#I have certain sets that I consider to be sort of... not ''filler'' but like... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

harumscarumcos · 27 days ago

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I have a lot of conflicting emotions over the finale for Fifteen and this season overall

***SPOILER TALK AHEAD***

So I feel like there’s a bit of interesting that has been presented in this season. Particularly the continuation for the Pantheon, getting to see Midnight again (and the Entity, who I’m starting to suspect might be a God of Doubt). The BEST episode of the season was “The Story & The Engine”, at least for me, as it hit on something that I found deeply personal and a lot of that came across in the acting by Ncuti and those who were in the barbershop. I even found interest in “Wish World”, simply because of the concept of having a world shaped by someone who has such a limited view and would rather keep certain things, people, concepts out of sight, out of mind, and how a world like that would look, it was for sure interesting.

But there are so many cracks in this season.

For the most part, I think I liked certain connections we got to have with the more central characters within the stories framing for the episodes I would consider filler (“Lux”, “The Well”, “The Interstellar Song Contest”). I already stated it, but I loved “The Story & The Engine”, how it speaks to the experience of black community, to feel so welcome and safe in certain spaces of a world that has treated us so terribly, and want to give a shoutout to Inua Ellams and Makalla McPherson for this episode.

I also want to say I was genuinely surprised we didn’t have to have a full episode of seeing black and brown people mistreated in a Jim Crow-era setting, while still acknowledging that this is still the Jim Crow-era South, but like I get where people find issue that there wasn’t more delving into that when you have a black Doctor and a brown companion. Personally, I wouldn’t have wanted to have to see that and was about to turn the TV off when I saw the lady bring the cop in cause there’s a certain amount of black trauma I just don’t want to have to keep experiencing in the media I consume, especially when it comes at the hands of white writers who would handle it so poorly.

But that brings me to my next point: RTD should never, EVER, have his hands on black and brown people in narrative again. Because it is so odd that this whole season, him running into Belinda who looked just like her descendant Mundy, who has a certain intelligence and agency, who is outspoken and firm, all these things…to then have it all be to lead her down a Babies Ever After route. That she was put in his path ultimately to have a daughter (sort of).

It all brought me back to how terribly handled Martha Jones tenure was handled, the saving grace being her exit being handled a mote better than her time as a companion as a whole. Like at least Martha got to do something I guess in her departure episode? At least the agency of her leaving was put into her hands, ultimately, and even that is still not enough for how dirty she was done in her season.

But Belinda…her being either locked into a persona for most of the two part finale, to her being locked into a room where she was not a part of any of the action, and her entire reality being rewritten in order to settle back into motherhood for a version of a child that never actually existed in this format. It’s…like it’s ODD. And all done for the chance that the doctor could maybe have a child (ends up not being his in this NEW new reality).

It’s also just so odd to have pulled Ruby back in to play a more significant part in these episodes for a total of three episodes, giving her a spotlight that should’ve been Belinda’s. Not to say I don’t like when a companion returns, but this was a bit much regarding Belinda having a little more than half a season, since NuWho is now given only 8 episodes per. And part of her being so narrative focused being to introduce this incel white man who is used in the machinations of the greater scope villain of the season to rewrite reality into a narrow view world, and then to give him a happy life to…fix him I guess?? From ever having been the tool that he was???

Then…there’s the Rani. I fucking loved whatever was going on with the Panjabi!Rani regarding aesthetic, personality, just everything about the way she carried herself was incredible to me…except for her worship of Omega, as it seemed to be. I think I would need to go back and deep dive into Classic Who, but the Rani has never been about having anyone over herself, simply doing sadistic experimentation for the sake of domination, and you do get a glimpse of that here. But it for sure still feels like she was simply working within the goal to bring Omega back to power.

I would tempt reading her motivation as another grand experiment of hers, because I do feel that there are certain cues in the plot that point to that, so I try not to get too hung up on that part. What I am hung up on is Panjabi!Rani being killed while Mrs. Flood!Rani continues to exist when??? It should’ve been the other way around!! IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN THE OTHER WAY AROUND—

As well as the dichotomy between the two (Mrs. Flood, an old white woman, being so cheery and almost “kinder”, in a sense, while Panjabi!Rani is more domineering, cold hearted, spiteful, etc.) being very…yeah, like there’s racist overtones that are there, but I digress.

And then let’s just talk about the regeneration of the Fifteenth Doctor into RTD’s favorite blonde white woman. Trust and believe, I love me some Billie Piper, like her in Kaos as Cassandra was incredible to me, and I do have fondness for Rose Tyler. This is doing too much. It’s…definitely odd to have the Doctor regenerate into a companion they had very clear feelings for, romantic ones, but I’m not as hung up on that as for the fact that Ncuti Gatwa barely got 18 episodes to him—3 of those were Doctor-lite episodes—and that, ultimately, it seemed his stories WERE to absorb much of the backlash for an era of NuWho where, if it failed, it could all be blamed on “woke” and they can just go back to something tried and true that they know will get a certain fanbase back into their viewing populace.

Like there’s so much to unpack about the decisions made and I don’t know if I have the words yet since this is so fresh having come off of this watch through, but I think at the end of it, I do need them to fucking reconsider who they be putting in the seats as the show runners for these things. Genuinely, and I know this is such a far stretch to have been done (not because it’s impossible, but because I don’t see the BBC/Disney letting this have happened), but they should’ve had a black show runner behind his entire run. People will try to say that is unimportant, except it’s not cause just seeing the treatment of story from one episode written & directed by two black creatives showed me what this era could’ve been in the right hands. And I’m mad about it.

I have other thoughts but honestly I’m about to take my ass back to sleep, this pissed me off. Shoutout to Jodie Whittaker btw, cause you definitely deserved better from fans that what you got during your run, too, and I’m glad that your run was acknowledged so no one can deny it as a part of the story. And one for Jo Martin getting hers as the Fugitive Doctor again.

#fifteenth doctor #doctor who #nuwho #doctor who series 15 #ncuti!doctor #belinda chandra #doctor who spoilers

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max1461 · 2 years ago

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Ok I'm rather busy and had planned to write a longer post elaborating on this topic but I can't do it now, I'll probably still write one later but I wanted to make a short post as the topic has become relevant: the thing that you have to know about my writing style is that (speaking particularly about my serious posts here and not my shitposts) it is very literal modulo certain stylistic quirks. I don't really have time to elaborate all of these (ironically this post was written in a rush, and thus might not itself be the best example of my usual style), but one important fact is that when I say "almost", "in generally", "more-or-less", "in some sense" and so on, I really mean these. Like, these aren't filler words, I think a lot of people just gloss over them but tbh I often agonize over where exactly to put these when writing a post. I sometimes leave posts in my drafts for ages just because I haven't decided whether to propose some phrase with "generally" or not. I'm very, like, careful about trying to make it unambiguous that I don't mean whatever I don't mean, right? So these words are not meant to be glossed over; they're written carefully and they're meant to be read carefully.

It's also important to note that I omit them for stylistic reasons quite often, in particular because if I included words like this everywhere that I think they should logically be, my writing would become like, unreadable. So I try to structure things whereby I set the reader up with reasonable assumptions about what generalizations are absolute, which ones are statistical but high confidence, which ones are very loose and so on. So for instance I'll often set up the appropriate way of understanding a generalization in the first paragraph in which it is introduced, and then make it clear from context that the reader should carry this through when I talk about it going forward. Maybe I don't always do a good job.

But like, consider this recent post. I first say that "I’m comfortable taking it almost as an axiom that no one should ever get kicked out of where they are living". And when I say almost, you know, I mean almost! Idk if other people's writing has this quality. Almost is not there for metrical shape, it's there for content! Anyway, later say something like "an ideal housing policy should respect this axiom", and this is meant to mean... well, I'm not sure really how to say it other than how I said it, it's meant to mean "an ideal housing policy should respect this axiom". A very important part of the semantics of this sentence is that I am invoking a sort of fundamental property of ideals, which is that you usually can't achieve them in actual practice but you should try to get close, modulo whatever constraints you are under. Maybe it's not clear that these constraints are the same constraints imposing exceptions to the axiom; that seems like a genuine ambiguity. Well that's on me.

Anyway, this post sounds kinda snarky like I'm getting on people's case for not reading my post correctly, but no that's not what I mean at all! No like, I'm not irritated at other for not reading a post how I intended it. But I've been wanting to write about my own writing style for a while, in particular because as I said I write in a very particular way whose meaning may not always be like... obvious to readers. And this was a good opportunity to like, point out one of the biggest ways in which my writing style is particular, and which sometimes leads to misunderstanding. Well anyway. Sorry this was written in a rush cause I have actual things I have to do today, there's probably typos and so on so please forgive that.

#navel gazing

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valtsv · 3 years ago

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wait hi you made the magic post so yes what is your opinion on eragon if you’ve read it?

i think that it's a very decent fantasy novel with a lot of potential considering that the first book was written when the author was 16 years old. it does fall victim to a lot of fantasy cliches and does at times feel derivative of existing popular scifi and fantasy stories like star wars, the lord of the rings, etc. which is a shame because it has a lot of really good and interesting worldbuilding, characters and plotlines and that can be overlooked as a result. eragon is unfortunately overshadowed by pretty much every other character, too, which can make it difficult to read at times because literally everyone is more interesting than our protagonist and i want to read more about them and less about him. also the amount of doctor who references felt... unnecessary at times. and there are some plot threads and implications of further lore behind certain characters, things and events that get brought up but never really given any sort of satisfying conclusion or explanation (angela the herbalist's entire character in particular falls victim to being too mysterious and unexplained to the point that it felt like paolini just let her do things because it was cool and never intended to explain them. which isn't the end of the world, but past a certain point it stops being funny and gets really frustrating). there were also some pacing issues at times, especially in the later books it felt like sometimes there was a lot of filler being used to pad out chapters so they didn't get to the final battle too quickly, and then the final confrontation ended up feeling a bit rushed and video-gamey.

all that being said, i absolutely love so many things about eragon. as i said, there are SO many interesting supporting characters i really enjoyed - nasuada was one of my absolute favorites; a black woman in a position of leadership with a well developed character and story and relationships and goals was really really nice to see, especially in a fantasy novel, and her pov chapters were probably some of the best in the book in my opinion. murtagh, arya, elva and roran were all really compelling characters too. and i found the magic system absolutely fantastic, it's probably one of my favorites of all time. i could write an entire essay on how interesting the concept of drawing on life energy to produce magic is and the ethical implications of it, not to mention the whole concept of the ancient language. i really loved how the books explored the consequences of misusing magic so thoroughly and answered a lot of questions in that regard (especially with elva; the idea of a child being forced to grow up too fast because they received a misworded blessing that, instead of shielding them from pain, caused them to experience everyone's agony simultaneously was SO fucked up and horrifying and absolutely delightful to read about as a result). the descriptions of different settings were also really cool; i always enjoyed reading the sections that introduced you to a new setting, especially those of the dwarven kingdom. and although it was far from being the next tolkien, it was nice to see consistent attempts at creating a fantasy language.

and then, of course, there's the dragons. i don't really have any complaints there. they're magnificent beasts and i really enjoyed that they had individual characters and weren't just dumb animals but an intelligent fantasy species with their own culture and history. my only issue is that the books never really seems able to decide how much agency they should have and how dependent on their riders they should be, but. eh. i can live with it i guess.

tl;dr it's a fun fantasy series with a LOT of good ideas that get a bit lost in the sauce sometimes but overall worth reading if you enjoy your fantasy with a heavy serving of cheese and surprisingly excellent worldbuilding.

