#and any other writer I met was like 'oh this kid wants to write i better give a little word of wisdom'

[topazadine]

Remembering Perspective When Writing Descriptions

Just a short pet peeve of mine, inspired by a shower thought, where I remembered the most terrifying description I'd ever read.

It wasn't bad, or even horror. It was well written.

However. The POV character described his *sister* in a way akin to this (my recreation, not the actual text):

Braden met his sister at the gate. They'd been apart for several years, and in that time, she had truly become a woman. Her curves had filled out, and her red silk dressed strained across her tight figure. Her long black curly hair shone in the late evening light, while her blue eyes watched him intently.

No, this wasn't a brocon thing. The (male) writer was just horny for his female character and ... kinda forgot that his MC, her brother, would not feel the same way.

Now, of course siblings growing up together are going to notice the other one maturing, but it's not going to be ... that. This is how I describe 17-year-old Uileac looking at his little sister, 13-year-old Cerie, in 9 Years Yearning:

She'd shot up in height this past year - almost as tall as him, to his dismay. Whatever they were feeding her in the meronym was quite good for her metabolism, as she'd put on a bit of healthy weight. Her cheeks were losing their baby roundness, and the autumnal light accentuated the sharp intelligence behind her green eyes.

In this description, you can feel Uileac's paternal attitude toward his little sister. "Oh, she's put on a bit of weight and isn't a total twig anymore! I'm glad they're feeding her well. Her face looks more adult. Fuck, she's almost as tall as me now ... I wish I weren't so goddamn short ...."

This is a much more normal way for siblings to talk about each other, if a bit more "dad mode" than the typical older brother.

Siblings who grew up together are not going to say "holy shit I can really tell my sister has become a woman, wow her dress is tight over her curves." If my brother had said that about me while we were kids, I'd throw up and dump a pot of soup over his head.

This kind of thing is generally accidental and has to do with how *you* feel about a character. But the thing is that even the sexiest femme fatale is just going to be Jennifer, The Stupid Annoying Sister, to their sibling. Our brains are literally wired not to see our siblings as sexy if we grew up with them.

There are many other ways that you must take perspective into consideration when writing descriptions. Here are just a few of them.

Sexual attraction/orientation

You're going to focus on different things if you're sexually attracted to someone; namely, you'll focus in on things like breasts, legs, abs, etc. You'll also likely devote more attention to describing people of your particular sexual orientation than you would one that you are not attracted to, and you will focus on different things.

This is part of why we hate "men writing women:" they describe every woman as if they want to fuck them. (See the first example.) It has to do with the places that their gazes naturally linger on any woman, which is what they consider important and what they focus on.

But the thing that they miss is that just because we are sexually attracted to a specific gender does not mean we would want to bang anyone of that gender. I am a lesbian, but the way I would describe my mom or my therapist is vastly different than how I would describe a woman I am actually attracted to.

Romantic interests should get a more sexualized gaze; not exploitative, just more in-depth, and with more focus on their figure, specific details, etc. Everyone else should get a more basic look at eyes, hair color, height, build, and so on.

Feelings about a particular person

You're going to be more forgiving and complimentary toward someone you care about than someone you hate. Things that would be charming on a friend will be downright annoying on that one asshole at work who always throws projects to you at 5pm on a Friday.

A lover's thick eyebrows might be called "dashing" or "strong," while on an enemy, they'd be "overbearing" and "harsh." Your bestie's lisp is cute, while it seems babyish on your school rival. Your dad's meandering sentences give him a sense of harmless musing, but they make someone else look like an idiot.

If you have a character that is prejudiced toward a given group, they are always going to describe that group more harshly than they would a favored group. If they don't like authority figures, a police officer leaning toward them will seem menacing, when they wouldn't even notice it otherwise.

It can be very fun to give two characters similar traits but describe them differently based on the POV character's perspective of them. Readers might not even realize that it's the exact same physical feature!

Previous experiences at a given place

When describing settings, we're going to give more attention to somewhere we care about, like our home. I imagine you can tell me about every chip in the paint in your bedroom, or that one weird stain in the floorboard that you've tried everything to fix. Many times, this is a good time to add depth to the character's backstory by briefly mentioning previous occurrences there.

Would you notice any of those things about a place you're visiting for the first time? Probably not. You'll give a more global attention to the scene and provide impressions, not specifics.

Depending on how nervous or adventurous you are, you'll look for similarities or differences to things that you're accustomed to. You might compare it to other places you have been, trying to get a frame of reference.

If you're on a vacation and were really looking forward to coming to this specific spot, you will likely hone in on exactly what you came to see, whether that's the scene from a particular hilltop or a cafe, and this will get the most description.

Current Mood

Descriptions change with a character's mood, even if they've been in that place a millions times. People just notice different things depending on their mood; if they're happy, they'll look for things that support that mood, while if they're upset, they're pointing out the negatives.

For example, consider someone walking into a court room when they are on trial versus when they are there as a simple court reporter. The person on trial is probably going to be glancing longingly at the door, picking out the angry faces of observers (or assuming the observers are angry), focusing attention on the security guards, staring at the plaintiff with hate in their eyes.

The court reporter will likely pick out anyone they know in the room before looking at anything else. Then, they'll check out the defendant and plaintiff with idle curiosity. Since they are more familiar with the room, they'll gloss over the boring details that they have already seen a million times, giving them only a cursory once-over to see if anything has changed.

Current Need

Your character's objectives need to taken into consideration as well. As an example, remember the last time that you really needed to pee while you were out. Were you slowly and casually admiring the scenery? No! You were hunting for the bathroom. If literally anything registered for you, it was anything that looked vaguely bathroom-sign-shaped. Everything around that bathroom sign, and on your path toward the bathroom, got more attention and description to you than anything else.

Your character's interests

When describing a scene, you don't need to take time and define every single little thing in a character's path. It's annoying and overwhelming. You need to give us a basic overview (it's a forest, it's a grocery store, it's an abbatoir) and then hone in on the specific details that your character finds interesting in order to fill out the entire scene.

We, as people, focus on things we care about, things that we feel are relevant to us. Different people will notice completely different things when they walk into the same room. An animal trainer will appreciate a big pet bed and an ergonomic food bowl. An artist will admire the artwork on the walls. A computer nerd is going to roll their eyes at the scuffed-up Mac laptop.

