distance he curled his fingers under your chin and tilted your head up so he could lightly press a kiss against your lips. “The last thing I wanted was to make you wait again.”

“You cleared your schedule? Why?” You asked, your smile unmoving and eyes bright at you stared at the man you loved curiously. 

“I wanted us to have a few hours to ourselves. The last thing I wanted you to think was that I valued the Guild over you.” Crocodile explained, though that plan well and truly went out the window when Mihawk and then countless others cut into that time greatly with their insignificant problems and reports. “Even if it was just sharing a bottle of wine without being bothered, I wanted you to feel reassured in my feelings for you.”

“Your feelings were never in doubt, love but thank you.” You smiled, touched that Crocodile would even think to do such a thing for you. “Now pour me that wine, I’ve been eyeing it since I got here.” 

Crocodile chuckled and lifted the bottle, immediately opening and pouring the dark liquid for you both. One of your most admirable qualities was your patience he thought. Through everything thrown at you you were the steady one, willing to wait for as long as possible if you found it worth waiting on. He counted himself lucky every day that you considered him worth it.

——————————————-

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[starseungs]

our love untold. hhj.

hwang hyunjin x gn!reader — for those who grew up loved, it eventually becomes a norm to the point that the nuances between its types become untold.

genre/s — fluff, angst, childhood friends to lovers, college au, fine arts student!hyunjin • 3.1k words

warning/s — miscommunication as a result of no communication, children being mean for no reason lol, not much actually

note — #3 on the your love through the ages series | gave hyunjin the confession of a lifetime so look forward to that ... i want what they have </3

2024 ⓒ starseungs on tumblr. do not steal, repost, or edit.

Hwang Hyunjin has always been a constant in your life. For as long as you could remember, a life without him was practically nonexistent. You had nothing against it, though. Spending your everydays with Hyunjin was a delight. The bond between you two was so strong that your families had no choice but to also become friends just so that they could finally satisfy both of your constant needs to be around each other. 

Fortunately, you didn’t have to do much for that setting to work out well since your families clicked in an instant. A little too well, in fact, that you may have doubted its authenticity more than once or twice during the span of your lived life. Hyunjin had his fair share of those thoughts alongside you as you caught both of your parents eating lunch together on a random Tuesday afternoon—notably without the both of you.

Granted, you should’ve already seen that this was going to happen. You and Hyunjin grew up getting significant amounts of emotional support from your parents, who had big hearts holding lots of love to share. Naturally, birds of a feather would end up flocking together; which could also exactly be said about your dynamic with your best friend. With the way you were brought up, it was almost impossible for you to turn out any more different than the ones who raised you—to which you, to no one’s surprise, did end up adopting their tendency to express love easily towards others. 

If only your younger counterpart knew how hard it was actually going to be to feel reciprocated in society.

You remember the scene like it was just yesterday, with the feeling of the soft play sand being molded by your little hands still fresh in your mind. The local playground sandbox was five-year-old you’s favorite spot in the whole world, just right beside your family home’s living room. It was a place where you felt at ease, happily sculpting clumsily shaped masterpieces from the slightly damp medium as your parents sat on a bench a few meters away, joyfully taking the opportunity to have some time with each other. 

On a normal day, things would stay that way until right before three o'clock, when one of your parents would scoop you up to go home (the parent was often your father, who pitifully had a massive losing streak on rock paper scissors). However, that particular day was unlike any other day you’ve had so far.

The anomalies started with two kids looming over you, their eyes shining with a mischievous glint. Despite the number of times you’ve gone to the playground, you have never actually interacted with the other kids there. Your family had just moved to the area three months ago, and you were still yet to enter an actual school where you could familiarize yourself with nearby children. 

While you did have thoughts of approaching the ones you saw often in the playground, your first attempts at doing so ended less than ideal, with the kids being uncomfortable with you being someone new. Due to that, you stuck by yourself for a while with the mindset that you’d be friends with whoever wanted to approach you instead. And that was why seeing those two children standing next to your sand sculptures instantly put a smile on your face. 

Their words started off innocent—simply asking why you were playing all alone. Yet when you joyfully explained why, your expectations for the interaction took a wrong turn. The two kids started teasing you, saying that you must’ve been really lame for no one to even want to become your friend. 

At first, you were mad. You wanted to let them know that you tried your best to make friends, up until you realized that it was you who wanted to be friends with them too, to which you started to become self-conscious. Thoughts like ‘what if they’re right?’ spiraled in your little mind, making you unable to say much in defense. The last straw was when one of them kicked the little sand house (which, in truth, looked more like a square hill) you were working on, making beads of tears decorate your waterline.

However, the tears didn’t actually drop until a pitched voice of a boy called out to the three of you staying at the sandbox. You watched as the new face marched in a determined manner towards all of you, only stopping in front of the two kids who teased you. Your glistening eyes watched in fascination as he scolded the other two, telling them that they were being mean to you. Thankfully, the whole exchange ended without much issue—the kids then muttered a short apology before scurrying away. The slightly taller boy stared at you before bending down to plop himself in front of your now-ruined sand house.

“Are you ok?” He says, his gaze now locked at the pile of sand between the two of you. 

You could only nod enthusiastically, again happy to have someone talking to you positively. “Yeah,” you said while scooping up a small amount of the fallen sand. “I wanted to play with them, though.”

The boy before you beamed. “I’ll play with you instead!” He reaches for a handful of sand. “My name is Hyunjin. I like the sandbox too.”

That was how your parents found you a little while later, excitedly squealing while clinging to Hyunjin with a vice grip. His parents soon followed suit, joining yours in watching him grin while listening to you plan to build a model of your dream home together with sand. Numbers and words of appreciation were exchanged, officially starting the days with Hyunjin as your closest friend.

Being best friends with Hyunjin was basically like having someone attached to your hip, with the only difference being that you also wanted to be attached to his. If possible, you liked to do everything together—there were meals that were shared at the same table, outings that were done with both of your families, and schoolwork that you did together without even needing a word of agreement. Days, hours, and seconds with Hyunjin were a norm in your life, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Growing up, you never really questioned the comments thrown at the two of you. With how close you two were but looking miles different from each other to be relatives, the common conclusion people normally had of your relationship with Hyunjin was a romantic one. He was often attentive when it came to you—always bringing you snacks for lunch, spontaneous gifts just because something reminded him of you, and carrying your bag like it was the most normal thing in the world. This was often dismissed by him, though, which made you follow suit. After all, you yourself couldn’t see where the thought even stemmed from. You did acts of service for him too. What mattered the most was that you liked Hyunjin as he was, so hanging out with him constantly was reasonable in your eyes.

Well, that was until your first year in college, years after your initial meeting.

“Do you ever think it’s odd?” You start carefully, slowly pulling your hands away from his face after smoothing out his skincare mask. Hyunjin cracks open his left eye to glance up at you from his head’s position on your lap.

“What is?”

You motioned toward the situation you two were in. “That we still hang out like this. Even though we’re not kids anymore.” Hyunjin evidently frowned underneath the mask, slightly creating folds that showed his displeasure.

“No?” He replies, almost offended. “Why would I think that?”

There was truth in his words. Just like he said, why would he be offended? The two of you were never bothered by what others thought before, so why start now? You pursed your lips. Perhaps you were the only one suddenly having an issue.

It all started when you went out for dinner with a couple people from your department. The table talk was just as usual—until they mentioned Hyunjin. Some girls you went to class with expressed their jealousy towards your relationship with your ‘boyfriend', which they described as ideal. Your attempts at correcting them only ended up with you in the hotseat, being grilled like the meat everyone was eating at the moment. There was no way he didn’t have romantic feelings for you, they said. The dynamic they’ve observed so far between you two was too much to be platonic, they added. Their words only added fuel to the fire that was your frenzied state when they asked you to confirm specific scenarios that had happened with Hyunjin, to which they snapped their fingers and yelled out that it was clearly something lovers do. 

But what was exactly so wrong with best friends still having sleepovers in their early twenties? Was there a problem with the two of you making plans just for the two of you that lasted the whole day? So what if he had the tendency to buy you both matching items? Sure, his parents call you often to check in, but isn’t that normal? You’ve watched how your parents treated their other friends with love in similar ways during (limited) times you’ve met them too, so why were you now so conscious of everything Hyunjin did ever since that dinner?

“I don’t know,” you said meekly. “It’s just that I feel like I’m taking too much of your time. These are things you should be doing with your significant other, not your childhood friend.”

When Hyunjin scoffs at your words, your eyes widen. “Well, I don’t have a significant other, and I’m doing this,” he points to his facemask, “with you right now. You can worry about it when the time comes.”

You didn’t know why, but somewhere deep in your heart, you never wanted that time to ever come.

Life always comes with surprises, though. The moment you unconsciously dreaded came sooner than you expected it to—just a whole year after your conversation over skincare in your tiny apartment room. Your fear came in the form of a student shifting to Hyunjin’s major, her skills catching his attention that was normally on the both of you. First came the comments, with Hyunjin complimenting her outputs in their classes together, telling you that the new girl had serious talent and how she should’ve majored in fine arts from the beginning. Next came his gaze; curious eyes always landing on her whenever she appeared in the vicinity you two were in. A growing feeling clawed at the pits of your stomach that made you nauseous every time you saw his interest cement on her. 

How amazing was that for you, because now you had to distance yourself from someone who was basically your other half, just because you couldn’t handle the ugly thoughts you had for your best friend’s happiness. The last thing you wanted was to hold Hyunjin down—he deserved to freely like who liked, and decide who he wanted to be with as he wished. And until your brain gets the memo to agree with it, you were going to stay out of his sight for as long as possible.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, was a complete mess. The poor man was lost; the past few nights were spent pondering over what he could’ve done wrong for you to avoid him so obviously like this. It had only been two weeks, but Hyunjin felt as if you had gone M.I.A. for two years instead. He had never gone this long without you, always making sure to contact you as frequently as he could when physically apart. To be fair, you still did answer to his texts, even if they were riddled with ice and coldly cut short. You had gotten skilled at dodging his visits too; always either out of your apartment or having found different routes out of your department’s building when he stubbornly waited outside. A few of your class friends gave him looks of pity whenever they saw him still adamant to see you, telling him to hang in there and that lovers’ quarrels don’t last that long.

Lovers. That was a familiar description Hyunjin has heard over the years of your friendship. He had always denied them politely out of respect for you, but they were always kept in the corners of his mind. Truth be told, the thought confused him endlessly. What was it exactly that others saw in the way he acted that he didn’t? His parents always told him to treat everyone he appreciated with love, and that he did—especially with you. He’s seen the way his father showed his appreciation for his mother and aimed to imitate that (yes, his father loved his mother romantically, but his father also gave gifts to his friends, so what was so different?), but all that ever did was bring suspicion over you two. 

