#how good is article forge

[mashkaroom]

Translation thoughts on the greatest poem of our time, “His wife has filled his house with chintz. To keep it real I fuck him on the floor”

It’s actually quite tricky to translate. Because it’s so short, each word and grammatical construction is carrying a lot of weight. It also, as people have noted, plays with registers. “Chintz” is a word with its own set of associations. Chintz is a type of fabric with its origins in India. The disparaging connotation is from chintz’s eventual commonality. Chintz was actually banned from England and France because the local textile mills couldn’t compete.

Keep it real” is tremendously difficult to translate -- it’s a bit difficult to even define. It means to be authentic and genuine, but it also has connotations of staying true to one’s roots. Like many English slang words, it comes first from AAVE. From this article on the phrase:

“[K]eeping it real meant performing an individual’s experience of being Black in the United States. As such, it became a form of resistance. Insisting on a different reality, one that wasn’t recognized by the dominant culture, empowered Black people to ‘forge a parallel system of meaning,’ according to cultural critic Mich Nyawalo...The phrase’s roots in racialized resistance, however, were erased when it was adopted by the mostly-White film world of the 1970s and ’80s....Keeping it real in this context indicated a performance done so well that audiences could forget it was a performance.This version of keeping it real wasn’t about testifying to personal experience; it was about inventing it.”

One has to imagine that jjbang8 did not have the origins of these phrases in mind when composing the poem, but even if by coincidence, the etymological and cultural journeys of these two central lexemes perfectly reflect the themes of the poem. The two words have themselves traveled away from the authenticity they once represented, and, in a new context, have taken on new meanings -- the hero of our poem, the unnamed “him”, is, presumably, in quite a similar situation.

Setting aside the question of register, of the phonology, prosody, and meter of the original, of the information that is transmitted through bits of grammar that don’t necessarily exist in other languages -- a gifted translator might be able to account for all of these -- how do you translate the journey of the words themselves?

In my translations, I decided to go for the most evocative words, even if they don’t evoke the exact same things as in the original. The strength of these two lines is that they imply that there’s more than just what you see, whether that’s the details of the story -- what’s happening in the marriage? how do the narrator and the husband know each other? -- or the cultural background of the very words themselves. I wanted to try and replicate this effect.

Yiddish first:

זייַן ווייַב האָט אָנגעפֿילט זייַן הויז מיט הבלים

צו בלייַבן וויטיש, איך שטוף אים אופֿן דיל. zayn vayb hot ongefilt zayn hoyz mit havolim.

tsu blaybn vitish, ikh shtup im afn dil

This translation is pretty direct. There is a word for chintz in Yiddish -- tsits -- but, as far as I can tell, it refers only to the fabric; it doesn’t have the same derogatory connotation as in English. I chose, instead, havolim, a loshn-koydesh word that means “vanity, nothingness, nonsense, trifles”. In Hebrew, it can also mean breath or vapor. I chose this over the other competitors because it, too, is a word with a journey and with a secondary meaning. Rather than imagining the bright prints of chintz, we might imagine a more olfactory implication -- his wife has filled his house with perfumes or cleaning fluids. It can carry the implication that something is being masked as well as the associations with vanity and gaudiness.

Vitish -- Okay, this is a good one. Keep in mind, of course, that I’ve never heard or seen it used before today, so my understanding of its nuances is very limited, but I’ll explain to you exactly how I am sourcing its meaning. The Comprehensive Yiddish-English Dictionary (CYED) gives this as “gone astray (esp. woman); slang correct, honest”. I used the Yiddish Book Center’s optical character recognition software, which allows you to search for strings in their corpus, to confirm that both usages are, in fact, attested. It’s a pretty rare word in text, though, as the CYED implies, it might have been more common in spoken speech. It appears in a glossary in “Bay unds yuden” (Among Us Jews) as a thieves cant word, where it’s definted as נאַריש, שרעקעוודיק, אונבעהאלפ. אויך נישט גנביש. אין דער דייַטשער גאַונער-שפראַך --  witsch -- נאַריש, or “foolish, terrible, clumsy/pathetic. not of the thieves world. in the German thieves cant witsch means foolish”. A vitishe nekeyve (vitishe woman) is either a slacker or a prostitute. I can’t prove this for sure, but my sense is that it might come from the same root as vitz, joke (it’s used a couple of times in the corpus to mention laughing at a vitish remark -- which makes it seem kind of similar to witty). I assume the German thieve’s cant that’s being referred to is Rotwelsch, which has its own fascinating history and, in fact, incorporates a lot of Yiddish. In fact, for this reason, some of the first Yiddish linguists were actually criminologists! What an excellent set of associations, no? It has the slangy sense of straightforward of honest; it has a sense of sexual non-normativity (we might use it to read into the relationship between the narrator and the husband) -- and a feminized one at that; it was used by an underground subculture, and, again, the meaning there was quite different -- like the “real” in “keeping it real” it was used to indicate whether or not someone was “in” on the life (tho “real” is used to mean that the person is in, while “vitish” is used to mean they’re not). It’s variety of meanings are more ambiguous than “keep it real”, which can pretty much only be read positively, and it also brings in a tinge of criminality. Though it doesn’t have the same exact connotations as “keep it real”, I think it’s about as ideal of a fit as we’ll get because it’s equally evocative of more below the surface. I also chose “tsu blaybn vitish”, which is “to stay vitish”, as opposed to something like “to make it vitish” to keep the slight ambiguity of time that “keep it real” has -- keeping it real does< I think, imply that there is a pre-existing “real” to which one can adhere, so I wanted to imply the same.

The rest is straight-forward. “Shtup” is one of a few words the Comprehensive English-Yiddish Dictionary (CEYD) gives for “fuck”, and I think it has a nice sound.

Ok, now Russian

женой твой дом наполнен финтифлюшками

чтоб не блудить с пути, ебемся на полу

zhenoy tvoy dom napolnin fintiflyushkami.

shtob ne bludit’ s puti’, yebyomsya na polu

In order to preserve, more or less, the iambic meter, I made a few more changes here -- since Russian, unlike Yiddish, is not a Germanic language, it’s harder to keep the same structure + word order while also maintaining the rhythm. I would translate this back to English as:

“Your house is filled with trifles by your wife. To not stray off the path, we’re fucking on the floor”

So a few notes before we get into the choice of words for “chintz” and “keep it real”. To preserve the iamb, I changed “his” to “your”. This changes the lines from a narration of events to some outside party to a conversation between the two men at the center. Russian also has both formal and informal you (formal you is also the plural form, as is the case in a number of other languages). I went with informal you because I wanted to preserve the fact that his wife has filled his house not their house, as someone pointed out in the original chain (though I don’t think that differentiation is nearly as striking in the 2nd person) and because it’s unlikely you’d be on formal you with someone you’re fucking (unless it’s, like, a kink thing). I honestly didn’t even consider making it formal, but that would actually raise a lot of interesting implications about the relationship between the speaker and the husband, as well as with what that means about the “realness” of the situation. Is, in fact, the narrator only creating a mirage of a more real, more meaningful encounter, while the actual truth -- that there is a woman the husband has made promises to that he’s betraying -- is obscured? that this intimacy is just a facade? Is there perhaps some sort of power differential that the narrator wishes to point out? Or perhaps is the way that the narrator is keeping it real by pointing out the distance between the two of them? there is no pretense of intimacy, the narrator is calling this what it is -- an encounter without deeper significance?

Much to think about, but I actually think the two men do have history --  i think the narrator remembers the house back when it was actually only “his house” and was as yet unfilled with chintz. We also don’t know what they were calling each other prior to this moment. This could be the first time they switched to the informal you. 

Ok moving on, I originally translated it as “твой дом наполнен финтифлюшками жены”. Honestly, this sounds more elegant than what I have now, but I ultimately though removing the wife from either a subject or agent position (grammatically, I mean) was too big a betrayal of the original. The original judges the wife. She took an active role in filling the house. If she were made passive, that read is certainly a possible one -- perhaps even the dominant one -- but it could also read more like “we are doing this in a space filled with reminders of his wife and the life they share” -- the action of filling is no longer what’s being focused on. Why do I say the current translation is inelegant? I feel you stumble over it a little, because it’s almost a garden path sentence. This is also an assset though. “Zhenoy tvoy dom napolnen” is a fully grammatical sentence on its own, and it means “Your house is filled by your wife” -- as in English, the primary read is that the wife is what the house is full of. If the sentence makes you stumble, perhaps that’s even good -- we focus, for good reason, on the relationship between the two men, but in a translation, the wife is able to draw more attention to herself.

Ok, chintz: I chose the word “финтифлюшки” (fintiflyushki), meaning trifle/bobble/tchotchke, because it, allegedly, comes from the german phrase finten und flausen, meaning illusions and vanity/nonsense. Once again, I like that the word has a journey, specifically a cross-linguistic one.

Keep it real: this one, frankly, fails to capture the impact of the original, in my opinion, but allow me to explain the reasoning. “Stray off the path” implies, again, that there is some sort of path that both the narrator and the husband were on before the wife and the chintz -- and one they intend to continue taking, one that this act is a maintenance of. It brings in a little irony, since the husband very much is straying from the path of his marriage. “Bludit’“ can also mean to be unfaithful in a marriage (as, in fact, can “stray”). The proto-slavic word it comes from can mean to delude or debauch -- they want to do the latter but not the former.

As for register -- “shtob” is a bit informal. I would write the full version (shto by) in an email, for example. The word for fuck, yebyomsa, is from one of the “mat” words, the extra special top tier of russian swears, definitely not to be said in polite company (and, if you are a man of a certain generation or background, not in front of women; it’s not that the use of mat automatically invokes a male-only environment, but if we’re already thinking that deeply about it. But while we’re on the topic, i will say that in my circles in the US, women use mat much more actively than men (at least in front of me, who was, up until recently, a woman and also a child).)

Ok i think that’s all the comments i have!

[writingquestionsanswered]

hiya! for writers who are complete beginners, kinda sorta maybe write at a high school level, can't describe to save their lives, have overall bad flow (as in they can't decide what little moments scenes to think up and even write, if they do, they're no good), have been told countless times to write daily and just read more but that doesn't cover the basics or foundations of creative writing, not like they can learn from a book bc they're a hands on learner anyway and p.s they're super broke so can't afford writing classes and no library near them offers free ones ---- aka me :( --- do you have any advice? lol i feel kinda doomed and that maybe writing isn't for me, but I don't wanna get my hopes down!! with the right tools, it's possible.

Free Resources for Learning How to Write

I want to start with addressing why you've been told so often "to write daily and read more" as a way to learn how to write. It's very difficult to learn and excel at a craft if you have no experience with said craft. You can read all the information in the world about how to forge a sword, but that doesn't mean you'll be able to pick up a hunk of metal and be able to forge a beautiful sword. You need to spend a lot of time watching other people forge swords, and spend a lot of time actually practicing each step yourself if you want to get good at it. Writing works the same way. Reading lets you experience what fiction should be, writing lets you practice each step for yourself.

Fortunately, there are lots of ways to read fiction for free. You can borrow books from friends, family members, and members of your community. You can check out books and e-books from your local library if you have one. You can look for Little Free Libraries in your neighborhood. There's also a lot of legally free fiction available online. Project Gutenberg, Planet E-Book, Bartleby, Literature.org, Classic Literature, Classic Short Stories, Wattpad, Archive of Our Own, Library of Short Stories, Levar Burton Reads, and sites like Kobo, Amazon, and Audible often offer freebies of both e-books and audio books.

Other free ways to learn how to write:

1 - Follow bloggers and vloggers and authors on social media who talk about the craft of writing. Some of my favorites are: Joanna Penn/The Creative Penn, K.M. Weiland, Liselle Sambury, Abbie Emmons, Hannah Lee Kidder, Brittany Wang, Alyssa Matesic, Bethany Atazadah, Lindsay Puckett, Alexa Donne, Shaelin Writes, Ellen Brock, The Writing Gals, and Sincerely, Vee.

2 - Follow writing craft blogs here on tumblr: (some suggestions) @writingwithcolor, @howtofightwrite, @heywriters, @cripplecharacters, @lgbtqwriting, @fixyourwritinghabits, @wordsnstuff, @yourbookcouldbegayer, @lizard-is-writing

3 - Watch writing craft videos on YouTube: If there's something specific you want to learn about, say, "how to structure a scene," type it into YouTube and many different videos will pop up that walk you through how to structure a scene. Just look for one that strikes you as appealing!

4 - Look for free writing resources online: many authors (especially indie authors and writing gurus/coaches like Joanna Penn, K.M. Weiland, Bethany Atazadeh, Brittany Wang, and Abbie Emmons) offer free writing resources on their web sites or by signing up for their newsletters. Often you'll see writers participating in free online writing summits/workshops which you can sign up for and either watch the videos live or via video playback that is offered for a short period of time (like 24 hours.)