This doesn't mean that you can't describe other things, too; it just means that your character's attention is going to be drawn to stuff that they, in particular, like or dislike.

Things like where a character's gaze lands, how they describe things, and how much detail they give to any particular element are an important part of secondary characterization: how we get to know a character beyond what they do or tell us. It helps to create a fuller picture of their relationships, their interests, and their thought process, and it deserves just as much attention as actions and dialogue.

If you enjoyed reading this, perhaps you'll consider purchasing my book, 9 Years Yearning. No weird sibling vibes I prommie

[thissying]

Any max lore you wish fic writers knew about?

Hi! This turned out to be so much more and yet so much less than you probably wanted to know! If anyone feels like adding on or if you have specific questions, go ahead.

I'm not sure why you chose me for this but let me (finally) give it a go. I have to say though, that it's been ages since I've read fic (time issues and I've had my own one on my mind and I've deluded myself into thinking I will actually write it and I can't read fic because then I will lose the tiny bit of confidence and incentive I may have) so I'm not sure I know Max lore that is commonly missing from fic or that writers don't know about and should. So I'll just throw some things out there.

There are simple facts - favourite food, favourite music etc. - that can be found in most interviews (this one is 3 years old but covers that quite a bit). There's more in-depth Max lore in Whatever It Takes and Anatomy of a Champion (I don't know if you can find that subtitled anywhere though).

This is not so much lore but for young/early Max characterisation, I think if you're Dutch and you've managed to catch his early Peptalk interviews, it's obvious he's been outspoken but also has had a great sense of humour since very early on.

I don't know if it's interesting for writers but because sometimes people write Max as if he'd been a friendless loner until he met Daniel (or still is except for Daniel): he's been best friends with Stan Pex his entire life, the boy who he saw driving a kart when he was 4 years old which made him go: I want that, too. And then Jos and Stan's dad started working together and had 3 Pex kids and Max in their kart team. One of them, Jorrit, is now married to Max's aunt (Sophie's sister).

The one I found pretty shocking for a kid was that he was 11 years old when he saw a 19 year old fellow karter (Thomas Knopper) have an accident and pass away on the track.

On a brighter note. In the 'oh really, Max?' category. In the end of August 2017 episode of Peptalk, he was asked about hanging out with other drivers and Daniel in particular and he said that no, they don't hang out. He prefers hanging out with his oldest best friends. He sees him enough at the track already, you know? And then there's this picture from a few weeks before.

Max and Martin Garrix lore. In 2014 Max won the Young Talent Award that was supposed to be presented to him by Martijn but Max was in a taxi in England at the time and the live-feed kept disconnecting. They were in touch a bit after that and then they spontaneously ran into each other one time while on holiday at Ibiza and they hit it off right away ("he's also fairly normal, like me, no crazy stuff or situations.") - Formule1, 2023/2024 issue

And not just Max-specific lore but my pet peeve very important for all F1 fic writers to know: the FIA does doping testing, also during winter-break.

[swimmingismywholelife]

Miracles in December

Summary: You haven't seen your best friend since his injury. And only a Christmas Miracle will bring him back to you.

Warning: ANGST but fluffy ending, platonic best friend!Gavi, mentions of Gavi's injuries, light arguments, insecurity, guilt 

WC: 5K

A/N: 🎶On the third day of Ficmas, my writer gave to me a fic withbest friend!Gavi🎶 If you're new here, I bleed Blaugrana. I've been a Barca fan since I was a kid and that club means everything to me. That being said, Gavi is one of my favorite players and my son and I'm absolutely devastated that he's had such a major injury. I don’t typically write for Gavi (he's a literal baby to me), but I wanted to write something to show my support for him. So this is dedicated to him. Estamos contigo. Mucha fuerza Gavi y te queremos ❤️💙