But you were happy with his acts of care, and it made him happy too. Shouldn’t that be the only thing that matters? Clearly, not with the way he was stuck in front of his blank canvas, the eerie color of plain white glaring at him to complete his painting project. Except that Hyunjin found himself completely unable to do so. His mind was barren, with not a single inspiration in mind. And this worried him.

On any other day, he was what you would call the epitome of a creative soul. He saw the world around him in a naturally imaginative way, easily piecing stories in his head from the smallest of things. It was the same reason why he chose to be in fine arts, majoring in studio arts, where he could relay his own vision. In short, Hyunjin had no clue as to why he was even struggling this much. He found himself comparing his skills to those of the new student in his department once again. Oh, how he wishes he could go and ask them for advice—her work served as an ignition for him to do better. 

As one of the best students in the program, he found himself seeing her as a rival of sorts. Not anything negative, though. A healthy one-sided rivalry, if you will. Groaning, he shifts his gaze from the canvas to give his eyes a break, casually scanning his previous works propped up in a nearby corner. As he continued to work his way through them from afar, his mind floated over to think of you. 

In that split second, something seemed to click in his brain.

You watched your clock tick at an even pace, the hands displaying the ungodly time that was judging you for still being awake. Granted, being awake at two in the morning was miles better than still being awake at four, which was just asking for an eventual headache since you still had class in the morning. The past few days have felt odd, to say the least. Despite knowing exactly why that was, you refused to acknowledge it—still hung up on the thought that you should get rid of whatever you were feeling before you would face Hyunjin again. Yet, it was times of the day like these when you wondered how he was doing without you. Probably still well, right? If it’s Hyunjin, then he would have no problem getting along just fine with other people.

A frantic knock on your door made you jump out of your thoughts with the way it echoed through the silent space. Like any other person would, you were automatically on guard. Who in their right mind would visit you without warning in the depths of the night? It was only when you saw your phone turn on with a message notification that you scurried to fling the door open.

“Hyunjin!” You fussed over him, gripping his arms firmly to give him a thorough lookover. “Is everything okay? Are you alright? Did something happen? Does something hurt—no, did something hurt you?” The words seemed to roll off your tongue so easily, preventing you from snapping out of your worries to see what expression he had on. All your mind was telling you was to find a way to chase whatever problem he had far, far away from here, where it could hurt him. But your rambling came to a halt when you felt his body slump against you, feeling the way he shook as suppressed sobs were forced out of him. Alarm bells immediately rang in your head.

“Let’s go inside first—”

“I’m so sorry,” he hiccuped. “I’m so sorry. Really sorry, Y/N. I don’t even know if I’m apologizing for what I’ve done for you to avoid me like this, or for not even knowing why you’re avoiding me in the first place, but I’m so sorry.”

“Hyune, no—”

“I know I can be an idiot at times, but I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you like this,” he said, still crying his heart out. “I was struggling to find something to paint about for my project earlier, and I can’t believe it took me this long to even figure it out. I can’t go on with meaning in my life without you, Y/N. You’re everything to me. You’re my world, my muse, and my light. For the longest time, you have been, and I would even risk saying that you have since the moment we met on that sandbox. All that I am has pieces of you deeply imbedded in my soul, and the reason why I see my surroundings in vibrant colors. Everything reminds me of you, and us, and all the times we’ve spent together and losing you would be the same as losing me. Y/N, I love you in a way I could never give to others—”

“Hyunjin.” You cupped his face, coaxing him to breathe. An imaginary string inside of you stretched and tightened as you looked at his mesmerized face, looking at you like you had hung the moon up in the sky. His eyes showed an emotion you were well acquainted with, yet the intensity and fervor burning inside were unfamiliar to the ones you had felt before. 

This was definitely love. And it was the type of love you had spent the past couple of years pondering. The answer finally came to you. Hyunjin breathes.

“—It’s you, and always will be.”

You closed the gap, the touch of both your lips saying more than what was ever confessed from when you were five to the present.

It was your love untold.

SERIES TAGLIST ━ STATUS: OPEN — ASK OR COMMENT 🫶

@fairyki @hysgf @euncsace @comet-falls @starlostseungmin @ameliesaysshoo @hyunverse @djeniryuu @lixxpix @xocandyy @heaveniseverywhere @kayleefriedchicken

[ganondoodle]

(new totk rewritten - super rough concept)

so this was a super rough sketch for retrieving the enigma stone of the zora- im currently redoing it since im not happy with this one-

but i have run into a bit of a problem; see the reason why theres monsters causing trouble everywhere is bc ganondorf is trying to keep the stones out of raurus hand(s) thus creating all those bosses to hopefully stop link from reaching them, or at least to slow you down BUT i cant seem to decide whether it makes more sense if the whole reason they are split up among the other regions is because the ancient .. 'sages' wanted to ALSO keep them away from rauru, or if they were instructed by him to do this and await his return (which would be a good reason why they are wearing that sonau helmet still .. if they werent completely in on it i doubt they would do it lol)

(the thought being, would rauru be more likely to not give the stones away at all or he was too afraid that gan could wake up earlier/break free and get his hands on them first- so he sends his trusty servants- sages out to construct big temples and await his return but to stop gan if he were to seek them out first ... also possibly so all the stones arent in one spot, since they, in my rewrite, are the highest concentrated version of spirit energy and would emit an extreme amount of energy likely to attract something... yeha its all based on luminous stoens containting spirit energy and that also powering the shiekah tech .. made a diagram (?) about it once actually, though some parts arent true anymore bc im omitting the whole dragon transform stuff)

(im also using this concept for the skyward sword comic btw, the mining of the timeshift stones being the reason the lanayru region becomes a desert bc the lands been robbed of life energy meant to go back into the system over time edit: i mean this as in an environment was drastically altered from its natural state in an extremely short amount of time, which is generally a bad thing, not as in desert areas just being dead sand filled wastelands, theres plenty of life there if meant to be like that/given long enough time to adjust or turn into it)

while i want to make rauru a villain i also dont want him to be too overtly evil since ... thats kinda boring and just pushes that role onto someone else, im aiming for more nuance overall (which is also why gan isnt some goody two shoes perfectly fine with hyrule, like yeah .. the calamity was his doing still)- so im leaning more towards the latter- though perhaps the gerudo did so more with the intent to keep it away from rauru

(also, i am including mineru after all.. but only as a mummy like so (sorry) but her stone is gone when you reach it bc its been taken by the yiga- for which you have to tract them down and fight koga (and possibly supah/sooga) )

[jenn2sec]

English vers.

Based On My Dreams Series (RAW):

❝ Chase ❞

start - friday31022025

couple - Choi Seung Hyun (T.O.P) x fem!reader

note - softly, badwords(maybe?), Han Seo Hee (im a biggest hater), short

caption section - this short-fanfic is based on my dream, the only difference i edited is a little bit and the area where they interact, the rest is kept the same as in the dream. so i kept the presence of Han Seo Hee (who appeared in my dream). And remember, Han SEO Hee not Han SOO Hee!!!

We’re always open to feedback and ideas to make the story better!

The kids were ushered away from the playground right after you managed to call security. That woman, however, kept pushing forward, calling out to T.O.P repeatedly. But you stepped in, blocking her way.

“Please, just shut the hell up! And then get lost!!”

She kept advancing like a madwoman, teasing and provoking Seung Hyun as if she were high. In a fit of anger, you even grabbed a handful of the playground sand and held it up, threatening to throw it at her. Only then did Han Seo Hee curse under her breath and storm off.

“That woman… ugh"

You turned back to the slide, the tall tube one. Scanning around, you didn’t see T.O.P anywhere. Thinking he had already left, you let out a small sigh. But then, a faint creaking sound came from inside the slide.

Looking closer, you noticed a large shadow within it. After a brief moment of hesitation, you decided to crawl in as well.

“Seung Hyun-ah…” you called softly.

Since you weren’t Korean and didn’t fully understand the cultural nuances, you instinctively called him by his name. The moment you realized it might be too informal, you quickly pressed your lips together, staying silent.

T.O.P didn’t reply. Instead, he hesitantly lifted his gaze, looking directly into your eyes. His long, thick lashes and sharp nose made you hold your breath for a moment. The space between you two felt like it was shrinking, tightening with an unspoken tension.

The positioning was… strange, to say the least. T.O.P, being tall, was lying flat inside the tube slide, while you were halfway inside, lying on the playground floor. Your heads met near the opening of the slide, making it look like two adults playing a children’s game. Yet, somehow, the atmosphere between you both shifted into something much more intense—just from his sheer beauty.

Fine, maybe you were being immature, but could you really be blamed?!

“Are you okay?” You asked, knowing full well how pointless the question was. So, without waiting for an answer, you quickly changed the subject: “There’s an ice cream shop nearby. Do you want to go there with me?”

He exhaled, a deep and shaky breath, closing his eyes before resting his forehead against the slide. Just as he was about to answer, your hand moved on its own, reaching out to touch his hair.

“Seung… Seung Hyun-ssi, I chased that woman away.”

“You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’ll chase away everything that upsets you.”

“So… let’s go get some ice cream, okay? They have peach flavor—I researched carefully for today.”

Choi Seung Hyun studied you quietly. His lashes were slightly damp, probably from Han Seo Hee’s presence earlier. His lips, too. Maybe he had shed a few tears while you were dealing with that woman. Right now, he looked like a kid who had just stopped crying—one who was listening to his mother promise him sweet treats to cheer him up. Happy about the candy, but secretly wishing for a bigger gift.

Looking at him like this, you couldn’t help but smile, your eyes crinkling slightly as you admired his beautiful yet childlike face.

“I promise it won’t trigger your allergies. That place is really careful. The ice cream is made from real fruit.”

Your voice lifted a pitch or two, becoming brighter, lighter. And it made T.O.P smile. He pouted slightly before speaking, his deep voice laced with playful mischief.

”________”

_____

F i x a r a w S o f t e n

friday31022025

05:50

︾︾︾︾︾︾︾

to speed things up and because my english isn’t really that good, i decided to use a translation tool to help with the language switch.

this short-fanfic is based on my dream, the only difference i edited is a little bit and the area where they interact, the rest is kept the same as in the dream. so i kept the presence of Han Seo Hee (who appeared in my dream). im sorrynot sorry if i made Han Seo Hee fans unhappy with the way i dreamed about her(ngl, im her big hater for all the nightmares she bring to anyone around her). And remember, Han SEO Hee not Han SOO Hee!!!

anyway, this post is a small part of my dream and i post it for reference, if i get support from you guys i'll continue it with a more complete plot! leave a comment or interact to let me know that this is really ok!!!

hope you all understand and enjoy ♡

[waitmyturtles]

Hey,

I'm not 100% sure how this works. Also this is more of an opinion than a question. I just feel the need to brain dump. You are under no obligation to reply. 😁

I fear that First and Khaotung are being wasted at/by GMMTV. They're both stellar actors and seem to have the sensibilities to tackle more serious material.