5 - Do a Google Search: believe it or not, there's not a single thing you could want to learn about writing that you can't find for free on Google. If you want to learn how to improve your grammar, go to Google, type in "tips for improving grammar" and you will get a million articles that will tell you how to do just that. Want to learn how to improve your story's flow? Google "how to improve story flow" and you'll have your answer. You can even search for free worksheets, guides, and workbooks on just about anything you want. "Free character development worksheet" brought back a ton of nice looking free worksheets. "Free worldbuilding workbook" brought up several free workbooks and worksheets to help you with worldbuilding. Everything you could want to know is out there.

And, bonus: you can always read through the posts in my WQA master list to get help with a wide variety of craft and writer-related issues.

Happy learning! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Heya so this is Damian's pov in the chapter 16 of my fic Hostage situations and other romantic activities based on @iguessthisisanewobsession's prompt! I had it written out and though it doesn't fit in with the main storyline, I figured I'd post it here and link it in case anyone was curious. Feel free to ignore this if you haven't read the fic <3

Hope you guys enjoy:) (Spoilers ahead)

Damian’s head hurt. Zsasz had managed to get in a good hit before Damian had managed to knock him out, or at least what he thought had been a knock-out. He’d been sloppy and now the teen’s head was throbbing. At least, he had seen no injuries on Danny though the other boy had been very pale and looked unwell. 

That was another thing. Danny.

Gotham wasn’t a safe place for civilians, and metas had it even worse. That was true everywhere but in Gotham even more so; discrimination, increased risk of violence, even human experimentation. 

It wasn’t surprising that Danny would want to keep his abilities a secret. But something about the blast, how despite clearly having been instinct, the shot had been so very precise that Damian who had been pinned under Zsasz hadn’t felt more than a cold blast of wind made it seem as if there was more to it than that.

And right now, as he was perched up in the tree waiting for law enforcement, there was nothing to do but to speculate.

No, that was untrue, he thought as he took his phone out of his pocket. He could do more than that. 

He could research. And so he did. 

And found nothing.

Oh sure, there was a blurry picture here, an oblique mention there but no proof of existence beyond a social security number, a high school diploma, and one measly article.

No birth certificate, no social media, no medical file, not even a driver’s license.

It wasn’t that Danny Fenton was a ghost. It was more like he was a half-finished person.

Damian breathed out slowly. 

It wasn’t Danny’s powers that made him suspicious. It was everything else.

An hour later, Damian slid down into the now dark forest and started walking.

Damian looked up to see Danny coming down carefully. Damian steeled his expression into a neutral one, unwilling to let his thoughts play on his face.

“Daniel,” Damian started formally. “You went back to the school.”

That was a point in the boy’s favour; at least, he had not ran.

“Yeah,” Danny answered, too casually. “thanks again for saving my butt back there.”

Damian nodded, but abstained from saying anything further in favour of studying Danny’s expression. He didn’t seem any different but Damian knew appearances could be deceiving.

“So-“ Danny started but Damian wasn’t interested in small talk.

“I could not find a picture of you before your fourteenth birthday,” Damian stated clearly.

“Uh,” Danny stumbled. “Ok?”

“Nor could I find a birth certificate in your name.” Damian continued expecting a twitch, a frown, something.

“Yeah,” Danny answered calmly, waving. “Mom and Dad are terrible at paperwork.”

Alright. If that was how Danny would play it. Flimsy excuses could only go so far. 

“No social media, no bank account. Not even a tax return in twenty years.”

“IRS have given up long before I was born,” Danny answered airily. “And Amity’s not the safest place for technology.”

Damian studied the boy in front of him. He looked relaxed and mostly at ease. A bit confused, a bit tired if anything. And Damian wanted to believe it. 

Yet, both his instinct and his experience were telling him not to, and so Damian forged on.

“Why did you come to Gotham?” Damian asked.

“What?” Danny answered, once again frowning in confusion. “Uh, I’m here for school? I think I told you that.”

This was getting insulting.

“Do not lie to me,” Damian said, feeling something brewing.

“I’m not,” Daniel persisted in a stupid simplistic excuse. “I’m really here for school.”

Damian clenched his jaw, keeping his eyes peeled on the deceptive face in front of him. Damian had come for the truth and he was going to get it. 

“You truly had me fooled,” Damian stated as he slowly started to circle the other teen. “I did not suspect you for a moment.”

“What are you even talking about?” Danny said, but Damian wasn’t listening to more lies.

“Why did you approach me?” Damian asked asking from Danny’s side. Because that was the most logical explanation, no matter what Damian wanted to believe. It wouldn’t be the first time mother or another one of his enemies had sent someone to kill him. He had to consider the possibility. Danny turned to keep himself facing Damian.

“I didn’t,” Danny stressed, his voice almost snarling. Good. More likely to let something slip.

“Maybe so, but you did not turn down the opportunity to do so either.” Damian allowed, because it truly would’ve been a convoluted plan to manipulate Damian into choosing Danny.

“What,” Danny’s voice biting. “Like you left me any choice?”

Damian stopped short at that. He knew he could be forceful and overbearing but he would never force anyone to do anything like that. He was nothing like her.

“Damian,” Danny’s voice rose again, kinder, softer. “Im not sure what this is, and we can talk about it, I-”.

No. This wouldn’t work. Damian wouldn’t let himself be pacified like a child. “You have deceived me,” Damian reminded himself and Danny

“I haven’t,” Danny protested but Damian wasn't listening. 

“You are not who you say you are.” That was the truth. And no matter what he said, Daniel knew it too.

“Yes, I am,” Danny refuted strongly and Damian had had enough. There was one thing Daniel could no longer lie about.

 “Are you?” Damian asked clearly. “Tell me Danny, are you human?”

Danny flinched and Damian’s heart sank even as it confirmed what Damian already knew.

“That’s what I thought,” said Damian, more calmly than he felt.

“What does that mean?” Danny asked, still trying to pretend but Damian wouldn’t let him.

“It means, I am ashamed I let you get so close.”

It means I know, Damian thought. It mean there’s no use pretending. It means, please do not try. 

There was a moment of silence where Damian held his breath. For Danny to finally give it up and admit it.

Daniel took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. And Damian held himself straighter. Daniel opened his mouth but closed it again.

And then finally-

“Please leave,” Danny’s voice came and what was left of Damian’s hope froze over.

So this was it then. 

“Fine,” Damain said dispassionately. “I’ll send you the severance pay before the end of the week.”

“I don’t want it,” Daniel bit out and Damian could feel something ugly within him rear its head, and Damian let it take the place of the coldness.

“Waynes believe in tying up loose ends,” Damian said silkily. “It does not do to for past indiscretions crop up at importunate times.”

“Ok no. I’m done with this.” Danny stalked off, and it welled up again, poisonous and mean.

“I would be happy to give a recommendation to any new employer of yours,” Damian shouted. 

He knew he was supposed to be better than this, but he couldn’t help it.

“Screw you!” Danny yelled back and Damian snarled, stopping himself from punching at a tree or something equally stupid and emotional.

Whatever. He turned away and started walking.

It wasn’t like it had been a real relationship. It wasn’t like it had meant anything. Damian started running.

It had done what it was supposed to do, and really, Damian had gotten out of it exactly what he wanted. 

The thought did nothing to appease the empty feeling in his chest as he made his way back home.

[braidlottie]

copycat

pairing: professor!matthews x transmasc!student!reader

summary: after your english professor catches you plagiarizing on your latest essay, she gives you a punishment you'll never forget.

tags: smut, nsfw, 18+ (minors dni), BIG age gap (reader is 19, lottie is 40), professor matthews and reader secretly dating!!! this is not just a random hookup lmao, spanking, teasing, dirty talk, handjob/blowjob, professor matthews being mean :((

word count: 1k

"any more questions?" your professor turned around to the class after wiping the board. she got no reply, shrugging and putting her glasses on her head, holding her hair back. "okay! have a good one, everyone!" she excused everyone, watching them put on their backpacks and walk out.

this being your last class today, you were so happy to get home and relax. you can do your homework tomorrow. "hang on, honey. can i talk to you really quick?" professor matthews touched your shoulder, pushing you back down into your seat. "uhh- of course. is everything okay?"

she shut the door, and drew the curtains on the windows. she sucked in a hard breath, sitting back down in her chair. she gestured a "come here" with her fingers, slipping her glasses back on. she pulled out another chair from behind the desk, and you walked over to her. and as you sat down, you saw multiple paragraphs highlighted red. "does this look familiar to you?"

you began to read the hook of the essay, your stomach dropping when you realized it was yours. you turned to your instructor with wide eyes, the feeling finally settling in that you were caught.

"wait! it's not what it looks like." you tried to save yourself, but there was no hope. "it's exactly what it looks like, sweetheart." her hands were crossed, giving you a serious but sympathetic look. "would you like to tell me why you would copy an article and think that you would get away with it? and don't lie to me."

you had never seen this side of lottie before. she was always so kind to you and seeing her so hostile and you being the cause of it, was a little intimidating.

"i-i couldn't think of anything to write, so- i don't know, i just copied that last minute and turned it in." you answered with a pitiful look, and she hummed. "i see. so what you're saying is, i gave you a whole week to write a two page essay and you forged it?" you nodded shamefully.

“such a naughty boy.”

something about that made your cock twitch.

"please don't tell anyone, can you just pass me like you always do?" you were pleading, knowing that plagiarism this serious could get you kicked out of school. "if anything, i should tell someone! i should drop you from this class right now."

regretful tears of shame began to well in your eyes, lottie noticing and sighing. "'m really sorry, lottie. just- don't drop me, please."

she tsks, standing up and holding your chin up. "fine, i won’t say a word to anyone. but i’m not letting you get off scot-free.”

she pulled you up by your shirt, one of her hand on your ass cheek and the other on your belt buckle. she slowly held up your shirt, marveling at your chest. you couldn't believe how fast she loosened your belt with one hand, the buckle jingling as you whined when you realized how embarrassing your boxers were.

"spider-man? really? god, you just get cuter and cuter, don't you?" she shook her head. "i want you to bend over, so i can spank that little ass. you deserve it for being such a bad boy." she forces you over her desk, pulling down your boxers teasingly slow. "lottie.. please..." you looked back at her, squirming when her nails scratched your ass. "you don't have to do this."

"oh, but i do." she smacked your right cheek, getting a loud groan out of you. "and you better stay quiet." lottie noticed how your groans got whinier and desperate after each spank. "i think you actually like this, hmm? you like it when your professor spanks you for being so naughty?" her voice got deeper, her rhythm not skipping a beat. you whined, shaking your head against the wood.

"then, what's this?" her hand swipes up your thigh, collecting the slick dripping into your boxers that you had no knowledge of. "i bet you're hard right now, hmm?" you couldn't even answer, groaning into the desk. she turned you around, your tdick rising from the surprising gust of wind. "aww, look at that," she lifted you up by your thighs, sitting you on the desk. she lifted up the hood, finding your throbbing, pink head. "fuck." you squirmed in her hold.

"ah, ah, don't curse. bad boy." your dick was held in-between her fingers, stroking you up and down. “fu-ahh!” you felt her hand slap over your mouth.

“am i going to have to gag you? be. quiet.”

now that you think about it, you were kind of glad you plagiarized.

you were trying to say something, but your mouth was still covered by lottie. “what was that, sweetie?”

“i want your mouth. please.”

“you want my mouth? where, sweetheart?”

you hated when she made you describe everything so literally, especially during sex.

“c’mon, tell me, baby.”

“you already know.”

“but i want you to tell me.” her hands squeezed around your waist.

“mm- i want your mouth on my cock, please.” lottie grinned at your shyness, soaking up all the adorableness from your embarrassment. “good boy. since you asked so nicely…”

she crouched down, tongue swirling about on your twitching cock, your cunt clenching onto nothing so needily. “lottie…”

“you know that’s not my name here, sweet boy.” she watched your face scrunch up in desperation. “professor… ‘m gonna cum,” you choked out, your thighs trembling from the wet, warm feeling of lottie’s lips sucking you.

“oh, i bet you are. cumming in your professors mouth on her desk? such a dirty little boy.”

you whimpered, so close to the edge.

then all of it just- stopped.

“nononono, please, please, lottie-” you shook your head, crying from the denial. “you didn’t think i was really going to let you cum, right?”

a tear flung from your eye and lottie scoffed, brushing it away with her thumb. “you’re still on punishment, darling.”

she pulled your shirt down and helped you off the desk, pulling your boxers and pants back up. “you better go home, and write that essay, the right way, and have it on my desk as soon as class starts monday. and you better not touch yourself. understand me?”

“yes.”

“yes, what?” she zipped up your pants, kissing your neck.

“yes, professor.”