Link for the Song: Miracles in December

"Oh, I didn't know how thankful your love was, oh

I thought it would stop once it ended, oh

But every day, I'm fixing

Myself to want you

I think my love will endlessly continue."

~~~

You knocked on the door, your duffle bag over one shoulder, trying to shake off the snow.

"Hola, Aurora," you said to the person who opened the door.

"Hola, Y/N, come in! You must be freezing right now!" Aurora answered, gesturing for you to come in quickly. "I'll make you some tea. Sit, make yourself at home!"

You set your stuff in a small space by the doorway, one that commonly had your stuff whenever you came to visit the Paez Gavira household. It wasn't surprising to see you come over as you'd been doing it since you were a kid. You and Pablo had met years ago on your first day at La Masía. You'd just moved from America back to Spain so you could play for the academy. You were an awfully shy kid, especially after your American classmates bullied you for the way you spoke Spanish.

You remembered your first day at La Masía very clearly. You had stood outside the building too afraid to go in. Pablo noticed you on his way in and despite being shy himself, approached you, asking if you were lost.

"Hola, soy Pablo. Are you here to play?" Pablo asked.

"Sí," you said softly. "Soy Y/N. Today is my first day here. I'm just a little scared."

"¿Por qué? You're gonna love it here! This is the best academy in the world!" he said excitedly.

"But what if they don't like me? What if I don't make any friends?" you asked worriedly.

"You don't have to worry about because I'll be your friend! And I'll introduce you to everyone else!"

"Yo no sé," you mumbled to yourself, ready to call your mom to pick you up. "I think I'm just gonna call my mom to pick me up and go home."

"How's this? I'll be your first friend, and because we're friends, we'll walk in together! You belong here, I promise. And so long as I'm your friend, I'll make sure you know that this is where you belong and what you're meant to do! What do you say, Pequeña?"

"Pequeña?! I'm not that small!" you protested, feeling slightly offended that he was coming for your height like that.

"Yes you are but that's okay! See, you have a nickname now from a friend!" Pablo said. "Everything is gonna be okay. You're here for a reason. This is your home and even if you're nervous now, I'll help you see that," he continued, calming your nerves and reassuring you.

Pablo held out his hand for you to take. "Just take my hand and we'll reach our dreams of playing for the first team together."

You hesitated, but took a deep breath. You knew you had to take the chance to achieve the dream of playing for your favorite club. So you took Pablo's hand in yours. You smiled at each other before walking through the doors together, ready to take on the world.

Since that day, the two of you were inseparable. And he was right. The moment you stepped through those doors, everything felt right. Pablo introduced you to his friends, making you feel more at ease with everyone. You eventually made your own friends within the academy. And despite your growth spurt, you still ended up tiny, causing Pablo's unfortunate nickname for you to stick. Even after Pablo started playing with the first team, he always did his best to support you in your games. He was your best friend and you were his.

Which was why you were just as distraught as he was when his injury happened. You were in the crowd proudly wearing his jersey and cried just as hard as he did as he was subbed off, knowing the injury was serious. You cried even more when you found out it was a torn ACL and meniscus, knowing he was out for the rest of the season and the Euros. Pablo more than anything loved to play, and you knew he would be devastated.

On top of that misfortune, Pablo hadn't spoken to you since that day. You'd traveled with him back to Barcelona and to the medics after that game, where you held him as he cried. But after that, he'd gone radio silent. At first, you thought he just needed time and space to process everything going on. But you soon realized that Pablo was still talking to the others after catching up with Fermín and some of the others one day.

"Yeah, I think Pablo just needs space," you said, drinking the coffee you'd ordered. "He isn't really speaking to anyone right now."

"What are you talking about?" Fermín asked, furrowing his eyebrows. "Pablito and I talked yesterday. He's nervous for his upcoming surgery, but I reassured him that everything was gonna be fine."

"Wait, he talked to you?" you asked, now being the one confused.

"Pequeña, he's been regularly talking to all of us because he needs the support," Cristo explained.

"Then why hasn't he talked to me?" you asked again, feeling extremely hurt. "I thought we were best friends. I haven't seen him since he came back to Barcelona. And he hasn't answered any of my calls or texts. I've been to his house every day since and he's never even so much opened his door."

"I'm sorry, Pequeña," Fermín said, trying to smile.

But the damage was already done.

"How is he, Rora?" you asked gently as his sister gently handed you a mug.

"The same," she sighed. "His surgery went well so he's just recovering now. I think Christmas being around the corner is making him even more upset though. You know, holiday cheer and all," Aurora replied, sitting down next to you. "He's still crying every night even if he thinks we can't hear him. He hasn't talked to you then I assume?"

You shook your head. "He hasn't said anything to me since that day. The only way I know how he's doing is by asking you or some of the others. I just wish I could help him you know? It's like I'm here, but he won't even acknowledge that we know each other, much less being best friends."

"You've been here every day since," Aurora said gently. "Even if Pablo can't see it now, I know he's appreciative of that." She grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers together. "And we appreciate that too. My brother is annoyingly stubborn and yet you've been here every day, doing your best to help him and the rest of us. You're doing more than enough, hermanita. He's lucky to have someone like you in his life."

You squeezed Aurora's hand laying your head on her shoulder.

"I would take the injury if it meant he could play too," you said honestly.

"Don't ever say that," Aurora said sternly. "If Pablo were down here, he would've hit you for saying that. You love playing just as much as he does. And you deserve to play too."

"I made the first team, Rora," you whispered. "And they've been strongly suggesting they're gonna sub me in at some point. They're finally gonna let me play. It's everything I've been working towards."

Aurora quickly sat up and hugged you tight. "Y/N! That's amazing! Estoy tan orgullosa de ti! Just in time for Christmas too! This is like the best present ever!"

"Thank you," you groaned out, "but you're squeezing me a little too tight there."

She only squeezed you tighter in response. "My parents are gonna be so excited! And Pablo-" She cut herself off. "Pablo will be proud of you too," she said softly. "I know he will."

"Is he?" you scoffed. "He hasn't spoken to me once since the injury. He's visited the first team, he regularly talks to Fermín and Cristo and all the others. But he won't even look in my direction."

"He'll come around," Aurora answered. "I think he's afraid of how you'll treat him. He's stupid for that but he'll come around eventually I promise."

"You know," you started, "everyone kept saying today that this was the best present I could've gotten. To play for the first team. And don't get me wrong, I'm so excited for this. It's all I've ever wanted since I came to Spain. And in time for Christmas too? It should be make my holidays even more exciting." You sighed, resting your head on Aurora's shoulder. "But honestly, I just want Pablo to come back to me. That's really all I ask for. But at this rate, I think even a Christmas miracle won't bring him back."