#long post

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miloscat · 2 years ago

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[Review] Futurama (PS2)

The darker side of licenced games.

Having recently played some Star Wars/Trek games, I thought I’d throw in this sixth-generation game based on an excellent show that pastiches both, released shortly before the first of its many cancellations (ie. when the show was still good). While some aesthetic aspects are authentic, for some reason development was handed off to a Swedish studio mostly known for low-budget racing games and the gameplay suffers.

The strength of Futurama: The Game is in its presentation: the voice actors reprise their roles, the script was written by one of the show’s writers, and the music by its composer. The cel-shaded style also works fairly well in rendering a convincing 3D version of the show’s colourful world (although you’re really not supposed to see Fry and Leela’s hairstyles from certain angles!). Showrunner David X. Cohen even considers the collected cutscenes a sort of “lost episode”, and included an edited version as a bonus feature on one of the movie releases.

The problem is all the stuff between the cutscenes, where you have to play the thing. Levels are split between characters with different playstyles: Fry takes on third-person shooter segments in the streets and sewers of New New York, Bender does some platforming and brawling on a desert asteroid mine (including a Crash Bandicoot-esque chase-towards-the-screen bit), and Leela does fisticuffs and puzzling in an ethnically-ambiguous city on the surface of the Sun. To round things out, Zoidberg pops in for another Crash-style animal-riding autorunner, then everyone gets another turn in Mom’s trap-laden robot base.

Out of all these diverse gameplay styles, the 3D platformer parts are probably the most competent and fun, but they’re still dragged down by some slipperiness into instant death pits at various points (stock up on lives early, you’ll need them!). The combat is only ever fine at best, and doesn’t really suit the setting too much, especially with the sheer volume of it. Special mention must be made of Zoidberg’s awful ride with its dodgy hit detection and frequent slowdown; at least the game seems to know it will take many tries, and writes around suspending the lives system for this sequence.

The real problem is that the game is in these two halves, with the major cutscenes seeming like excerpts from the show and the main gameplay levels feeling like nothing so much as bloated, dull filler. There’s the occasional one-liner aside, and the playable characters have their oft-repeated barks, but the promise of an integrated “interactive episode” that the developers’ website boasted does not ring true from a player’s perspective. Please save yourself the trouble and watch the edited cutscene package “The Lost Adventure” rather than forcing yourself through this!

#futurama #uds #review #ps2 #futurama the game

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augustallosaurus · 2 years ago

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Tag Game

RULES: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it.

I was tagged by @ogsimpgoose and then accidentally forgot abt it for a few days LMFAO. I was reminded tonight hence the poor formatting of the post because I’m doing this on my phone before I pass out.

I’m fairly certain @pastel-skulls hasn’t been tagged yet :) suffer

world building works

“The Myceal Desert” — originally a world doc dedicated to a cat civilization heavily inspired by Ancient Egypt that I’ve been considering adding into my Big Project (tm)

“The Origins” — a word doc dedicated to the scribbled down notes I have surrounding what was originally Wolvden Lore but has since grown into something much bigger. It’s currently mostly about the Parthenon of Gods that rule over my various wolf packs.

“End / Elytrian Lore” — a doc I have that’s similar to the Origins doc in the sense that it’s filled with what is mostly mindless notes and scribbles. Though this one is about my Minecraft Au and the History and Biology of the creatures of the End Dimension.

“The ARK” — admittedly my most empty word doc that is going to be scribbles of ideas for my AU based around the game Ark: Survival Evolved with the slightest hint of Horizon: Zero Dawn.

original character works

“The Afterwood CYA” — a choose your own adventure style game I’ve been working on and off over the past year. Essentially you play the part of a wolf (yes, within the Origins universe) that wakes up within a world of eldritch horrors and must do what you can to survive.

“Afterwood CYA Prologue” — another choose your own adventure game that would act like a prologue to the above. Unlike the above, though, it would have a ‘canon’ ending that would be alluded to throughout the main CYA game. It’s meant to be like a tutorial level for the larger CYA.

“Ghast loses her wings” — an original character of mine (more specifically, an elytrian minecraft oc based off the Origins Mod) gets her wings ripped off a la Maleficent style and has to come to terms with the consequences of that, both mentally and physically. The story is actually told through the eyes of Goose’s (tagged above! :D) OC.

“Lord of the Rain” — a God within ‘the Origins’ Universe, Thunder Weaver, comes face to face with his murderer; the woman who loved him more than anything.

Abandoned Works

^ I do not plan on finishing these fics, but I would be more than happy to answer questions about them :)

“In the Beginning, there was Nothing.” — a short, “introduction monologue” style fic that would have introduced the Parthenon of the Origin Universe as well as the reasoning behind their creation.

“Into the Night Sky” — another wolf fic but it was more of a ‘filler’ than anything else. Originally meant to be a short little scene explaining the beginning of a massive shift within one of the packs and was heavily inspired by dialogue from the show Grey’s Anatomy.

“Driftrot” — “My parents named me Vulturekit, for the markings on my face. My father always seemed proud of it, some sort of sign from Starclan, but as I grew it just felt like a bitter reminder.”

“Dying” — “Frosted was never an optimist, so when he realizes that Badger Bite doesn’t have the herbs he needs to help his friend recover from influenza, he goes to extremes to ensure Whispering Wood’s survival.” Set within the Origin universe.

#tag game #unfinished works #writing

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joontier · 4 years ago

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Subliminal in Scrubs | V2; report xiii

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, workplace relationships

warnings: swearing

word count: 1.8k

g/n: decided on a bit of a filler for this one as a sort of prelude to future scenes 👀👀 ((likewise manifesting my plan to post another chapter this week))

[taglist]: @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle @btsmakesmehappy @stargukkie @moonchild1

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) | navi. | m.list

Jungkook locks his apartment door behind him, jiggling the doorknob afterwards for ‘double security’ as one would usually call it. He grabs his backpack from the floor and places one of the straps on his shoulders and heads on his way. As he passes by two of his neighbors who live in the same floor, he nods at them, adding a brief hum in greeting.

“Hey man!” One of the men, Jikwang (as what Jungkook believes this man’s name was), calls out just before Jungkook reaches the elevator. “There was this hot girl asking about you last night.”

Jungkook raises a brow. He hadn’t really met anyone recently, besides that one cute law student who was looking for a new tenant - and eventually turned out to be your neighbor this whole time. She was cute and all, but she didn’t seem like the type that was ‘hot’ to these types of people.

Jungkook racks his brain for anything, trying to remember the very few number of his one night stands.Surely,none of them would have gotten pregnant with protection on….surely? On top of that, he hadn’t really disclosed his address to a lot of people too, so there was no way someone would be looking for him, all the more a “hot” woman,as these two would claim.

“Did she say what her name was?”

The one beside Jikwang shakes his head, adjusting his beanie. He’d seen this dude a couple of times hanging around, but he never actually got his name. “Nah bro, I don’t think you’re the commitment type of dude…” he comments, dark eyes looking at Jungkook from his head down to his toe. Who was this guy anyways and who was he to judge whether Jungkook was the type to enter a committed relationship or not?

“She just...looked rich, rich. She had a driver... who helped her come down from a nice Benz.”

Jungkook feels his heart drop to the ground. No way in hell.

“I think her name was Hee something...Junghwa? I dunno man, I’m not good with names. But it sounds similar to that…”

“Was it Junghee?”

“Yeah I think that’s it…” bonnet-dude replies, tapping a finger against his chin as he approaches Jungkook. “You think maybe you can set me up? With you know…”

Jikwang knocks the back of bonnet-man’s head. “I got dibs first, shithead. “If she’s not already yours though,” he adds, delivering a wink aimed at Jungkook. “Her friends will do.”

Jungkook squints his eyes at the duo. “No. She’s my sister. And she doesn’t have any friends.” A chill courses through his spine as he replies, wondering how she managed to find out where he lived, and why would she even reach out? Why now, when she had so many years to do so?

Beanie guy simply laughs at him - if it was even considered laughing, when he was practically splitting his sides with laughter - like the thought of having a sister was hilarious to him. “You’re real funny, man. There is no...way...in hell… that that lady was your sister.”

Ah yes, this man is a health vice personified. Jungkook notes the discoloration of his teeth, the god-awful odor coming from his mouth, and they both reek of alcohol and drugs combined. From a safe distance, Jungkook watches their amusement over the subject that is his sister, thinking about why he even indulged these two in the first place. For all he knows, they might have been shitting on him the whole time.

“Sorry man. I mean...she’s rich and hot… and you?” Jikwang shrugs his shoulders.

‘And he?’ What about him?

What the hell was that supposed to mean?

Jungkook clicks his tongue silently, clearly taking full offense with Jikwang’s statement. Did they just imply he didn’t look rich and hot too? Well, compared to them though, they’ll obviously have way longer to go.

Jungkook blinks before equally returning their level of disbelief. “For real, bro?” These men diss him, won’t believe he has a sister whose aura dwarfs his by a million percent, and now they want him to set up a date with her? He shakes his head. Only crooks like these would say insane shit like this.

If only this wasn’t the cheapest and most convenient apartment he could find to accommodate his daily hustle, Jungkook would have moved out of this crap excuse of an apartment building a long time ago.

“Keep dreaming man.”

“Hey, this is what I get for selling you my bike for a good price?” Jikwang eyes Jungkook, taunting him.

“I owe you nothing. I paid for it ages ago.” Jungkook turns on his heel, leaving the two in the crusty ass corridor of their apartment building. He needs to get a new place. Quickly.

With a sigh, he pulls on his down jacket, keeping himself warm as he walks to the garage.

‘King Auto’

There’s a certain warmth that envelops Jungkook whenever he sees the garage, a place he’d rather call home than his terrible apartment building. It sits right at the corner of two busy streets, just six blocks away from his apartment.

Funnily enough, it wasn’t him who first found out about the garage but the other way around. Well, technically, the owner did. Lee Dongmin, owner and manager of ‘King Auto’ repairs and restores almost all types of cars and bikes alike, occasionally servicing high-end cars on lucky days.

Dongmin would usually see Jungkook pass by the garage in the morning on his way to the university or his part-time job.Well, being located at a busy street in the city of Seoul, there would normally be a lot of passersby but Dongmin knew these people either worked or lived around the area; Jungkook, however, always lingered when he walks past the garage.

It had come to Dongmin’s knowledge a few months later that Jungkook purposefully used a longer route on his way, walking two extra blocks just so that he could pass by the garage. Dongmin hadn’t initially done anything about it, as he thought Jungkook simply took interest in cars - especially when the shop had its fair share of servicing cars from the western market.

There was this particular day though one summer, that their paths would finally cross. Jungkook’s bike, the same bike he bought from sketchy Jikwang, broke down. Coincidentally just in front of King Auto too. Funnily enough, no one in the garage was familiar with fixing up bikes, but Jungkook simply asked if he could borrow a few tools and he’d fix his bike himself.

Ultimately, Jungkook became part of the King Auto family. He’d spend his spare time in the garage when he’s not busy with his part-time jobs and on occasion, Jungkook gets to keep a tiny commission whenever he helps out with the repairs.

Jungkook goes through the front door greeting the new receptionist, Clark, a good morning before heading straight to the garage. Jungkook spots a familiar shade of blue peeking through the scissor lifts, just by the end row. He practically dashes to the car in excitement, too thrilled to greet his favorite car he had worked on previously.