“there’s my good boy. now run along.” she spanked your stinging bottom once more to send you on your way, watching your legs wobble as you scrambled out of the room.

taglist: @t4tnat @jaywritessometimes @girltwinklater @kessellluvr @lotties-ashwagandha @shipmanisms

[alovelywaytospendanevening]

Lit Hub: How Wilfred Owen and Siegfried Sassoon Forged a Literary and Romantic Bond

Wilfred Owen first mentioned the presence of a new star on his horizon on August 15, 1917. He had been busy acting, editing the hospital magazine, arguing with his mother by letter about whether Christianity and the war were compatible (he thought not, and he had hard words to say about the Archbishop of Canterbury, who did). So he may not have noticed at first the presence of Siegfried Sassoon. At their first meeting, Sassoon treated Wilfred with a certain lordly condescension. Wilfred persisted, however, and their next meeting was warmer. They talked about poetry, and Sassoon asked Wilfred to help him decipher a handwritten fan letter from H.G. Wells, written in pale pink ink. Wilfred was in the full throes of hero worship, while Sassoon, although he may have been better at concealing his emotions, was beginning to feel a powerful attraction for his handsome young admirer, critiquing and rewriting Wilfred’s poems, who had sent home to his mother and sister for every scrap he had written. It should not be imagined that the relationship between the two men was all one way. Sassoon recognized in Wilfred a greater poet than himself, but his own poetry also improved as the two men worked together. Still, it was Sassoon who remained in Wilfred’s eyes “the great man,” an impression no doubt influenced by class. [Wilfred's] brother Harold scoured his letters so thoroughly after his death that it is impossible to tell whether Owen had a physical relationship with Sassoon, but in every other respect it was the closest he would ever come to a love affair. “Spent all day [with Sassoon] yesterday,” he wrote his mother ecstatically. “Breakfast, Lunch, Tea & Dinner.” Wilfred and Sassoon spent their last evening together at the Scottish Conservative Club in Edinburgh, eating a good dinner, drinking “a noble bottle of Burgundy” and laughing uproariously over a volume of especially bad poetry. Sassoon had given Wilfred, as a parting gift, a thick envelope, which he opened in the club while waiting to take the midnight train. It contained a ten-­pound note and a letter of introduction to Robert Ross in London, the friend, editor, and devoted defender of Oscar Wilde and a literary luminary almost as well connected and admired as Edward Marsh. Ross was a friend of H.G. Wells, Arnold Bennett, and Osbert Sitwell, as well as a central figure in the homosexual literary and social world. Sassoon must have hesitated before including the ten-­pound note for fear it might be taken as an insult, but Wilfred responded with genuine gratitude. "Know that since mid-­September, when you still regarded me as a tiresome little knocker on your door I held you as Keats + Christ + Elijah + my Colonel + my father-­confessor + Amenophis IV in profile…. I love you, dispassionately, so much, so very much, dear Fellow, that the blasting little smile you wear on reading this can’t hurt me in the least….And you have fixed my life—­however short. I was always a mad comet; but you have fixed me. I spun around you a satellite for a month, but I shall swing out soon, a dark star in the orbit where you will blaze." He ended his letter with a phrase he had used earlier to his mother to describe his relationship with Sassoon: “[We] knew we loved each other as no men love for long.” (Full article)

[ewingstan]

are you still doing the philosophy ask game. if so jessie...for me...

Okay I'm gonna go more in-depth than I usually do for these, because the thing that best works is a whole article that itself is responding to a lot of different arguments. So this is gonna be a bit of a journey. It’ll start out morbid, but end on a more positive note. Jessie fans should read Kaufman’s Lucretius and the Fear of Death.

The question of whether we see death as a bad thing has been contentious for as long as we have records of people arguing. Its simpler for those who believe in an afterlife: If what comes after is bad, you should fear it, if it isn't, you shouldn't. But for those who don't believe in an afterlife, why should death be considered bad for you?

The question might seem ridiculous, but its worth pointing out that most bad things that can happen to us are experiences. Pain, sorrow, humiliation, all are bad because they happen to us. But death? When it comes we're not around anymore to experience it. As Epicurus argued, "so long as we exist, death is not with us; but when death comes, then we do not exist. It does not then concern either the living or the dead, since for the former it is not, and the latter are no more.”

So if things can only be bad by virtue of us experiencing them, and if we can't experience death (we can experience dying, but not death), then why should death be feared? A popular answer is to expand what counts as bad to include deprivation, or the absence of positive things we're owed. Consider a case where someone sends us jewelry as an anonymous gift, but the gift gets stolen in transit. We don't feel any negative emotions as a result; we weren't expecting a gift, so its absence doesn't make us frustrated or sorrowful. But we can still say the theft was bad for us, because it deprived us of something that should've been ours. So Epicurus is often answered using The Deprivation Account: Death is bad because it deprives us of the goods of life. When I die, I'm robbed of all the good experiences I could've had by living longer.

The good times we shared will always have happened. But I deserve more, and our expiration dates mean I'm not going to get them.

But this argument already had its critics as far back as first-century BC. Lucretius challenged it with The Symmetry Argument: If its nonexistence that we find terrible, our absence from the universe after our death that we find tragic, why isn't our absence before our birth similarly tragic? Our prenatal nonexistence mirrors exactly our post-death nonexistence. And if death is bad because our nonexistence deprives us of all the goods we could've experienced in the future, doesn't our late time of birth deprive us of all the goods we could've experienced in the past?

If I'm sad that I didn't get to live another twenty years, than it shouldn't matter that those twenty years not lived were in the future and not the past. And if I'm not sad about having been deprived of past existence, I shouldn't be sad about having been deprived of future existence.

(Of course, Jessie could mourn that she wasn't born earlier. All the happiness you had growing up, that I read about him having. The closeness you shared, that pushed you away from getting close to me for so long. What would it have been like for us, if I was there from the start?)

So why should we hold asymmetrical attitudes towards the earliness o our death and the lateness of our birth? Kaufman gives a good reason: We couldn't have been born earlier. "I" am not my body or my genetic code—if I was, I'd share an identity with my identical twin. "I" am a psychological continuity, a chain of memories and mental states, a process of one experience leading to another. The memories I have, the connections I've forged, how my experiences have made me who I am—that's what makes me me. So a hypothetical version of me born earlier couldn't be "me" in any robust sense, because that hypothetical me's earlier birth would mean it shared no psychological continuity with me.

I can talk about myself using counterfactuals: What if I'd gone to trade school? What if I pursued a career as a boxing manager? But the reason I can talk about those counterfactual people and call them me, despite how they've lived a different life, is because they share a psychological continuity with me up to a point. We have the same start, and from there have the same chain of experiences and mental events up till some point of divergence. But someone can't share a continuity with me if their continuity had a different starting point. If I ask "what if I was born in ancient Egypt" or "what if I was born in 4000 AD," I'm not actually asking what I'd be like in those circumstances at all—I'd only be asking what a person with my genetic code would be like. I am my history, and even if they lived within my actual lifetime, an earlier start means they wouldn't share any of that history. I might as well be talking about my twin, or a stranger who looks like me.

After all, Jessie was born earlier—but not as herself. Jamie the first had the same body, same genes, but wasn't the same person as Jessie. The start of her psychological continuity, her birth, was not a continuation of Jamie's continuity, but a break and an end.

I can imagine what it was like to be him. You know he was good at painting a picture, for all his quietness. But I didn't live his life, I've just read his words.

Thankfully, I could never really be him. My story is a clean slate. I'm here, and I'm ready to live.

[podcastenthusiast]

I read an article about Geralt's chronic pain in book canon, then I remembered Dr. Joachim von Gratz in Witcher 3 saying he could tell Geralt broke his leg at some point. So I took all that and ran with it for this.

---

Geralt is in pain.

It's an odd phrase, he thinks as he trudges up the stairs to their room. Like pain is a physical place he could escape if he only knew how.

Vesemir had taught them long ago that pain is simply information. Its message should be acknowledged and the rest discarded as useless sensation. A witcher who can't handle pain is a dead witcher, after all; they were forged in agony.

Geralt can never figure out what all of the pain wants him to know, if anything. Why it flares up like this. It's just outdated information.

They're staying at an inn tonight. What used to be a rare luxury on the Path has become commonplace, at least in Jaskier's company. Good thing, too; an unrelenting spring rainstorm is raging outside. Thunder rumbles a mile away and he can taste electricity in the air, not unlike the pain that zaps through his leg with each step.

Jaskier had called for the tub in their room to be filled, thankfully. Geralt casts Igni on the water until it's almost too hot even for a witcher, and sinks into the bath with a relieved sigh. Warmth dulls the pain somewhat, like a blunted blade beneath his skin, but it's still there.

He eventually must leave the bath, however. Getting himself dressed somehow saps away the last of his energy, and Geralt deposits his aching body onto the bed after, letting his mind drift as much as it can. Jaskier is hovering in his periphery. He's talking, as ever, envigorated by an adoring audience, eyes a little wine-bright. Try as he might, Geralt can't focus on his words. There's a cacophony of sounds around him—rain and Jaskier's heartbeat and drunken revelry downstairs and animals in the forest just beyond the village. But eclipsing it all is the pain.

Years of experience and witcher training allows him to bear it without letting the weakness show. He can live with pain, like he lives with the foul taste of potions and their aftereffects, with teleportation sickness and wearing scratchy doublets to formal occasions. With human cruelty. The blood on his hands.

"Geralt, have you been listening at all?"

"Hm."

"Right. You're not even here right now, I see."

"Hmm."

He isn't here. He's not in this room or even this country; he is in pain.

"Move over, then. You're taking up the entire bed and I'm knackered."

Geralt does move. It nearly steals the breath from his lungs. He curls in on himself, instinctively, as if the pain weren't coming from within.

"Something is wrong. What is it?"

Jaskier sounds serious now. Geralt doesn't want to ruin his evening.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Geralt—"

"I said I'm fine. Leave it, Jaskier!"

He stands up then as if to prove it, but his treacherous knee refuses to cooperate with the simplest command and buckles under his weight. The pain, which had briefly lodged itself near his hip, suddenly radiates sharply down his leg in nauseating waves. He curses.

"You're hurt, aren't you. I thought I saw you favoring one leg earlier. Was it the griffin? Geralt, you have to tell me these things—"

"No," he grits out. "I'm not injured."

"And I'm not stupid, you know. You can barely walk! Clearly—"

"Old wounds. Just...still troubles me sometimes. All right? Nothing to worry about."

There is a long, uncharacteristic silence following his confession. Geralt fears he may have finally broken him.

"Well," the bard says at last, "You're a fool if you think that will stop me worrying about you."

"I can manage." His arm doesn't hurt much tonight, at least, and he gets to sleep in a real bed. Small mercies.

"Oh, I've no doubt of that, certainly. You're the most stubborn man I've ever known. I also know you rarely permit yourself even the slightest modicum of comfort."

"Jaskier..."

"Does anything help when it gets bad?"

"Potions. Meditation." Jaskier looks hopeful at this, and he feels a little guilty for having to crush those hopes so soon when he adds, "But not this time. I don't have enough potions to waste them like that."

"Meditation, then? I can be as quiet as you need, contrary to popular belief."

"Hurts too much," Geralt admits. Then, maybe to ease Jaskier's concern, he says, "The bath helped a little."

"Good, that's a start. Now, I know what works for me might not work for you, but I've a few remedies. Will you let me try to help?"

"Didn't know you were a priestess of Melitele," he grumbles.

"Sadly the temple refused to accept me for study, can't imagine why, so I had to become a bard instead," he quips.

"I thought you were tired."

Jaskier ignores this comment. He can hear the bard rummaging around in his bag.

"Where is it. This salve saved my life when I was a student at Oxenfurt. They had us practicing the lute for hours and hours; I thought my hands would fall off. My wrists still hurt sometimes. Then there was the— Ah! There. Geralt? Still with me?"

"Yes. What?"

"Normally I prefer to say this under much more pleasant circumstances, but: trousers off, if you please."

He groans. Doesn't Jaskier understand how much work it was to get them on?

It's a slow process, mostly because he refuses any help with it.

"Oh, Geralt," he says softly. The bard touches his knee, gentle as a summer breeze. "It does look swollen here."

In truth, he's strangely glad of that. It's much worse somehow when it hurts and yet appears perfectly normal.

"Are you allergic to any herbs? This has got, uh, let's see. Chamomile, willow bark, ginger, essential oil of—"

"I drink poison on a regular basis, Jaskier. Apply the damn salve already."

He does. Geralt closes his eyes. He isn't sure any simple salve will even be enough to touch the pain, but the way Jaskier massages his leg seems to ease a bit of the tension coiled in his muscles, if nothing else. After a while he starts to relax. He listens to the rain. He breathes.

"'M sorry I snapped at you earlier," Geralt murmurs into the pillow. "Wasn't fair."

"It wasn't. But you're already forgiven. Feeling any better?"

Geralt shrugs, because while it is becoming background noise again, he's still in pain. Pretty much always is. No amount of soft touches or herbs or magic can fix that completely.

Being here in pain with Jaskier, though, is better than being alone.