You stayed for a little while longer before Aurora kicked you out (mostly because she didn't want you walking home in the dark and the snow was starting to pick up). But before you left, you walked up to Pablo's room and knocked on the door like you'd done every time you came to visit. You knew he was awake and heard you, but there was still no effort to come see or talk to you. You sighed, taking a seat with your back against the door.

"Hola Pablito," you said. "I hope you're doing okay over there. I'm glad your surgery went well. Rora tells me everything's been great. I'm sure you probably know better than I do, but the team is struggling. That's okay though, they're managing as best they can."

You turned around to lean your forehead against the door.

"I, uh, I got called up for the first team for tomorrow's game. The others think there's a good chance Jonatán might put me in too," you continued softly, a smile appearing on your face. "I'm a little late compared to you, but we finally did it, Pablo. We're both finally on the first team, just like we promised when we were kids."

A frown appeared on your face when you didn't hear anything other than the noises of his TV.

"I know we haven't spoken in a while, but I hope you can at least watch the game on TV. Maybe I'll even score on my debut," you chuckled. Still no response from him. "Well, I have to go before your sister starts yelling at me. The snow is getting pretty bad anyway. I'll be back tomorrow after the game and I'll tell you all about it."

You got up, dusting yourself off. You rested your forehead against the door once more.

"I'm proud of you, you know? I know things are difficult for you, but you're gonna come back and be better than ever. I'll see you tomorrow, Pablo. Te quiero."

Pablo stared up at his bed as the sound of your footsteps faded, his stomach in knots as he was full of guilt. He knew you didn't deserve to be ignored, but he was ashamed. He couldn't bare to face you. You were his closest friend from La Masía and he didn't want you to see him in his condition. You wouldn't have judged him, and he knew that, but he still couldn't bring himself to speak to you. His family and his friends had scolded him many times for it, but Pablo didn't have the courage to apologize. And now hearing that you were finally called up to the first team and he still didn't say anything? He felt even worse.

Pablo heard another knock on his door.

"Hermano, it's just me. Y/N left. Can I come in?" his sister asked.

"Sí," he said, not bothering to sit up.

Aurora walked in and sat on his bed.

"She's upset, you know?" she said softly. "That even after making the first team, you still haven't talked to her."

"Yo sé," He responded.

"You know what she said to me?" Pablo remained quiet. "She said, 'Honestly Rora, I just want Pablo back. I would've said no to playing tomorrow if it meant he'd just talk to me.' And she said she would take the injury if that meant you could play again. Do you know how much that hurts to hear? That she'd rather give up her dream than not have you in her life? That's how much you mean to her. That girl has been here every single day since you got injured and you've said nada to her. You've talked to everyone else except Y/N. Why hermano? I just don't understand."

Pablo still said nothing. He took a deep breath, tears in his eyes.

"Yo sé," he answered. "Yo sé and it's killing me. But I don't want her to see me like this. All mangled and depressed. She should be living her dream, not watching me trying to walk every day."

Aurora sighed before raising her hand, slapping Pablo on his forehead.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?!" he yelled, grabbing the spot in pain.

"For being stupid, Stupid! Y/N has been your best friend since you started at La Masía! She's not judging you for getting injured! You couldn't help that and all she's wanted to do is support you because she knows how devastated you are. She's just as devastated for you!" Aurora said. "I know this has been hard for you, but you don't have to do it all alone, hermano. Just let her in and let her help you."

Aurora got up to leave Pablo with his thoughts. Before she closed the door, she peeked her head in and said, "And please at least watch her game. It's the least you can do after how you've treated her. You and I both know that."

You tossed and turned in your bed that night. With the excitement of finally making the first team and your best friend still ignoring you, sleep almost didn't come at all. Thankfully, you were able to get some rest that you knew you needed, especially if you were trying to prove yourself to your coach and the fans that you deserved some playing time.

Your stomach was in knots as you arrived at the stadium. You did your best to seem calm and collected knowing there were cameras filming the entrance to your very first game with Barça Feminí. But you didn't know what to think or what to feel. You just wanted a good game.

"Are you ready?" Lucy asked you, swinging an arm around your shoulders as you entered the dressing room.

"As ready as I'll ever be," you said nervously, twiddling your fingers.

"Aw, it's gonna be okay, Pequeña!" she said.  "You deserve this. It's been a long time coming honestly."

"Do you think I'll end up playing today?" you asked hopefully.

"There's been a lot of buzz about you online since you're close to the men's team. A lot of positivity mostly so I think people are excited to see you. But between you and me, I think you've got a good shot. You're our secret weapon," Lucy winked. "You're our Christmas miracle this year."

She gave your shoulder one final squeeze before parting, allowing the two of you to get dressed.

"What happens if you score a goal?" Aitana asked you as you tied your shoes. "Do you have a plan for it?"

You shrugged your shoulders. "I have an idea. But that's assuming I get on the field at all today, much less score a goal."

"You will. No doubt in my mind. It would be stupid of them not to, Pequeña."

You were flattered by your teammates' faith in you. Despite knowing the stack of players who were both in the starting XI and on the bench, you were honored to have been chosen as an option to play tonight. But while you were still unsure you'd see any playing time, your teammates were fairly confident in you and your abilities.

You dusted yourself off before you checked your phone, giggling when you saw the good luck messages from your friends and family. You sighed in disappointment still not seeing anything from Pablo, but you tried not to let it get to you. You threw your thoughts aside to focus on the game ahead of you, hoping you'd get subbed in at some point.

The game surprised the whole team. It was a lot trickier than any of you expected, your team struggling to convert any chances into goals. The score was tied at 1-1. The other team's defense was tough to break, and it was thanks to yours being just as good that they also weren't able to score as much. On top of that, the snow was starting to fall, making it harder to see and turning the air colder. You were all nervous that the win streak of the team would break today.

You were biting your nails as Alexia's shot was blocked once again, making you and the rest of the bench groan with disappointment. There were only a few minutes left on the clock. The team needed something and they needed something quickly.

"Y/N! Start warming up. I'm putting you in," Jonatán said. "Congratulations, Pequeña."

You looked at your coach before looking behind you. You repeated this several times before pointing at yourself in disbelief.

"Me? You're talking to me?" you squeaked.

"Sí, Pequeña, I'm talking to you. We need to change up the game plan and you're gonna be the magic we need to win this game. So I need you ready to go. Start running, Kid," he said before going back to coaching.