“My baby!” The boy exclaims as he rests his chin on the Porsche Panamera’s roof. “Kook! Get your hands off that! I just had it cleaned!” gruffs Mansik from the other side of the car, flinging his towel at Jungkook who mumbles a sorry but continues to cradle the car, a little more gently this time.

“If you continue doing that, you know a towel isn’t the only thing Mansik is going to throw at you.” Lee Dongmin’s voice is low, careful that the man he’s referring to won’t hear his words. “I’m glad he hasn’t resorted to tools yet...just a couple of smelly socks and a t-shirt that smells like it hasn’t been washed for months... “

“Fuckers.” True to Jungkook’s foreboding, Mansik does throw a sock ball from out of nowhere, one which barely misses Jungkook’s face. Dongmin simply shakes his head at his workers, who he has considered family at this point, Jungkook included. “I’m just glad none of that fell into my first coffee of the day.” Dongmin observes, drawing himself father from the Porsche and any flying objects later on.

“By the way, the owner is actually here to pick up the car. I may or may not have mentioned your infatuation with it.”

Jungkook almost instantly jumps to his feet, searching for the owner inside the garage, but disappointingly ending up with all the familiar faces at the garage. “Chill, kid. He just grabbed some coffee down the street,” Dongmin mentions as he takes a sip of his own. “Ah, speaking of the devil,” the latter states, nodding his head towards someone behind Jungkook.

“Seokjin-sunbaenim?”

“Oh hey! Wasn’t expecting to see you here...Jungkook, right?”

“Yes sir!” Jungkook’s pupils shake, animatedly looking back and forth between the garage owner and his upper-level resident. “So...you’re the one who owns this Porsche?” Seokjin raises his cup, adding a small nod in Jungkook’s direction. He internalizes his excitement, before confessing his love for Seokjin’s Panamera.

“And so, Dongmin here mentioned. Also said you were the one who fixed her up. Thanks man!”

Dongmin looks at the two of them, eyebrows creased in the middle. “You two know each other?”

“Seokjin-sunbaenim is a senior of mine at Woocheon.” Seemingly shellshocked at the new piece of information, Dongmin turns to Seokjin, “You’re a doctor?” The owner of the Porsche rolls his eyes fondly, “Yes, Dongmin. We can have lives outside the hospital too, you know.”

“Anyways, ‘Mera’s ready to go yeah?”

“Of course. Kook fixed it up just fine.”

“Alright. Got a shift today man? Need a ride to the hospital?”

Jungkook is tempted to give in, but merely fixing Seokjin’s car is enough honor for him and he can’t take advantage of his generosity. “No thank you, sunbae. I’ve already got a ride to work today.” Jungkook points to his bike on the other side of the garage.

Seokjin tuts his disbelief. “You’re kidding me right? In this weather?” The older doctor points outside, then rubs his palm against his down coat. “No way in hell, kid. Get in the car.”

“Really?” Jungkook mumbles, dimple on display as his lips form a thin line. Seokjin makes a hum of approval as he takes off his jacket while Jungkook dashes back to where he’d left his backpack. “He’s a good kid, Jungkook. Can be a bit of a delinquent sometimes, but he’s good. Take care of him, yeah?”

“Huh,” Seokjin smirks, “this handsome face got nothing he can’t handle.” Dongmin rolls his eyes this time, “Seriously doubt we’re the same age honestly.”

Jungkook returns to where the Porsche is parked, and Seokjin gets a spur-of-the-moment idea. The surgical resident throws his keys to Jungkook before settling inside the passenger seat. Jungkook, surprised as ever, simply stands there in surprise. “Well?” Seokjin asks, ducking towards the dashboard so he could take a look at Jungkook, “We’re gonna be late!”

#jungkook x reader #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #btsghostie #jeon jungkook #bts aus #bts fic #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fluff #doctors au

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collectionoftulips · 3 years ago

Note

re kate and edwina, i think objectively the biggest problem with s2 is pacing and how rushed the last several episodes, or actually, the second half feels, and why it feels like what you mentioned wasn't entirely resolved. and if charithra isn't coming back for s3, then we can't even assume they deliberately left it to be further developed in subsequent seasons. a hugely unpopular opinion, but i didn't actually hate most of s2 plots, i don't think k&e's relationship was that badly done, at least the gist of the conflict, it just seems super rushed in the end. and it winds up being like, 5-6 episodes of tension/build-up, 6-7 is like a fallout and then 8th is like, everything is wrapped up nicely now very quickly and a lot of it offscreen. and i don't actually mind that not every conversation between kate, mary, edwina, was shown, we didn't need to see everything, but together with other issues with the writing, the season imo ends up feeling unbalanced. (another my opinion is that many fans were disappointed bc they wanted edwina to be a superficial background character whose only purpose would be to be a kathony cheerleader. the book edwina is hardly a well-rounded character to be realistic)

Yeah pacing is a huge issue in season two, which is a shame because if the pacing was more balanced I would like to believe some of these issues wouldn't be so severe.

Up until the announcement that Charithra isn't coming back, I just kinda foolishly assumed that all of the Sharmas would be permanent fixtures in season three (but in retrospect I think it was probably more fuelled by the fact that I connected to their family more than the other Bridgerton families for some reason).

I have a complicated relationship to the subplots of season two (or the other plots, I guess I might call them). Theoretically, I wouldn't have minded them but, I think, for me, the biggest problem is that unlike s1, the subplots in s2 were not really connected in any way to the main arc. In s1, the subplots would eventually reveal something to either Daphne or Simon or mirror the journey they were at, etc. That made all the different bits feel like part of a whole. I did not have the same feeling with regards to season two (and even upon rewatching it again I feel the same). It makes the subplots, to me, feel like filler or like I'm not entirely sure why I'm watching it. Penelope's story I guess was set up for s3, Eloise's arc I'm still not entirely sure what the main point of it was aside from the fight with Penelope (like the stuff with Theo I'm not sure what they were going for there).

Because season two felt like they lacked a bit of narrative connective tissue (if you will), I wonder if that's why the lack of Sharmas in s2 stands out to me? Like, if we can now sadly dispense with the idea that they get more space in s3 😢, they constantly hinted at backstories and plots (like Mary's whole deal etc) and the lack of showing any of those things stands in stark contrast to the intricate insight we got into the Featherington's financial situation. I think being shown everything would indeed be excessive, but there were certain things that I think they could have given maybe five more minutes to, at least for the stuff that really matters (which at least to me would include the relationship between Edwina and Kate considering they were both sort of vying for the attentions of the same man and a lot of Kate's conflict was how what she wanted went against the good of her family).

That's at least my general take that I'm gradually building as to why I feel like season two felt so unbalanced. That in combination with, as you say, they had to squeeze so much into the last two episodes. So I'm not necessarily disagreeing with what you're saying but complementing it with my own take, if you will.

Not an expert on the books but I agree that book!Edwina was hardly a well rounded character (but she wasn't bad) and I didn't mind the sheltered spoiled younger sister vibe they went with her on the show (I don't understand entirely all the Edwina hate I hear being floated around) and I definitely like she got more of her own identity with flaws etc. so no complaints from me on that score.

Thank you so much for your ask ❤️

#bridgerton #kathony #kanthony

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pebblysand · 4 years ago

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[writing rant - on filler words]

[yes, i should be writing castles but here i am giving you unwarranted writing advice instead. sue me.]

this morning, you might have seen me reblog this post on filler words. it's a classic, very typical piece of writing advice where the author lists a number of filler words/sentences that you should scrape from your writing to appeal to publishers or make your prose seem more professional or whatever. i reblogged it saying: 'i disagree with most of these, don't listen to people who tell you how to write.' which a couple of you liked (cheers!) but upon reflection, i feel like this needs a bit more of a nuanced response, which is what i'm doing now. i'm not reblogging the post again because it's long and this is going to be long, and tumblr isn't necessarily text-friendly but do go read it first if you fancy.

now, as far as i'm concerned, the truth isn't that i think filler words are amazing and that you should keep them all, love them all equally like your precious children. of course, you should watch out for them. just like we do when we speak, we fill our written sentences with a lot of pointless fluff that brings nothing to our message. when used "wrongly," filler words slow down sentence pacing, hurt the rhythm of your prose, your ability to choose the correct lexicon for certain actions, etc. they're not always good, and you should definitely be aware of them in your prose.

however, what i dislike about these types of posts is the way people dispensing this "writing advice" make whatever they're saying sound like some sort of golden rule. like: if you don't do this, your story will be shit and never get published. i don't know much about the publishing world but i have written 300,000+ words of mildly successful fanfiction over the years, so i do know a thing or two about writing as a craft, if not a business. and, here's the raw, honest truth: believing that anything about this crazy art we're making is set in stone? that is the kind of thing that will make you a shit writer.

now, if you're following this blog, i'm guessing you like my writing, are probably quite familiar with it. then, this will not be a surprise to you: while i don't pretend to hold any sort of truth on the matter, god knows, i use a shit ton of filler words. by which i mean: a SHIT TON. take any paragraph of any fic i've ever written and i'm sure i could point you to some random word "botox" in pretty much every sentence. this post itself, if you're paying close attention, is also filled with them. and, another surprise: i know that. it's by design.

and, that, my friends, is what matters most. you should watch out for filler words, be aware of them, but if they end up in your final draft, it has to be for a reason. in fairness, i think that's where most of those writing advice posts get it "wrong" and why they annoy me so much: they tell part of the story, but not all of it. they talk about words in a vacuum like our words only exist to be pretty on a page, rather than to share something with other human beings.

now, as a disclaimer, i should preface this by saying that: it depends what kind of writing you're into. this is all very related to personal taste. as a reader, i tend to prefer stories that are told from a very distinct pov, where the story is told by a character rather than by the author. this preference also informs my writing. to me, a story can be first person or third person, it doesn't really matter, but i like a good old restrictive, terribly biased and unreliable pov in a story. i'm someone who 100% favours character over plot (although plot is terribly important too, don't get me wrong) and i like a person to tell me a story, not a robot.

in that context, "filler words" aren't just sentence "botox," they tell a story, too. they tell you who your narrator is. in a post like this, they inform you that i probably speak quickly, that i'm somewhat bubbly but assertive, that my sentences are long and rhythmic, and when i write "in fairness" rather than "to be fair," or "to be honest," it even hints to the fact that my main dialect is hiberno-English. in a work of fiction, filler words can tell you mountains about where your character is from, what they think, feel, etc... are their sentences short and devoid of any filler words? perhaps, they are extremely poised and self-confident, or perhaps they are so detached from what is happening that they are actually on the verge of an emotional breakdown. are their sentences filled with "just"s and "you know"s and "slightly"s and "really"s? perhaps they are insecure, unsure of what their next move will be.

filler words are also where style and pet peeves happen. you'll notice that i use "and:" and "like:" as sentence openers relatively often. it depends on the work and how i feel about the character, but it is something i enjoy playing with. i use 'rather' and 'perhaps' frequently, too, frankly for no other reason than the fact that i like the sound of them. not everyone does, obviously, but since i'm the queen of my own fictional kingdom, i get to authoritatively decide to abuse them. that og post said to not use "that" as a conjunction (prefer: "he said he wouldn't," to: "he said that he wouldn't). man, aside from dialogue, i hate "he said he wouldn't" with a passion. i always use "that" as a conjunction and detest the way my sentences sound without it. i find the absence of "that" clunky and unclear. i don't know whether it is right or wrong, but that's how i roll. the people of the internet seem to like it but if they don't, they're more than welcome to read the work of another author who doesn't use "that" as a conjunction. i'm not holding a gun to their head.