[ragingbookdragon]

You're Feeling Ten For Ten

Task Force 141 x Reader (Actually Reader x Ghost if you look close enough) One-Shot

Word Count: 1.6K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: Hey I made a part two. Happy now? Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

The little breakroom is cozy, she decides as she plants her ass on the couch and props her legs on the other side. Cozy enough that she can already imagine some of her things here and there. A bag of Black Ivory coffee beans beside a La Marzocco Strada Electronic Paddle, a seventeenth century Persian rug, a Parsifal Round Fendi couch complete with a Metropolis coffee table, the ideas are endless, and she can’t help but begin to call in orders from her high end clients. It’s the center of her focus until a ringtone echoes from the coffee table and, her being who she is, reaches over and takes the iPhone, carefully looking over the contact.

Nannie Moira? Must be the Scots granny, she thinks and answers the phone.

“Hello!” she chirps politely and the response she gets is not one she expects.

John?

“I’ve been called quite a few things in my life, but ‘John’ has never been one of them.” She’s already pulling up the 141’s files, sliding to “John MacTavish” before she enters “Moira MacTavish” into a search bar. Of course, she comes up within the first ten searches and she smiles.

Oh, Christ, I thought I’d rung my ogha.

“Oh, you did, Missus Moira,” she answers. “I’m afraid John is out right now, but he left his phone and you seemed quite important, so why not answer?” she smiles. “John talks quite a bit about you Missus Moira.” Her eyes scan the newspaper articles from Stirling, Family of Five Killed In Massive Car Pile-Up, Leaves Boy, Two, Orphaned. “Best woman he knows, yes?”

Aye, my ogha, John. Raised the lad myself.

“Missus Moira—”

Call me Nannie Moira, darling. Any friend of John’s is a child o’ mine.

“Of course, Nannie Moira,” she smiles. “So, tell me more of John. He’s so tight-lipped about himself.”

Oh, I can talk for hours of my ogha. Did you know—

***

It’s a good half hour before the door to the break room opens and in piles four men who stop like deer in headlights as they take in the woman—they do not know—sitting on their couch, laughing as she answers, “Nannie Moira! You did not say that to Johnny’s girlfriend!” Whatever response she gets, they can tell it makes her laugh because she presses the back of her hand to her mouth.

Soap’s already headed her way at the mention of his grandmother; she bats at his hand when he tries to take the phone from her. “Oh, Nannie, I think John just got back, would you like to talk to him?” she holds out the phone expectingly and chastises, “Nannie’s very upset you didn’t call her last night.”

He takes the phone, “Nannie, are you alright?...well, yes, I know I didn’t call, I was—yes, Nannie…yes ma’am…I promise I will call you tomorrow night…I love you, Nannie.” He hangs up and glares down at her. “Congratulations, you’re invited to midnight mass on Christmas Eve.”

“Can’t wait,” she replies with a smirk and turns her gaze to Ghost. “Hi, Simon.”

“How,” he starts darkly and stalks towards her in slow, warning steps. “Did you get in here?”

She blinks owlishly at him. “Let’s see, I forged a key card, showed it to the enlisted at the gate, and you might want to actually enlighten them on who they should and should not let it, and walked right in.” she sniffs and tips her head to the air vent that they now notice is missing a covering. “Air vent was a little snug too.”

“I’ve half a mind to arrest you.”

“Oh, I can agree you do have half a mind. It’s why you’ve never managed to beat me in any fight we have.” She raises her hands like she’s waiting cuffs. “Go ahead. But if you arrest me, you won’t have a way to blow up that Syrian power plant you all are planning without leaving someone behind to make sure it does.”

That stops all of them and they stare at her, Price especially when he walks over. “You’re the woman Soap mentioned.” They all ignore how Ghost absolutely glowers at Soap who has now found the ceiling much more interesting. “How much do you know?”

“About the power plant or the mission?”

“All of it.”

She taps a pointer to her chin. “Well, that’s no fun to tell and not get rewarded. I’m not a good girl unless I get a reward, Captain Price,” she purrs and gazes at him. “In return for this information, I’m going to give you my file and you will strongly consider my…introduction, into the 141.”

“No, absolutely not,” Ghost gripes. “I am not working with you.”

“Oh, don’t hurt my feelings, Simon. We both know you and I work so well.”

“You are a killer.”

“I’m a murderer of very bad people, the same as you. So, I’d be careful waving that hypocrisy stick around—might end up with it too far up your ass.”

Ghost turns to Price. “Her name is Spades, she’s an international assassin responsible for taking out targets with the biggest bounties.”

“So, by technicality, I’m a bounty hunter,” she adds. “He’s right though, I do take out quite a few bounties. But believe it or not, the most scandalous thing about me is that I am a morally good assassin. I don’t kill good people. Only very, very, very bad people. Like the Guestroom Butcher.” She ignores the shocked stares. “God, I had to spend months in London before I got that guy. I hate London.”

“You—you killed the Guestroom Butcher?” the fourth man asks, and she peers at him.

“You must be Gaz. And yes, I did. His name was Albert Franklin. A physics teacher at a local secondary school who was a janitor part time. Spent years traveling to different guestrooms all over London to murder tourists. Such an odd man. He talked a lot before I killed him. Kept muttering something about his late wife being killed by tourists decades prior. Sad, but understandable as to why he targeted tourists.”

“And how do we know you killed him?” Gaz inquires.

“Well, my name isn’t Spades for a reason, dear,” she explains and looks at Simon. “Have my card still?” He wordlessly pulls it out and hands it to Gaz, who looks over it. “That’s my calling card. I leave it on bodies so that police know I was there. Look up the case on the internet. There’s a photo of my card.”

“How do you know someone didn’t forge this?”

“All my cards are made by hand, with gold inlay. Signed too. No one can forge my card. And no one in the business is foolish enough to get on my radar for pretending to be me. I’m one of the best there is for a reason.”

Price looks at her. “How do you know about the mission?”

“Simon forgets that he shouldn’t carry around information on a phone.”

“It was locked,” is all he replies when Price glares at him.

“Oh, it was, I unlocked it with a hacker’s bypass.” She clears her throat. “As for the mission…I know the logistics of what you’re planning. I know someone is going to have to stay behind to make sure the pressure in the facility gets high enough that it blows. I also have a bypass for that in which we don’t have to hold a funeral for someone here.”

They stare at her, watching, waiting.

She lifts a small plug, no bigger than a thumb. “This, is a kill-switch made by one of the scientists who helped build the power plant. When the Syrian government found out he was gay, they had him executed. Before that, he made this as insurance and sold it to the black market the United States frequents. I paid quite a pretty penny for it.”

“What’s it do?” Soap asks.

“This little plug will directly overload the system in fifteen minutes. There is no way to stop the overload once it’s been activated by this. That’s why it’s the kill-switch.” She rolls it in her fingers. “You insert this into the mainframe and in exactly fifteen minutes, you blow everything in a ten mile radius to kingdom come.” She smiles. “Only takes five to get out of the facility and to the rescue chopper. Ten minutes to get outside the blast radius.”

They’re silent and she knows she’s found her entrance point as she rises from the couch; their eyes follow her.

“I’ll be in my quarters. Simon, I chose the room between you and Gaz since it was vacant. Oh, and Captain Price, there’s going to be quite a few boxes being delivered to the base in the next two hours. If you would, have someone bring them to my room so I can set them up.” she gathers her things. “Also, if one of you, I’m hoping it’ll be Soap, can help me move out all that ugly military furniture from my quarters, I would appreciate it.”

She walks past them without a care in the world.

“Can’t believe you plebians live like this. What ever happened to having good furniture and a supported spinal column when you sleep?”

The door closes behind her and Simon’s the first to break the silence. “You’re just going to let her stay?”

Price glares at him. “The fuck am I supposed to do? She looks more prepared for our mission than we are right now.”

Ghost growls, legitimately growls, and says, “I cannot believe I have to fucking work with her.”

This, doesn’t stop Soap from raising his hand and asking, “Wait, so fraternization only works on folks in the military right?”

“SOAP, SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

[batsplat]

☕️ on marc/dani as teammates? bc so many ppl on here especially have such a simplified and maybe even rose-tinted view of their dynamic imo…..

hm yeah it's a tricky one because I do think there's a lot of genuine interpersonal fondness there that was forged in the aftermath of some equally genuine animosity. for me, it's that development that's particularly interesting... what I personally have always found the most appealing about this rivalry is just how ruthless marc as to someone he genuinely admired and considered one of his heroes or 'references'. like, I think it's a bit different from the dynamic with valentino because it's kind of... vale's the childhood hero vs dani as a rider who's ahead of you who you want to directly emulate in rising through the ranks. with valentino, marc didn't really think they'd ever be competing at the top of the sport because of how big the age gap was, but with dani? different story

which does affect the emotional approach, I reckon - you can admire them and still dream of beating them, you know? like, say you're fourteen years old in 2007 and are getting out your customised casey stoner voodoo doll while he's bitch slapping your two guys, what fantasies are you cooking up in your little brain about meeting your heroes? with valentino, it's probably him grinning at you while handing you your tenth consecutive motogp trophy and telling you how amazing you are... how you're his successor, the one carrying on his legacy... lots of daydreaming of him like, hyping you up after he's retired and calling you god's gift to motorcycle racing, etc etc. who knows, maybe marc was also fantasising about beating valentino in epic duels, but he wasn't really expecting to be fighting valentino, right? whereas with dani? oh yeah, marc might have thought he was great... but in an ideal world, he's ripping the crown off dani's head when dani's a three time defending motogp champion! so crucially marc wasn't blindsided by actually fighting him on-track, and was kinda more prepared for that to get ugly? dani acts as a 'direct' reference, where he's just a few years ahead and marc can see how it's done, basically. but what this still means... he'd admired this guy for years, he had posters of him and all that shit, but the moment they're direct competitors and teammates? all that is just... locked away. no interest no mercy, all he cares about is beating the guy. and marc did still talk about using dani as a reference point, about how much he'd learned from him... but of course that scary fast learning of his was all about beating dani

from dani's side... I'm glad he's gotten to a stage where he's at peace with his career, but. god, it must have been tough. at the end of 2012, he's the in-form rider - more so than jorge. he won six of the last eight races that year. incidentally, this is how jorge is talking before the 2013 season:

obviously, jorge is trying to fuck with dani here, but he's also not really wrong. all four of the aliens have got a lot going on early 2013, but if you had to point at the guy who is dealing with the most pressure? well, it's got to be dani, doesn't it. he was the one who still had something to prove in the premier class, who was now being thrown together with the super hyped rookie. this is how dani spoke about marc at the start of the year:

and here:

and then of course marc beat dani at qatar and then won at cota... granted, dani does a good job of keeping his head and regrouping for the next few races - but it was still an auspicious start, provoking a lot of discourse that wasn't particularly kind to dani. so in that first year, you've got all these different elements - you've got how marc is competing on-track, dani's injury, how marc is already attempting to assert himself within the team, how you've got the behind the scenes warfare between their two teams (again, see this article)... and then dani's issues with marc's actual riding (x, x). now, I think it's worth saying that aragon 2013 is not a case where marc has clearly fucked up. he makes a mistake, yes, but he couldn't have known the slight contact he made with dani would lead to that wire breaking and dani's highside. here's what dani said:

this is a case where different racing philosophies clash, right? what dani's saying is that what happened was a direct consequence of how marc approaches riding - that he's always flirting with contact and this time it finally went wrong. it's the kind of riding dani has consistently disliked, and it's something marc is the poster boy for. in this case, this crash essentially ends dani's title bid. he couldn't walk for three days afterwards. dani criticised race direction for choosing not to give marc a penalty (apart from the penalty points) - this was not something he just brushed off

and, look, you do have to bring it up... dani's experiences with sic will inevitably have influenced how he approached the marc rivalry. I mean, it kind of did for all of them - there's elements of that tragedy that will have bled into how valentino, jorge, dovi and dani reacted to marc. with casey, it's one of the reasons why marc never even had an on-track rivalry with him. now, obviously, dani had big, big issues with sic, a lot of tension including harsh comments in the press and refused handshakes and all of that, as a result of sic's very aggressive approaching to racing. dani was also the one who suffered the most as a direct result, in particular after the broken collarbone at le mans. he's spoken after sic's passing about his regret about how he handled that relationship... how it changed his approach to rivalries, that reminder that there might be things he'd never have the chance to fix

the other sic-related element is that of course, there were easy parallels to be drawn between him and marc, and his shadow did at times loom uncomfortably over debates over hard racing during that period. I think you can feel it most strongly in jorge's response to marc... the echoes of when jorge had gotten in a verbal clash with sic at one of the 2011 pressers and his frustration when his complaints were just laughed off by journalists:

this press conference was from the race before le mans, where sic was responsible for dani's broken collarbone. so if two years later, you've got marc publicly shrugging off jorge's complaints in an only slightly more respectful manner, how can you not be at least a little concerned? yes, marc did have a better feeling of where the limit was, he didn't really push things too far, but... this was still a very recent trauma for everyone and nobody knew how far marc would or wouldn't push it at the time. especially not after the kind of reputation he'd gotten himself in his 125cc/moto2 days. (though of course it's important to note that sic's death wasn't caused by his style of racing, and if anything he'd gotten more sensible in the latter stages of 2011). so the influence goes both ways, right? on the one hand, it all feels a bit too familiar, on the other... well, that's actually a reason why you probably don't want to be too harsh on this kid. because you never know

in the end, the tensest year of their teammate partnership was 2013 - because after that title was sealed marc had won. by the end of the year, it wasn't really dani's team any more. his internal position had already been de facto undermined by casey, but not to the same extent because casey wasn't really interested in playing these games - plus the end stretch of 2012 had definitely cemented dani's role in the team. I've already given most of my thoughts here about how marc takes control of that team, which inevitably touches on some of his nastier behaviour. lying about what parts suited him is the obvious example... he's a ruthless teammate, he openly admits to it. and obviously, dani wasn't always just fine with that. who would be? he's accepted that's part of who marc is as a competitor, and at the end of the day he also had to accept losing. sometimes you just gotta make your peace with a status quo, yeah? it's tricky to strike the balance between not losing the competitive edge and not letting losing to your young teammate year after year drive you insane... dani's always been quite good at focusing on himself, even if a lot of the time 'focusing on himself' involved 'recovering from some horrid injury'

so you know, it's nice that their relationship has gotten warmer since they've no longer been teammates, and for the most part they did keep things civil while they were directly working with each other. also, you do just get over things when you're no longer competing with someone... I've said this before, but there's really only a relatively small number of truly burnt bridges in the paddock ecosystem. thing is, it's quite impressive of dani to seemingly not hold any grudges over what marc did to him... but he easily could have, and it kinda would've been justifiable? it's also primarily down to dani that this teammate dynamic didn't get worse than it was... which, y'know, you can argue if that was the right or the wrong approach, but it also meant he increasingly had to accept a subordinate role within that team - become a non-problematic teammate that honda was happy to sign again. and then you've got marc, who spent years looking up to dani and then spent years being pretty vicious to him and never saw the slightest contradiction between those two things, because of course he didn't! and of course he still has some historical fondness for him as a result of once being his fan... which is an element that has gradually snuck to the foreground again after marc increasingly managed to dismiss dani as a competitive threat. overall, then, as teammates they had their early tensions, then they were 'reasonably friendly coworkers', now they get on quite well. over the course of his career, dani's hardly been immune to drama with other riders, but at the end of the day he's pretty feud-proof on the whole. what kind of a nutter would you have to be to start a feud with dani pedrosa, eh

[that-house]

what would you do if you were trapped in a time loop

i assume this time loop lasts until I better myself or something stupid like that right. Let’s say 24 hour loop

obviously i spend the first dozen loops watching every movie i wanted to watch but never got around to seeing

next hundred is reading books

spend a few months crafting an RPG system for the fun of it. record rules from previous loops in a shorthand, flesh it out fully over those months. make sure to dedicate time to memorizing all the core rules so I can easily replicate it when i get back

then apply the same sort of general idea to writing a book. spend a lot of time plotting it out, then write it scene by scene, redoing a scene each day until i’m happy with it. obviously it’s going to be a weird fragmented first draft that never all exists at once but crucially it’ll be really fucking easy to write when i get back to linear time

i can’t build up muscle mass so working out is pointless but i can master other skills. drive my ass out to a forge and practice making knives for a few months.

learn to do backflip

play laser tag at least once

ride every ride at every amusement park within a day’s journey of my starting point

learn to shoot a gun accurately (important for next step)

kill a right wing politician

try new foods until i like them

get really really good at makeup

learn how to pick locks

break into abandoned buildings and explore

fuck it. read every wikipedia article in english

maybe learn a new language? really the possibilities are endless

once i’m bored enough, do the rest of the school year’s course work ahead of time so i know all the answers when i’m in linear time again

Become a better person or whatever, breaking the time loop

Apply newfound skills to being so so so cool. I would love to be in a time loop i think it would fix me

[runekirikjartan]

Mandokarla Aran AU: Fox Lore

… if you wanted me dead, you should've just said, nothing makes me feel more alive...

Fox steps off the laati onto Coruscant's duracrete and durasteel jungle covered surface with his hands clasped behind his back. Waiting for him is not the jetii, but Senate guards and the Chancellor of the Republic himself, Sheev Palpatine, Fox's direct superior on Triple Zero. He didn't realize that their posting didn't give them a jetii, but he supposed it didn't really matter.

They were there for Coruscant, to protect the Heart of the Republic.

Fox could do that without a jedi.

He glances briefly over his shoulder at the rest of the troopers streaming off the laati until his men have come to a stop behind him, standing at attention until the Chancellor instructs them otherwise.

"Commander." The Chancellor greets him, a smile with not so many teeth and eyes that make the hairs on the back of Fox's neck prickle and stand like they do when something feels off and wrong.

'Marshal Commander' Fox thinks in correction. His rank is his pride.

He begins to talk and explain that the senate guard will escort them to their barracks and then the Coruscant Guard headquarters. He asks about how many men will be stationed on Coruscant with a glance to the men standing behind Fox.

Fox explains that the rest of his men will join them within the week.

The Chancellor's face is impassive, but there's a tightness in the smile that Fox doesn't like, doesn't trust.

He chalks it down to being on an unknown planet and in an unknown area, where he hasn't sufficiently examined all entry and exit points. Where he hasn't been able to place his men at weak points in the security of the landing platform.

They start walking.

-

…is it a wonder I broke? Let's hear one more joke, then we could all just laugh until I cry...

Fox pushes his hair from his forehead. The strands are getting lighter, greys turning white at the end, even if the crown of his head stays pitch black. Carver went through a few holo-articles that described the condition in which hair began to turn white,. Thorn wanted to chalk it down to Force osik. Fox blames it entirely on the fact that they were woefully underprepared to take on and manage the security of an entire planet with only the measly hundred and twenty thousand of them in the Guard.

If he had his way there would be double the number of men.

But he's not in charge, not really. His acquisition forms need to be signed off by the Chancellor for the most part, but Fox has signed enough of his paperwork that he knows the man's signature almost as well as his own. So instead he forges signatures to get his men extra stims, he and engineering hollow out a wall behind the maintenance tunnels to hoard their supplies.

Then the decommissioning order comes.

It's the first of many (not that Fox knows that). One of Fox's corporals was on a solo patrol within the Senate. He's a good vod, a corporal that was with them since the beginning of the Guard's deployment. When Fox gets to him, he's shaking, helmet off and abandoned as two other Guard are between him and a senator who has flown into a vicious and cruel rage.

And when it escalated up the chain of command, Fox was expecting support, something good that he could tell his men only to be met with the startling and uncomfortable realization that not even his superior officer saw him and his vod as human. That even the Chancellor didn’t think that the Guard, with their beating hearts and blood that stained the duracrete beneath their feet were people.

"An accusation like that is hard to shake."

"Surely this can be dealt with internally, sir." He tries to protest, hoping that he can just sweep System under the rug of other nameless faces and hope that the senator hadn’t gotten his designation. 

"They need to learn Commander.”

'Marshal Commander' Fox corrects if that would actually make a difference.

It doesn't.

-

..."Who's afraid of little old me?"...

Fox dreams in colour. He dreams in oranges and reds and brass and browns. He dreams of his vode with shining halos and weapons that grow brightly in their hands. Their eyes are nothing but light. When they speak, their voices come out as one.

"The stars will guide you Commander."

"Marshal Commander." Fox corrects out loud this time, finally speaking the words often lodged in his throat.

The vode in front of him chuckles in unison, a voice much deeper than their own, much louder than their own. Their eyes grow brighter, blinding in their nature and Fox is forced to turn away from the intensity, covering his eyes. When he looks back, they’re gone, and in their place stands a warrior.

It has to be a warrior.

Beskar’gam covers their limbs, painted brass and gold. Their helmet almost resembles a mask of sorts, the familiar style of a t-shaped visor accented by three bands across the warrior’s chin. The top of the helmet isn’t exactly humanoid, possibly accounting for a species differential. Fox doesn’t flinch at the sight of them, but it is a near thing when they step closer to him.

“Who are you?” He asks, hand drifting down to his holster, fingers closing around air as they snort.

“The Ka’ra was right about you.” The being says, clearly Mandalorian in origin now that it has spoken Mando’a. Fox doesn’t know why he’s dreaming of Mandalorians. 

“Pardon my language but what the kark does that mean?” 

“You, Marshal Commander Fox.” The being starts, and for some reason he sounds smug in a way that makes Fox wary. “Are worthy. The Ka’ra deems you perfect for carrying on our ways.”

Fox tilts his head to the side. He eyes the figure warily.

“Now tell me what that actually means, in basic.” 

-

Fox stares into the mirror of the fresher, his armour stacked neatly on the counter by the sink. He grips the edge of the counter and stares at his own reflection, only slightly mourning the loss of his hair. There, on the sides of his skull, shining a layer of second skin are the words to ‘vode an’ etched into his skin, one side of his head devoted to each verse. Carver hadn’t questioned his request to dig out his tattoo machine, nor did he question things when Fox began to mutter in a language almost as old as Coruscant itself.

Carver did, however, almost drop the tattoo needle entirely when the ink laid into Fox’s skin began to glow as bright as the further star in an empty night sky. 

Coruscant’s history speaks to him, almost as loudly as Kad Ha’rangir, all while the deity stands over his shoulder and watches him through the reflection of the mirror.

“Where do I start?” He asks as his eyes settle on Kad Ha’rangir’s visor.

“The children who are willing.” Kad Ha’rangir tilts their head to the side. “The ones who have already made up their minds.” 

“They’re mine, the ka’ra cannot have them.” Fox hisses.

“For your boon, you must, they have already decided.” Kad Ha’rangir steps closer. Their hand on Fox’s shoulder burns, warmth sinks through Fox’s blacks and feels as though it brands through skin, muscle, deep into his bones..

His gaze flicks back from Kad ha’rangir to himself in the mirror. His eyes shine golden, overtaking the brown that he shares with his brothers, whiting out the rest of him that seems human.

...You should be...

[indierpgnewsletter]

Should the GM make things interesting?

Obviously, yes. But also, no.

Words are great, stay with me.

I was reading an Alexandrian article that was about the – often debated – idea that when players come up with a good plan and the dice roll in their favour, their plan should just work. While a GM might be tempted to force some hitch, some curveball, some twist – some interesting-ness, the Alexandrian (and lots of other people) suggest that you should resist that urge and just let things be simple.

The sense that “something interesting should happen here” is understandable because it’s so often the role that the GM is playing. It comes from stories we know and other games we’ve played, right? There’s no good heist movie where the plan just works out. And probably your favourite gaming session was one where there were outrageous twists and unforeseen consequences. This particularly applies to trad and storygames – cultures that want sessions to feel like a particular kind of narrative or a particular medium, usually a movie or TV show.

Now the Alexandrian has a very trad focus. In the games being discussed, players normally spend a lot of time planning – discussions, debates, dice rolls around investigation and convincing NPCs. Now anyone who has invested all this time will find it pretty fun if their plan goes well. So I agree with the Alexandrian, if the dice fall favourably (rare!), a hitch-less session is great and will be enjoyed by all. And if everyone is already having fun, why would you feel the need to do something more?

If you think that it’s only interesting when sessions have twists and turns, then play something like Blades in the Dark where the idea is that you plan less and fail more. It’s probably a better fit for you because it’s design is in line with how you want to play.

Okay, but what happens when you’re playing Blades in the Dark and the players are just rolling 6s? In a lot of Forged in the Dark games, there’s been a trend towards designing some kind of currency that the GM can spend to introduce twists that is aimed squarely at this problem. I am not a fan of that stuff for two reasons. First, because mostly they’re giving people permission to do things that they already do. Nothing can stop me when I think of something cool to say, nothing! Or to put it more seriously, there’s a reason Apocalypse World says you make GM moves when players look to you. Or when there’s a golden opportunity. Second, even though these games are it’s-only-interesting-when-things-go-wrong games, even though there is minimal planning investment, it is still perfectly fine for a session to have only expected and obvious things happen.

Why? Because the players’ actions are interesting enough. Or at least, they should be.

Games like Blades in the Dark are more or less defined to facilitate players taking only interesting actions. They’re designed around players coming up with outrageous ideas and having the tools to actualize them. Not always succeeding… but at least crashing and burning in an entertaining way.

I think it’s important to think of these games as ones where players are supposed to be able to entertain themselves.

But, you ask, what if the players’ plans aren’t interesting? Well, I say, interesting to whom? If the players’ actions aren’t interesting even to them i.e. they are bored by their own choices, then that’s a real problem. When I find myself in that situation, it either means I’m having an off-day or I’m playing the wrong game with the wrong group. Not a big deal – I’ve been there before, I know what to do (see last week’s post). But it’s not something that can be fixed by a GM. If their actions aren’t interesting to you but are interesting to them, that’s a complicated situation too. But it has nothing to do with games.