I feel like coming off Not Me, the themes in The Eclipse kinda went over my head. My fear was and still is that I didn't understand all the nuances. And that's why I felt like the show was lacking. Also I think the very first preview set it up as an entirely different show (more supernaturalmystery/thriller) in my head, so there was a disconnect there as well.

Their next project was Moonlight Chicken where both of them shined as actors but negligibly as a BL pairing. Having said that, they seem to be on very solid ground in the BL fandom - I am referring to their fan meets.

Only Friends was a masterclass of acting as far as FirstKhaotung were concerned (i was all about Ray and Sand), but I think the overall reputation as show that fell flat on its face overshadowed or at least took away (for me) from the gravity of FK.

And now we're here. With The Heart Killers and I am very wary of how Ota all going down. I see that the final trailer got over million views and I'm happy for them, but based on I think the absolute travesty that was OF, my expectations for this show are on the ground.

I really want more of an insight into how projects are picked up and distributed inside GMMTV (if you ha e any, I'm dying to know). I feel like they would benefit greatly from being on a show like PS I Hate You or something like Peaceful Property.

It feels like they're backsliding in terms of material given. Which I am sure is a) not their fault and b) me possibly being weird and dramatic in the wee hours of the morning. But I wanted to get it off my chest and I was reading your previous reviews when I felt, and then gave into the impulse to write to you.

Also I'm a MaxTul girly too and somehow, you made me want to give Make it Right another chance.

Have a great week ahead and keep up the absolutely exceptional work! ❤️

NIHILISTIC! It's great to hear from you! And thank you for the compliments!

TW for girlies out there who are not Nihilistic: this post will contain criticisms of The Heart Killers trailer. Read at your peril, delicate hearts!

I'll go backwards to save the biggest stuff for last. If you write anything about Make It Right, please tag me! @bengiyo and I always give a little DJ air horn to each other when we've nabbed another one into the broader cultural reconsideration of this AMAZING show. MaxTul, man. Nobody beats them! (Okay, almost, Tul admits he wasn't the strongest actor, but. We'll let it slide, dahling!) Chemistry, humor, pride representation, everything, they're great. I yelped when I saw them in Triage!

Okay, so you are a FirstKhao girlie, and you're worried about what The Heart Killers bodes. (Out of transparency, I have The Heart Killers tag filtered because of Only Friends PTSD. I'm gonna filter my own post!) For you, Nihilistic, I just watched the trailer for it.

I will get to all your questions about the GMMTV model in a moment.

Now, out of even MORE transparency, I am watching the MESS that is Kidnap right now, and listen, it's NOT GOOD. I'm fucking not even writing about it anymore, I'm just reblogging the sessy gifs. I am watching it to support Ohm Pawat, and am hoping that this partnership with Leng Thanaphon will hopefully lead to better scripts.... somewhere. (Or at least, better scripts for Ohm at a place like One31 or Channel 3. I also hope Ohm keeps up his anti-branded pair stance, but if GMMTV forces him to pair permanently with Leng, it won't be a fucking surprise, and more on that below.)

To focus specifically on THK for a sec: the THK trailer evoked a lot of what's gone utterly wrong in Kidnap for me. I think writing Thai BL/Series Y scripts to be different, fresh, and innovative, is just going to be really fucking hard, especially for stories featuring branded pairs that MUST end up together in the end. Because we, the viewers, KNOW that they MUST end up together in the end, what kind of mystery and conflict can a script convincingly evoke to keep us, the viewers, engaged and interested in the drama?

A few of us Ohm girlies were excited that Kidnap could have had non-romantic plot points (CRIME!!!) to drive concurrently with a romance plot. There are Series Y that have done this BEAUTIFULLY, particularly Sammon's stories of Manner of Death and Triage.

I'm sorry to say that I didn't get that from the THK trailer, and that THK smells a lot like Kidnap to me. The trailer itself is giving an indication that the "jobs" these guys have as double agents are going to be compromised due to them falling in love. And after the debacle that was Jojo Tichakorn's Only Friends -- a show premised on the exploration of mean, icky, really horny humans, a great place to start an interesting show! -- knowing that THK will HAVE to end up in a romantic place, with FK and JoongDunk being in memorable and memeable entwinements... that's a lot to ask of a show that already isn't making sense by drive, emotion, and tone in its trailer alone. What matters more to these characters? Their work, or their need to be in monogamous relationships? Seems like the latter to me by way of the trailer, which makes me wonder what the point of the plot is. (Joong's chest, probably.) (Gahddayum.)

(I haven't watched the latest episode of Jack & Joker, btw, but I understand that THIS WEEK's episode is ALSO going through something similar, with dead-end and uncommitted plot points all to get to a kiss. Oy.)

To summarize these points and to touch at your question about how GMMTV chooses scripts: GMMTV has an economic model to sell in giving happy endings to their branded pairs, which I wrote about at length in my Old GMMTV Challenge rewatch of The Eclipse. No matter where a script goes, the ending must be memorable and monogamous to satisfy the retweeting hunger of the branded pairs' fandoms, in order for GMMTV's artists to increase online engagement and to maintain earned media values to sell products.

The wonderful @flowerbeasblog noted to me recently that Tha Sataporn, the CEO of GMMTV, said in an interview that as the productions of Series Y in Thailand continues to increase, there is a greater need for more scriptwriting talent across this niche genre, creating competition for more excellent writing. (By comparison, in the States, when streaming services like Netflix and Hulu starting commissioning more original series just about a decade ago, the demand for scriptwriters and excellent writing also went up by incredible scale -- only to come crashing down recently with pandemic and strike-related losses in revenue.) GMMTV's recently announced script competition, Y Find, updated itself last week with a notice that the company would need more time to sift through scripts to judge. In other words: the demand for creative plots is so high at this company that they are literally fielding entries from the general public.

At the same time, Tha Sataporn has been blunt in indicating that "good shows" are not the priority of his GMMTV, and that talent, management, and engagement are his indicators of success. So, economically -- as long as a show hits that happy ending, and gets the girlies excited online with commentary and purchasing power, then the studio has won, in GMMTV's eyes.

ULTIMATELY, Nihilistic: what we are dealing with regarding your concern, as fans and/or critics of Series Y shows, is a conflict of values, among critical fans like ourselves, other fans who only watch shows for romance and shipping, and the economic bottom lines of the studios/agencies themselves. Some of us just want narratively good scripts, like Bad Buddy or He's Coming To Me. Others are content with having a show end with their fave pairs confirmed together in the end, no matter the process of how they got there. Those are different values we hold in watching shows. I appreciate that while you're a fan of the FK branded pair, that you want stronger scripts for them. I do, too, but that's not a value that every fan -- and GMMTV itself -- holds. And I believe that's why we've been seeing more and more mediocre scripts from that studio in particular.

I actually want to note maybe something positive about FirstKhao. Other than The Eclipse, it seems like they haven't been locked into high school or university settings. Only Friends, Moonlight Chicken -- these are shows that show First's and Khao's characters as young adults, and THK is going there, too. I hope they can avoid the university settings as they continue to work.

Is stellar acting wasted at GMMTV? Oh, yes. Besides First and Khao, who I truly think are good actors, we have Gun Atthaphan, Nanon Korapat, and Ohm Pawat -- these three guys are on my list of the best Thai actors out there who have done BL, and they haven't had great scripts in years. (Gun, arguably, has had the best pickings of decent shows recently in Cooking Crush and The Trainee, but they weren't high art; and Nanon's Dirty Laundry was the last Jojo script I was truly impressed by.) All three of these guys were in MOVIES at one point. Those ambitions, on behalf of these actors by GMMTV, seem to have gone by the wayside in preference for a huge economic push to boost branded pair-based series insteads, with their plot holes and guaranteed romances.

I hope the genre's tide turns for the sake of quality scripts, especially at GMMTV, but my hopes are low for this agency at the moment. My joy in Thai shows recently has been in watching past shows for my OGMMTVC. I've been on a lakorn kick lately, having watched The Miracle of Teddy Bear and I'm looking forward to watching Khun Chai soon. Other agencies and studios, like One31 and Channel 3, are breathing down GMMTV's neck and producing more interesting shows, sometimes with branded pairs and sometimes not. Triage only came out two years ago, and that show's trilogy (along with Manner of Death) will end with this year's airing of Spare Me Your Mercy, starring the very likely one-time pair of Tor Thanabob and JJ (Jaylerr) Krissanapoom, two gigantic artists in Thailand who are circling BACK towards the much smaller genre of Series Y for SMYM's sake. I have VERY high hopes and expectations for that show -- and that show is well out of the purview of GMMTV.

I think what you're smelling about the THK trailer is right, Nihilistic -- to me, the trailer isn't cohesive, and jumps already to its forgone conclusion of a romantic end. Unfortunately, for those of us familiar with Jojo Tichakorn's work, we know that if he was given more leeway, he'd likely come up with something more interesting. But now that he has to work with branded pairs -- who are shipped in the eyes of their fan beholders -- he's got a lot less room to be creative and interesting, which ultimately stifles the otherwise excellent acting we'd see from these young men.

[sukunasun]

Do you ever plan to write a fic with a grumpy reader? Maybe with Getou or any chara of your choice?

screaming from the top of a building: grumpy readers are so relatable and deserve more nuance than being labelled as ice queens and stone-cold bitches! there is much more to unfold beyond the harsh exterior. how cantankerous and irritable you are but nonetheless meant to be understood and loved.

quietly, you lay there stowing away as a recluse. you love your books and your crochet hooks. working away and making the most of me-time. people don't draw near. instead, they try prodding with sticks and hurtling stones for a reaction hoping it's a smile or a nice conversation between two, but there is no gambling and taking chances. no risking it 'depending on your mood' because the weather report calls for sunny skies and yet, the storming grey cloud above your head stays looming. permanently brewing.

you claim it's just your face, your attitude, and overall unapproachable aura that inhibits you from making contacts and connections. an RBF that can't be cracked. "she's so intimidating," is a grating sound. you have long since given up on explaining yourself or waiting for the chance to when the backstory and lore is too revealing. not exactly dinner party talk. you wish it could be as easy as saying "im hurt and heartbroken beyond repair. mothering fear and angst without needing comfort." it feels nice, well-deserved even to wallow in dread.

there's bound to be disappointment from unmet expectations thus, you've stopped having them altogether. it feels better than accepting affection with open arms. so wrong, so weird to be wanted, to be chosen. where's the catch? when will the other shoe drop? the cycle of starting over becomes tiring, tedious—a mechanical performance. a complex creature who requires better coping mechanisms and a man who won't stab you in the back. friends who'd stop poking holes in the reasons when you say no, yet again, to meeting someone new in this state: when bricks are laid and piled high up in uniformed rows surrounding, it warrants avoiding all forms of showing and receiving love after the years spent shaping the architecture of your defences.

then there's geto. with his charm and wit and the way he pries the person from underneath facades and fabricated masks. your fragile, rocking foundations built on sand he topples down with a mere smile, hardened fortitudes he crushes to dust, weaving within hairline cracks and exploring the caverns of your heart like no one has before. all without much effort, or rather, he doesn't need to exert himself when you fall so willingly.