however, as you've probably guessed from the above, this doesn't mean that you shouldn't be aware of your filler words. both yours and your characters'. know what you like, what you don't like, how your narrator narrates and how your characters speak. know how you speak and write, what your strengths and weaknesses as a writer are. edit your work critically. this being said, scraping all the words that make the work special is ludicrous. you would be scraping your work of so much personality that could actually be what makes it unique. writing is an art, not a game of exactitude. if the goal was to write everything perfectly, you could ask siri or alexa to write your short story for you. where you need to be careful with filler words is for them to serve your story, rather than hurt it. the filler words? they need to be carefully considered, questioned, and you need to make sure that they are intentional, not accidental.

and, of course, that's the hard part. that's the part of the writing advice these posts never get into because making blanket statements in the world is always easier than saying: it depends. creating a work of art out of thin air isn't as easy as cmd+f-ing all the "just"s and hitting "delete all." it's noticing which of those filler words you overuse, and keeping them in the back of your mind while you edit, taking a lot of them out. it's listening to your beta/editor when they tell you to take more out. it's also sitting for hours in front of your word document, contemplating every sentence and asking: should i use "just" here? does it show anything? does it have a purpose? does it sound right? let me read this out loud. and, what about the "eventually" there? does that sound natural? is that more of dialogue thing?

that's the line of critical thinking that will make you write better. and, don't get me wrong, posts like the above are useful as a guide in the way that they tend to list the most frequently used filler words, which you can then use as an inspiration to spot these idiosyncrasies in your writing, decide whether to scratch them or use them creatively. but: i'm sorry to say, there's no golden rule to it all. just hard work and practice. trust yourself.

i hope this helps.

#writing tips #writing advice #filler words #writing rants

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chenoehi · 4 years ago

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Thoughts on Kirinmaru, Setsuna’s “death,” and Sesshomaru’s Rite of Courage and Cowardice (sp? I’m tired)

Working together:

First of all, we STILL need to know how Setsuna came to repeat those very words Sesshomaru has uttered now twice, but that lingering mystery aside,

It seems obvious to me that Kirinmaru and Sesshomaru are working together for some goal, perhaps to push the Yashahimes to their limits to see them grow. One thing that needs to be cleared up (among many things) is why Sesshomaru gave the girls pearls in the first place, especially now that Kirinmaru mentioned they had relied on them too much (relied how? how did they even work exactly?). Clearly we’re not done with the pearls storyline since they’ve been scattered gain so I’m at least hopeful we’ll eventually get some answers.

In this episode, Sesshomaru and Kirinmaru never once fight and they only seem to disagree on what to do about Zero. Kirinmaru clearly has disdain for Zero and doesn’t like what she’s doing, and it seems he doesn’t actually WANT to kill the girls. But, he does want to test their limits and he does that by bringing them to the edge. He laments that Setsuna cannot be brought back now that Tenseiga is broken and he lets the other two live. He has always been depicted to have honor, and he ends the fight by praising them (as he did the whole way through). Kirinmaru clearly acts like a teacher of sorts by explaining their powers to them and what to call them, and if we tie this back to Osamu Kirin’s role as Towa’s teacher and how he lets her off easy for being late to class, it draws a clear picture that Kirinmaru is not the actual villain of the series.

While Kirinmaru does not want his sister to die, Sesshomaru is finished with her games and is now pursuing her openly. Kirinmaru doesn’t want his sister to die supposedly so he tries to stop Sesshomaru, but otherwise they seem to be on the same page about other things. Specifically, we have the pinwheel issue which we still don’t know much about yet, and then we have this rite of courage and cowardice.

I think Sesshomaru is saying to Kirinmaru that he considers their battle to be something necessary for them to grow. We know that Tōga also wished for Sesshomaru to grow into a more powerful being but that he also wanted him to learn compassion; this was his struggle and only when he overcame it did he gain the power he sought. Sesshomaru clearly sees these events as necessary for their growth, or so it seems. Kirinmaru still does not feel like a big bad even though he axed Setsuna, and it’s really hard to tell whether she’s actually dead or just sleeping in stasis.

Setsuna’s death:

Setsuna “dying” is misleading, I believe, because we see the Dream Butterfly dissipate and give her the ability to dream back.

I think this clearly means that Setsuna had to “die” in order for the chord to be cut, meaning that she too was tied to Zero like Rin is which means that if Zero died Setsuna would be in danger too. That part could be debunked by ep.23, but, Rin didn’t actually die yet when Zero died. She was still in stasis and was only declared to be in danger. That doesn’t mean Setsuna could not also be tied as well. Only, Rin cannot be brought back with Tenseiga. We even got the callback with the line about how Tenseiga can only revive a person once. Tenseiga has never been used on Setsuna so she can still be saved. This appears to be where we are going with Season 2 and this new heavenly Yuwari sword.

So I think Setsuna had to die in order for the chord to be cut, meaning Setsuna was tied to Zero either like Rin or that she would have to die for the Dream Butterfly curse to be lifted (more likely). We still don’t know how Kirinmaru and the Dream Butterfly are connected or Zero even, but obviously it was used on Setsuna to remove her ability to dream FOR SOME REASON and we now see that when she “died” it looks like her ability to dream again was restored. So I don’t actually think she’s dead dead just like Rin isn’t dead, she’s in stasis. But, she may appear dead to others. I’m sure Rin would appear dead to others if she wasn’t secured in the tree. I’ll be curious to see if they perform a burial for Setsuna or not, I wouldn’t think so because I have no belief whatsoever that she’s gone forever and not coming back.

Her return seems to be clearly tied to Towa’s mysterious “heavenly” abilities she displayed early on, which will tie in nicely with this new sword coming into play.

This new heavenly sword:

The sword that Sesshomaru gives Towa could be the broken Tenseiga, and since Towa can wield a broken sword already using her energy maybe there’s a way she can still wield it. Or, the sword she’s being given is this new Yuwari (sp?) sword. We can speculate it’s the sword she’s holding in the Season 2 promo, but I think it’s just Tenseiga and that we haven’t seen Yuwari yet, but I could be wrong.

The Yuwari sword looks eerily similar to Kirinmaru’s sword, which btw harkens back to his comment to Sesshomaru about how the heavens and earth resound when their blades clash. This Yuwari sword is referred to as a Heavenly sword by Totosai, and of the three Yashahimes it would be the clear choice for Towa to be the wielder of that kind of sword. We’ve already seen her purify/release souls/whatever it is exactly she’s done in the past with people like Tokotsu which is similar to what Sesshomaru did for those souls in the Underworld in FA, when he sent them to heaven I believe.

It may be that Setsuna’s soul has left her body after all (dying for good to lift the curse) and by the time Tenseiga is reforged or Towa finds a way to wield it Setsuna may be unable to return. This could usher in Towa’s training with the new heavenly sword soon to be created or forged. Totosai says he is coming to see it’s birth (I can’t remember his exact words) so it seems like it could have been born from the clash between the Yashahimes and Kirinmaru or specifically from Towa’s body maybe ala Bakusaiga style.

Kirinmaru brought them to space somehow. Maybe that was necessary to bring about the conditions for the birth of this heavenly sword. We know from the past with both Tessaiga, Tenseiga, and Bakusaiga, certain conditions must be met in order for the wielders of those swords to either create them, wield them, or learn unlock new techniques. Maybe this sword had to born from a clash in the heavens sort of thing, literally.

Tdlr; if Towa learning how to wield a broken Tenseiga is one plot thread, and the other is her learning how to use her spiritual powers to wield the new Yuwari sword, then she could bring Rin back too if Rin also dies to cut the chord and lift the curse, because then it won’t matter if Tenseiga can’t bring her back. Towa won’t need it.

So many things are up in the air, but I think a few things are definite:

Zero is related to Moe, based on several things.

Towa’s Yuwari sword will allow her to get Setsuna (her soul?) back.

Sesshomaru gave Towa Tenseiga.

Towa will be able to wield a broken Tenseiga.

Kirinmaru is not the bad guy.

Sesshomaru and Kirinmaru are not and have never been enemies but have been on the same page from the start.

Sesshomaru was always trying to help Inuyasha (obviously) by whisking him away and Kirinmaru may not actually have wanted to kill him (that whole thing with Sesshomaru showing up and saying “hey you wanna kill Inuyasha” then saving him was too odd to just be what it appears to be on the surface, we never see what happens after the twins birth for a reason).

EVENTUALLY we will find out what the hell happened after the girl’s birth (and maybe before) that set this shitstorm in motion. Season 2 has got to start focusing on more of the personal drama and unraveling events than exposition and monster of the week shit. We’ve got to be past that come next season because too much is still unclear to have more fillers and BS. Which means S2 could be meatier, a good thing. Yashahime has to start giving us the goods, it’s only given us a nibble.

#yashahime #hanyou no yashahime #hanyo no yashahime #yashahime princess half demon #hny #Towa higurashi #Setsuna #sesshomaru #Kirinmaru #inuyasha #yashahime zero

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my-aria-nails · 4 years ago

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#eyes #eyelashes #eyelashextensions #volume lashes #extension #eyebrows

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imaginedhaven · 4 years ago

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Rules of Engagement: Chapter Nineteen

Link to Masterpost

It’s here! It’s finally here! Thank you all so much for putting up with my extended absence while I wrangled this chapter and my life. The first half feels... idk, kind of filler-y? But I hope the second half makes up for it!

Definitely just one more after this and then an epilogue.

~*~*~

Aelin frowned as she looked over yet another draft of a letter, grabbing at the candle on her desk to keep it steady as a particularly large wave rocked the ship. “I hate formal letters,” she grumbled.

Aedion chuckled from the bed across the room from her own. “It can’t possibly be any worse than the… seventeen previous attempts,” he said as he glanced at the scraps of paper littering the area around her.

“Aedion, this is important.” She sighed, tugging at her own hair. “Everything is on the line, and I need it to be perfect.”

“How is it,” he asked, “that you can be absolutely fearless facing down a Valg queen and yet be so defeated by a simple piece of paper?”

“Says the male who couldn’t even tell me he’d met his father before we’d already left Wendlyn,” Aelin retorted unthinkingly before immediately regretting her words.

Rather than get angry, though, Aedion only sighed. Aelin frowned; he must truly have been torn about the situation, if he wasn’t yelling at her. “Says the male who followed you to face down said Valg queen,” he replied, though it was without any of his usual teasing.

“Very well,” she said primly. “If you would like to write to the lords and request this meeting, then by all means.” She stood up and positioned herself beside the desk chair, sweeping an arm toward it in a grand gesture with a grin.

He finally laughed, and though it was a shadow of his normal reaction it made her smile regardless. “You don’t want me writing to the lords under your name. They’d only hate you more.”

Aelin sighed, tugging at the end of her own braid. “It was easier when I didn’t care how they felt about me, you know.”

“I know.” Aedion stood then, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “But for what it’s worth, the fact that you care—and that all you’ve done here, you’ve done for Terrasen—those facts, not any pretty words you can put on a paper, are what will hold the most sway.”

“I hope you’re right.” She leaned against him, head resting against his shoulder. “I’m certainly not good at pretty words. You saw my letter to Galen, right?”

He chuckled at the memory. “’Terrasen remembers Evalin Ashryver.’ So needlessly dramatic.”

