#I don’t think I explained myself very well

[tristansfreezingtheirbrain]

Actually let me talk about this for a second because I have been doing a self prompted character study on Sherlock based on the fact I DO NOT FOR A SECOND BELIEVE HE IS A SOCIOPATH.

And I think the writers of the show know this. It wasn’t an accident on their part, I think it’s very intentional.

Sociopaths are described as having little to no care about other people or their lives, sometimes even not caring about their own, but I don’t think it’s true in Sherlock’s case.

Yes he is antisocial and doesn’t appear to care who lives or dies, but we all know he does care.

What he does, is intentionally dissociates to save peoples lives.

He is right, feelings do get in the way of investigations, the reason he’s so good at what he does, is he’s able to separate himself from what’s going on, which leads me to my point…

I am by no means an expert but I pride myself on my intense love of phycology, and it’s that love that started me on this tangent that currently has its own 3 page essay in a notebook on my shelf.

I think Sherlock Holmes has a kind of dissociative disorder. My evidence:

- mind palace. A thing some people do but, I should point out, is not often seen in neurotypical people, and is also not often seen in sociopaths. The ‘mind palace’ as the show calls it, is often a place someone goes to in their own head to escape situations in which they are stressed or feel in danger. This is not technically how Sherlock uses it, but I’ll explain the connection in a minute.

- when put in situations where he needs to be at the hight of his productiveness, he disconnects all feelings he may have about a case in order to be more efficient.

Both of these things lead me to believe that stress triggers a disassociative state in Holmes.

He also ( SPOILERS!!! MASSASIIIVVE SPOILERS IF YOU HAVENT SEEN THE LAST EPISODE )

Engaged in Confabulation, which is when someone’s brain changes memories in order to protect itself from further stress, which would have been caused by traumatic events.

This is another thing that you see often in people with a dissociative disorder.

I think he has a subset of depersonalization/derealization disorder, which is the closest real diagnosis to what he seems to have.

I’ve also entertained the notion of him being on the autism spectrum, but I’m always careful with that because I have autism and I have a tendency to project so that could just be me relating to him in some ways. And, it’s very well known that autism and dissociative disorders kind of go hand in hand, so sometimes it can be hard to tell if someone has autism, or just a symptom of it, which is what dissociative disorder falls under in that context.

But if I was to say he is on the spectrum, this is why.

-often considered sociopathic ( is not, as I just explained )

- often considered narcissistic ( is not, and if you think he is you seriously overestimate how much he cares about himself and what happens to him. He does care about other people, it’s just hard to focus on things he can’t see immediately in front of him. )

- lack of understanding of feelings

-under/over stimulation

-very in depth knowledge on some things, complete oblivion in others ( unless he deems them important ) ( aka, hyper fixation )

-unable to focus on things he doesn’t care about

-disconnects in stressful situations

-often makes decisions people deem childish ( ex: not helping Mycroft solve a case because of a sibling fued )

AGAIN I AM BY NOOOOO MEANS AN EXPERT- AND I AM NOT CLAIMING TO BE- I JUST FIND THINGS LIKE THESE REALLY INTERESTING!!!

Anyways.

Thanks for coming to my red talk 🙌

He doesn’t feel things that way… I don’t think.

[cowboycherry]

🍒 :; slim pickins

summary!

bf! rafe x chubby! reader. you’ve been seeing the ‘slim pickins’ trend going around, and you beg your boyfriend to do it with you.

inclusions/warnings!

fluffy, fluffy, fluffy!! reading through it, i think it’s a bit rushed?? rafe is a cutie and loves his girlfriend. reader is referred to as ‘baby’ and ‘mama’. slightly suggestive at the end. reader is chubby and NOT insecure bc we love self confidence round in these parts. just a little itty bitty blurb bc i’ve been seeing so many people do this trend and it makes me want rafe to do it w me

word count!