"why don't we do something else tonight, dinner and a movie?" he questions when you call again. right after work when the stress is at an all-time high and he's...well, you don't know what he does, but he makes himself available for you. he'll admit it's made him feel special being the only person let in, when everyone else has to scavenge for scraps, he's a privileged selected one. seen the glimpses of the warmth you possess when laid bare and sated.

such a skill he has to wring out the truth. still, you go on with the "i like being alone," answer. a mantra, a repetitive hymn to soothe the sting and sharp clawing against the chest til it no longer feels so. numb and sore aches it leaves behind. 'you'll regret it when you realize i'm too much for you,' stays clogged in your throat. he'd only admonish you for such thoughts. 'that's not true' he'd say, but you know better than to believe that.

"i get it," geto replies, feigning casualness when he's not a stranger to isolation and avoidant habits. sometimes he wished he wasn't exposed to a mirror of his own makeup. a paragon of performative indifference and detachment. "i'll leave when you want me to," he reassures you, but was that a wavering you hear in his voice? you don't dare assume because he makes things easy. not the kind to complicate, nor commit. say the word and he'd give you all the solitude you need. dodging the serious questions and serious labels. friend, boyfriend, guy-im-sleeping-with. he doesn't care for them because you don't.

maybe he's just referring to the task at hand, used to forgoing aftercare and post-orgasm cuddles for a late-night drive home. excluding that one time you allowed him a night on your couch. he won't stay if your hand comes up to his sweaty chest, pushing him away before he's had the chance to pull out and slide the worn condom off. it keeps him at a distance and he takes it as a sign that this is as far as intimacy goes—no kissing on the lips, no secrets and sweet nothings, your moans don't escape and neither do his plethora of dirty speeches, stifled and gritting in a tight-lipped prison—there is no room for it at all.

the last thing you need is to dispose whatever is left of an already flimsy resolve. becoming vulnerable and exposed to his rejection or the knee-jerk reaction when he touches you—when the strap of your dress falls at an angle, he instinctively chases after the smooth slope of shoulder with his lips, pressing soft kisses there and everywhere else simmering with anxiety, humming pleased and contented to taste the nerves slipping away, sinking his teeth in and feeling the flesh give to his possession—a longing that courses through and wrenches around your heart tight. you're so selfish to follow after his hands, to feel them feel you. they should be upon another but he grabs and gropes greedily like he can't wait any longer.

"or you could let me stay," he offers.

"the couch makes your back hurt," you reply.

"your bed is big enough for two," he counterclaims. doing what he does best. it's not the first time he's tried to hint at more, waiting for the opportune moment when you're putty in his hands, relenting to him.

"we can't," you gasp when he slips two fingers past your dripping folds. the smirk he wears hidden in the crook of your neck. "why–" you claw at his forearm tucked between your thighs, clenching around his limb for leverage while he makes you squirm and jolt with every nudge against your gspot. "–why me?" why an unpleasant, unfriendly, unwanted woman like you, haven't you suffered enough? why does he choose to torment you with his favour while seeking for yours. you remind yourself there's no place, no space for him here. you like the way things are no matter how painfully lonely it gets, you like the cool touch of your sheets and the emptiness your fingers trail over in the mornings. it's what you know, what you settled for. since when do two people meet and see each other for themselves, choosing to stay for long after the thinly veiled ugliness is stripped away. how do you tell him you're starting to grow accustomed. almost adoring. you've flown too close to the sun before, how do you deal with the fallout when you're inevitably lurched into the suffocating and slow descent towards earth?

in the last few seconds cresting upon your climax, suguru feels it building around the edges of your jittering limbs. head lolling back as you choke, fighting back your moans. your hips thrust in time, chasing after his fingers. he settles them as deep as he can, pumping fast and pressing down against your clit til it hurts, til the hard pressure causes your juices to drip down his fingers, squelching and making a mess.

fuck it, he knows it's the only time you'll have him this close so his arms brace you, supported by his strong chest, crushed by his biceps, suguru coaxes you, "i don't care how far you push me, or how much you pretend, i want you and i know you want me too—"

you shake your head, resisting, stop it, stop uncovering me. he talks of your lust as if some incontrovertible proof, you won't give in. with indefatigable, unwavering effort you set the record straight. "i don't like you like that," lying right as you're about to explode from pleasure, not the kind that feels like a firework, shooting silent and bursting forth, but you seize every muscle in his hold. choking on your breaths and feeling it tighten and coil in your stomach, in your toes, compact and revving, it releases like an engine. rolling and roiling so unyieldingly it makes your ears ring, suffocating you til your vision goes black, and a scream forces it way past your lips.

neither high-pitched nor guttural, it reverberates so soothingly, "im sorry!" you cry. for being this way, for using and tossing him aside, for wanting more. you sob with your head thrown back while suguru hums right against your ear. sounding pleased and pleasured with your admission.

slowing his fingers in time with your panting breaths, he questions "do you really think i wouldn't like you?" it's not the right time to do this but he can hardly bear it, he longs for truth, "do you not believe me?"

looking upon his face through half-lidded eyes, you see that interrogative spark in his expression, his arms never letting go. a tense anticipation takes shape. the air is thick with the scent of damp skin and something else—his shampoo, his cologne, you chase after it for more, pressed into his chest, it only takes one whiff to get a fill, the same way you cling to the corners of pillowcases and duvet covers for that little bit.

what has changed? he makes you act a fool, forlorn and fumbling around in the most fatuous ways. i want you he said so clearly. and it warms your being like never before. there is an urge to make excuses, accuse him for being in lust, he only said it in the heat of the moment, ensnared by a need for possession.

but there is no point in looking back.

"i believe you," you say, noses bumping and slotting close when your lips betray your better judgement, or rather, your unfavourable one. "i'll try." is the best you can offer.

[neiptune]

i'm gonna kiss you like the sun cw: 3k wc, female reader, suggestive if you squint, barely proofread, this is sooo self indulgent and warm and fluffy and i just love him to the moon and back like trigger warning he's perfect

Brazil really is everything Shoyo said it would be.

He wasn’t sure about bringing you to Rio at first, insisted that São Paulo alone would’ve been more comfortable, but you really wanted to explore the city that welcomed him for two whole years so long ago. You’re so glad he decided to accomodate the request: witnessing the stars in his eyes as you wandered around the city, feeling the emotion laced into his tone as he described special spots and introduced you to old friends in confident portuguese, getting to observe how perfectly tangerine curls caught the soft light of sunsets on flawless beaches… made it all worth it.

São Paulo was nice too: ever the cosmopolitan metropolis, it reminded you of Tokyo albeit in a completely original way. Shoyo was given a nice, comfortable apartiment in Chácara Flora but you spent little to no time in there, too busy exploring Ibirapuera park, different museums, climbing all the way up the Farol Santander building and enjoying oh so much good food. However, as much as you loved the city and its locals, Rio is different.

The sky is so big it hurts to look at, an impossible shade of blue makes one feel as if each morning nature paints it the most marvelous nuance just to make sure you’d spend a little extra time with your head tilted back. Colorful streets are filled with music at all times, bubbly enough to persuade complete strangers to attempt a few improvised steps on the way home or right outside a bar, on nights when the mere fact of being alive makes the world feel just a tad bit more magical. Your taste buds have been blessed with the most delicious servings of feijoada, churrasco, coxinha and pão de queijo, one of Hinata’s personal favorites.

The amount of love Shoyo has for Rio makes more sense now that you get to experience his deep connection with the city firsthand. No wonder he calls it his second home: the first real gift he bought for himself was a luxurious penthouse in Ipanema, complete with terrace, a gorgeous view on the beach and a private pool. He never misses the chance to fly his family or friends for a vacation, certainly happy to have a well-situated life in both São Paulo and Tokyo but equally joyous at the prospect of making additional special memories in the city that is still so dear to him.

It’s the first time you accepted to visit, always more inclined to simply wait for him to return to either Tokyo or the Miyagi prefecture. Flying is not exactly your favorite activity and 20+ hours of planes have always been a pretty convincing deterrent. Turns out, missing your boyfriend too much is an equally strong incentive.

And so you’re here, on one of the most beautiful beaches on the other side of the world, sitting on a  comfortable towel and still a bit jet lagged as you excitedly recount the latest gossip about one of your colleagues, secretly planning to propose to her girlfriend soon. Except it feels like you’re the only one hearing the story.

“Shoyo”, you pout, “are you listening?”.

“No”, he says right away, blunt in his honesty as always, gaze fixed on something distant above your shoulder, brows furrowed in worry “sorry, I’ll be right back” and just like that, he gets up from the towel you’re sharing to walk off toward a destination you can only pinpoint when you turn your head around.

There’s a beach volleyball court, because of course there is, and a group of boys seems to be having a good time playing. For some reason the teams are not balanced, it’s two against three, but they’re all laughing and having fun. All except one, a kid sitting on the sand not too far away from those you can only guess are his friends, scowl deep and brows furrowed. While the others look like teenagers, he seems way younger with those lanky arms and thin legs. From the way he’s begrudgingly observing the game, it wouldn’t be unfair to assume that he wasn’t allowed to play.

Shoyo approaches him with the wave of a hand and a friendly inflection in his portuguese. It doesn’t take long for the kid to replace a deeply wary expression with a more relaxed one. He nods at some point and your boyfriend sits next to him on the sand, at reasonable distance to make sure the kid is comfortable being so close to a stranger, baseball cap pushed further down as he observes the game. Your best guess is that he asked the boy if it was okay for him to watch the match with him, probably introduced himself simply as someone who’s passionate about the sport.

You observe as Shoyo’s lips move but his eyes stay focused on the court, comments and possibly suggestions mumbled to himself, a few claps and cheers for good measure. It’s the boy that wants to talk to him now, he’s probably asking a few questions and Hinata can finally accomplish what was probably his mission all along. They chat for a bit, then the kid shrugs and angrily shakes his head, utters something under his breath and you can see the disapproval in the downwards curve of your boyfriend’s mouth. He’s up again after a while, as he walks off the boy yells something you don’t understand after him. When Hinata is back shortly after, there’s a ball in his hands and a wide grin on his face.

It takes some convincing and putting a good amount of distance between them and the group, but eventually Shoyo is able to convince him to play. When the kid gets up from the sand, you can’t help but smile: he’s not nearly as tall as his friends.