You let out a noise putting your hands over your mouth, still in shock over his decision. Your teammates all smiled brightly at you and cheered lightly, knowing that you were finally fulfilling your childhood dream. You stood to follow your coaches directions, but not before whispering something to Claudia, discreetly handing her a jersey. She nodded, smiling brightly and patting you on the head to send you on your way.

Your mind shifted to focus on what your game would be, but you couldn't help but think about Pablo. You shook off the thoughts, knowing that your friendship with him wasn't your priority right now. All you could do was hope that he was watching your game at home and cared enough to support you.

Your palms were sweating as you waited for Alexia to come off the field, your jersey number flashing on the board. This was the moment you'd been preparing your whole life for. And while you were nervous, you were more than ready for this.

Alexia hugged you and patted you on the head. "Go kill it, Pequeña," she whispered to you.

The moment you stepped onto the field officially replacing your captain, an indescribable feeling came over you. You could hear your team and the crowd cheering for you, all excited to see what you could do. Even though you felt the pressure on your shoulders, it didn't compare to what that atmosphere was like. There weren't any words in any language that could perfectly capture how you felt, but you knew that this was where you belonged. And you knew that you would do anything to feel this emotion for the rest of your life.

Lucy threw the ball in, initiating the start of play once again, snapping you out of your thoughts and putting you back into game mode. The ball was passed around amongst your teammates as you tried to figure out your options. You peaked over your shoulder, noticing a space that you knew you could use to your advantage. But you were also aware you were being marked by a defender, so your run would have to be quick and accurate. You made eye contact with Aitana and locked your eyes with hers subtly telling her that you had a plan. She launched the ball in your direction and you started sprinting as hard as you could, trying to keep the defender off your tail. The ball made contact with your foot as you kept running, dribbling the ball close to you. The other defenders had come quicker than you were expecting, but you knew you just had to keep going. You felt them grab your waist but you shrugged them off, pushing yourself to keep going. You scanned your surroundings not seeing a clear path for any of your teammates, but you did spot one right in front of the goal.

Your world stopped for a moment as your mind went back to your first day at La Masía. Pablo's face appeared in your mind as the words, 'Just take my hand and we'll reach our dreams of playing for the first team together', resounded in your ears. This was your dream and it was right in front of you. And you knew that despite your hesitation, you needed to just take a chance to reach that dream, just as you did all those years ago.

And so you kicked the ball towards the goal. The stadium held its breath as you all watched the ball fly past the defenders and slipping right past the goalkeeper's fingertips. You couldn't hear anything but the sound of the ball hitting the back of the net before deafening screams rang out from everyone around you. Your name and face flashed on the screen with a "GOL" next to your face.

Your eyes widened, realizing that not only was that your first touch of the ball in your very first game for the first team, but that you'd just scored your very first goal. Once you snapped back to your senses, you ran over to the side, kissing the badge on your shirt. You jumped into the air and screamed as you felt your teammates jumping onto you in celebration. You high fived everyone and huddled into a group hug, elated at the way you put the team into the lead, a "2-1" now appearing on the screen.

Knowing you didn't have much time for your own personal celebration, you broke off to the side running towards Claudia, who handed you the jersey you given to her earlier. You presented it to the crowd around you proudly. The camera zoomed in to display the "6 Gavi" on the screens around you. Despite not speaking to him for weeks, you wanted to still show your support for you recovering best friend because without him, you wouldn't even be playing that night. It was thanks to Pablo that you were here living your dreams, and this was your way of thanking him for everything he'd done.

Right before you turned back, you looked at the crowd one last time. And there in the stands was the boy himself sitting in the crowd with his cast on next to your families.

"You came," you said mostly to yourself in disbelief, feeling the tears form in your eyes, snow falling all around you.

Pablo nodded and cheered. Words didn't need to be spoken to know he was proud of you.

You laughed as you returned the smile. You knew things still had to be mended between the two of you, but you knew this was a step in the right direction. You presented the jersey a final time, hitting the badge on your own before tossing it back to Claudia and getting back into the game.

The snow fell around you as the final whistle was blown, your last minute goal being what your team needed to win the game. The bench ran to you and jumped on top, causing all of you to fall to the ground as you screamed in delight. The crowd cheered just as loudly for you, excited for the win and to see what more you could do for the team.

"You did it, Pequeña, you did it!" "You're our Christmas miracle!" "You deserve this!" "We're so proud of you!" were the words spoken by your teammates. This really was a dream come true.

You ended up earning the Player of the Match trophy for your heroics. You raised it to the fans as you walked over to the side for the interview as a means to thank them for the support.

"Wow! Y/N your first game and your first goal for Barça Feminí. How does it feel?" the interviewer asked you.

"Um, I can't really explain the feeling to be honest. Overwhelming but in a really good way," you answered honestly. "I've been dreaming of being in this position since I came to Barcelona when I was a kid, and I don't think it's fully hit me yet that I'm here."

"Well, there's been talks about you in La Masía and how you were going to be the secret weapon the team needed this season. Lots of people were anticipating your debut and I'm sure they're pleased to see what you've added to this team. They're already calling you 'the Christmas Miracle' online. Do you have any comments on that?" another interviewer asked.

"I'm really honored to have that sort of title," you laughed. "My teammates have been nothing but supportive and had complete faith that I would play today. And I couldn't be more grateful for all of them."

"And of course we have to talk about that goal celebration!" the interviewer said. "Culers loved the dedication to the beloved Gavi who is unfortunately injured and out for the season. Was there any particular reason for that?"

You grinned. "Gavi is the whole reason why I'm even here. On my first day at La Masía, I was so nervous I almost turned around and went home and Gavi was the one who convinced me that I belonged and helped me walk in. It's really all thanks to him that I worked up the courage and the passion to play."

"You must've been gutted to see him get injured," the other interviewer commented.

"I was probably just as devastated as he was," you replied. "I hate seeing any player injured, but to watch one of my best friends suffer was even worse. And since I'm here because of him, I wanted to honor him and his love for the sport and for the club. To let him know he might be off the field physically, but his spirit and his heart are still present with us. And to thank him for everything he's done for me."

"Gavi was in the crowd today and I'm sure he appreciated it. Well, congratulations Y/N on your first game and your first goal for the team. We hope to see more from you this season!" the interviewer said.