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” she asked, defensive. “He met with me, and he even agreed with me.”

“I never questioned your results, cousin, only your methods.”

Aelin let out a noise that sounded embarrassingly close to a squawk, outraged. “My methods are what got us to this point, cousin,” she reminded him. “They brought us the proof we needed as well as the support of other royal lines. Not to mention the end of a longstanding enemy of Terrasen. Oh, and a Valg queen.”

“That reminds me,” Aedion drawled as Aelin froze, “I wanted to ask you about how you knew of this Arobynn Hamel in the first place.”

Aelin winced. While it had been easy enough to avoid the question with Captain Westfall, she knew Aedion would not be so easily put off. Not to mention the fact that she was fairly certain he was still upset with her for keeping her plans from him. If she didn’t handle this in just the right way, she was liable to have a far larger fight with her only surviving family than she was prepared for.

And she was certainly not prepared to handle the situation correctly now, not while there was so much else to do. Instead, she sighed. “Can we talk about him later?” she pleaded. “I really do need to work out what I’m going to say to the lords.”

“You’re terrified,” he said softly, as if in realization. “I didn’t stop to think of why you never told me. I was just angry that you were leaving me out when I could help.”

Aelin grimaced. “Is it truly that obvious?”

“It likely wouldn’t be to many others. Only to those who know you well.”

With a wave of her hand, she extinguished the flame of the candle on her desk. She wasn’t going to get any further on the letter, not right now. Perhaps she would go up to the deck and let the motion of the waves ease her mind. That plan had the further benefit of ending this conversation; Aedion was avoiding looking at the ocean for any great length of time.

Before she could leave, though, Aedion spoke again. “Tell me, Aelin. What are you so afraid of? Why would you keep all of this to yourself, for so long?”

Aelin sighed. So the truth-telling was to start now after all, then. “You’ll hate me,” she whispered.

“I could never hate you.” His reply was soft and yet fierce, and when she looked at him she saw a fire in his eyes that matched her own.

“Truly?” she asked. “Even if I nearly left Terrasen with no clear ruler?”

There was no hesitation in Aedion’s voice as he responded. “Even then. Terrasen is our home, but you’re my family.”

Aelin could feel the tears welling up in her eyes from the affirmation of her cousin’s loyalty and devotion. Rather than letting him see it as well, though, she tugged him into a firm embrace. “I’m going to the upper deck,” she declared, “before you decide you’re sick of me after all.”

He laughed. “It’s far too late for that. Are you sure you’re not going up there to see if you can spot a hawk following behind the ship?”

Aelin didn’t bother pretending she didn’t know what he was talking about. “He won’t be,” she said simply. “I ordered him not to.”

As she climbed the ladder and looked out onto the horizon, though, she couldn’t quite stop herself from looking eastward and imagining a pair of wings in the distance.

~*~*~

“We’ve spoken of this continent at great length,” Sellene said as she set a map aside. “But what of Erilea? Did we have ties with them? Will any of the nations want diplomatic ties, other than Terrasen?”

“I imagine most of Erilea will want to hear from you, now that we’re establishing ties with Terrasen,” Rowan said wearily. “We largely ignored the entire continent before now, as Maeve never left Doranelle.”

“And now we know why.” Sellene frowned. “I should probably make it a point to arrange a diplomatic tour and re-establish some of those ties. We’ve been secluded for far too long as it is. Not to mention, I’m soon to have family in Erilea.”

And there it was. He had been wondering how long it would take her to bring up the obvious relationship between himself and Aelin. To be blunt, he was surprised she had made it a full week without that teasing glimmer in her eyes. “It would be even sooner, if you would consider my portion of this mess completed so that I could leave,” he remarked pointedly.

Sellene laughed, clearly delighting in his misery as she usually did. “And ruin Aelin’s moment? I couldn’t possibly be so rude. No, she told me exactly when to send you back, and I intend to listen to her.”

“And I’m assuming you don’t intend to tell me a damned thing about it,” he grumbled.

Though she didn’t directly answer his question, Sellene’s grin told him everything he needed to know. “You’re about to be leaving us forever,” she said in a tone approaching serious. “I think that means I can keep you here for a little bit longer.”

“Does it bother you?” Not the question he had intended to ask, but he supposed he couldn’t take it back at this point.

“On a political level, or a personal one?”

“Either. Both.” Sellene wasn’t the closest of his cousins; that honor belonged to Enda, with whom he had been raised. However, the Whitethorns were a close enough family in general that it was possible and even likely that she had an opinion of some sort about it.

“No, and no,” she smiled. “Your mating and likely eventual marriage to the future queen of Terrasen is a political boon, not a drawback at all. Not to mention that I like her for you. She’s going to challenge you, and the gods know you need that.”

“She already has,” he grumbled, but he couldn’t keep a hint of a smile from his face in response. “Daily, in fact.”

“I knew I liked her.” Sellene shifted her attention back to the maps laid out in front of them. “She has family in Wendlyn as well, right? Her potential claim came from her Ashryver heritage, if I’m not mistaken.”

Rowan nodded. “She does, though relations between Wendlyn and Terrasen have been somewhat strained of late. Maeve’s disapproval of the marriage between Evalin Ashryver and Rhoe Galathynius left an impact that has been felt for decades.”

“I see,” she muttered. “So this transition is truly going to affect large parts of the world.”

“Larger than many know, and larger than most of those who know are willing to admit. It will likely take months or even years for the full impact to be revealed.”

Gods, he certainly hoped she didn’t intend to keep him here for months or years. It had been ten days since Aelin had left and ordered him to remain, and they had been some of the longest days of his life to date. The pull of their bond tugged at him with every waking moment, just enough that it was impossible to forget, and he frequently found himself looking to the northwest as though he could see her across the sea that separated them.

A slender hand tucked itself into the crook of his elbow, and he turned his head to see that Sellene was now standing beside him. “It won’t be forever,” she murmured. “It won’t even be very long. I know we can’t hope to keep you for any great length of time.”

It was true enough, certainly. Even the blood oath he had sworn felt like a mere suggestion against the pull of the mating bond, one he knew he could likely work around with even the most shallow of excuses. Still, he frowned at his cousin. “And yet here I am.”

“I have plans for you yet,” she replied. “We’re done for today, though. I need to meet with Lorcan and Vaughan, now that they’ve returned.”

Rowan nodded and turned to the window again, glancing once more in the direction of the sea. “Vaughan is likely to stay and serve you,” he said quietly. “It’s Lorcan you’ll need to convince.”

“I don’t intend to keep anyone who doesn’t wish to stay. Yourself included. I’ll meet with them all, but you’ll all have a choice.” When he turned to face her the amused glimmer was gone from her eyes and the corners of her mouth were drawn down in a thoughtful frown. “I will not rule as Maeve did.”

“You never did like me having sworn to her,” he recalled.

Sellene scowled. “She swept in when you were at your lowest moment and made a bargain you had little choice but to accept. Our family may have officially forgotten that, but I assure you that I have not.”

“It was my choice,” he protested, the words sounding hollow even to his own ears.

“We can discuss this later.” She dismissed the topic with a shake of her head. “I really do have a meeting to get to, and you’ve been staring at the skies for the past hour. Go fly.”

Rowan didn’t even wait for her to leave the room before shifting, darting out of the open window in a flurry of winds and wings. He may not be able to go to his mate just yet, but perhaps the flight would clear his head long enough to do what had to be done.

~*~*~

Aelin sighed as she stared at the double doors she knew led to the audience chamber. The lords of Terrasen had gathered as she had requested, and now that she’d had a day to try and rest it was time to face them.

As she stood, she smoothed trembling fingers over the green silk of the gown she had chosen for this meeting. It was a simple style, adorned with a belt and jewelry of silver to match Terrasen’s colors. Though as crown princess she was entitled to wear a circlet in official meetings, she had chosen to forego the headpiece. Instead, her hair was braided around her head in a style that mimicked the circlet she had decided to go without. She and Lysandra had carefully decided on every element of her appearance that morning, knowing she would need to present herself as someone who loved her country, but wasn’t preemptively assuming the role she was seeking.

She truly disliked this part of politics, she thought with a sigh. But her image mattered just as much as her deeds, for all she thought it shouldn’t, and she had a part to play.

With that in mind, she carefully assumed an easy smile before pushing the doors open and strolling into the room.

A long table had been set up in the chamber, with a seat for each of the prominent lords of Terrasen. She glanced at each one as she passed, as was expected and polite, though she didn’t truly see any of them. No, all of her focus was on the open throne at the end of the table. It would continue to go vacant, of course; Darrow was only a regent, not a king, and she was not yet queen. They each had their own chair on either side of the vacant throne, and Darrow was already seated in his.

With any luck, this would be the last day the throne would be empty. Aelin took a breath and thought a silent prayer to Mala Fire-bringer before sitting in her own chair. “I’m so pleased you were all able to meet with me on such short notice,” she began. “Much has happened since the last time we were all able to gather.”

“I should say so,” a voice sneered from across the table. “A foreign queen is dead, by your hand. Your letter admitted as much.”

Another deep breath, and Aelin looked inside herself, searching for the drop of calming water at the center of her fiery power. “Lord Sloane,” she acknowledged, pleased with the lack of tremor in her voice. “I’m certain you have concerns, as there was only so much I could share in my letter. I hope to address those concerns today.”

“And we are pleased to hear your explanation.” This voice was warmer, and Aelin rewarded Lord Murtaugh Allsbrook with a thin smile.

“Thank you, Lord Allsbrook. My cousin and our general, Aedion, has gathered the evidence that we obtained over the course of the past several months, proving that the Fae Queen was not who she claimed to be.” With that, she set the book and various papers they had accumulated during their research on the table, to be passed around among the lords. “Before I acted, I presented this evidence in Adarlan and in Wendlyn. I also sent copies to the other ruling families in Erilea, though I did not have time to wait for all of them to reply. I did everything I could to both protect us all from the threat of the Valg and upset the balance of power as little as possible. That leads me to the reason I called you all here today.”

“Why call us here, if not to explain yourself?”

Another deep breath, another grasp at what calm laid within her. “Explaining my actions was always intended to be a part of this meeting, Lord Ironwood. I could hardly expect you to trust me blindly.”

A softer voice spoke up then. “You have my thanks, and you should have the thanks of all present, for both saving our kingdom and taking the time to explain your actions.”

“It was the least I owed you, Lord Suria,” she replied.

The meeting went on, her own words barely registering in her ears. Ordinarily by this point she would’ve already singed some of the papers spread across the table, or at the very least shouted at someone as smoke began to fill the room. Rowan’s training had paid off, after all.

She quickly cut off that line of thinking. It wouldn’t do to tune completely out of the conversation in favor of missing Rowan, not when everything she had worked for was on the line.

Finally, she reached the moment she had been building toward. “So, we’ve agreed that my magic is much better controlled than it has been in years. That leaves the question of a spouse.”

“Yes,” Regent Darrow interjected. “We heard that you won’t be marrying Prince Dorian after all. Have you made another selection?”

Aelin took a deep breath. “It is my request to you and to all of the lords present that I be allowed to assume my throne without a husband. I believe that I have proven myself and my love of this country, and I have made every effort to comply with your requests. Many of our previous rulers, and many of our current and previous lords, have gone on to successful careers unmarried and found their spouses in good time. This is not a declaration that I will never marry, simply a request that my current marital status be removed from your consideration of my right to rule.”