So, yes. Should the GM make things interesting? Obviously, yes. But also, sometimes, no.

(This was first published in the Indie RPG Newsletter.)

[talkingparrotkee]

Re: Namor x Shuri working from a storytelling standpoint

I stumbled on a post trying to give an analysis of how Namor and Shuri "don't work" from a storytelling standpoint. After reading several of the objectionable points made and realizing I've seen them all before, I felt like trying my own hand to exemplify why these kinds of criticisms against "Nashuri" don't actually work. I didn't directly reblog to avoid being convoluted or dogpiling, but I'll be responding to specific points throughout.

Direct quotes are in orange

Linked sources and further information are in green

Warning: This article has many layers, musings, and points. After all, it's essentially a master collection of material. If you just want to jump to a certain point, you can. There are subtitles for every point.

The Oxymoron of Improbable and "Non-Sensical" Story Writing

In the context of specifically Wakanda Forever's story and nothing else, yes: as of now, Namor and Shuri being a romantic couple does not make "sense."

However, there is no such thing as a ship that doesn't make sense from a story-writing perspective.

With your pen, reality can be shaped according to your whim, or elements can be bent to fit the mold of a given reality. Story-writing-wise, anything can happen, and anything can work with the proper execution. A good writer knows how to suspend the reader's disbelief and make the seemingly improbable, seem probable.

Namor and Shuri already have the ingredients for chemistry and compatibility as characters, which are the two essential requirements in relationships. The media they're in gives you the room to potentially address their circumstance, like reviving Ramonda (coming back to life is no foreign concept to Marvel) or building off of the concepts already there (e.g., the Ancestral Plane or "dead not meaning gone"). There are also AUs.

Saying otherwise is simply putting a cap on your creativity and demonstrates a sheer lack of imagination.

Why Do People Ship Namor And Shuri?

To answer this question, Namor and Shuri:

Have undeniably strong chemistry. That was the first thing that had people question what their relationship would be. You don't have to register this as inherently romantic, but they have chemistry nevertheless.

Deeply connected with and paralleled-equaled one another. Shuri opened up to only Namor about her true grief. With Ramonda, Shuri closed herself off. When her mask cracked, she lamented that if she sat and merely thought of T'Challa, she'd burn the world and everyone in it. The ancestral plane, tethered to her subconscious and emotional state, lit up on fire the moment N'Jadaka mentioned T'Challa. Yet... Shuri felt that she could be emotionally vulnerable to Namor, seeking solace and answers within him. She could not only think of but also talk about T'Challa with Namor. This is after Namor was, in exchange, completely vulnerable and honest to her, showing her his scars and his cherished nation. Both characters did things they wouldn't do with anyone else. They felt seen and heard by the other. That is a beautiful testament to the bond they were forging before uh, yeah.

Shuri was healing in Talokan. It is directly said in the script Shuri was better than she was before she left, but the movie let it be a "show, don't tell." We already established she was finally unveiling her grief to Namor, but Talokan was also an escape for her. Her behavior and attitude were a sheer contrast to how she was earlier in the movie. Shuri was shown beaming, marveling at, and practically glowing as Namor showed her his world. Approximately, she genuinely smiled 11 times in under 3 minutes. She forgot her worries. The tension rolled off of her and let herself go "with the breeze". Her admiration and sense of wonder made him smile too. She was taken care of, a shame that her reason of stay wasn't preferable.

Shared several purposefully intimate moments.

Look hot and are hot together. Argue with a wall.

Can be the strongest, most unstoppable MCU power couple to date.

Create a rich, ethnic, and main poc ship and representation between a black African woman and a brown-skinned indigenous man. That's not common at all, and the thought of their cultures being connected, becoming one through their union is hair-twirling inducing. The idea of them creating a new era filled to the brim with their respective cultures and identities together, with them learning from one another, is very interesting.

They have many, many classic romantic-fantastical tropes poured into the batter that is their dynamic. You may have heard the comparisons to Beauty and The Beast (say thank you, Riri!), Aladdin ("I Can Show You The World"), Peter Pan and Wendy (Namor is deemed of a "Peter Pan" archetype. "Peter Pan" lost his Wendy, who is Shuri in this case. See Inframundo.) and Hades-Persephone.

The only reason why they're on opposite ends is due to outer forces and unfavorable circumstances at work. There's something interesting about their nuanced tragedy. There's a fun intrigue to find a way to "fix" what seems broken beyond repair, through understanding, love, character development, and healing.

Have a romantic anthem: Con La Brisa is a tender love song specifically created based on the underwater scene between Namor and Shuri. Foudequesh revealed that the meaning of the song was showing someone the sun for the first time.

Additionally, Namor and Shuri having romantic chemistry is not baseless. It was initially toyed with. Though they decided to characterize their relationship a bit differently and focus on grief-shared trauma, elements were still left in to give their relationship complexity. The way they relate and the things they did gave romantic undertones you can't just pluck out. Micheal P. Shawver, a colleague of Ryan Coogler and an editor of Wakanda Forever, said this much when asked about the possibility of Namor and Shuri having romance in their cards.

Note how Ryan Coogler, a writer and director of both Black Panther, even apparently thinks that Namor and Shuri are not unsuited for one another even then.

You can also view the original script where Namor is described as "charmed" and "smitten" with Shuri. It's only natural people pick up the pieces purposefully left behind.

Clarification Notes

Before we jump into this, there are things you need to know.

Note 1: None of this is bashing or permission to bash Ramonda, Riri, Shuri, or Nakia. They were justified and operating under grief and dramatic irony if you look at it from every perspective. Currently, this is just clearing up Namor and Talokan's perspectives because that is what's being targetted and unceremoniously characterized, but everyone has a case for them.

Note 2: This doesn't mean you need to ship Shuri and Namor. It's explaining why some do and clearing up misconceptions about their dynamic as well as individual characters. Your takeaway should be this and valueable information on Black Panther, not a decree of what you should or shouldn't ship.

Positive and Negative Chemistry

"Positive" and "negative" chemistry is confusing terminology at best and doesn't exist at worse. It's either you have or lack chemistry. There are also two different kinds of chemistry: platonic and romantic.

When describing how characters wouldn't be compatible in a given relationship, you may be looking for the term, "compatibility".

Chemistry: magnetism, attraction, and natural connection. Compatibility: a more "logical" component: your degree of harmony and cohesiveness.

You can have chemistry without compatibility, and compatibility without chemistry. Healthy and long-lasting relationships have both.

Namor's view of Shuri

Namor does not view Shuri as an equal, despite their similarities.

Pause. Namor does view Shuri as an equal. Shuri is arguably the person he respects the most.

The idea That Namor-Talokan does not relate, respect, connect with, or even view Shuri-Wakanda as human directly goes against the meta-pillar theme of Wakanda Forever.

You said it yourself:

"these are fictional characters (who represent real-world dynamics)"

“We talked to so many experts and really made relationships with them, because there was a lot to go through,” says Beachler. “There are a lot of parallels between Africans and Latin Americans as far as the colonization of their communities and cities, the enslavement of their people, the lies that were told about their culture, the misinterpretation of their words, and the ways they were made out to look demonized in order to elevate a European country.”

Besides honoring Chadwick Boseman, motherhood, and the dead not being gone, grief, trauma, the effects of colonialism, and the connectivity between African-Mesoamerican indigenous culture are central points of the film. Namor and Shuri and by extension Talokan and Wakanda are explicitly supposed to relate and be equal to one another for this reason. You are supposed to struggle with choosing a side, and Namor is a complex antagonist or even anti-hero rather than an actual villain (An antagonist just opposes or challenges the protagonist in the context of the story, they're not inherently good or evil. Villians are inherently evil and with malice.) Their fight is supposed to feel wrong, intimate, and emotionally charged, unlike most generic action hero fights. They are natural allies, and therefore unnatural enemies.

Namor bent in ways he wouldn't have with anyone else.

This is why it's an in-fandom joke that he was whipped or smitten. What he says on his throne when waging "war", was "Máansa'ab u nej miis tin wich." Josué Maychi confirms that this means, "They passed the cat's tail in front of my face with the hope of an alliance."

"If you see cats, jaguars or panthers when they go hunting they wag their tails because it is a way of hypnotizing the prey, then that image is what happened to Namor, that someone did like that with the tail."

Namor virtually said he was hypnotized, but the Spanish and English translations didn't quite convey that cat-involved metaphor (although keeping the crux of his lament.).

Namor could have killed Riri the moment she touched Talokan grounds, but he showed temporary "mercy" because of Shuri and Shuri alone. He didn't need Shuri's permission nor did he have to communicate with Shuri. Riri was in his domain, Shuri did not really have much power there, yet he treated her as if she did.

"It goes back to the point of him never seeing Shuri as human or recognizing her feelings as valid."

Two of Namor's quotes in the movie alone prove this wrong:

"I know you wanted me to spare the life of the scientist (recognizing and acknowledging what she wants), but now you see what I have to protect."

"So you can understand why I need to kill the scientist."

He didn't need to seek her approval or give her the ability to negotiate with him, yet he did and on top of that dressed her in the finest silks fit for royalty, consistently trying to convince Shuri like her opinion mattered, and that he wanted her on his side. It wasn't that he didn't "recognize her feelings as valid," he just felt that, based on how many of their lives are at stake, he couldn't risk it (Movie quote: "I cannot risk that, princess...").

He was absolutely gobsmacked when she said, "Take me instead." He wouldn't speak then, uncharacteristically breaking eye contact. When he could finally speak, he couldn't answer her directly, his voice awkwardly raised an interval and suddenly, unnecessarily, speaking with his hands.

Shuri wanted to see Talokan, and Namor, the pessimistic isolationist who never let a surfacer step foot in Talokan, immediately caved into her desire. There was no reason for him to do that and it demonstrates an immense level of trust. He also, quite literally, showed her the keys to his kingdom. He waited until she was beside him, looked to see if she was watching him, and then did his hand sign in the rock to open the "doors" to Talokan.

As writer Joe Cole said in The Movie Report panel interview, Shuri demands him to make the right choice that was yielding, and he does yield to her, which wasn't something he'd ever consider in his hundreds of years of being alive.

Namor gives his beloved mother's bracelet to Shuri

Fen was Namor's beloved mother. Her memory is something he held dear to him. The bracelet he gave not only was the last piece of her left with him, but it directly signified his birthright as king, was a priceless national object, and was made with their sacred plant's fibers.

He gives it to Shuri twice. One immediately to hold when he sees she's attracted to it, two he ties on her (after receiving her non-verbal permission, another sign of respect) for her keeping as a "gift of gratitude."

Namor saw his mother in Shuri

Namor saw his mother in her highest state, induced by Shuri. She was unchanged, young, and in their homes, outstretching a hand to him as Shuri metaphorically did.

Namor paints the mural of their fight

in his personal hut no less, where he preserves their history and culture. He paints them entangled in a battle with neither side besting the other. She is the Jaguar-Black Panther, a revered, highly respected animal in Maya culture with connections to godhood, and he is a mere human, humbling himself in a sense. That speaks volumes, and it's furthered when he tells Namora that Shuri had every single reason to kill him. He also speaks very highly of her, stating she's the strongest person on the surface, of the strongest nation.

None of this makes sense AT ALL if he supposedly did not view Shuri as a respected equal, let alone "human." If he somehow doesn't see her as a "human", then he sees her as higher than.

Talokan's "Violence" to Wakanda's "Pacifism"

"Namor and the Talokanil, immediately resort to violence and war when they feel a threat from the surface world. But since no one knows they exist, this threat is hypothetical for now."

This is not true. Talokan has constantly been evasive with relocating being their immediate resort. In the film, Namor says, "Talokan will not move, again" for a reason. They didn't "feel" a threat, there was a threat. People found the Vibranium within their domain and were drilling to seize it. War was a later development after Shuri took killing Riri off the table, which is what Namor initially wanted to do (in the script, this is furthered, with him saying he'd prefer picking off one person to outright war.).

"A direct contrast to Ramonda and Shuri, who in the face of real eminent threats, resorted to peace and showed their aggressors mercy."

Ignoring the insinuation that Namor was not faced with real eminent threats when he was, there is a reason for that contrast. Remember that while Wakanda was being threatened, they have never been conquered or forced to move. They're confirmed less vulnerable than Talokan, who does not have shields and lives in the ocean. They can afford to reveal themselves. Talokan cannot, and they're collateral damage to Wakanda's choice of revealing themselves and the power of Vibranium to the world.

The beginning village of Talokan has been conquered and mass murdered before the rebirth into the blue people we see now, with their ancestral lands plundered and made into slave houses. Namor almost died and was sick in the womb because the conquistadors brought smallpox. His father who he never met died due to their disease. He witnessed countless treacheries, betrayals, and wars from the surface lands. Namor spent his entire childhood watching his mother grieve due to them. As a result, Talokan has a more pessimistic perspective compared to Wakanda's privileged optimistic one.