"Thank you so much!" you answered excitedly, giving each of them a small handshake before heading to the tunnels.

You spotted a figure in crutches waiting on the side for you leaning against the wall for support. You smiled and walked towards him.

"Hey stranger," you said softly, making him jump.

"Hey," Pablo answered, looking at his feet before averting his gaze to look at you.

"I can't deny I'm surprised to see you here, Pablito," you said, nudging him lightly.

"Aurora talked some sense into me. And I realized that wallowing in my own self pity wasn't more important than watching your first call up," he replied.

"What if I didn't end up playing?" you asked.

"First of all, you were always gonna play. There's no way you wouldn't. Honestly, I'm surprised it took this long for them to call you up when it should've happened years ago," Pablo said, shaking his head. "Second of all, it wouldn't have mattered to me anyway. Regardless of your playing time, I wanted to support you and your team just like you've been supporting me all this time. Even when I haven't deserved it."

He glanced at his wrapped leg. "I've been a jerk and a coward and I'm sorry for ignoring you. I just didn't want you to see me in this state because I was ashamed and embarrassed of this injury."

You rolled your eyes and flicked his forehead.

"Ow! What the hell?! You and Aurora have been hanging out too much," he grumbled.

"Yeah, because you're an idiot! I've known you since we were gross and snotty kids!" you exclaimed. "We've been best friends for literal years. If you haven't gotten rid of me yet, then that means I'm sticking around like those boogers you used to stick on the walls."

"You said you would stop bringing that up!" he whined, making you giggle.

"I'm serious though. Don't feel ashamed. Injuries happen and it's not your fault. All you can do now is lean on your loved ones for support and work to get better so you can come back stronger and better than ever," you said.

"But what if I don't?" he asked. "What if this injury ruined everything?"

"You're too stubborn for this to ruin your life," you said bluntly. "Does this sport mean everything to you? Will you give your all for your team once you come back?" Pablo nodded. "Then don't let this get you down. You just have to be patient and let the healing process do its thing. And once you get past that, you're gonna find yourself being the captain of Barcelona leading your team to greatness."

"Thank you," Pablo said seriously. "For everything. Te quiero, Pequeña."

"Te quiero también, Pablito," you said. "Estoy contigo por siempre."

You leaned over to give him a hug, but he stepped back.

"You can hug me later. You stink dude. And I'm cold. So hurry up and change. My parents are already with yours and they're making your favorite in celebration," Pablo whined. You just laughed, making your way into the dressing room.

Your first game had been something straight out of a fairytale. Your first call, first game, first touch, and first goal. It was everything you could've dreamed about when you stepped foot in Barcelona for the first time.

But while all of that was great, you got something even more important that night. And your Christmas miracle was in the form of the boy waiting for you in the tunnel.

Taglist: @thoseboysinblue @chilwellspulisic @neverinadream @notsoattractivearenti @pulisicsgirl @lizzypotter14 @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @shadowscorch

[bountycancelled]

dirty secret

coriolanus snow x reader

tip me on kofi

requested: nope, I pulled this out of my ass, but if you want more coryo stuff lemme know 😜

warnings: suggestive content, coriolanus snow (derogatory), speaking of derogatory, snow has a degrading kink in this so yeah, mentions of cockstepping, faceslapping, just... be prepared

content: im p sure i dont mention readers gender but pls correct me if you catch anything, hella ooc snow (like, this dude would never act like this but I'm a writer which means I can make him do whatever I want), readers a bitch but snow likes it, sub!coryo, lowercase intended because fuck grammar, unedited

smut under the cut♡

a/n: give me more submissive coriolanus you cowards (I'm kidding ur not cowards but pretty please write this man begging for mommy to let him cum or whatever, not for me, I swear.) also, this is my first time writing full smut like ever so, idek what came over and I wanna apologise😭😭

here me out, academic rival!coryo with a little secret...

the two of share a friend, for lack of a more fitting term, in clemesia, and find yourselves in each others presence often as a result of the fact. and this would be good and well, if the two of you didn't despise each other down to the bone.

besides the fact that the two of you felt the need to prove yourselves due to differing circumstances, you both also shared an insatiable need for power, the kind that could only be obtained by being the very best at the academy.

it was almost comical how much you wanted to beat each other, and this rivalry bled into your non academic interactions, making them just as sour.

coriolanus found genuine enjoyment in getting under your skin, and you retaliating only made him want to poke at you more, which led to you retaliating once again, and so on and so forth.

as time passed, you'd somehow found yourself tolerating snow, even going as far as to enjoy your occasional back and forths with each other when you were the only two in the library, sitting at same desk even though you didn't need to (coriolanus insisted on planting himself directly across from you just to be a nuisance, and it worked.)

your banter turned more and more friendly, confusing your peers as you walked side by side, your arm linked with his as you bragged about receiving a higher score than him on a test, to which he just responded that you had gotten lucky and that it wouldn't happen again.

you didn't turn completely soft though, your insults were still as sharp as ever, even though you now said them with a playful smirk. they were cruel, and always seemed to send coriolanus into a spiral as he attempted to get the last word in, which he never did, always waving the white flag at the end.

you had always held that over his head, the fact that you could always best him in a verbal battle, on top of beating him in assignments and the like. but what you didn't know was that you were mistaken.

coriolanus didn't always relent because you were better at verbal lashings (which you were, but that's besides the point), he always stopped egging you on before your words escalated because if he let you degrade him any further, he wouldn't be able to hide how much he liked it.

he was almost shameless, as if he wanted you to know just how much you turned him on during you spats with him. like today for example, where you had been particularly harsh to him, even going as far as calling him useless. it wasn't his fault, someone had pissed you off before you had met up with him in the library and you were more agitated than usual.

he excused himself to the bathroom shortly after, and you found yourself wondering if what you said had affected him so heavily that he needed to get away from you.

oh, it affected him alright. he thanked the universe that 1) something had happened to make you as harsh as you were and 2) that the bathroom he entered was completely empty because he knew that he would have a bit of trouble keeping himself quiet.

he had barely made it to a stall and closed the door before palming himself through his pants, shudders moving through his whole body as his hips canted to meet his hand.

a whine tore through his throat as he imagined you catching him like this, and he quickly unbuckled his belt and slipped his hand in his underwear, stroking his dick firmly at the image.