It starts with some easy setting drills, then forearm bumps. You’re lying on your tummy now, book in hand but still a few glances curiously directed to where they’re enjoying themselves. You can hear Shoyo’s laugh and see his companion’s now relaxed features, smile beaming as he digs to try and catch your boyfriend’s spikes. He most certainly willingly misses a few of the boy’s ones, dramatically throws himself on the powdery sand now sticking to their chests and backs. Yet, they’re having a good time. While probably risking a sunstroke but still, they’re enjoying themselves.

And so you relax, focus on your designated beach read, content to finally have some time to digest a few additional pages. The main character decides to spend the summer on a remote island in the middle of the pacific ocean, meets a group of friends and begins a dreamy intimate friendship with one attractive, local surf instructor.

You’re devouring the chapter following their one night stand when the shadow of someone crouching down in front of your towel makes your gaze flicker up.

“Hey beautiful”, Shoyo grins, all flushed cheeks and glistening shoulders, “wanna go for a swim with me?”.

He doesn’t apologize for having left so abruptly and, as you push back some of the hair sticking to his forehead, it’s a relief to find yourself not as bruised as you'd feel at the beginning of your relationship. Shoyo has taught you that not every gesture or word carries actual malice: he has his own way of looking at the world and will leave in the middle of a conversation if he witnesses a kid being unfairly tossed aside. It’s what makes him, him. And you love him so much.

“That was very kind of you”, he downplays your compliment instantly, with a shake of the head. Shoyo doesn’t always apologize but he never fails to explain.

“It was nothing, we just played a little. Then one of his friends recognized me and asked for an autograph, so I think Marcelo finally felt more confident. He’s really talented, you know? I told him about all the people who never wanted to play with me either and that he should never allow anyone to tell him that he’s not good enough to do what he loves”, he smiles and then softly grasps the hand still gently running through his locks to press it to his lips.

“Should’ve told him about the little giant”, you grin.

“I did! But he didn’t seem too interested in gringos, was wary of me too when I approached him”.

“Well, I’m pretty sure this particular gringo has made his day”.

Shoyo’s chuckle is soft and you press a kiss to the portion of his knee that is not covered in sand before closing your book with a loud thud and shoving it back into your bag.

“Was I gone for long? Did you get bored?”, he offers a hand to help you stand up and you bask in the comfort of his sincere worry. He may get distracted easily but you’re never not among his priorities.

“Didn’t get bored. Did miss you”.

“Oh no”, a mischievous glint flashes in his eyes, “whatever we should do about that”.

A yelp is heard when he pulls you into him and picks you up in one fluid motion, laugh like a melody when you grumble some nonsense about how sweaty he is and the amount of sand that is now sticking to your body as well.

“See? Now we both need a good rinse” Shoyo kisses your pout away and smiles against the comforting curve of your lips when he feels your legs wrap around his waist.

“Can’t stand you” the good natured affront only makes him chuckle harder as he carries you toward the shore, precious cargo clinging onto him like a koala bear.

“Ah, you were standing for me alright this morning against the wall”.

You furrow your brows as you meet his playful gaze. “I think you’re spending too much time with the wrong Miya twin”.

Tongue in cheek, Shoyo shrugs nonchalantly and tightens his arms around you when you shudder as the water hugs his waist and your ankles. He doesn’t let go and is glad you don’t seem inclined to pull away either, satisfied with being held as you gently wash the sand from his chest and shoulders once your boyfriend settles where the atlantic is deeper but still shallow enough for him to stand.

Shoyo never thought he could’ve loved Rio more than he already does but having you there is an entirely new kind of magic he didn’t believe he’d ever experience. If he didn’t think he’d scare you off and if the rational part of his brain didn’t acknowledge that it would be horribly unfair, it wouldn’t take but a second to ask you to move there with him. For him.

His life is perfect but never complete so long you’re not there to share it. For a fleeting moment his stomach squeezes when the feeble vision of a white dress flashes before his eyes.

“I love you”, he utters softly, “I love that you’re here”. So much.

He thinks of the sunflowers sitting all pretty in a vase right below his kitchen window, an apartment instantly made all the more special. He receives flowers from fans and his family but you’re the only person who regularly gets them for him. Not because it’s his birthday, not to celebrate or as consolation. The first time you went out for dinner he had some red roses and you showed up with an identical bouquet. Then grinned: I just thought you’d like them. He did.

Shoyo knows you like the back of his hand, so there’s no chance he’d miss the slight hesitation in your smile as you murmur that you love him back.

“Something wrong?”,  he searches your features for any hint of discomfort. You huff, offer some sarcasm to cover up your worries.

“Sometimes I’m not entirely sure it’s good to have such a perceptive boyfriend”.

Alarm bells ring into his head, albeit the sound is distant. If something serious was on your mind, surely you would’ve told him.

“Wanna talk about it?” he doesn’t necessarily want to make this about himself but also desperately wants to ask if it’s him who did something to upset you.

“It’s stupid”.

“It’s never stupid if it troubles you”.

It takes a deep breath and the gentle roll of the waves to gather the right words, one of his hands calmingly rubbing soft circles on your back.

“I just… sometimes I guess I find it hard to believe that you miss me”.

Shoyo’s face falls, hand halts its movements.

“What?”.

“This is entirely on me!”, you hope the quick clarification is enough to alleviate the torment written all over his features, “it’s not something I’m blaming you for! You don’t do anything wrong, ever”.

It doesn’t work. The shock melts into genuine heartache.

“Why would you think that?”, his voice comes out thin and low, a broken whisper. Fuck.

“Because I go through illogical moments and feelings. It’s not you who makes me feel like that, it’s just my brain”.

“Where does your brain get that assumption from?”.

You sigh, loosen the hold around his neck. It’s really hard to put your insecurities into words, especially to the one person who never gave you a single reason to doubt about his affection. It makes you feel like an asshole.

Even during such a disheartening moment, Shoyo thinks of you first. He has no trouble sustaining your weight and keeping you pressed against him with one arm alone, as his other hand gently cups your face to tilt it upwards.

“It’s because I’m happy here”. Not a question. He really does know you better than anyone else.

“You are. And I love that you are. I’m just being a jerk”.

Truth is, you miss him so much it feels unbearable at times. You’d go through such horrible days, hours long crying sessions, only to then open up your instagram and find posts and stories of him laughing, smiling, always having the time of his life. You’d never want him to feel miserable, he deserves everything he has and more. But you’d lie if you said it didn’t occasionally sting. You’d lie if you said you never felt like he didn’t need you after all.

Shoyo hums as he resumes his soft rubbing, thumb gently skimming over the skin under your eye.

“I am happy. I love living in this country and the people in it. I love my job. I’m lucky, my life is perfect”.

“I know. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”, his thumb is now pressing onto your lips as a tiny smile stretches his.

“And yet. It’s only complete if you’re with me. Did your brain know that?” he tilts his head to the side “I always miss you. When I’m playing, when I’m not playing, if I’m out with the team, while having breakfast, as I go to sleep. If you’re not where I am, I miss you. I’m happy but I’m not whole. Tell that to your brain for me, yeah?”.

He chuckles when you just look at him, stunned.

“I’m sorry”, you whisper once more.

“Ah, man!”, Shoyo’s laugh is jovial, “I wish I could buy this beach. I wish it was just ours, no people around. Then I could show you just how much I missed you”.

“Shoyo!”, you click your tongue in disapproval.

His gaze softens, genuine affection oozing from a stare so sincere it makes your heart flutter. “I’d buy you this beach if I could. All the beaches. Hell, the entire country. You know that, right? There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’d buy you the planet, the entire world, then break the news to everyone else. Too bad, guys, you have to leave! It’s ours now”.

“You’re so silly”, despite the smile, there’s a tiny quiver to your voice and you hope to fuck you don’t burst out crying in the middle of the atlantic ocean just because your boyfriend is in love with you. He means it, you know he does. If someone told him there was a way to buy the planet for you, he’d actually do it. Hinata says what’s on his mind at all times, never been one to lie or exaggerate: he’s just like that, hand-on-heart honest.

“Yeah. And I love you. Please don’t forget that or I’m gonna have to purchase the earth”, his grin is infectious and you can’t help but mirror it as you run a hand through his hair, dampening the shorter bangs into a darker burnt sienna.

“Don’t need it. I have you, you’re already my world”, the second the words fall from your lips you gag so loudly a few tourists turn to look, Shoyo’s mirthful laughter filling your ears and heart. “God, I was never this corny. Look what you turned me into, I think I’m gonna be sick”, your grimace is adorable to him and, judging by the pinkish hue emerging on tanned skin and among freckles, he’s not exactly opposed to sappiness.

“I think you should kiss me”, Shoyo mumbles, but it’s a formality really, because his hand leaves your face cold as he pulls you into a breathless kiss by the back of your head. It’s not entirely appropriate to kiss like that with people around but he chases you whenever you try to pull back, determination burning fiercely as he keeps you pressed against his body.

It feels more than perfect. It feels whole. It feels like everything he’ll ever need.

[imperial-daffodil]

Below is me rambling about the Emperor because I love him. And I have gotten a bit carried away x)

_ __ _ __ _ __ _ __ _

The Emperor is a Victim as much as Shadowheart or Astarion. He has been stolen from his old life forced to embrace a new way of being and even more violently so that he had to shed his old self - is whole body.

And yet. After years of absolute complete entrhallment once he broke free from it for a moment - he learnt to accept to love himself.

To love himself in spite of having been turned forcefully - another face - another species - another shape. He learnt to carry the WEIGHT of his traumatic experiences and grow stronger out of it.

He learnt to love himself and that despite the excruiatingly achingly painful adversity he faced - the worst kind that one can face: his one true companion, the love of his life, his Guardian, Ansur, not only forcing upon him the idea that he needed to 'be cured' but then, wanting him to die because he could not go back to how he had been before the trauma.

The Emperor is a victim.

The Emperor is a survivor.

And he is the strongest of the whole game.

Because he survived his trauma alone. He had no one to turn to for so long. His self love, his unbreakable will to survive and be FREE to LIVE as HE IS, he had to build it up all alone.

In a world in which anyone who would see him truly, would kill him on sight.

He had to hide it, who he was, who he IS, who he has learnt to love BEING.

Despite all the pain he has endured, the pain that was forcefully inflicted on him.

Despite the hatred he faced, the hatred from the sole person he believed and genuinely thoughts and felt he could put his trust in.

The Emperor is a victim, and a survivor, who had to learn to make the weight of his traumas his own. Own his past, his pain.

Own what was inflicted to him, forced on him, until he loved himself again.

Wishing for nothing more than to live, for who he is. Fully. his past, and present all part of that beautiful whole that is him.

The Emperor is not a clumsy kid waiting to be taken by the hand and told what to do by Tav.

The Emperor is a man who has seen hell, been to hell, been inflicted hell, and is back and still loving who he's become.

And he deserves nothing more than to live freely as himself, and to have a true companion, an equal, who will accept him WHOLE. past, present, future, name, species, and shape.

Mind, body, heart, and soul.