So yeah, Talokan isn't going to play patty cake with their active aggressors who are trying to plunder them. Nor should they, because Namor is proven right with America actively seeking to destabilize Wakanda under the guise of retrieving Riri (see the meeting Ross has with government officials), and the ending with Val.

Wakanda wants to delay inevitable war and minimize the loss across the board but will go to war if pushed, which is fair. Talokan is tired and ready to give the smoke, striking fast and hard to merely end what threatens them once and for all after centuries of patience and displacement. That is also fair.

"Namor, despite wanting Wakanda’s help with his mission, ultimately doesn’t view Wakanda with anymore sympathy than he does the rest of the world. He has made it clear that he hates the surface world and everyone in it, which includes the Wakandans."

You're right, he doesn't sympathize with Wakanda. There's nothing to sympathize with. He empathizes with them, a stronger feeling and sense of connection than sympathy. He admires Wakanda and feels a sense of kinship, maybe a bit of jealousy (Joe Cole). To him, Wakanda was a threat if they weren't on his side. Why?

A) Wakanda (unintentionally) compromised them by revealing themselves to the world and the power of Vibranium. Now everyone else, armed with that dangerous knowledge, is looking for it to wield it. Wakanda can more or less protect their Vibranium, claiming ownership of it when it's on their lands, they have the power to, and they're the ones who revealed it. But what can Talokan do? They'd be forcefully revealed in some way and be subjected to attacks just because they dared to also have Vibranium.

B) Wakanda is compromising them again by harboring Riri, who is the one source capable of the machine the FBI is currently chasing down. There is no guarantee Riri would stay with them (Riri is not their citizen, and America can easily use her as a means to undercut Wakanda and force them to either give vibranium or fork Riri over, so she can build the machine, and they'll get vibranium anyway through Talokan) or wouldn't rebuild her machine. The solutions Namor could fathom were either taking Riri out of the equation for sure (a case of killing one person and saving everyone else) or taking out the threat of those who seek to exploit her.

C) Wakanda was already shaking hands with nations that wanted to destabilize and plunder them, and will want to do the same with Talokan.

D) Wakanda is the only nation that can rival them that now also knows of their existence. If they're not allies with that information, that's dangerous and makes Talokan vulnerable.

With all things considered and understandably from Namor's perspective, there's no "in-between" here. You can't be "neutral." You either are with them or facilitate your own and their destruction.

This doesn't mean he hates Wakanda or Shuri. It is nothing he wants, but something he perceives he has to do for his people, as their protector, father, god, and king. In the script, this is only further exemplified, by his, "I don’t want it to come to this. But I will not hesitate."

Namor Killing Ramonda

His line of "You are queen now" showed that he was never willing to conduct business with Ramonda likely because she was the only person on the surface world who bested him when she lured him out of Talokan(...). He was simply looking for an excuse to get her out of the picture."

At that point, Ramonda threatened to reveal Talokan. Ramonda purposefully played decoy with him and sent in a war dog to infiltrate their nation and retrieve not only their national threat but the princess who has all of their secrets without a sense of closure. The result of this act was the death of two of his "children". Did you just gloss over that fact, because Ramonda didn't just "lure" him away? He wasn't throwing a fit because he was bested. People literally died? He was cradling a dying child in his arms?

Namor was "willing" to conduct business with Ramonda, proven by the simple fact that he approached Ramonda and gave her the shell to contact him. Namor went out to answer Ramonda's call in the first place when he could've just ignored it when he had what he wanted and more in Talokan.

Namor saying "You're queen now" doesn't at all connect to him not seeing Shuri as an equal. That doesn't make any sense. If anything that undermines your point, because before Shuri is officially crowned, he immediately sees her as the sovereign leader, much like himself.

He says "you're queen now" because Shuri is likely the queen now. It's simple math: Shuri is the heir apparent. There's no royal before her now that is leading.

"It's also another reason why he killed Ramonda with no hesitation despite knowing what he knew about Shuri"

Again, Namor did what he did with no hesitation or care if Ramonda is collateral damage because in his eyes, Ramonda betrayed him, he was acting as a vehicle of vengeance for two souls, and he was defending Talokan. When she stepped in front of Riri glaring him down, that was his final nail in the coffin (no pun intended, please, no pun intended.). It was never personal to him nor did he look at it as him killing Shuri's mom. He was playing the role of a protector and king in conflict with another royal, but of course, it's inherently personal to Shuri because that royal happens to be her mother.

Ryan Coogler confirmed it was not personal for him in the Disney+ movie commentary, Tenoch Huerta says killing the queen was never in his initial plans, and Namor says this himself in the script, explaining he did what he did because the queen "betrayed" him with not only a guard, but a child dying as a result when Shuri was never in danger ("you were safe in my care").

Recklessness With Grief

No, Shuri did not have a better handle on how she externalizes her grief until the final of the movie.

"She recognizes that even though she is angry at T’Challa’s death, the rest of the world doesn’t deserve to feel the extent of her wrath."

That's not at all what she recognized at any point. "It will not be these clothes, I'll burn. It will be the world. And everyone in it."

"Even when Namor does kill her mother, she rightfully directs her anger at him."

At the expense of her people's safety and risk of eternal war. She tells M'Baku straight up that nothing else matters except what she wants, and she wants Namor dead. She threateningly pointed a finger, giving M'Baku no choice and leaving him with the command to help her in her endeavors, even if it meant sending them all to their watery graves.

Nakia: "If you go to war for vengeance, it will not fill the hole left from your loss. It will only grow larger, and it will consume you!"

Shuri: "It already has."

With every blow she landed and exchanged with Namor, we cut back to Wakanda receiving blows and being backed up into a corner.

Namor and Shuri were on collision courses where they were destroying themselves, each other, and their people by not handling their grief properly, being consumed by their vengeance, and committing destructive actions ignited by their pain.

Shuri just later had the strength to break that cycle by recognizing what he said to her back in Talokan ("broken leaders"), their connectivity, and shared traumas. She saved them both and quietened Namor's own flames in the process.

"Sure, she has some outbursts at Nakia and M’baku, but she never really alienates them."

Do not downplay the fact that Shuri is dangerous and was not healthily dealing with her grief, but instead was on a path of destruction. Ryan explicitly states that Namor shares this with Shuri: they're both trying to process and similarly struggle grappling with their grief.

Why else do you think Ramonda took Shuri outside to touch grass and do a ritual? Shuri was not ok. From the moment her beloved brother died, she was not ok. She was not magnanimous to the world. She was angry at it. She thought that there was no point in the Black Panther mantle or herb when T'Challa isn't there. As M'Baku even pointed out, she buried herself in her technology as a coping mechanism, which she ought to stop.

Shuri does alienate Nakia. Not only does she snap several times and harshly shove Nakia off of her after she took the herb, but it's also shown at the beginning of the movie she's ignoring all of her calls. In the script, she explicitly considers Nakia dead, immensely angry she missed T'Challa's funeral.

She doesn't listen to M'baku, but consistently tries to push him and his wisdom away during Ramonda's funeral. She even pushed away and tried closing herself off with Ramonda in the lab and river scene.

Namor's Desire

"All he wanted to do was push her to the extremes of grief so she would become reckless as she was."

Namor's true desire was safety for his people. He didn't want to move again or have to change who they are to survive. Namor later had a genuine desire for an alliance with Wakanda, a nation he canonically admires. Namor didn't want to "push her to the extremes of grief to become like him" because she already was like him. He just wanted to channel their shared feelings of reaping "destruction" to the common enemy.

“I think that a lot of the emotion that I was trying to put into it [Talokan] was this idea that Namor is not wanting to move his people again,” says Beachler. “So there is also, this sense of grieving, even there, of this idea of being encroached upon by humans, who are somewhat inconsiderate of them.”

"Instead you see a mutant emerging not out of genetics, but out of the crucible of oppression. Whereas mutants in the comics are born, in Wakanda Forever, they are made. And that history isn't the side story, it's the entire story. It explains Namor's rage, his desperation, and the path he takes which eventually leads to a collision with Wakanda."

It was never a case of Namor only loving and can love his people while hating everyone else, seeing them as inhuman. Namor was prioritizing what he loved the most above what he may also like, admire, or empathize with. He was fulfilling the role given to him he was forced to take from the moment he was born.

"I mean, “no love” is literally his name."

Let's slow down a bit and mayhaps rethink a little on using the meaning of his alias "Namor" as a point about him being loveless, no? That was a "name" given to him by a racist, slave-owning Conquistador priest who also called him, "son of satan" all the while he was burying his mother, the only and last immediate family he had. Namor took that alias to empower himself and take away the sting. He clearly does have love when all of his life he has been a selfless agent for his people. He thought a single or two lives were worth war over. Yes, he explicitly said it was to convey he had "no love" for the surface, but there is context to that.

"Wanting to destroy the whole world, funny enough, including other Mayan descendants who were enslaved or colonized"

When Namor burned down the Hacienda, slaves ran free. Only the Consquisdators were killed. The village elder relayed that they know of Namor's existence and were able to live with that knowledge. The only ones who died were the ones who sought him out with ill intent. The script also featured the factoid of Namor saving the elder and her husband from drowning on their wedding night, if that's worth anything. In the movie, he doesn't want to include Wakanda in the mix of the nations they're at war with either.

Clearly, he is discriminatory with who he'd kill. Who said he'd include Mayan descendants that were enslaved and colonized? The last time I checked, the only person who said anything about burning everyone was Shuri.

Namor: "It is no longer about the scientist. For centuries, the surface nations have conquered and enslaved people like us. Over resources. Since the day I buried my mother, I have prepared my people for the time they would come for us. And that machine? Is the sign that the time is now. I need to know if Wakanda is an ally, or an enemy. There is no in-between."

Shuri: "So you plan to wage war on the entire world, and want Wakanda to help you?"

Namor: [leans in and nods slightly]

Shuri: "That's madness!"

Namor: "There isn't a nation that wouldn't plunder Wakanda if given a chance. If we make an alliance, we can protect each other by striking them first. Then, when the threat of these nations have been eliminated, the scientist will be returned to Wakanda."

Namor wanting to remove the teeth from the lion's mouth and hitting first isn't the same thing as destroying everything and anything. Mind you, he is being chaotic, but he clearly has a concentrated target. Don't get it twisted.

Namor's Regret

It is suggested that Namor in particular felt regret and dislike for the situation in interviews, script, and in-film.

A) Namor is seen pensively on his throne, touching and cradling the shell phone as he awaits contact.

B) Namor's, "It could've been different."

C) Interestingly, Ryan and Joe Cole corroborated in The Movie Report panel interview, more regret was in every blow exchanged. Namor in particular did not want to exchange a fatal blow until he was pushed to impale Shuri on the rock in a desperate attempt to his life.

Equaling and Relating

Relating to someone is different from equalling someone. Out of all who were listed, whether it was Peter Parker, Riri Williams, or Namor, Namor is the only one out of those that is explicitly and purposefully depicted as equalling and relating to Shuri.

Namor And Shuri

The reasoning given for how Shuri works paired with Peter Parker or Riri Williams strongly applies to Shuri with Namor, so operating under the same logic, they largely work too.

"What makes both of these pairings work to a degree is the idea of them being equal in some regard(...) They clearly see each other as equal. They more or less agree on a common enemy and how to deal with said enemy, with morals and values that more or less align."

They do agree on a common enemy. That's literally half of the premise for Namor proposing an alliance where they protect one another. The problem just was how they go about handling things. Tragedy, trauma, and dramatic irony unfavorably played factors.

Otherwise, they're practically the same, and are now on the "same page". Their morals and values aren't far off either. Wakanda and Talokan are eerily similar, whether it be in having spying channels, an isolationistic approach, finding jurisdiction wherever they feel it (aka, if it regards and threatens them), only wanting to protect what they love, embracing-involving their culture-traditions, being environmentalists, and using defensive-offensive means if provoked by a perceived threat.

In visuals alone, they took great care to portray Shuri and Namor as Parallel Characters.

The "boy without love" and the "child who scoffs at tradition." They do have a few healthy differences (I'll save that for another article), but they are equal and deeply relate.

As said on The Movie Report panel interview, Shuri became the Panther god (the Black Panther is canonically Bast's avatar), while he is the god of his civilization. They're both royals and leaders of their own nations. Said nations are sister nations, both having the power of vibranium and the highest levels of advancement. They are both broken and with a shared trauma etched deep in their hearts. They both have a righteous, divine fire and an acute sense of avenging. They both were haunted by similar grief and pain that pushed them to seek solace in one another.

Namor is described as lonely and with loneliness by Ryan Coogler, and that's exactly how Shuri felt in the beginning as well (see her Interlude), and unfortunately, later in the movie after Ramonda "dies" (but in the end, it's revealed that Ramonda, like T'Challa, is not gone.). They brought innovative technology and a new era of living to their people. They share the same love languages: acts of service and gifts.