400+

ˏ`୭̥*ೃ author’s note! :; dropping this before i finish editing a request for a sebastian stan fic! super excited for that, but have this fluffy rafe blurb for meantime. (also, i’m making a tag list since i’m going to start writing more, so if you want to be added to that lmk! you can request to only be added to certain fics and such, just lmk what you want, angels.)

i love you, and thank you for being here ♡

“raaafe,” you pout at your boyfriend, tugging on his bicep in a poor attempt to make him stand in front of your propped up phone. “it’s easy! already explained it t’you— you just gotta pick me up and, like, sit me on your shoulder.”

rafe glances down at your hands tugging his arm, an amused smile on his face even though he doesn’t want it to be there. he just can’t help it. “yeah, baby, and i told you that i don’t wanna be in any of your lil tiktoks,” he snorts, but he allows you to pull him in front of your phone.

“but it’s a couple’s trend! well, for the most part,” you hum to yourself, eagerly stepping away to get the timer ready. “okay, the lyrics are ‘a boy who’s jacked and kind’ and you’re just s’posed to lift me somewhere while she’s singing that,” you explain animatedly, definitely rambling more than is necessary.

“uh huh. got it,” rafe nods once, and even though he looks much less enthusiastic than you are, he’s still happy that he’s making you happy.

you start the timer, quickly padding back across the hardwood floor to him and standing in front of him. “three, two…” you count down quietly, more for yourself, and then mouth the lyrics along to sabrina carpenter’s voice.

you’re unable to stop the squeal that escapes you when rafe effortlessly grips your hips, hoisting you up and perching you onto his shoulder like it’s nothing. his hand moves to comfortably rest on your thigh, gently squeezing the flesh there.

the tiktok is done filming, the video playing back on a loop as giggles bubble past your lips- both from being a little flustered by your very attractive boyfriend and from awe that he didn’t seem strained in the slightest. “i didn’t expect for you to do that so easily,” you admit softly, your hand resting on top of his.

rafe scoffs, “the fuck does that mean?” he asks you, but you can hear the playfulness, the teasing in his tone. “think i’m weak or somethin’, mama?” he grips your hips again, but instead of planting your feet back onto the ground, he drops you onto the couch.

“rafe?” you murmur in confusion before shrieking when his fingers start to dance over your ribs.

“can’t believe it. my baby doesn’t think i can fuckin’ lift her,” rafe tsks in mock disappointment. “guess i need to start showin’ you better, huh?” he grins mischievously down at you, leaning in and starting to press kisses from your face down your neck, and you know you’re in for a long afternoon.

© cowboycherry 2025 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize my content. all work is my own, and until further notice, will be proofread by only myself.

[aleniaaa]

"Plan B" Rafe Cameron x JohnB's!sister!reader SMUT

summary: Maya Routledge finds herself stuck with Rafe Cameron in Barbados.

warnings: age gap (18-21), unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!), guns, violence

a/n: hey y'all bit longer than my usual fanfics; please repost if you like it :** kisses on y'all's foreheads

words: 3,9k

After being transported from the so-called "Poguelandia" to Barbados, I decided to make a run for it. I had to get away from the Pogues. Even though I was a Pogue by blood, I never truly felt like I belonged with them. My dad didn’t care much for me or my brother. He was always obsessed with finding treasure, chasing after some fairytale fantasy. When I saw those same legends starting to get into my big brother’s head, I realized how much he had changed. His obsession, along with his girlfriend Sarah, made me think that maybe they had both lost it.

Escaping from them wasn’t too difficult, not with the chaos and noise of the city. I found myself walking through a market, trying to steal some fruit—honestly, it was the only skill I’d ever learned from my dad. But out of nowhere, someone grabbed me from behind. I felt a hand clamp over my mouth, silencing any attempt to scream. I was helpless, and no one came to help. The more I struggled, the more I felt myself slipping away. Soon, everything went black, and I drifted off into unconsciousness.