It must be so hard to grasp those nuances for some. To understand that one loves themselves as their are, embracing the trauma that shaped them, made them stronger, more beautiful, more whole.

To understand, and accept that one's darkest hours, and part of them, but it never, ever make them lesser. On the contrary.

And to accept, that some, would not exchange a grain of sand of their life story. because that is what defines who they truly are in the present.

To have such a strong sense of identity and having learnt to love oneself despite having always faced only pain and hatred and yearning.

To be a person who won't be told what to do and who to be - because trust me, when you've seen hell, been there, and lived it, you know, exactly, what is best for you, and who you truly are.

And there is beauty in blooming anew after everything has crumbled - down to yourself - born anew, like a phoenix too magnificent to even be looked at without teasing the fires of jealousy, misunderstanding and hatred of those who cannot even fathom the beauty of it all.

_ __ _ __ _ __ _

[plantsjustwannahavefun]

I keep seeing so many people here getting angry that this season is "vilifying Ed", and it's depressingly fascinating to see how others can watch the same show and somehow see something completely different. Is it simply the lack of media literacy? Is it the inability to appreciate and enjoy complex, nuanced, morally grey characters without willfully blocking out anything even slightly unpalatable about them to the point where the character they think they love isn't really that character anymore?

Because, uh... Season 1 already "vilified" Ed plenty. Except "vilify" is the wrong word, of course. It wasn't in any way malicious or mean-spirited, quite the contrary, it was often played as comedic (until the end of episode 10 when it was anything but) - Ed was always meant to be a sympathetic character, he's a protagonist after all, and the show's portrayal of him is very compassionate. It merely refused to sugarcoat or shy away from his darker side. He's literally history's most famous pirate, you don't become one by being nice and treating everyone gently. He ambushed and strangled his own father to death when he was like 9 years old (100% deserved and justifiable ofc, but it still bears saying it out loud like this just to comprehend how unhinged this actually was). He loves torturing and maiming people for fun, and sometimes even animals (that scene with forcing a turtle to fight a crab). He didn't give a fuck about his crew members dying to satisfy his whim to meet Stede. He entirely failed in his role as a captain in ep 4. He effectively played a double agent with Izzy and Stede for a while before changing his mind. He attempted to murder Lucius. And while you could try to argue his punishment of Izzy was at least to some degree deserved, not only cutting Izzy's toe off but forcing him to eat went beyond punishment, it was sadistic torture.

So, yeah, please just read all that and take it in. And then remember once again that Ed is also a traumatised, lonely, depressed, sensitive, creative, curious, deeply passionate person yearning for true love and for something different in life... just like Stede. He loves music and can play the piano. He wrote a very vulnerable song and sand his heart out. He likes his tea with seven sugars. He enjoys fashion and dressing up. He has such a limitless sense of wonder for the world. He went on a trek with Stede just to make him happy, even though he hated nature and was in a shit mood that day. He wants to host a talent show. He wants to become free. He's clever and funny and fascinating. I love Ed.

Yes, it's possible to reconcile those two sides of him and accept both sides as the "real" Ed. You have to reconcile the two sides if you want to enjoy him as a character, because if you don't, you're going to either detest him to the core (which would make enjoying the show practically impossible since he's sort of a main character...), or you'll only be able to enjoy a diminished, crippled, cardboard cutout version of his character, which would be such a pity and a massive disservice to the creators of this show who worked hard to create interesting, multidimensional characters.

Not to mention you'd be missing one of the core messages of the show - the idea that people still deserve love and can be loved even if they're imperfect, or not necessarily good people. Because love is a human condition. It's not a sole dominion of "good" people. "Bad" people can fall in love too - even if, just like them, that love isn't exactly "nice" or "pure", and neither are the relationships that stem from it. They can be messy and exasperating. But "bad" people can also grow and change because of it. That's what OFMD is ultimately about - growth and change, learning to accept yourself but also become better. That can't happen if the character is already 100% perfect the way they are.Ed is far from that. So is Izzy. They can both become better, and they both still deserve compassion and understanding, because that's the environment people need to become better.

So, if you're mad that at the start of S2 the crew are sympathetic to Izzy's suffering and want to help him instead of kicking him when he's down, and what Ed did to him is being acknowledged as cruel and wrong... congratulations, you have completely missed what OFMD is all about.

[freesia-writes]

Ch 23: First Date, Take Two

~ Master List ~ Previous Chapter ~ WC: 2.7k

Metallica - Fade to black lyrics (youtube.com)

.

“Heyyyy, there he is!” Luciana’s bright voice carried across the breeze, and she bounded to meet Hunter as he approached, trudging through the sand beside the crashing waves. She greeted him with an enthusiastic hug before bringing him back to her group of friends, sprawled across the beach on a litany of thick blankets and towels with snacks and drinks scattered atop. It was a decidedly youthful crowd, making Hunter feel immediately out of place. He shifted on his feet, rubbing the back of his neck and gazing from face to face as they were introduced. 

“Okay, so this is Dwigt,” she began, pointing to a moon-faced kid to his left, “That’s Scarn… Pan…” More individuals gave idle waves or nods as Hunter returned them awkwardly. “And over here is Wuphf, and this is Narddog. He’s the one who made me so scrappy,” she giggled, swatting the arm of a bulky Twi’lek sitting near where she stood. “This is Hunter, y’all. He’s gonna hang with us sometimes. Don’t be weird.” 

“Yes mom,” the one identified as Scarn teased, and Luciana moved to kick some sand at him. 

“Don’t mind them,” she grinned, turning back to Hunter, who remained standing beside her above the group. “Want to walk a bit?” 

A quick, sharp pang dug into his side before he forced it away from consciousness. “Walk sounds good,” he said, falling into step as they headed toward the cliffs.

“You alright?” Luciana asked, and he noticed that for once she wasn’t touching him immediately. 

“Yeah,” Hunter said, eternally tossed back and forth in his mind like the waves that crashed beside them on the shore. “I just…eh. This feels… I don’t know.”

“It’s alright if you’re not into it,” she said gently, the earnestness in her face matching her tone. “I know we’re different people. I imagine it might be daunting, or feel wrong, or you think you’re crazy,” she laughed. “I won’t be hurt if you need to dip at any point. I’d just love to enjoy the time with you. Whatever that looks like.” 

So simple. So straightforward. Nothing to figure out, no need to labor over discerning every nuance. He took a deep breath, releasing it along with as much of the pent-up stress as he could. 

“Alright,” he said, lifting his eyes to the horizon. They continued their stroll, her beach wrap fluttering in the breeze over the swimsuit it covered. 

“I’m sorry for what happened with Lyra,” she ventured, sincerity in her honeyed voice. “That’s never fun.”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t believe you just never heard from her again. She ditches you on a random planet and leaves her entire life here? Maybe something happened to her…”

“Who knows,” he said, feeling a spiteful snake coiling inside of him that almost hoped something did. 

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, something always felt a little off with her. I thought it was just cause she was kinda new around here – she arrived on the island shortly before I did – but it never quite went away. Anyway, sorry to bring it up. I’ve been wrecked a time or two… and not in the good way,” she winked, laughing at her own joke before shaking her head. “So… moving on… How’s the shop?”

They chatted for a while about their jobs, life on the island, things they’d tried or had yet to explore. The sun had disappeared below the horizon as they began to head back toward the blankets on the beach, which had since been deserted by her friends, leaving only her towel and bag. She shook the sand off the towel, stuffing it into her bag, then pulled on a long, cozy wrap as the breeze grew chillier. 

“Hungry?” she asked, gazing up at Hunter with green eyes that had a softening effect on his harsh exterior. 

“Not really,” he admitted, feeling as though it were the wrong answer somehow. It was a constant back and forth… being lost in conversation that was genuinely enjoyable and then feeling wildly out of sorts and almost as though he were in some kind of strange dream. 

“Alright,” she nodded with simple acceptance, lifting her bag to her shoulder. “I’ve got to work the next few days, but maybe we could meet up on Taungsday? Late dinner?”

“Sounds good.”

She reached out to squeeze his hand, offering an endearing smile before turning to venture up the stairs away from the beach, leaving him to ponder his choices beneath a blanket of twinkling stars. 

* * * 

Hunter washed out the pan, absently swirling the water around it again and again as Omega rattled the drawers behind him, putting away the silverware. They’d finished another cozy dinner in the cabin, Wrecker having gone home early due to a “food coma”, and they were quietly cleaning up side by side. 

“So this next internship is on Plata?” he asked, regarding her over his shoulder.

“Yup,” she nodded. “I’m kind of excited, to be honest. Not for the reason you think,” she added, swatting him with a dish towel as she could almost see his thoughts about the notorious party-loving island. “It’s just a good group of people going, and it’ll be a nice break from the drama.”

“Drama, eh?” 

“Yeah, everyone’s all up in arms over who likes who, and the whole thing has turned into taking sides over something that’s stupid in the first place.”

“Sounds like the war,” Hunter replied dryly. Omega exhaled, looking at him with a mixture of sympathy and humor. 

“You seem different these days,” she remarked. “I mean, I know it’s been a lot, but… the bartender?”

“Something to say about it?” he invited, rubbing a plate with the soapy sponge. 

“Not really. If you’re happy, I’m happy. Is she nice? Like, for real?”

“From what I can tell. She’s pretty straightforward. Says what she thinks. Keeps it simple. It’s not really anything, just… having fun.” He cringed at the last words as though they pained him to say, prompting Omega to giggle.

“Maker forbid,” she jabbed with a knowing grin. 

“I know, I know.” Everyone and their general had been giving him a hard time for beating himself up so much over all that had happened. Tech’s observation at the last family dinner had been particularly piercing, as he wondered aloud if Hunter were releasing all of the frustration, powerlessness, and regret of his entire life into this particular situation. There had been an uncomfortable silence after that, until Wrecker moved the conversation along by antagonizing Crosshair and everyone returned to eating. 

“I get it, though,” Omega continued, pausing her movement to look at him softly. “And if you want my two cents… maybe the universe is offering you a chance to feel more human than you ever have before.”

“I keep hearing about how all these experiences are so ‘human’, and I think I’d prefer to be a clanker if this is what it’s like.”

Omega remained silent, a small smile on her face as she patted his arm. They finished up their cleaning and turned to head to bed, pausing in the hallway to bid one another goodnight. It was only then that she spoke up again. 

“Hunter, what do you want?” she asked quietly, looking into his conflicted face. He sighed, eyes roving the floor as his hand slowly rubbed the back of his neck.

“I don’t know.”

“Well maybe all this stuff is happening to help you figure it out.”

He watched her disappear into her room and remained there for a few minutes before turning toward his own.

* * * 

“Hi handsome!” Luciana exclaimed, inviting him in with a flourish. She was in a black lacy bra and underwear, with a floor-length satin robe hanging loosely over it all. Hunter kept his eyes fixed very firmly on her face. “Lookin good, by the way,” she noted, checking out his outfit, which was composed of plain khaki pants and a white shirt. “I’m almost ready; make yourself at home for a few?”