you would probably laugh at him, dishing out every degrading name you could think of, calling him a dirty slut, saying that he was disgusting pervert for being so turned on at you being mean to him. and he would nod his head vigorously, because he was a slut, only for you.

maybe you would slap him across the face, leaving him with red cheeks, or maybe you would step on his poor weeping cock until he came on your shoe. would you make him clean it off? god, help him if you did.

his hips stuttered at the thought of eating his own cum, it was just so dirty and the fact that a simple look from you could turn him into such a depraved shell of the image that he excuded in his day to day was enough to send him over the edge.

he came with a groan, his hips not ceasing their thrusting into his fist until every last drop was out. as he cleaned himself up, fixing his uniform in the mirror, he wondered if maybe, just maybe, you knew what you were doing to him. and if the look you gave him when he came back, timidly taking his seat, it seemed that you had some idea.

"you know, I think you need to punished for what you just did, coryo. for what you've been doing. do you like the sound of that, hmm?"

and if the way the cock pulsed in his pants, already hard again was any indication, he loved the sound of that.

[briar-rolfes-research-oubliette]

ON MONDAY, I (FINALLY) MADE IT ALL THE WAY THROUGH THE NEWEST ERAGON BOOK!

MURTAGH

“A Book I Read”

It took three very patient friends of mine to encourage me to finish reading this. I took notes the whole way through, and I am now sharing those in hope of finding loving community with my fellow haters.

Important context:

I loved Eragon, which came out when I was roughly eleven

Christopher Paolini was the first author to ever disappoint me

I used to love epic fantasy, until feminism, coming out, and learning about literary criticism made me just too mean to enjoy it

Since 2015, whenever I’ve had writer’s block, I’ve found inspiration by looking at this screenshot:

Christopher has managed to create a life where his mum has never stopped doing his laundry or his editing for him. He has never worked a job in his life. He has infinite time to work on his craft, and yet, with all of those advantages, he writes the way he does. I don’t hate him, but I do want to destroy him in single combat.

LET US BEGIN.

17 November 2023

I forgot how obsessed this man is with proving he knows rare words. Picking up my phone to google the word “trenchant”.

He really just didn’t want to say the dragon had a sharp sense of humour huh? Oh, no, it’s TRENCHANT. It wasn’t even for dialogue I identified as comedy but Murtagh thought it was TRENCHANT. He and Thorn have been alone in the wilderness for too long

NOT NASUADA BEING DESCRIBED AS HAVING ALMOND EYES

Of course the protagonist has grown a beard. He’s A Man Now.

I have a theory that this book is about coming to terms with marriage. Murtagh is like “our bond… our bond that lasts until death… the oldest magic… only the two of us understand each other. But, we’re also trapped with each other,” and I’m like hm. Fascinating. Say more

Instantly Murt befriends a child, to prove he is good really.

It’s so weird to read a book by a grown man with kids who is like “how did we all start out so innocent and pure…” like have you MET five year olds

This whole fork fight scene makes me feel second hand embarrassment deep in my soul. It’s SO This Guy Is The Best And Coolest

“Fencing with effortless ease” I do not care how well trained he is: you cannot kill four men with long swords by stabbing them with a little fork in “four hard impacts.” It’s just not happening.

I’m really dwelling on the idea of magic as “imposing your will” on something. It’s very.., something. Murtagh cleans his shirt by “imposing his will on the garment” like. Okay, I suppose in a way that is how all laundry is done, but it’s. Hm.

How come he’ll clean a shirt with magic but not shave with magic? Why are these books SO obsessed with beards and shaving and how to do shave and using magic for shaving etc etc, Eragon was also majorly preoccupied with this

Paolini’s got so many complexes on the page. All the “we’re half brothers and your dad killed my dad” stuff is A LOT

The naming stuff… SMH what would Ursula Le Guin say about all this

I’m obsessed with how even as (gasp) an OUTCAST!! Murtagh can’t not be the coolest guy ever for any time at all. It’s like a disease

Giving the child the enchanted killing fork was the worst decision ever made. Murtagh gives her a murder weapon and is then moping like “what’s it like… to live without killing…” literally pages later.

I’m really startled that Murt is delighted to see a tiny flying magical grass boat come down from the sky and circle him instead of being like “wtf, I’m being Watched,” which would be the true act of a man we are told is paranoid

I just got to the bit where Murtagh offhandedly says that magic users who “are the heaviest” always have the most spell reserves.

Like……… what???? Magic eats your fat?? It burns glucose??

You could be a better mage if you just, ate a bunch of raspberry frogs before each fight??????

It’s food powered??? You really want to go there, Paolini????? Wizards in the candy shop, eating sweeties like Mistborns?

GOD, if only Galbatorix had chugged a bottle of red cordial before his last big fight!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

(I return after losing my mind about this to my partner for forty minutes)

If it was “if you’re hungry you can’t FOCUS” I’d get it. But I always assumed it was like, you know how other fantasy does it? Some kind of pool of ADDITIONAL energy that you are accessing and that can be used up (until you go too far and start using life force or whatever). Like, it’s CHANNELLING it that makes you tired, not that it’s literal food energy.

Murtagh is always running or doing his sword forms or whatever and now I’m like “DUDE, NO!!!?!? DON’T BURN YOUR WIZARD CALORIES!!?!?”

I like when magic can’t do EVERYTHING, when it’s consistent or limited in some way, but I do hate the idea that it’s this predictable. Food energy becomes raw magical power. I GUESS.

(A little later)

Screaming at the suggestion Thorn can tell when Murtagh is horny.

I don’t like the euphemisms. It makes it worse

The fact he can’t talk to his dragon whenever they’re “too far apart” (distance never specified) is making me insane. Why did I pick up the dragon riding book if it’s mostly about leaving your dragon locked up at the bike rack

I know Thorn is basically a rescue dog with anxiety, but it bothers me how much he’s left on his own. The narrative just has no idea what to use him for other than speedy transport for the first um… 200 pages, it seems? He’s meant to be his own creature with his own intelligence. He doesn’t go anywhere without Murtagh though. So what is he doing all the time

I think Paolini WANTS his world to be big and mysterious (his introduction literally just keeps saying things in the world of the story are mysterious) but he HAS to keep explaining everything

24 November 2023

I’ve figured out something that annoys me about the world of this book, in terms of just how the worldbuilding is not actually that magical. It has the D&D problem!!! Which is to say that every regular person on earth is Level One and every important character is like, level 12. And part of what makes that even worse is that all women in this world are level zero.

I’ve been watching my friend Chris play the first Alan Wake game and we realised that all the faceless enemies that are possessed by Evil in the game are… working class men. The protagonist is this literate wealthy New York writer who is constantly killing faceless workers—farmers, loggers, coal miners, builders. And that’s not an INTENTIONAL commentary by the game, but it’s very revealing. And This book is the same in that: there is no such thing as a complicated poor person. They’re all either Dirty Evil or Dirty Good. Murtagh is going around, writing poetry in his head and inventing magical computer code, and then every child is an urchin who is like Oi Guvnah, and every dad is gruff, and every woman is worried.