When I woke up, I was no longer in the market. I was in a strange, well-furnished room. But what struck me first were my clothes—I was now wearing a beautiful red silk dress. Panic surged through me. What was going on? Anxiety gripped me, and I froze in fear, unable to move. My mind raced, but all I could think was, "This isn’t how I’m going to die." After a moment of sheer shock, I forced myself to stand and rushed to the door. I yanked on the handle with all my strength, shouting, "HELP! PLEASE LET ME OUT!" But there was no response.

I went to the window, desperate for any hint of what was going on. All I saw were fields stretching for miles, nothing but endless grass in every direction. I collapsed onto the bed, trying to think of how I could escape this place. As if on cue, the door opened. A man, armed and speaking in a foreign tongue, gestured for me to follow him. I had no choice but to obey, my legs trembling beneath me.

He led me to a large living room where I was confronted by a man who looked like he belonged in charge. "Hello, Miss Routledge," he said, his voice smooth and controlled. "I apologize for the inconvenience of your trip here, but the circumstances left me no choice. Please, sit." He gestured toward a chair in front of him, and as I hesitated, he introduced himself. "I am Mr. Singh."

I glared at him. "What do you want from me? Let me go!" My voice trembled, but I couldn’t hold back the anger.

"You see, Miss Routledge," he began, his Caribbean accent thick and authoritative, "you have something that belongs to me. And I would greatly appreciate it if you returned it to me."

I shook my head, confused. "I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t have anything."

He smirked, his eyes narrowing. "Now, Miss Routledge, I know you’re lying. And do you know what I despise the most? Lies." His tone grew colder.

"I’m not lying! I don’t know what you’re talking about!" I protested, my heart pounding in my chest.

"The diary," he said, his voice sharp. "I know you have it—or at least, you’ve had it. Where is it?"

It clicked. He was talking about that treasure-related diary John B had been obsessing over. I wasn’t interested in any of that. "Look, if it’s about that nonexistent treasure, I don’t have it, and I don’t want it. You should talk to my brother, not me. He’s the one obsessed with it," I explained, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Very well," Singh said with a cold smile. "Take her away."

Before I could react, two guards grabbed my arms, dragging me aggressively toward the door. I kicked and screamed, trying to break free, but it was no use. As they pulled me away, I heard Singh's voice behind me, calm and sinister. "Even if you don’t have what I’m looking for, maybe you’ll still serve as bait."

The door slammed shut, and my heart sank. I had no idea what was coming next.

I was lying on the bed, trying to process everything, when I heard the door creak open. To my surprise, the last person I expected to see walked in: Rafe fucking Cameron, dressed in a sharp suit. He froze when he saw me.

"What are you doing here, May? Are you trying to ruin my deal?" he snapped. I blinked, momentarily thrown off guard. Rafe was the only one who ever called me "May"—everyone else always called me Maya. For some reason, he liked to shorten it. There was something in his tone—anger, annoyance—something that made me uneasy.

"What the hell are you talking about? I’m literally kidnapped here!" I shot back, my confusion rising. "How the hell did you even get here?"

He looked at me like I was the crazy one. "What do you mean you’re kidnapped? I’m here to close the sale of the cross." His voice was calm, but I could tell he wasn’t lying. My suspicion that he was behind this situation faded a bit.

"Yeah, some pilot found us on a deserted island, and it turns out he’s mixed up in all this. He wants some diary my brother has and is trying to use me as bait," I explained quickly.

Rafe sighed, rubbing his face. "Jesus Christ, you Pogues always try to get your hands on things that don’t belong to you."

I felt my anger rise. "Hey, I’m not like them, okay? I didn’t ask for this, and I don’t give a damn about any treasure! So don’t talk to me like that."

He took a deep breath, as if trying to calm himself. "Alright, listen. I’ll talk to this guy and try to make a deal. You stay here, and be good. Afterward, I’ll figure out a way to get us out of here. Sound good?" He pointed at my face, making sure I was listening.

I nodded, and he left. Rafe was gone for about 25 minutes, meeting with the man. When he returned, I could see the worry in his eyes.

"And?" I asked, eager for answers.