Silence followed her statement, but Aelin kept her nerves from her expression as best she could. She had said her piece and presented the evidence, and now her fate rested in the hands of the lords.

She knew that Lords Ironwood, Sloane, and Gunnar would be the least likely to accept. Lord Allsbrook was likely firmly on her side, and Lord Suria had proven reasonable in the past. Regent Darrow was technically one of the lords as well, and she couldn’t be certain whether or not he would approve of this maneuver. Either he would be impressed by her machinations or he would resent her for going around him.

That left Lord Lochan, who had remained silent throughout the deliberations. She wasn’t certain of his decision, either. She could only pray.

An unexpectedly high-pitched voice interrupted her thoughts. “I don’t see why we should impede Aelin any further. We will still be around as counsel, and I believe I serve as proof that a woman can rule without a husband.”

Aelin turned to the speaker and shock overtook her.

~*~*~

Aedion paced in the hallway outside the audience chamber, hand gripping the hilt of his sword tightly as he walked. There was nothing further he could do. While he was a successful military leader and his word might have held sway on a matter regarding the troops alone, he had no title or lands in Terrasen and he could not have any decision on the matter of Aelin’s right to rule.

He wondered if Aelin felt equally powerless, with her fate in the hands of the lords and only her words to guide them.

No, surely Aelin was actively plying every charm she had available to her. She wasn’t locked out of the room while they deliberated, as he was. While the final decision would not be her own, she still had some degree of power.

A noise broke the silence behind him and he whirled around, sword half drawn before he recognized the person who stood before him. “Nervous?” Lysandra chuckled.

“Are you not?” Aedion sighed as he did his best to relax. “I don’t think I’ve felt so powerless in years. The last time was after the first time you told me off for… how did you put it, exactly, ‘territorial male bullshit’?”

“Aelin helped with the phrasing,” Lysandra admitted.

He snorted. “That much was obvious. It’s a fight we’ve had for years now.”

She leaned against his side, humming softly. “She’ll be fine, you know. Evangeline’s been working on Darrow from the moment we arrived, and you know his vote holds the most sway.”

“Has she, now?” He tugged playfully on one of her chestnut curls. “I can’t imagine who she learned that from.”

“Well, it most certainly wasn’t you. To be blunt, I’m amazed you haven’t drawn that sword and rushed into the room already.”

So was he, but she didn’t need to know that. Instead, he turned to properly embrace her. “And to think I was about to tell you how much I missed you,” he teased.

“Here in this hallway? Where anyone could find us? How scandalous.”

As Lysandra laughed, Aedion felt his ears grow warm. “As much as I’m certain at least one courtier would enjoy the show, I’d rather save that part of it for later.”

“Well, that’s a good thing. I couldn’t stop someone else from coming down to see you as well, since you arrived after her bedtime.”

Aedion turned just in time to see Evangeline flying down the hall, golden locks streaming behind her as she approached him at a full sprint. He bent his knees just enough that he wouldn’t be knocked over by the impact and caught her gently around the waist, something in his chest tightening at the way she wrapped her arms around him. “I missed you too, Evangeline,” he assured her. “But Lysandra tells me you’ve been keeping busy while I was away.”

She nodded and smiled. “I’ve been helping Regent Darrow. I deliver messages. Sometimes I write them too, but I’m not good at that yet.”

“I’m sure you’ve been very helpful,” he replied. “And I’m glad to see you’ve been doing well.”

“You’re back to stay now?” Citrine eyes dark with suspicion glanced up at him. “You’re not leaving again?”

He sighed. “I can’t promise I’ll never have to leave,” he cautioned her. “But I’ll always do my best to come back home as quickly as possible. And I don’t have to leave anytime soon.”

She nodded, hugging him once more before taking up a position behind Lysandra. Lysandra let a hand rest on the girl’s shoulder and glanced up at him. “So now we wait?”

Aedion nodded, one hand lifting to card through his own hair. “Now we wait. There’s nothing else we can do.”

He supposed it was a good sign that the audience chamber was so silent. If no one had raised their voice, it was likely that Aelin hadn’t set anything on fire either, and that was possibly the worst thing she could do at this point. Rowan had trained her well, certainly, but not even years of intensive training would manage to wipe away the bulk of Aelin’s temper and the male had only had a few short months to attempt the task.

On the other hand, it was entirely possible that the room was silent because Aelin had decided she preferred knives to fire. Aedion shivered as he considered the possibility.

Before he could ponder too much further, however, the doors opened and he immediately straightened, hand returning to the hilt of his sword. His cousin emerged from the room, shoulders drawn in close and looking down at the floor. She was obviously exhausted, but neither her posture nor the soft conversation still ongoing in the room behind her provided him with any indication as to how the meeting had gone.

He rushed to meet her as she allowed the doors to swing shut behind her and took a deep breath. “How did it go?”

“I was unaware that Lord Lochan had died while we were in Doranelle,” she replied. “I know you probably didn’t know either, but it would’ve been nice to avoid looking like an idiot in front of the lords.”

Aedion grimaced. “Did it truly go that poorly? What did they say?”

Aelin finally looked up at him, eyes gleaming. “His daughter inherited his position, and did a great deal to argue our case.”

“Little Elide is Lord of Perranth now?” he spluttered.

“Lady, technically, and she’ll pretend not to hear you if you address her otherwise in a formal capacity.” His cousin grinned. “I might need to adopt that tactic myself.”

He wasn’t quite certain how he managed to avoid his knees buckling in relief. “Then it is done?”

“I’m afraid not,” she replied. “You’re about to have a great deal of planning thrust upon you.”

Aedion frowned. “Planning? Whatever for?” Gods, if the lords had renewed their case for a marriage between himself and his cousin… well, he would do it if she asked it of him, but she might also kill him so it would remain an impossibility.

Aelin laughed. “So serious. For my coronation, of course.”

“Your coronation?” Lysandra asked from somewhere behind him, and he was grateful she had done so for he found himself suddenly unable to speak.

“Yes. You’re looking at the next Queen of Terrasen, and the lords have officially approved of my ascent to the throne.”

Aedion hugged his cousin tightly, not missing the triumphant gleam in her eyes. Now that this moment was finally here, he wasn’t sure why he had ever doubted her ability to sway them. After all, it only took one glance at her now to see the queen that she was.

Perhaps the lords had finally seen it, too.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows @thegoddessofyou @mymultiversee @swankii-art-teacher @rowansfirebringer @rabodocardan - having a hard time tagging you! Not sure what broke on tumblr this time lol @courtofjurdan @danibutterr

#haven writes #rules of engagement #rowaelin

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obaby-me · 5 years ago

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Hello! I've only seen your blog yesterday, but I love your writing! Can I please have some headcannons on how you think the demon bros + diavolo, barbatos, simeon are shaped down there (girth/size, curve, cut/not, veins etc?)

Glad you do, anon! Regarding the sizes in these headcanons: I ain’t doing math. Numbers will not be included. You’re just gonna have to live with comparisons to ‘averages’ of whatever you believe demons average sizes to be. And because I’m a firm believer that the size of the boat isn’t everything, I’m adding in some content regarding their motions for your ocean. Hope you enjoy.

Lucifer

An upward curve makes Lucifer the perfect advantage for watching your face as you unravel beneath him. He’s of above average length, with a larger cut head than his smooth shaft, and an average girth. Lucifer’s not a fan of quickies. He’s a perfectionist in all things and that includes your pleasure. He needs to take his time and be sure that by the end of it, you’re certain you’re in heaven itself. He likes to thrust roughly, but pulls out slowly— a pace that keeps you teetering on the edge of your senses. He wants you to beg him to go faster, he wants to watch you breakdown before he gives you what you need. He likes to make a round last quite awhile, and he can go about two rounds or three rounds with a pretty long refractory period in between. That suits him just fine however, that means he can get you down from your high to start making you climb all over again. Once you get him started, you’re in for a long night.

Mammon

Mammon’s rather proud of his cock and his skills. He has an upward curve with an above average girth and an average length. It’s smooth, cut, with an even head and shaft. With Mammon, it’s all about his mood that determines what you’ll get out of him. If he’s feeling confident, he likes to play with positions, most of which where he can see your face. It strokes his ego when he can see watch your pleasured expression and knowing he gave that to you. If he’s feeling self conscious, he prefers any position where he can bury his face into you so you can’t see as he comes undone. He’s an impatient sort and so if you want a little more foreplay, you’re going to have to take the reins. He likes to go at a quick pace, making for bursts of rough rounds, and he’s quick to get back to another round to play. Over-stimulation for both you and himself is something he simply can’t get enough of—and you’ll have to be the one to call it since he’s got the stamina to keep it up all night.

Leviathan

Levi hasn’t had much experience, and he’s not confident about either his appearance, so he’s very self conscious, especially regarding his skills—but neither are too shabby. His cock’s without curve, with a wider base than head, and an average girth with an average length. He’s cut, with veins which adds just that little bit of extra stimulation. He’s very vanilla and enjoys missionary and prefers being ridden more than anything. The more control you have, the less he has to worry about. If he sets the pace, it’s always a gentle start. You’ll have to build up his confidence to get more than that. Ask him to include his tail. He’s been dying to try out a thing or two he’s seen in his hentai collections, but he’ll never have the guts to ask.

Satan

He was made to do you doggy style. With a downward curve, he can hit your sweet spots perfectly in this position. He’s average in length with a larger cut head than the smooth base; and an average girth. He’s a gentle lover at the start, including a lot of foreplay into the mix. But it’s all for preparing you for the main event. He’s ruthless when he pounds into you, going fast and hard—enough to jolt your body forward as he grips your hips to yank you back into place. Hope you have something to hold on to. Once he’s at this point, it’s pretty quick to be on its way to over. Probably for the best considering how rough he is. His refractory period’s a little on the long side, but he can another round or two easy. The time in between just means he gets to tease you until you’re ready for the next round. Keep in mind that the longer he goes, the less control he has on himself and the more savage he’ll be.

Asmodeus

The master lover, he knows just about every position by which to experiment with you. He’s got an average length, with a below average girth, but a large cut head on a smooth shaft. He’s got a c-curve, with all the knowledge of the best ways to use it. Fun fact: it’s pierced. Despite his looks, Asmo’s surprisingly strong—demons are just like that— and he knows just how to contort you even if you haven’t the muscle strength to do so yourself. He likes to make use of toys in the bedroom as well, for the maximum effect of hitting every erogenous zone he can at the same time. He’s incredibly flexible himself, and that’s not just literally. You want something quick between classes, and he’s happy to provide. If you had a long exhausting day, he can give you some gentle love-making. And when you’re really in the mood to just get as fucked out as you can, he knows just the thing.

Beelzebub

All this body building has given Beel that extra bit of extra stimulation to add to your pleasure in the form of a veiny cock. He’s got a straight cock, with a head and shaft of equal width, above average in girth with an above average length. He’s uncut, something which embarrasses him slightly, though he has no reason to be. He’s big on foreplay, specifically oral forplay for both you and himself, and he could do it for hours if you’d let him. He lasts quite awhile, and will switch up various positions to keep things exciting for you. He likes any position where he can basically bounce you himself—he’s got a bit of kink for making good use of his muscles. He tries to be gentle, and keeps a slow pace, but the closer he gets to his end, the more he tends to pound into you. He can go quite a few rounds, and his refractory period’s quite quick. It’s really a matter of your stamina—not his.