There was an entire montage near the end of the film showcasing this.

Riri Williams

Riri Williams relates to Shuri in a sense of being young black women whose intelligence and talents aren't always respected by their elders. They can also relate to their fathers being murdered (if they take a page out of comics for Riri, see Ironheart #9) or the loved ones that taught them what they know being ripped away from them. Maybe they also know about diffusion too as geeks, but it stops there.

Riri, like Peter, is a teenager (19 years old) new to college (the same college Okoye states is the equivalent of a Wakandan elementary school), trying to grapple with her emerging life and school. Shuri is a princess of the most powerful nation and head of Wakandan Technology. She completed the journey of school and became a college assistant at the age of 13. Wakanda Forever was Riri's debut and entry into the game. Wakanda Forever was Shuri, who is already a non-teenaged adult at this point, journeying through her womanhood and immense grief. Shuri is not new to the game, having been in countless wars and accumulated countless experiences Riri has yet to touch.

Throughout the film, Shuri acted as the voice Riri didn't have that Namor would hear, largely due to T'Challa's influence. At the end of the film, Riri invites Shuri to a basketball game. Shuri says no, prioritizing her duties and having a full plate compared to Riri's less uncomplicated, lighthearted one. This alone highlights their differences in placement and mental space.

Big sisters do not "equal" their younger siblings. They guide and protect, having some level of authority and experience over them.

And That's Perfectly By Design

Riri and Shuri are not equals and have noticeable divergences where one cannot ever relate to or feel what the other does. Shuri won't know how Riri feels the need to prove herself as a black woman in a society where black people, black women, are given the shorter end of the stick. Shuri doesn't know anything about how it is for African Americans and law enforcement. Riri won't know the privileges or how it feels like to carry the burdens Shuri does to the extent she does. Riri does not entirely relate to Shuri's grief either. Riri was a fish out of water who constantly wanted to go home despite the beauty and safety in Wakanda. They belong to two different worlds.

It is great that they have these differences because, in the words of Dominque Thorne, they can learn from each other. Their relationship in the film is contextualized as Shuri perceiving Riri as her reflection and then taking on a mentor role. Riri is, in Letitia's words, a reflection of T'Challa's choice. There are several parallels between Riri-Shuri and T'Challa-Shuri. It gives Shuri more of a personal incentive and investment in the outreach program her brother enacted. T'Challa had the connection, learning experience, and realization of the Lost Tribe and their struggles through N'Jadaka. Shuri now has that with Riri, but positively! Riri also can offer a breath of fresh air every now and again, fulfilling the chemistry she had (bubbly, plucky younger one) with T'Challa (the more composed, older, responsible one).

Whether you want to mold and configure this into a romantic dynamic, is up to you. The point is that yes they relate, yes they do have chemistry, but no, Riri and Shuri aren't equals.

Peter Parker

Hypothetically, Peter relates to Shuri in their intelligence (although I'd argue Shuri is smarter, Shuri's probably smarter than everyone), but that doesn't at all suggest they'd have the same interests. It doesn't work like that.

Peter (2001 baby) is younger than Shuri (1997-1998). He is just starting college. Shuri is around 22, 23 years old due to the snap. She was 19, 20 in Infinity War. Peter was 16. It's not a big age gap, but I wouldn't say they're peers. Age proximity doesn't indicate relatability either, especially if the maturity levels and experiences differ.

However, I will say, I think Peter and Shuri can relate to being orphans that do feel lonely (although Shuri lost and later gained family, Peter is left off completely alone), going through personal dark arcs, and suffering immense pain that changes the trajectory of their lives. They used to be more lighthearted, but now were forced to grow up and their perspectives darkened.

That's about it though. They aren't on the same wavelength or of the same caliber when it comes to their types of threats, challenges, and predicaments. Namor could entirely relate with her being another nation of vibranium of a culture the other nations seek to destabilize, destroy, or conquer, as well as someone with a similar depth and sense of grief. Riri could relate as a black woman living in America (lost tribe) who'd know a thing or two about persecution and was thrown into the mix between the Talokan-Wakanda conflict. Peter?

This isn't factoring in their standings either, with Shuri being an heir apparent and leader of the strongest nation on the surface with Peter being "your friendly (and now depressed) neighborhood Spiderman" that occasionally gets thrown outside his payroll.

Peter and Shuri can probably relate and it's easy to assume they'd have chemistry and may do a little chemistry together. But they do not equal either.

In Conclusion

Yes, ship and let ship. These are all great fictional characters with compelling dynamics. Shipping is largely for fun and often depends on the person's taste.

Looking at this from a perspective of a writer and storyteller, there's no such thing as it "not" working or "making sense" unless you have, excuse my language, shit and uninspiring writing.

[swallowedbyfandom]

When Lord Debling questions her about Colin, in that tone of voice that saids he has already made up his mind about the situation something in her snaps. She is so very tired of gentle society and their narrow minds. All of them no matter how worldly or intellectual they consider themselves to be are the same. Easily offended and overly entitled children, the lot of them. This ridiculous pretentious herbivore included.

She does not even bother to justify herself to him. She shall not explain herself to the sheep of this society any longer. She is done with them all. She meets his eyes with her head held high and responds.

"I can see that after speaking with Miss Cowper, a lady who has desperately sought your hand you believe you already have the answer. I will not waste my breath explaining myself to someone so willing to believe the worse of me. Thank you for showing me your true nature before I made a mistake I could not take back. Safe travels, my Lord."

She gives him a graceful curtsy before turning on her heel and walking away. She can feel him watching her as she walks away. She manages not to laugh at the look of sheer disbelief he had worn on his face. It appears no one has ever denied him anything before. She hears him call after her but she does not look back.

Let the whole Ton watch as Cressida scrambles after her leftovers. Let Cressida live with the knowledge that she is his second choice. She can have his hand knowing that he is hers only because Penelope rejected his suit first. She has handed her a hollow victory, Cressida's pride will eat her alive. Never will Cressida rest easy in her marital bed. Penelope knows she will linger between their sheets like a ghost.

Colin Bridgerton gets into her carriage and ruins her night further. His grand confession was of course given to her under the cover of darkness. Where there would be no risk if she rejects him. His declaration is beautiful. As a writer his words are perfect, heartfelt, and almost enough. They do not have the intended effect on her however. If anything his declaration makes one thing clear to her. She does not trust him. He does not respect her.

She lets herself fall to his seduction after all if she is to be a spinster she wants to learn her body enough to bring herself pleasure. That he thinks that entitled him to her hand in marriage is so laughable that she does not even bother to ponder her answer. She politely declines, "No thank you, Colin."

She has her carriage take her home quickly after. She is done with Bridgerton delusion and hypocrisy. She just wants to get her article out and then sleep off this hellish night. She is sure her mother will be angry tomorrow morning but she does not have it in her to care anymore.

She thinks she shall enjoy the rest of this season as a spectator sport before forging documents and running off. She has enough saved up that she can buy herself a cottage and live for at least a good 10 years comfortably with a small staff. That is plenty of time for her to come up with new avenues of sneaky income.

[ak319]

Unveil

(Gp actress x fem reader)

(Scene# 01)

(your name is Fairoz in the story)

Aman Dagon, the enigmatic, handsome and alluring actress that everyone drooled on. Who wouldn't? Her tall height, black soft, silky hair that one desired to touch, including her co-stars but her cold and mysterious personality intimidated them not to. She was famous for her villain roles especially the ones in which she was in a historical drama playing a distraught, arcane yet passionate lover oh, and how can we forget her iconic mafia lady role. It was her debut role that caused the wave of enchantment among women and men. People also know about her softer side for the heroines as she always acted gentlewomanly around them. This caused her female fans to fall in love with her more. She was always surrounded by paparazzi and everyone wanted to know more about her personal life. Her family owned many different businesses which she also took care of when she was not busy doing movies or dramas.

People were more than shocked when they found out that she was engaged. It all started when a fan made a TikTok about a ring on her finger that seemed different from her usual style and that she began to wear on more than one occasion. The internet went wild and even though her PR team was ecstatic to see that, they were tired of seeing and trying to control baseless and atrocious articles. It was after a month that the team was finally instructed by Aman to confirm that she was engaged. Aman didn't have any socials, which had made her fans more agitated as they had little source material to do research from. People were already jealous at her wife and few were genuinely happy for her. Even her co-stars were shocked as Aman's behavior didn't give the slightest hint about her engagement.

The real truth was that this marriage was hell, to begin with.

(2 months ago)

"Aman ma'am -- what? I mean didn't we already decided the amount to be 5 million? How come you are changing this now?" The director, Usama looked at Aman stunned.

"Mhmm , so you are saying you can't do it? Is that it?" Her deep voice , although calm , still sent chills down Usama's back. Not to forget her father was quite influential in entertainment industry.

"I am - sorry but yes , the contract had been signed prior , you remember right?."

"Do you know I can buy this company of yours and actually don't want your money . I didn't have any interest in doing this movie too but .....I did not do it for money or any of your shit." Yes , this is how she talked when she was annoyed . Her die hard fans would refuse to believe that she can be this egoistic but she was , and she was good at hiding it as well.

"But you do know if I sue you for forging a fake contract and paying me less , you will loose everything ....not to mentions my fans , they will make sure you can't do shit after this. So , all of this can be avoided if you hand me over , oops , haha. I meant , give me the hand of that girl you brought on set one day to me in marriage."

Mr. Usama nearly fainted right there. The girl she just talked about was her niece who was still in college. He couldn't believe his ears. Marriage of Fairoz to a woman like her, this is ...a nightmare.

"Earth to my favorite director" Aman snapped her slender fingers in front of his face, startling him. " I know it's hard to digest. That's why I will give you some time to decide and discuss this with your family and by that I mean ......a date for our engagement pronto.."

"She is my niece and what you are asking for is---I am sorry but --not possible."

"Not possible? Mhm. it has been forever since I have heard that word. Or you can say I am not used to hearing it ." She paused to let out a sarcastic chuckle. " Let me give you even a better one, I hate when people say it to me." Making the man gulp with her slow steps cornering him, she continued "I don't get what is impossible about a marriage? Isn't that the best thing you can get in your whole life? Me as your niece's wife. Pft. Never knew you to be so ungrateful."

Usama pondered over her words . Maybe she is right. What if she is a bit arrogant , that is a pitfall of being in the industry. 90 percent of people Usama had worked with are like her. If only focusing on the pros momentarily , the proffer doesn't sound terrible. Especially in the long term. Fairoz , if this goes well , may live a fruitful life. Just like her parents wanted and if Aman is proposing herself that must mean that she likes his niece.

Heaving a breath in , the words "I'll have a talk with my family . Sure." flowed from his lips which made the taller woman smirk.

"I am looking forward to a cordial response." Usama very well knew that she definitely won't take anything other than a cordial answer anyways.

Little did Aman know that the girl she was probing after would change her life in ways she hadn't had the slightest inkling about.

Unveil part 2

[snappedsky]

Borderlands: Skies the Ultimate Treasure Hunter

Skies drops in on Rhys to tell him about her good day, while he's having a bad day.

--

New Tales From the Borderlands Part 1

The Sky Rider drifts lazily through space towards no destination. In its pilot chair, Skies is lounging, her feet up on the console as she scrolls mindlessly through the ECHOnet.

She stops when she sees a new article from Forge’s- one with her name on it.

“Skies the Ultimate Treasure Hunter: The Most Successful Independent Agent in the Galaxy?”

A grin spreads across her face and she spins around in her seat, kicking her feet and giggling madly.

“I have go to show this to Rhys,” she declares and puts the coordinates to Promethea into her auto-navigator. The Sky Rider immediately blasts off through hyper space.

It slows to a stop outside of Promethea’s orbit. Not far away is Atlas’ spaceship headquarters. Skies parks her ship and uses her ECHO device to fast travel straight to Rhys’ office.

“Rhysie!” she sings, sliding across the floor from the fast travel station. “You gotta check out this article! It is the funniest thing-.”

“Skies!” Rhys barks, “how many times have I told you to call before you come bursting in?”

Skies stops and finally notices someone else in the room.

She’s a woman, neatly dressed with brown skin and brown hair tied up into a bun. She’s holding some kind of little gun-looking device and has a very guilty look on her face.

“Oops, sorry,” Skies says, “I should’ve guessed you’d be busy.”

“Wait, aren’t you Skies the Ultimate Treasure Hunter?” the woman asks.

“That’s me,” she replies, beaming proudly. “And you are?”

“Dr. Anuradha Dhar,” she says, “I work in Research and Development.”

“For now,” Rhys grunts, and she withers.

“I’ll just wait outside until you’re all done in here,” Skies says, “try not to get fired, Dr. Dhar.”

“Skies!” Rhys snaps.

“I’m going, I’m going,” she says and quickly trots out the door.