"Ugh, we’re in deep shit," Rafe muttered. "He thinks I’m after the treasure, too, and offered me some shady deal for the cross."

"What about getting us out of here?" I pressed.

"Yeah, Plan B," he said, looking serious. "They won’t let us go. We’ll have to break out or something. Listen carefully. There’s one guard outside the door. You need to get his attention, and I’ll hide. Once he comes in, I’ll grab his gun and take him out, alright?"

I nodded, feeling the tension building. Minutes later, I screamed at the top of my lungs, "Help!"

The guard didn’t waste any time. When I went silent, the door opened, and he stepped inside, gun pointed toward me. "Hey, what’s going on here?" he called out, walking in the direction of the bathroom.

That’s when Rafe sprang into action. He lunged at the guard, landed a punch to his face, grabbed the gun, and then slammed his elbow into the guard’s stomach for good measure. The guy went down hard, unconscious before he could even react.

"Okay, follow me." Rafe led the way, taking out a guard on the way out. I placed my hand on his back, trying my best to stay calm despite the fear bubbling inside me.

"I’ve got a boat at the port that can take us to OBX," Rafe said, glancing back at me. "I can drop you off anywhere you need." His offer was a surprising shift from the usual cold, distant Rafe I knew. It was a kind gesture, and for a moment, I felt a flicker of something warmer.

We climbed into a truck loaded with hay, both of us relieved to have escaped. Rafe leaned back against the wall of the vehicle, a small smile creeping onto his face as he glanced at me.

"You know, May, I never took you for a Pogue. You're better than them," he said casually.

"Thanks," I replied, unsure of how to react. The truth was, Rafe had always been my secret crush, the one no one knew about. But because he was a Kook and I was a pouge, I never let myself think of anything more.

Hearing him say that, though, made me feel almost equal to him for a moment. It was nice, in a way, to know he saw me differently.

When we arrived at the port and boarded his yacht, Rafe was busy preparing it for the journey ahead. I watched him for a moment, and after a while, he noticed my gaze.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Like what?" I replied, a little taken aback.

"Doesn't matter," he said with a chuckle.

As the yacht sailed, the quiet between us stretched until Rafe broke it with some small talk. "So, how's school? You're a senior, right?"

"Yeah, it's alright," I answered. Rafe was 21, and I was almost 18, so he was already done with school.

"You want something to drink? It's gonna take us about two days to get to OBX," he offered.

"Sure, what do you have?" I asked.

"Whiskey, wine, beer, or water," he said, glancing at me.

"Beer would be great, thanks," I replied.

He handed me a cold beer, and as the sun started to set, we spent the evening talking. After a few beers, I started feeling the effects, my head spinning just a little. Rafe seemed to be handling it better, even though he had been drinking too.

"You know, I had a pretty big crush on you back in the day," I said, laughing lightly.

"Really?" he asked, a little surprised.

"Yeah, I used to look for you around school," I admitted, feeling a bit embarrassed.

A moment of silence passed, and then Rafe turned toward me, his expression softening. "I didn't know that," he said quietly. He leaned in a little, and for a second, the world seemed to slow. He looked into my eyes and kissed me. Lightly grabbing my face, deepening the kiss.

I reached my hand to unbuckle his belt. My underwear was soaking and I was ready to take him. Before that I had slept with my now-ex-boyfriend but he didn't make me feel so horny as Rafe in that moment. I don't know if the alcohol made me this confident but I sat on top of him, straddling his crotch. I felt his arousal on my ass. I continued kissing him and his hands were exploring every inch of my body.

Slightly squeezing my boobs, pinching my nipples through the dress, stroking my back. I unbuttoned his cotton shirt and started placing small pecks on his refined abs. "Wait" he suddenly stopped me "I didn't bring condoms" he looked at me with concern.