Belphegor

The twins share more than their eye color and height. Belphie’s above average in girth, with an above average length. The head of his cock and shaft are straight, with a head and shaft of equal width. He’s smooth and uncut—which he is quite comfortable with comparatively to his brother. Sex with him is incredibly really draw it out. Foreplay is absolute must for him to really get going, therefore quickies are never an option. His favorite positions unsurprisingly involve you riding him or laying down. He knows the best way to rub your sweet spots involve you facing away from him, and that’s much to his delight because he loves an ass. Once he’s finished, he tends to go right to sleep, essentially, it’s really only one round. But what a round. While the refractory period’s essentially an entire nap, he definitely wants you again when he wakes up. That is to say, he wants you all the time. If you could and if you’d let him, you’d live your life sleeping and fucking. You’re going to have to learn to tell him no.

Diavolo

The next king of the Devildom has royal jewels to be proud of. Above average girth, above average length, with veins for full course stimulation meal. He’s got a cut head, larger than his shaft’s width. Despite the man’s impressive size, he’s not actually had much sex experience. He’s the next king to be and he can’t have accidental heirs running around. Due to this lack of experience, he’s quite experimental, and likes to try multiple positions per session until he finds one he really likes. He tends to go a little slower, with deep sensual thrusts, mostly due to his size—he’s quite concerned he may hurt you otherwise if he really lets himself go. But you give him the word and he’s more than happy to shift gears into something more primal. You will need to agree upon a way to tell him to stop outside of using your voice—you’ll be too busy fighting to intake air as he pounds it right out of you. He has stamina that could have him going for hours and a refractory period that’s quite short. You won’t have much of a breather between the rounds causing guaranteed over-stimulation, which Diavolo is very much into. He’s a demon’s demon, through and through.

Barbatos

Barbatos has a smooth c-shape curve, and he knows how to rock it. He has an average girth and length with a base equal around to its uncut head. As a busy man on the go, constantly at his lord’s beck and call, quick rendezvous are majority of your sexcapades. He really likes to hit you at angles— one leg over his shoulder; sideways; on the ground with a leg knelt down while ther lay flat—and he really enjoys holding you in place to do so. He makes good use of his tail to either tie your legs tight, or keep them spread. He’s quick but shallow in his thrusts, only going deeper the closer to the end you get. You only generally can get one round in before he goes, but he’ll make it all up to you once he has time off to do so—slow but rough thrusts, a polar opposite to what he gives you when time is so limited.

Simeon

Longer than average length with a below average girth, Simeon’s more of deep diver than a filler. He’s uncut with a large head to base ratio with a light upward curve, and he’s smooth as silk. He’s a gentle sort, who enjoys lots of soft kisses while thrusting at a slow sensual pace. He likes holding hands or if he must keep his hands busy for the position, he wants to look you in the eyes. With Simeon, it’s always love-making, not sex. Quickies don’t exist for him—foreplay and plenty of it is important to him. He wants to worship you before he joins with you, and then he’ll take his time relishing in that. Requests for faster or harder will only make him chuckle as he puts his fingers to use in riling you up in other ways. His favorite positions are any that either keeps your legs tight together so he can best rub against your walls or where he can kiss you. He can only really do the one round, but he makes the most of it.

#obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #headcanon #no pun intended but this was so hard for me #i know very little about the details of cocks #i've just never really thought about it #i'm just the type of hoe that goes #cock?#yes i'll have some thanks

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penguintransporter · 4 years ago

Text

Winning The Game Called Love (Hector Bellerin) Part VIII

Hello, everyone! It took me a while to post this, but fear not - I have another chapter edited and ready to update next weekend. I contemplated for the longest time if I should post continuation of the chapter VII or maybe write a flashback that is entirely in Héctor’s POV, and decided that some of his thoughts wouldn’t be bad - so consider this as a filler even if it’s an entire update. Enjoy, let me know what you think, and don’t shy away from my inbox. You can read the first seven chapters of the story - here - along with the rest of my stuff. Lots of love, and stay amazing as always!

There was rarely a moment in which the canteen of the Arsenal FC Training Centre didn’t feel like a mini circus of some sort.

Buzzing with noise at any given time of the day, the spacious and with the long tables packed room often hosted a diverse bunch of people of different backgrounds and nationalities, ages and paychecks, contracts and positions in the club – all of them taking a refuge from their daily routines. More than often, administration hermits, trying to escape their paper-stacked offices mingled with millions of pounds worth footballers who needed their fuel before or after their training sessions, and all the high-positioned officials in their suits were known to chat away their coffee breaks with the wonderful Simone behind the canteen till.

Still, on that Friday noon, as the world was waist-deep in the month of December, the entire room felt just a little bit quieter than usual.

As he sat alone at one of the long tables, waiting for his teammates to join him for lunch, Héctor wondered if the certain quietness was caused by the miserable weather outside or just because the feeling of yet another year slipping away was weighing down on people’s minds – including his own.

With a shake of his head, Héctor scooped some of the food on his fork before setting down his knife on a plate in front of him, looking at the windows that span along the wall to his left – the abundance of greyness greeting him. One would think that after all the years since he’s moved to England and started calling London his home, he would have gotten used on the picture in front of his eyes, but he wasn’t, and he knew that he won’t ever be.

Looking away, Héctor pursed his lips as he lazily chewed on his mouthful before glancing at the time on his phone as he reached for his knife to scoop more food, but he couldn’t help but freeze in his movements – the familiar scent filling his nostrils.

Oranges?

Confused, Héctor swallowed before leaning back in his chair as he felt the air leaving his lungs.

It wasn’t as if the oranges were something he rarely had the chance to smell, but only a handful of times the particular scent could make him feel the way he did as he apprehensively breathed in – memories of his childhood breaking out on the surface of his mind.

Warm, hot late autumns. His hand firmly held by his grandmother’s as they walked along the less-known pueblos where the oranges on the trees, bent by the their own weight, were just a reach of a hand away.

Héctor let his eyes wander as discreetly as possible around the canteen, trying to find the source of the smell that brought back the picture of the little Belle and the sight of the oranges laying along the sides of the pathways – their sweetness and stickiness an invitation for a feast for all the ants and flies.

Skinny, little boy in a sailor-striped t-shirt; thin-soled tennis shoes slippery on the cobbled slope; smell of home-cooked paella in the air.

She.

The irritating girl from the reception sat at the end of one of the long tables in the corner along with some other employees whose faces Héctor vaguely recognised, but despite it, it seemed as if she didn’t belong the rowdy bunch of five men. She seemed to be in her own little headspace, quietly looking at the round fruit she held in her hands – eyebrows slightly narrowed in a thought.

The white collar of a button down played a peek-a-boo from underneath the scruffy navy-coloured jumper she was wearing, hair tucked behind her ears and away from her face, and a pair of beaten-up shoes on her feet – she looked out of the place among the sea of red tracksuits and football kits. Héctor watched her drop the orange to her lap before looking at her phone, grinning at something, and without even realising, his leg started to bounce ever so slightly.

She’s probably dating someone equally irritating as she was.

Realising that he was staring, Héctor looked away quickly, sucking a deep breath before running both of his hands through his hair, pausing for a moment – his fingers interlacing behind his neck. He wasn’t sure what it was that has possessed him, and God knows, he didn’t want to do it in the first place, but he did it anyway. Glancing back at her again, he observed her as she dug her nails into the skin of the orange – nose scrunching a little when the aromatic juice sprayed against her face.

He could almost feel it too—

¡Joder!

Héctor’s head snapped quickly in front of him, rubbing his face in frustration before looking at the doors of the lunch-room, hoping to see someone who could distract him from looking towards the one person he didn’t want to spend his time on.

A feeling of relief washed over him as he saw Calum walk inside the canteen, giving a quick wave to Simone before picking up a plate to serve himself from the large containers that were neatly arranged along the till. Héctor’s eyes followed his teammate, waiting for the tall guy to look in his direction so he could wave him over.

He hated how jittery he was beginning to feel, so when his teammate scanned the room for a free seat, Héctor quickly raised his hand, ignoring the feeling in the very pit of his stomach that he couldn’t comprehend.

Jesus Christ!

“What you’ve got there?” Calum asked with a grin, and Héctor returned the smile, but for some reason, it didn’t quite feel right. His teammate slid in the chair next to him, peering at Héctor’s plate, “Beans? Really? Have you not seen all the food out there, Héc?” he grinned, pulling the sleeves of his tracksuit jacket up to his elbows, ready to dig into his food.

“What’s wrong with my beans?” Héctor asked, smiling a little as he took another forkful of his lunch, just in time to see Rob and Alexandre, walk in, quickly serving themselves with the food before walking over to where Héctor and Calum sat. Héctor looked back at Calum, waving his fork in his mate’s direction as he continued to talk, “It’s healthy, makes me run faster than you, and honestly mate,” Héctor stopped to take a sip of water, “it looks better than your chicken.”

“Chicken again, I see,” Rob commented passively without a greeting as he sat down opposite Héctor – long legs trying to find space under the table. Alexandre followed shortly, balancing more food than the plate could actually hold in one hand, while typing on his phone with other. He nodded, sitting down – his eyes never leaving the shiny screen.

“One day he’ll turn into a chicken,” Héctor joked before glancing at Calum from the corner of his eye while chasing the white bean covered in the tomato sauce around his plate.

His mate let out a small chuckle, carefully taking a bite of the grilled poultry in his mouth, “You say that now, but you’d become a carnivore again for a chicken like me, Heccy.”

“What did you just say?” Alexandre asked, looking up from his phone with a grin, “Héctor, my friend, I beg you, stay vegan. He’s not worth it…” he trailed off before the four men started laughing, earning an amused and curious smile from Simone who passed by their table, and dirty look from one of the elder officials who tried to focus on whatever he was doing on his iPad. “Anyway,” Alexandre started as they calmed down a little, setting his phone away and grabbing the fork only to stab chunks of steamed carrots and broccoli, looking up at his teammates, “do we know who’s going to be David’s date for the charity party? Rumours say he’s single again.”

“Do we care?” Rob asked, grinning to himself as he still tried to find a comfortable position for his legs.

“Why yes,” Alexandre responded, earning a lifted eyebrow from Héctor in return, “my bet is Claudia or even, what’s her name, the tall blonde that’s always running around in the physio room.”

“Eveline?” Rob curiously asked, unscrewing the cap of his water bottle with ease to take a sip, “I think she’s married, but yeah, then definitely Claudia, that’s if the boss let’s him ask her out.”

Calum shook his head swiftly before glancing towards his right for a second, “I think he’ll make a move on our pretty, little sunshine called Aida,” he commented, nudging Héctor under the table.

“Why are you nudging me?” Héctor asked with a laugh, setting his cutlery down as he decided to join in the conversation. “Am I missing the joke? Who’s Aida?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, all three of his teammates looked at him – amusing smirks on their faces, and as Héctor was the one to buy on the paranoia feeling that washed over him, he’d say that the entire room was looking his way as well. Deciding that his best bet was to ignore their questioning stares, Héctor shrugged before breaking the piece of his bread and running it along the lip of his plate – picking up the leftover sauce.

“Are you taking the piss now?” Rob asked, genuinely interested now in the course of their conversation as he smirked, leaning forward, and Héctor shook his head, sticking the piece of the soaked bread into his mouth.

“Why would I?” he asked – feeling as if he was missing on some important joke, “I don’t know if this idiot’s nudge was supposed to tell me something,” he added before grinning at Calum, and just as he was about to add something else, the sound of a chair scraping loudly against the linoleum floor interrupted him. Simultaneously, they all looked up and in the direction of the screeching sound where the receptionist girl was smiling apologetically towards no one in particular.