He stepped into her apartment, taking it all in. The place was relatively dark, lit by string lights and small lamps with red or purple bulbs. There was artwork splashed across virtually every wall, except the far one which was made of plain brick, and the framed images ranged from eclectic portraits of animals to somewhat sensual abstract art. Plants sprouted and hung from every nook and cranny, and a few candles flickered as they filled the room with a soft, spicy scent. Scratching the back of one hand with the other, Hunter ventured from corner to corner, idly inspecting all that there was to see.

“Answer with your first thought!” she called from her bedroom. “Green or red?” 

“Green,” he said after a pause where his mind ran through the colors and all that they were connected with, naturally overthinking the question in just a few seconds.

“You got it!”

She appeared a few minutes later in a pastel green dress, dainty and feminine, the top of which was held up by a single string that looped around her neck alongside the thin gold necklaces and earrings she’d added. A pair of strappy heels wove their way up her ankles, tied in the back, and her curly red hair had been pulled back loosely at the nape of her neck. His mouth felt a little dry as he noticed her lips, distinctly plump and soft with the light shine from the lipstick she’d chosen. 

“Whaddya think?” she asked coquettishly, brushing the front of her dress and doing a little spin for him. 

“I… uh… It’s nice,” he fumbled, genuinely clueless of how to respond. “Aren’t you gonna be cold?”

“Oh my gosh,” she laughed, taking a few steps forward to playfully smack him on the chest. “You’re ridiculous.” She turned to a closet near the front door, pulling out a beige, knee-length coat. “Just for you, babe,” she smiled, shuffling into it and extending a hand to invite him to follow. 

“So, Luciana,” he began, interrupted by her grabbing his hand and pulling him a step closer. 

“Luci,” she said firmly, giving him a mockingly stern expression. “And what? Would you rather stay in?” She arched a shapely eyebrow, eyes sparkling with both mirth and insinuation. 

“No,” he said with an exhale, a small smile of his own finally appearing. “I’m starving.”

“Alright. Then I hope you’re ready for the best pasta of your life!”

.

.

They wove their way through the streets of Xylo for only a few minutes, as Luci’s apartment was near the Town Square where most of the restaurants were. As they rounded a corner, their destination came into view. Tables and chairs spilled out onto the cobblestoned sidewalk in front of a well-lit building with thick vines filling the trellis above the entrance. It seemed quite busy, despite it being a slightly late hour for dinner, but the host smiled broadly when he saw Luci approach.

“Miss Salentino! Welcome, welcome. Always a pleasure. Right this way,” he fawned, grabbing a couple of menus and leading them through the bustling restaurant floor. Hunter didn’t miss the eyes that flitted up and down her long legs as she gracefully followed the host out to a back patio, which was much quieter due to only a few tables being scattered across it. Their menus were placed on the farthest table, tucked into a corner with a small view of the city below, with buildings all around. 

“Your server will be along shortly,” the host said with a bow, giving her one last warm grin before disappearing, and before Hunter could even open his menu, another man was at her elbow, carefully placing two sparkling glasses on the table and settling a bottle of champagne in a metal tube to keep it cold. 

“Hello beautiful,” he said, then turned to give Hunter a quick scan from head to toe, offering a polite smile as he did. “And welcome, sir. Have you dined with us before?”

“No,” Hunter said, sitting up a little straighter.

“I brought him here to change his life,” Luci said playfully, pouring the champagne until the glasses were filled to the brims. “And then we might have some food,” she laughed. 

“Naturally,” the server snickered, shaking his head fondly. Hunter stared between the two of them. “Well, I’ll give you two some time to settle in, and perhaps some small plates before the ‘life-changing’ entrees?” 

“Sounds good! Thank you, love!” Luci chirped, and the menus were whisked away without either of them having the chance to look. 

“Quite friendly,” Hunter muttered, picking up his own champagne glass and giving it a sniff out of habit. 

“The owner is an old friend from my pod-racing crew on Tattooine, and I come so frequently that I’ve gotten to know most of the staff as well,” she explained flippantly, lifting her glass to him in cheers before taking a sip. 

“Pod-racing crew?”

“Mmm,” she said, nodding through one more gulp before setting her glass down and leaning back in her chair. “I’ve dabbled in a thing or two during my lifetime.”

“You were a pod racer?” he repeated, trying to wrap his head around the fact. 

“I started on the crew, then thought I’d try it myself. It didn’t last long,” she giggled. “Got a little boring.”

“Boring?” Hunter said in disbelief, then cringed inwardly at how dumb he sounded, even to himself.

“Well, I mean, it’s risky, but… I don’t know. It was time to move on. But it was fun while it lasted! Met some amazing people and got to learn so much about the different types of speeders and how they work. I wanted to be a full-time mechanic but it’s so dirty and complex… Too much for me!” She smiled and shrugged, gazing out at the view.

The server appeared with three small plates, each displaying a few bites of various appetizers. The quiet hubbub of the others on the patio, combined with the mouthwatering scents of the crispy rolls and fruit kebabs before them, was increasingly putting Hunter at ease, and Luci was radiating contentment. He took a deep breath and felt his shoulders relax away from his ears a bit as he gazed at the soft glow from the small candle on their table.

“So how about you?” she continued, daintily picking at one of the spring rolls. “What’s your story?”

“Heh,” Hunter said, trying to remember what he’d shared with… the other one… to keep it all consistent. “Kinda like yours, I guess, but not as exciting.” He navigated a purposefully vague story about being a butcher like his father before him, being trained in the military of his remote home planet, being sucked into the war a bit, then operating as a mercenary with his brothers before returning to a quiet life. Luci asked a thing or two about details, but he evaded them with what he thought was some pretty good acting, pretending that the memories were too painful or unpleasant to ruin the evening with. 

Entrees came and went, dessert was regretfully refused due to having eaten too much already, and the empty champagne bottle was taken away along with the remaining dishes. Luci sat back in her seat, patting her stomach. 

“Glad I wore a loose dress,” she snickered. “Want to walk this off and call it a night?”

As they began a slow stroll through the winding streets, Hunter was struck by just how normal it all felt. Conversation continued, everything from favorite things to flirty banter, and he offered her an arm as they made their way up some cobblestone stairs. When they finally arrived at her apartment, she stopped and turned toward him, wrapping her arms around herself and heaving a big, contented sigh.

“This was really nice, Hunter,” she said earnestly, reaching up to free her hair from its ponytail. “Thank you so much.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “I… agree.”

“I think I’m feeling a little more adventurous for the next date,” she continued, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “If there is a next one…” she drifted off, lifting her eyebrows slightly in inquisitive coyness. 

“Depends on what you have in mind,” he returned, feeling simultaneously proud and weird about his own playfulness. 

“I’ll surprise you,” Luci said with a nod, reaching out to touch the outside of his arm as she gazed into his face. “We’ll see if you can keep up.”

.

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[idleorbitals]

sandray making out in ray's car. we knew this scene was coming on multiple levels but still. ouch on multiple levels

says the man that is about to give the puppy dog eyes of all time. of All Time

sandray are so tough to watch right now because the reason they're wholesome is that they're properly guarded against each other. ray, though he's clearly catching feelings for sand, is in love with someone else, which is very fortifying. sand is testing his own boundaries and being honest with himself about what's working and what isn't. he pulls physically away from ray multiple times here. this scene also has him admitting that he's never had sex more than once with someone he wasn't seeing seriously. when ray asks "so do I have to be your boyfriend to get more?" and sand says "i'll never take someone like you as my boyfriend" and then ray says "can't you just make an exception for me?" neither of them are saying what their words are (of trailer playing us again!!)

ray is not really offering, not in any meaningful way; sand is not declining as much as he is protecting himself. multiple times in this episode sand has indicated that he might be open to something serious with ray and ray has playfully offered something serious in a meaningfully disingenuous way, specifically to ward off the real conversation, and sand has performed brushing him off, to make it clear that he understands what's actually being offered and not offered. it's so twisted because all their surprisingly healthy communication is happening at a level where their words mean almost perfectly the opposite of what their words Actually Mean. it's only healthy because they both understand the nuance here. dangerous fuckin game boys

then mew calls. I've already seen some discourse about this so here comes my addition: yeah it's a good move to prioritize getting your drunk friend to a safe place. ray is doing a good thing here and he's also doing nothing wrong, even if he weren't. as aforementioned in the healthy communication bit; as sand will say shortly; he's made no promises and is well within his rights to do what he pleases, whether or not that comes at the expense of sand's feelings.

yes, and: I think this shot summarizes really well the emotional heart of this. sand is not offended by ray picking up the call. he's feeling some physical feelings, obviously, about the interruption. but it's only when ray physically shrugs off his arm that he does the kicked puppy face. we see it again when he sighs and swallows his feelings until he hears ray say "sure, where are you? i'm coming" without any acknowledgement, implicit or otherwise, of what ray will be leaving to do so.

there's a perfectly valid scenario here where ray is interrupted in the middle of fun sexy times by the deeper bonds of friendship and goes honorably to attend to those priorities. but that's not what this is, or not the whole of it. he's not just picking mew's safety over sand in this moment; he's actively pushing sand away in favor of attending to mew, before he even knows what the call's about.

sand is duly hurt and we get to hurt along with him, /especially/ because he's going to take ownership of his own pain in a moment and reiterate his own responsibility. "I don't have the right to be upset with you," he says. and on some level, this is true. but it sure is easy to get why he's hurting

(all ofts watch throughs)

[nekropsii]

is it normal, would you say, to be a fan of a character who is on paper completely reprehensible because you _enjoy them as a character, not as a person?_

rufioh and kankri in particular are two of my favourite dancestors but it feels so wrong to say i'm a 'kankri fan' or a 'rufioh fan' because. that's such a loaded title that almost feels like holding up a neon sign that says 'i'm ignoring the textual misogyny both of these assholes espouse in every other sentence'

it also doesn't help that i am yet to find a single fan work (besides sovstuck, of course) that actually gets them right. any and all depth they have is taken away, rufioh is painted as being in the right and damara as his 'psycho ex', and kankri is just a walking joke with no nuance to his characterisation.

Literally completely normal, and I’ve spoken at length before how I believe the seeming general inability to separate “liking a character as a Character” vs. “liking a character as a Person” is doing some extreme damage and is also a major source of discourse and apologetics within fandoms in general.

From what I’ve observed, people seem to tend to think that when you enjoy a Character, you must also enjoy who they are as a Person, so they start sanding their Character down to make them a more palatable Person. Their actions and words are disregarded, their more unsavory traits are either softened or removed entirely, suddenly they have deep and tragic reasons as to why they viciously abused that person or hold bigoted beliefs so it’s actually okay, guys, so on and so forth.