"Fuck it, I don't care." I said quickly. I was too aroused to stop now. His hand slid under my dress and found my panties. One of his fingers slid inside me and I let out a small moan. With his fingers pumping inside me I took his pants off massaging him through black pair of boxers. When he felt I was close to orgasm Rafe withdrew his hand and pulled me in for a kiss. Meanwhile I took out his cock and palmed it. He was moaning. "Shit, May" I lined his dick with my entrance and slowly lowered myself on it.

I grabbed his torso to steady myself and when I adjusted to his large size I started rocking my hips back and forth. "Ohh Rafe You feel so good." I was breathing heavy and my vision started to blur from pleasure. "You make me feel so good Rafe. If I knew your dick was so good I'd make a move sooner." I felt his finger circle my clit.

I picked up the pace and started moving my hips faster. "Fuck May I'm so close right now." He painted and I felt his dick twitch inside my coochie. I squeezed him and cummed, leaving a white ring around him.

Soon after he also came and I felt his warm release. I rode out the last bits of his orgasm and got off him, laying next to him trying to steady my breath and heartbeat.

"Damn John B would freak out if he knew I fucked his little sister." he smiled with his eyes closed. I playfully smacked his chest laughing with him.

[atlanticum]

A rundown of my favorite "The Queen of Nothing" moments<33333

• Does he have a new seneschal? Does he have a new lover? <…> Does he talk about me?…

• “Love is stupid. All we do is break one another's hearts.” I feel like Jude agreed with Heather at that moment:/

• “You,” I say to my twin. “Get out.” YOU GO GIRL

• “Locke is dead” LADIES AND GENTLEMEN THIS IS THE MOMENT WE’VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR

• The very thought of being there, of seeing Cardan, speeds my heart. Oh juuuuude

• "I knew you liked her," says Locke. "That's why I had to have her first. Do you remember the party in my maze garden? How I kissed her while you watched?" "I recall that your hands were on her, but her eyes were on me," Cardan returns. I FUCKING LOVE THIS

• "I loved him." "Sometimes I believed that you did, yes," Cardan says absently. AND THE FACT THAT HE KNEW IT WAS JUDE

• "Jude never loved Locke." "She loved someone else. He's the one she'd want dead.” —or in her bed who knows;)?!

• WHEN CARDAN SAYS HE’LL “EXAMINE” HER ALONE IN HIS CHAMBERS. Naughtyyy boy;)

• “Well, didn’t you get my letters?” “What letters?” THIS LITERALLY RIPS MY HEART OUT AND TEARS IT TO SHREDS

• "Jude, you can't really think I don't know it's you. I knew you from the moment you walked into the brugh." *Crying, screaming, throwing up*

• When Cardan tries to explain the exile to her and that it was all a trick that she was supposed to figure out and be proud of him, but he doesn’t have enough time… :(

• I am the Queen of Elfhame. Even though I am the queen in exile, I am still the queen. And that means Madoc isn't just trying to take Cardan's throne. He's trying to take mine.

• The fact that even when The Ghost betrayed her, when Jude found him she still wanted to save him!!! SHE’S THE BEST

• I'm not going to let myself get distracted by letters I never received or the way he looked at me when we were alone in his rooms or my father's theories about his weaknesses. I’m a tad speechless…

• WHEN THE ROACH COMES TO SAVE HER WITH CARDAAAAN!!! AND FOR HER HE LOOKS EVERY INCH A SPY FROM THE COURT OF SHADOWS

• “That boy is your weakness” OH WOW stupid Madoc is right about one thing. SHOCKER.

• Let Cardan not be shot. Let the Ghost be clumsy. Let me get inside easily. Let me stop him.

I do not pause to ask myself why I am in such a panic to save someone for whom I swore I rooted out every feeling. I will not think about that. Oh, sweetheart.

• “Do not touch her. She is my wife," Cardan says, his voice carrying over the crowd. “The rightful High Queen of Elfhame. And most definitely not in exile." CHILLS. literal chills.

• Cardan stands over me. <…> His white sleeves are rolled up, and he’s washing my hands with a wet cloth. My gods, i’m dying, he cares about her so much

• (about the gown)>> It is perhaps too plain for a queen, but Cardan is extravagant enough for both of us.