Héctor felt the knot in his stomach rise up to his throat, but he swallowed it quickly back as he, along with his mates, watched the petite girl with the messy hair scoop the orange peels in her palm, while balancing a dark-green water bottle under one arm and a lilac notebook between her lips.

The Arsenal’s right-back looked down at his plate – piled vegetables and grains staring back at him before clenching his jaw in annoyance. He could vaguely hear a commotion and Simone’s laugh, not caring about what Calum had yelled in her direction, and caring even less about what she had responded before laughing that loud, but nonetheless contagious sound.

“Since you’re wondering,” Alexandre grinned, sticking another carrot into his mouth when Héctor looked up at the Frenchman, “that’s Aida.”

“—honestly, I think she’s actually nice to have around. Quite funny,” Rob responded to whatever Calum had said as he wiped the beads of sweat off of his face before leaning forward on his stationary bike.

Next to them, Héctor wanted to groan out loud like a teenager would when being interrogated by his mother about his whereabouts.

He wasn’t sure nor could he pinpoint the exact moment when the name of the receptionist girl was dropped again in their conversation, but there it was – levitating around them as he shared the corner with the treadmills and stationary bikes with Rob, Calum and Leno – the German lad being his usual reserved self.

Héctor knew very well that there was no real need for them to talk about her, but the grins that his teammates were giving him were a proof enough for him to know that they were doing it on purpose.

Hate was a strong word, but he couldn’t say that he enjoyed it either. Not after he was already—

Focus.

Instead of giving in on his teammate’s banter, Héctor rather focused on the sound of his trainers hitting against the treadmill’s moving belt.

“She’s also babysitting Auba’s son sometimes, no?” Bernd mumbled, smiling his tight-lipped smile.

Calum chuckled at the tall goalie next to him, “I know many lads that would love to be babysat by her.”

Despite wanting to keep his mouth shut, Héctor couldn’t hold back the snort as he lowered the speed on the treadmill, while monitoring his heart-rate.

“I just don’t understand why—,” Héctor started, but quickly stopped himself, “never-mind.”

“What? You wouldn’t?” Calum asked, looking at him. “I am sure she’d love to babysit you if you only let her,” he added teasingly, and as much as he hated himself for doing it, he actually wanted to laugh at his bad joke.

“WHO WOULDN’T WANT WHAT?” David boomed from where he was jogging towards them – wild hair tied up in a ridiculous palm-resembling-something on top of his head. Joining them, he leaned casually against the side of Héctor’s treadmill.

With a curious smile, David glanced between the group of men before his eyes settled on a Calum who was still looking at Héctor with a smirk.

“Heccy doesn’t fancy Aida,” he answered matter-of-factly before wiping some of the sweat off of his face with his jersey. Next to him, Rob rolled with his eyes before reaching out his towel which Calum refused with a shake of his head.

Their Brazilian teammate had an amused yet shocked look on his face as he looked at Héctor with a silly grin. “What? Really? Everyone fancies her!”

“Exactly our point,” Rob interjected and it was Héctor’s turn to roll with his eyes, “but apparently, Héctor here doesn’t.”

“You do know that I am still here?” Héctor asked, forcing a grin which only earned him a handful of playful looks from his teammates. “Besides, I have every right in the world to not fancy someone.”

“But you do like brunettes, no?” Calum asked as he started to run again, and for once Héctor wanted to be outside, in the freezing cold, preferably running next to someone who didn’t ask such stupid questions or was usually consumed by their own thoughts – Sead maybe. “—okay, maybe she’s not all legs or whatnot, but still, sometimes the compact ones are the best…”

Hoping off of the treadmill, Héctor grabbed a towel that rested on one of the chairs in the corner, refusing to hear the rest of Calum’s statement or to give in into the banter.

“You really need to find a hobby,” he grinned after wiping his face before leaving his teammates and making his way towards the other end of the room that was reserved for heavy-weights and strength training.

Standing there alone and tying his hair in a ponytail, he glanced through the windows to his right, and as if it was a force of something above, the receptionist girl walked past – steps quick as she wrapped her scarf around her neck, shielding the lower part of her face from the harsh wind.

Héctor shook his head as he looked down at his trainers before glancing back up, only to catch a glimpse of her silhouette disappearing around the corner – the soft scent of oranges returning to haunt him for a split of a second.

What if...

No.

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rametarin · 4 years ago

Text

Getting into the weeds of an annoying conversation I’ve had.

Casually speaking to people that believe, very strongly, very hopefully, in life-after-meat bodies. And I don’t mean dietary, I mean, “escaping death by going cyborg.”

A lot of people wish to move their, “sentience,” out of their biological bodies and into a machine, because they do not want to die. Just, whatever it is that comprises their life, their existence, their essence, their metaphoric “soul,” they want to move it out of a vulnerable, mortal meat puppet and into an immortal machine. So as to avoid non-existence, entropy and death, if only long enough to witness the heat death of the universe.

And they get REALLY mad or huffy when you poke holes in their preferred method of immortality.

So they bring up the Ship of Theseus. “If you replace all the parts of a ship, is it even still the same ship anymore? :)” And argue that even you aren’t the you of 7-10 years ago. Owing to your sort tissue constantly replacing and replenishing itself, removing old cells, replacing them piecemeal.

So, they argue, based on that, slowly replacing a human brain little by little with cybernetics, or grey goo filler, should (to their logic) mean it’s possible to continue to exist, just slowly transfer from from a meat based consciousness and existence into a mechanical one.

And again, I argue, that’s not incorporating YOU into a robotic shell. That’s supplementing an existing body with an artificial one that is subserviant to your meat body, you. One that just is convinced, more and more, that it is you.

It would be you the same way that an alien devouring your brain from the inside and slowly replacing your brain with itself becomes, “you.” You can smugly smile and go, “well it has all my memories. It has my fingerprints. It lives in my body. It thinks and says it’s me. Therefore, it must be me.”

Except, no. YOU would be dead and your life and sapience, your existence, hollowed out and replaced by another just inheriting your body. An artificial life that is not part of the original biological blueprints of you.

Arguing that that’s somehow “transferring” your consciousness simply because our soft tissue regenerates and replaces itself, therefore, “we died within 8 years after we were born” is dishonest. As a biological organism, we exist as sovereign independent beings that are designed to do that, by natural selection. Our mortal bodies were designed to replenish and replace and maintain that through the generations of cell generation, death and replacement. So even if we do technically lose consciousness and whom we are die inside to be replaced with more of us, it’s still us. Objectively.

When you add artificial elements to that, like switching out dead braincells and brain wiring until the artificial and the natural are meshed up and virtually inoperable from one another, you aren’t making yourself into a robot. You’re just dying and supplementing what you’ve lost on a wetware, hardware and software level with mechanical stuff. You’re incubating a simulacrum in your brain, like athena from the head of Zeus.

Even if you were just a collection of the longest living cells in your body with a robotic brain wrapped around them, after a certain point, you just stop being you. At best you can argue where the line is between ceasing to be you.

I’d argue that you cannot store memory artificially about whom and what you are and take that function away from your biological brain, and still consider yourself you. The brain has many functions, and all of them are components of the real you. To even replace one of those wholesale with cybernetics is to lose some of your humanity. There will never be a time when you can just piecemeal replace your neurons and braincells wholesale with a robot and continue to exist.

That won’t be you anymore. It’ll just be the slow, inevitable march towards a robot that THINKS it’s you. It’ll be a copy born from a glacial suicide. You may as well have just scanned your brain’s patterns and structure and reproduced it by every nerve ending, memory and some sort of perfect sci-fi brain scan into a simulated consciousness in a robot.

The robot won’t be YOU, it’ll be a robot with a simulacrum of you. The same way a painting is not you. The same way your ass print in the snow, is not you. Just a sophisticated shadow of you.

Folks that dream of escaping death by transferring, “consciousness” out of their body and into a robot absolutely despise this line of thinking. They really tend to not want to die. So, they argue to defend it with resorting to misanthropy. “Life is just a series of amino acids and cells!” They tell themselves. “So it doesn’t matter if the thing that thinks it’s me, is actually biological! My biology doesn’t matter on whether I’m me!”

And it’s like. Bruh. Even if you cloned yourself, and to all human relevant metrics that clone could operate as you, it wouldn’t be you. Because you are still a sovereign and independent organism. That clone, not born from your mother, but a vat as a clipping of you allowed and shaped to become like you, does not have the same origin as you. Yes, it absolutely does matter, objectively, that the clone, while it possesses a large amount of your DNA, is still not YOU. You may be arguing that, “well science and other people can’t tell. :^).” That does not change the objective reality that it is not you.

The more they defend this braindead fantasy of going from human body to a robot, the more they betray what they’re willing to believe about what being a human is and is not in order to abandon it. The more they schizophrenically divorce their biology from what and whom they are, as people, as human beings.

And when you get to the point where you ask, “Oh what is sapience and sentience and individualism, anyway?” Then that says to me you don’t care about anything. You’re just cowardly enough to not want to die. You’re just too stubborn and arrogant and egotistical to admit if you weren’t so convinced you had the intellectual and rational high ground, you’d be exactly like one of those braying sheep singing hymns in your religion of choice, praying that god or the universe itself won’t erase you from existence when you finally succumb to mortality. You damned self-deceiving coward. You self-delusional ninny. Milksop.

And this just absolutely matters, because this revelation of their value of human life, individuality and their own perception of what it means to be human, directly correlates into what they value when it comes to groups of humans relating to one another. Someone like that may speak high and mighty about humanity, compassion, but these are just egotist words and come purely from a place of faux-rational pride that they know the truth.

When the truth is, they pray at the altar of an idealized abstract, and not the reality of what a human is and does and is made of. They value the idea of all these little soulless meat robots working together as a sophisticated collective than they do the life of a single human being, seeing soul only in the net and gross, and not in the individuals or parts comprising it.

They’ll speak at length about “what people SHOULD” or “OUGHT” be doing for other people, while not giving a fuck about an individual. All their concepts of rights and privileges stem from the ideas of plurality, on the basis of being part of that set. Not based on individuals.

And after having had these conversations enough with the sorts of futurists, utopists, transhumanists, I feel confident in saying that if you also feel this way, I probably hate you. Seeing individual people as arbitrary random atoms floating around in space and time but seeing humanity, worth and relatable in groups of them? In the CONCEPT but then devaluing it by saying there’s no “real” individiaulsim that can’t be cloned, or reproduced, and be the exact same as what exists? Somehow you try to insist you see things in the macro and the minutia when you’re completely missing both and focusing on what you project onto them or what you THINK you see based on your own biases. Often based on the HOPE and idealism of what you think SHOULD be real, or what you HOPE humans become.

So the sort of person to pray for robotic physical immortality and “ascending” past the flesh, tends to just.. flow into the sort of person that loves the idea of humanity, but despises any human being that is not on board with their idealized vision of what humanity should be, and will not tolerate people that are not on board with it.

This has become a bit of an acid test for me. Maybe it’s just on the same shitty level as asking a persons horoscope to learn more about them. I don’t know. But if you think a clone of you is equally YOU, if you think a scanned reproduction of you is the equal you to the real thing, just because of the difficulty of proving the objective truth and origins of both to third parties, then you’re probably the same sort of used car salesman type that tries to sell people on “social advancement” while not giving a shit how many people it harms or how much humanity it kills in the name of said, “advancement,” or “evolution.”

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