I talk about Cronus a lot because he’s actually one of my favorite Alpha Trolls. As a character, he provides an excellent source of conflict and symbolism, and he’s an extremely important element in what makes Mituna so interesting and likable. Cronus is a vicious, unrepentant abuser and a total, unapologetic sex pest, he wants Alternian Culling to be legal to Beforus so he can legally kill Mituna for his disability with zero social repercussions, and so much more. He has absolutely zero redeeming qualities, and pretending like he even edges close to one means you’ve completely mischaracterized him and totally missed the point. If your version of Cronus even glances in the general direction of Genuine Redemption, throw it all away, you’ve made an OC and it’s too late for you. He’s a great character, and there’s a reason why I’m the main writer for him for Sovereignstuck.

There’s a reason I’d never call myself a fan, though. Hell, I’ve blocked people for labeling themselves as that before, because frankly… Jesus Christ. I’ve learned to take someone labeling themselves a Cronus Fan as a Red Flag. I’ve been here for 10 years. I know what that shit means 99% of the time, and I’m not going to be very willing to take chances for the 1%.

[helps-the-writing-brain-go]

Greenlit Lightning (Part 2)

《⚡️Billy gets the Omnitrix AU⚡️》

The crackling lightshow and deafening thunder eventually comes to an end. White smoke streams from the epicenter in thick ribbons, revealing little by little the hulking figure knelt on scorched ground where there had once been a boy.

Having been freed from his impromptu pseudo-cocoon of magic, awareness comes to Billy slowly. He feels... good all of a sudden.

The chill in his fingers and toes even in the height of summer has disappeared, as has the sharp pinch in his abdomen from one too few meals that he'd gotten used to entertaining in the background until it just isn't there anymore.

The lack of strength in his entire body that Billy has long learned to work past is instead replaced with a boundless energy, like he could run and climb for days and never have to stop for breath.

Said energy is alive even, which Billy feels like he should be frightened of, but as it flickers in welcomingly at his awareness of it, he can't find it in himself to be so.

The energy writhes and flashes throughout his entire being and oozes from every pore. Freedom and containment alike. Like a koi leaping in an arc of water from a lily pond, like lightning in a bottle all at once.

The feeling in his mouth only enhances the comparison, a strange buzzing in his tongue and teeth that rattles into the rest of his head when he swallows.

Billy feels more than he ever has before.

The mild fuzz around the edges of his eyesight is gone. The ground beneath his hands is rough, gritty with sand and ash crumbling beneath his fingers as he finds purchase on the stone floor and every particle stands out in stark relief to his new vision; Billy's new senses of smell and touch catalouging the new nuances to his surroundings he'd failed to catch before. And his new hearing-

"Rise, Champion."

The aged, powerful voice of the actual real-life Wizard bids him, echoing down the endless caverns despite his mild tone and Billy nearly trips shooting to his feet.

His feet. His feet on the cave floor.

They're a lot further away than Billy remembers.

"Holey-moley." Billy breathes, his much deeper voice only weirding him out further.

His hood falls over his forehead as he peers down, distracting him again as rather than the ratty, faded red he is used to, thick, soft white cloth lined in gold frames his face instead.

Billy raises his arms to stare at his much bigger hands. Disbelief had left the building long ago, and Billy's eyebrows feel like they're permanently hitched to his forehead from how high they are rising.

His threadbare hoodie should stop just shy of his waist and bird-like wrists since he's been meaning to get a new one.

The too thick, too fine fabric of his magic-given cape instead falls to the back of his knees and frames his shoulders, attached to his front by solid gold sigils connected by a thin gold chain.

They are a good match for his equally solid gold bracers clamped around his suddenly incredibly muscled adult arms.

Well, bracer.

His other arm is now home to what looked like a really fancy wristwatch.

Black and grey with no discernable clasp, it's dark grey faceplate ringed in black spins lazily, the hourglass shape in its centre, the lights along the edge and the tubing throughout the device pulsing a soft golden yellow.

Not what Billy would have expected with the rest of his everything he has going on but what does he know.

He just got blasted by a Wizard and is now a freaking magic adult.

"Billy Batson."

The Wizard's voice is less intense now, but somehow Billy feels a little like being caught by his social worker as he rifles through his paperwork looking for the best escape route from his next foster home.

Billy ducks his head, peeking...down at the other man.

"Let me explain."

[oddyseye]

heya! I'm thinking about reading the Odyssey but I'm not sure which translations I should look for. I saw your post about certain translations watering things down. what are some translations that you think do a good job of capturing the grittiness?

I mostly read in Greek or my native language, so I can’t give you a comprehensive list, but I’ll steer you clear of a few pitfalls. Let’s get this out of the way: Emily Wilson. Everyone and their cousin raves about her translation. It’s modern! Accessible! Revolutionary! But honestly? It’s too modern. It sands down the grit, the rawness, the bite that makes Homer Homer. I get wanting to make it approachable, but sometimes it feels like Odysseus is about to whip out a smartphone and order a frappuccino. If you want sanitized Odysseus Lite™, sure, but if you’re looking for the real blood, guts, and glory, this isn’t it.

Now, if you’re after a translation that doesn’t shy away from the messy, larger-than-life tone of the original, check out Richmond Lattimore. His work is serious, faithful, and doesn’t feel the need to “cute” things up. Though his wording can sometimes be a bit rigid, if you catch my drift. And Robert Fagles (oh, bless him) has a sense of rhythm that makes you feel the epic scale of it all. Some people find his phrasing a little dramatic, but isn’t that the point? It’s Homer, not some breezy novella.

E.V. Rieu’s version is more straightforward, but it sacrifices nuance in favor of readability, and Samuel Butler’s translation, while older, is too Victorian in its sensibilities, losing the grit and immediacy of the Greek text.

Ultimately, no translation can perfectly replicate Homer’s Odyssey, but Lattimore and Fagles come closest to honoring its complexity. If you want to understand the Odyssey as Homer’s audience might have, however, there’s no substitute for the Greek itself. But if you ask me, Lattimore stands out because he doesn’t dilute Homer’s voice. His translation respects the complexity, the grit, and the layered meanings that define the Odyssey. If you’re looking for an epic that feels authentic and demands something of its reader, start there. You won’t regret it

[writing-for-life]

Sandman Meta-Analysis

Literary/Conceptual/Psychological

About Black Mirrors (an exploration of the relationship between Dream and The Corinthian, both as a literary concept and in Jungian terms)

The Mother Wound (or what if one of your major arcana was possibly created in the image of the parent who emotionally abandoned you over and over)

“Tales in the Sand” in Context of “The Doll’s House”: About Patriarchy, the Madness of Pure Dream and Nada & Morpheus as mirrors of each other

Where the Blood Fell, Red Flowers Grew”: Red Flowers as a Symbol for the Loss of Innocence & Guilt in Tales in the Sand & Brief Lives

Hob Gadling’s Involvement In The Slave Trade Between The Late 16th And Early 19th Century (This is a new, revised and expanded version of this addendum to someone else’s post)

Perspective Requires Being Anchored in Reality—About Holding the Entire Collective Unconscious and Dream’s Struggle with Connection

The Importance of the Dreamstones—The Ruby as Dream’s Essence (and the consequences of locking it away and then receiving it all back)

He Hears the Sound of Her Wings—When Death Equals Solace

“But He Loved, He Should Have Been Forgiven”—About Free Will, Responsibility and Agency: Lucifer and Dream as Foils

When Destiny is Inescapable or: He Truly Is the Worst Older Brother (Based on a fun ask prompt that turned into a serious meta)

The Portrayal of Womanhood in A Game of You

The Sandman Overture and Exiles: Omnia Mutantur, Nihil Interit—Everything Changes, Nothing Is Truly Lost (Not Even Hope)

The Ultimate Character Tag Library

The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Known (Or: Does Morpheus Really Have Commitment Issues?)

Death’s Wedjat Eye: Deeper Symbolism or Random? (Based on an ask)

The Women of the Sandman: A Collection of Meta-Analyses, Fics and Art

Spun Stories And Hard-Hitting Realities As Bookends To Brief Lives

The Thing About Daniel (is that he is not a palette-swapped Morpheus)

The Sandman Timeline As Published In The Annotated Sandman (timeline with a few meta thoughts)

The Truth Of Mankind Is Also Dream’s (short comics panel/show quote comparison)

The Endless Are Not Their Opposite—They Only Define It

Only Hope (!) Calls You Out Like That (Dream, Desire, Hope And Loneliness),

The Difference Between Daydreams And Desires Or: How Dream And Desire Wouldn’t Have Saved The Universe Without Hope (Based on an ask)

Dream's Relationship To His Emotions & The Differences Between Show!Dream and Comics!Dream (Based on an ask)

About Love As The Catalyst For Change

Morpheus and Calliope: About Inspiration, Personhood and Change (Based on an ask)

What Does Morpheus Like in Women? (Based on an ask)

Dream’s Loss of White Hair as the Loss of Innocence: The Killalla-Situation

Touching Death or: Why Dream is Not Simply Touch-Starved in The Sound of Her Wings (Addendum to someone else’s post)

Keeping Them In Character: Could Morpheus Be Saved? (An exploration of fanfic, but lots of good meta thoughts, so I included it here)

Did Morpheus Want to Die? (Addendum to someone else’s post)

When Desire Stops Being the Villain

When a Story About Stories Can Be Read in More Than One Way, and Why a Story About Change Changes With Us

If It Is Implied Lucien Is Adam, What Does That Make Lucienne?

Sunday Mourning—About Dream Entities and Stars (Why Head-Canons Are Wonderful, But Forcing Them On Creators Isn’t)

Who Is at Fault for Dream’s Death? The Endless as Concepts (Based on an ask—I accidentally deleted the OP 😩, but thankfully, I still had reblogs to link to)

Dream and How He Experiences Love (Or: When the Unreal is at War with the Real, and Finally Understanding Unconditional Love Tightens the Noose Around Your Neck That Has Been There All Along)

Tales In The Sand—Did We Find the Women’s Story? Or: The Rejection Of Dream/Hope As A Concept

How Do You Solve The Orpheus Problem? (an exploration of ideas for fanfics, but too many good meta thoughts not to include it here)

Nuance in (The Sandman) Fandom

To Be Human Means To Die (Even For Morpheus)

Let’s Talk About Thessaly (In The Context of Second and Third Wave Feminism)

The Blood on Morpheus’ Hands (more a processing attempt than a meta)

Why The Order of the Last Three Issues of The Sandman Matters

The Facet is Not The Jewel (old post about the ubiquity of Dreamling)

#sandman meta: Even more metas of all kinds, like those of others I (sometimes quite extensively) participated in.

Sandman Comics Reread & Netflix Sandman Rewatch: All my Sandman Book Club contributions, ordered by issue/episode (we are currently discussing on a weekly schedule, join us!)

Next: Sandman Meta-Analysis Music >

Link to full pinned post