• “And the next thing we know, the High King is on our doorstep looking ready to tear down the whole apartment complex to find you” AAGHAHAHA I LOVE HIM

• “It was terrifying watching you fall. I mean you’re generally terrifying, but I am unused to fearing for you. And then I was furious. I am not sure I have ever been that angry before”

• “I was afraid of you when I had a knife to your throat” this tore my heart open

• “This is my room” he points out, affronted “And that’s my wife”. FUCK YEAH “So you keep telling everyone” the bomb says AAAHAH LOVE HER

• “Oh, I don’t know,” I say “Maybe he’d like to hear me scream”. oh he would “I would” Cardan says “And perhaps one day I will” I’M FOLDED.

• “Unlike Locke, I never thought love was a game” he says “You may accuse me of much, but not that” oh boy

• “I offer my queen’s hospitality. The hospitality if knives” ah, yes, badass jude

• “You looked like a knight jn a story tonight” I’M ON MY KNEES CRYING. THIS IS TOO CUTE.

• “By you, I am forever undone” I AM SCREAAAAMINGGGGGG

• “My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned”

• “It’s you I love” he says “I spent much of my life guarding my heart. I guarded it so well that I could behave as though I didn’t have one at all. Even now, it is a shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous thing. But it is yours” ABSOLUTELY MELTINGGGGG

• I can’t believe he said that and then just walked out, leaving me reeling. I am going to strangle him. I adore her

• When the bomb hugs her once they see each other, when Cardan was turned into a snake.

• “Please. I will do whatever you want. I will give up the crown. I will make any bargain. Just please fix him. Help me break the curse” im gonna cry

• I was happy, just before everything went so terribly wrong. This is gut wrenching

• They won. Everything was going to work out. AND HE LOVED HER

• “I would settle for even his worst self, his cruelest trickster self, if only he could be here” THIS IS ENEMIES TO LOVERS AHAAHAHA

• The Ghost’s eyebrows rise, and he glances at me. I grin.

• Like the whole thing how the Roach is telling the Bomb that he loves her is hilarious and super cute.

• The way Jude thinks that she can never tell Cardan how she feels is so sad. If Holly black had actually killed him off I would have died with him.

• “With my whole heart, I wish Cardan was here” she is longing for his annoyance I CANNNOT

• WHEN NICASIA TOLD HER THAT HE SENT THE GOWN I WAS SCREAMING MY GODSsss “He never told you, did he?”

• “And I saw the way you used to look at him when you didn’t think anyone was watching you” AAAH YESSS

• He’s every bit as terrifying as any serpent. i don’t care. I run into his arms. IM ON THE FLOOR SOBBING

• He holds me as though I am the only solid thing in the world. im absolutely dead in the best way possible

• “You don’t want me dead” “If you joke about this, I am going to—“ “Kill me?” I think I might hate him after all Thin line between love and hate, right Jude;)

• “I knew little else, but I always knew you” MY HEART IS EXPLODING

• And when he kisses me, I feel as though I can finally breathe again. MY HEART SQUEEZED IN THE BEST POSSIBLE WAY

• When Cardan silences Randalin when he interrupts Jude. You tell them KING

• THEY’RE CELEBRATING THAT THEY GOT MARRIED YEYYYYYYYYY

• When Cardan adjust his crown and she rolLs HeR eYeS and HE GRINS.

• To family and Faerieland and pizza and stories and new beginnings and scheming great schemes. I can toast to that.

i’m absolutely in love with these series🤍

[libelula202]

I’m rewatching Numb3rs, a 2005 series about a mathematician helping his FBI Agent brother solve crimes.

And I’ve been thinking a lot of Jewish representation in media, what with the world being what it is right now.

Numb3rs stars Rob Morrow, David Krumholtz, and Judd Hirsch.

All three of whom are Jewish IRL.

Up until this point, the family’s religion has not been spoken about. Obviously the audience knows that all 3 men are Jewish IRL-but nothing has been explicitly talked about in the show.

I recently watched the season 3 episode Provenance, where a Jewish family has a claim to a painting stolen by the Nazis.

There is a scene where Don (Rob Morrow) asks his brother Charlie (David Krumholtz) why their family was never religious. Charlie shrugs and doesn’t really have an answer.

The story line continues, and is concluded when the family gets the painting back. And there is a beautiful scene where the song Hallelujah plays behind the family matriarch, as she holds the painting and reminisces about her family, who were all killed during the Shoah.

It ends with Don talking to his dad (Judd Hirsch) about using his FBI access to try and find any surviving extended family members. 

And it just struck me, that they never say their family is Jewish. The audience is just expected to know.

Their last name is Eppes (in the show), and of course we know these actors IRL are Jewish. But that’s all we know until this episode.

I just thought it’s so different to current times. The audience isn’t expected to be shocked that they’re Jewish, it’s just treated as a fact.

Yes, they’re Jewish.

Full stop.

No explaining, no “well I’m Jewish” moment in the dialogue.

Just an acknowledgment that this story hits close to home for them.

And then we move on.

——

I am not Jewish. I don’t know if I’m qualified to say if this is good representation or not.

But as a goy, I appreciated that I was expected to know this.

It feels like a flip of the normal culturally Christian USAmerican media script.

I don’t get explicitly told their religion, I’m just supposed to use context clues and figure it out myself. No explanation, no being force fed the answer.

It’s just a fact.

They are Jewish.

(Also I like that this is a s3 episode. Doesn’t feel forced this way.)

[chenouttachen]

how alan spends the aftermath of… everything… speaks volumes about his relationship with jeff.

after losing a loved one and going through all that he did, it would be so easy for alan to throw himself into work at the garage. it’s always been his baby, his joy, and he’d be surrounded by reminders of way and the memories they shared. it would also be natural for him to surround himself with pack family, but he doesn’t do either of these things.

he stays at jeff’s house. they don’t stay at alan’s, which has always been the safe house for them all. no, they stay at jeff’s tiny condo. and he stays there for days, curled up in jeff’s bed, not seeking anything or anyone else.

not only is this a pretty apt portrayal of the emptiness and despair that often comes with grief, but also the desire to spend as much time with the people closest to you, while you can.

understandably, he wants to be close to the man he loves after going through something so awful. he wants to stay wrapped in a bubble where the two of them are safe and secure and untouchable. he loves jeff so much he can’t bear to be apart from him.

but what really gets me, is that alan and jeff have clearly reached a new level of intimacy in their relationship.

jeff is such a private person who has been so closed off for so long. he’s been hesitant to touch alan, to get too close, but now it’s different.

despite knowing all of jeff’s reservations, alan is unflinchingly comfortable in his lover’s space. he never once apologises for taking up jeff’s time or room or energy. not only does he love this man, but he believes in the love jeff has for him too. he doesn’t see himself as a burden to jeff, because he knows that the younger man wants to take care of him. he knows that jeff wants him to feel safe and warm and loved. and he does.

[candyheartedchy]

So uh… I might end up with a live action f/o…

[perdvivly]

There’s a common critique of The Kingkiller Chronicles that says the main character (Kvothe) is over powered and this makes the conflicts uninteresting to read because Kvothe will always do something exceptionally clever and resolve whatever problem he comes across by being a super genius with few to no character flaws.

Examples usually cited include his admission to the university at an exceptionally young age and receiving the first ever scholarship. Or his admission into the arcanum and the showing up of his overly arrogant teacher. The list goes on.

And this seems to me to be such a tremendously poor critique it’s absolutely mystifying that it’s been made so many times. And made by people who I think in other contexts show themselves to be astute and good faith readers. It fundamentally misunderstands the very obvious point of any of the scenes they like to cherrypick. In my mind it misunderstands the point of the entire book itself.

Rothfuss’ world-building involves two primary magic systems, one very hard magic system (sympathy) and one very soft magic system (naming). And if you’ll forgive a vibic associative sort of description here, these are supposed to roughly correspond to a type of analytic intelligence and a type of thoughtful wisdom respectively.

It is important to note that Kvothe is portrayed as exceptionally talented at the analytic type of hard-magic and not particularly talented at the more reflective soft-magic.

This is an important feature to keep in mind when you look at the sort of story Rothfuss’ is trying to tell. His writing has a sort of recursive quality. The story is a frame narrative, it’s a story within a story, and often there are stories within the stories within the stories. It seems rather obvious that Rothfuss has in mind the power of thoughtful deliberateness, the power of thoughtfully chosen words, and it seems rather obvious too that he’s showing us a failure case of this. Kvothe’s story isn’t wish-fulfilment Mary Sue fantasy. It’s a tragedy. It’s how you end up old and alone and regretting your life story. The protagonist is reckless, arrogant, and mentally agile in a way that gets him off the hook in situations that might seem short-term unpleasant to be in, but would otherwise serve as valuable learning experiences.

Kvothe is unable to see the value of things that his teachers say are difficult or impossible to fully explicate. He is insistent that his own mental prowess is sufficient to overcome any surmountable obstacle. He’s brought up short several times, he’s asked to describe love, or music, and he blusters on seemingly unaware of his own incompetence.

There’s an analogy to Hamlet to be made. Kvothe’s hamartia is the obverse face of the Danish Prince’s, he never stops to think, he just acts—and disaster follows.

The scene where Kvothe is admitted into the university at a young age and given the first ever scholarship is a good example of this actually. How did he manage to accomplish this? He cheated. He broke into the admissions hall and spied on other candidates taking the entrance exam and memorised the questions the examiners asked and their model answers. This is explained in the very next passage to him taking the exam, but I guess people making the critique found it egregious enough that they put the book down before reading on to that part.

Kvothe sacrifices long-term deep understanding of the world for short-term gain. He uses his analytic faculties to try to game the system. And we know, as he says at the very beginning of the story, that he will eventually suffer for it.

None of this is to say that Kkc is beyond reproach. There are very legitimate criticisms to be made about its representation and treatment of women. It’s just that people so often want to make a critique of it that misunderstands it so badly it makes me think they should read it. The force of the book is directed to people who would misunderstand it in this way… But it’s difficult to explain that to someone who is trapped in that sort of misapprehension.

[seventh-district]

.

[kavehater]

“In general I find the idea of being with a man disgusting but I don’t find it disgusting with him”

- spoken by a lesbian

[songtwo]

idk i think my bf might be developing a drinking problem and i just don’t know what to do��..

[citranova]

this blog is my journal now, i no longer care to maintain some form of facade with a queue and not venting like i want to

i’ve never been this low in my life. i have bpd and am quite dependent on my relationships with my loved ones and i just went five days without talking to anybody other than my FP. that’ll sound like nothing to most people but i’ve never done that in my life. i’ve always had some sort of communication or other. and i’ve kept trying to force myself out of this depression and it’s just caused burnout and resentment to the people who refuse to understand my situation. i can’t keep going like this and forcing myself to be around people when i dont feel able, but on the other hand im then left with debilitating anxiety that people are going to hate me for putting myself first for once. i’ve always taken care of myself where i’ve been able to during my path to recovery, but learning that means taking a step back from most connections is really hard. over the last two days ive messaged a lot of friends of varying closeness just to be like “hey it’s not you it’s me” and i really need to stop because like. i shouldn’t be apologising that me dealing with being suicidal means i need to be quieter. idk.

[moriphyte]

just debated a zionist at work i need a fuckin smoke

[sawruhh]

okay so

[housewifebuck]

ok but why do you have SO MANY CATS

It is so so so funny that people are asking me this bc of that picture when that isn’t even a fraction of the number of cats in my house rn

[nightly-ruse]

I think I may be a little odd