The language used to describe everyone who isn’t a Fighting Man is so demeaning. And even then, we only need to respect the leaders of those men. The leaders are the only ones with depth who might need to be taken seriously.

It’s like Murtagh has a tally in his head where he is going “finally, a guy who is level 6”!

Most people in this world exist to deliver information to the protagonist.

Paolini either thinks his readers are too dumb to understand that his characters exist between scenes, or he doesn’t understand himself that we don’t need to see every time Murtagh enters a city under a new name and how he does it. Or know what he ate for dinner and how he prepared it and where he slept and what he dreamed and, and, and—

It’s weird because Paolini is being self indulgent as fuck but it is NOT fun to read. This dude really just needs to go write a survival story or something… A guy in the woods depending on nothing but his wits and his axe and his beard and his libertarian values

I don’t understand the stakes at play. All the magic scenes with Mind Penetration are so sudden and hard to actually understand as action. And the way it works is about brute force, so the dragon is not going to be at risk of being taken over except by another, even bigger dragon

It would be fun to read the Murtagh city sleuth segments if Thorn was backseat driving a little. I think that their bond should not get thinner over distance. The fact that it does just defeats the point of a magical bond.

Why does the dragon have to stay so far away? Like… it’s established that there’s a spell to conceal a dragon from sight. Dude. You could just go fucking invisible

There’s so many decisions that just are so bonkers to have made. The whole fetch quest for information pissed me off so bad. “You have to join the guard” (40 pages of emotions about uniforms ensue). This guy learned about plots from video games

Paolini had kids apparently, but you can tell he doesn’t really understand kids. “How do they all start out so innocent and pure,” says a man who has never heard a seven year old describe someone being killed by farts before.

The description of Murtagh carrying a cat that doesn’t want to be carried is very funny. I don’t know if Paolini has ever carried a cat before. If you’re carrying a cat that doesn’t want to be carried close to your chest, and you tighten your grip when it squirms… say goodbye to your nipples, my man

It’s strange how much Paolini doesn’t explore the things that seem to be the point. FOR EXAMPLE, the fantasy soul bond trope loves to say “even during sex!??! 👀” because it’s about INTIMACY, and some alien presence always being there. The dragon rider trope is popular because dragons are powerful and wise but also Beasts. Magic is fun to read about because it can do things that can’t be explained.

Paolini’s world is big, but nothing in it has any real substance. Nothing in it has any real consequence, and it makes it impossible to really invest in anything that happens. None of these poor city folks have a life once they leave the scene of delivering Murtagh information… or if they are a woman, delivering him a hot meal. There’s no sense of a world that exists outside Murtagh’s point of view!

25 November 2023

The towns so far don’t feel at all distinctive to me! I was interested in the one with the massive lake, but then it having this massive fish in it was the only point of interest. It would be fun to have been like “oh the fish has ruined our summer festival! It’s ruined the nobility pleasure cruises! It’s also eating fishermen!” Or “Why do all these fishing boats have huge spikes on the prow? Well,”

Again, these guys are all level one in peasant dirt town. They have no capacity for individual thought and no ability to adapt.

It’s like Paolini doesn’t know what makes people and places in fantasy feel distinct, or have culture. It’s so evident in how much he HASN’T thought about. For example, the bonkers amount of restrictive gender norms that he doesn’t seem AT ALL CONSCIOUS OF? Everyone who died in the war was A Man. No women died in the war. But that hasn’t resulted in any social changes. There aren’t more women doing work, for example, like being fishermen

I remember being thirteen or so and reading the bit in the second book where Arya explains to Eragon that she’s better and stronger than a human woman, because she is an elf, so Eragon doesn’t have to worry about her in battle. I was this kid there like “man, that sucks. I assume he’s coming back to that assumption later,” and… he never did. He still hasn’t. And that sucks

The dragon riders were not THAT long ago, in the world of these books. It makes me wonder—were none of them human women? I always assumed that some were human women, but… did dragons only choose elf men, elf women, and human men? If they chose human women, then even being accepted into a paramilitary dragon force didn’t change gender expectations in the rest of the world. What the fuck. He’s really never thought about this.

Women keep showing up as cunning-mysterious, as humble dirtmothers, or as innocent children. Oh my god I’m just describing maiden mother crone. That’s all he’s capable of.

I just got up to where he rescues the werecat baby (innocent girl child) and settles in to hear the stories of elder werecat (cunning-mysterious)

I noticed the Arya Problem with how Nasuada is described in this book, too. Every woman has to be the best, most capable, most powerful woman ever, to be worth the attention of The Boys. Otherwise they can’t respect her. Only two literal queens can be considered worthy of just two average guys who got pet lizards. Even then, they’re not actual equals.

“She still empathised for me.” Yes, don’t worry, Murtagh, I remember that’s what women are for.

I should note that the reason Nasuada is considered so powerful and so much worthy of his love and is her strength as a person. This is proven in the Eragon books because “she still empathised” with Murtagh whilst he was medieval torturing her. He was medieval torturing her for like… most of a book and that’s how they fell in love. Because she could see in his eyes that this guy torturing her… was Complicated. He didn’t really WANT to be medieval torturing her so she actually felt worse for him than he felt about how he was (and I can’t stress this enough) medieval torturing her

I just can’t imagine that THE QUEEN OF A WHOLE CONTINENT would still prefer the guy who sadly tortured her. He’s her top preference. Out of EVERY OTHER MAN IN THE WORLD

I put the book down until the day before I was meant to have finished the book for book club:

10 March 2024: from page 274 onwards

The evil witch is called BACHEL?????!!?!??!? Fucking BACHEL. Pronounced “buh-SHELL”, the guide at the back says. You changed one letter in Rachel, don’t lie to me Paolini

I got so mad being reminded the evil king Galbatorix was defeated by “Eragon forcing empathy upon him” so that he magically exploded himself out of guilt that I had to put the book down and complain to Charlie for five straight minutes

I guess that’s why Galbatorix made Murtagh torture Nasuada for him. He knew that if he’d done it himself she would have empathised with him too hard and he would’ve exploded himself

Murtagh has never met a single person he has respected. Murtagh is the specialest boy in all the land. Eragon had to leave the country because they were both too special to share a continent

Murtagh decided on where to go and he was immediately surrounded by armed guards who took him to where the plot was

Paolini uses the fucking word “admixed” while discussing EATING A PIE. The flavours admixed in his mouth. Just because you know a word… doesn’t mean it’s a word to deploy about eating a pie

I HATE how the only people strong enough to do the strongest magic are Elves Or Human Riders. It’s fucking magic my guy! Why is it checking your goddamn DNA! Also, hey! Wasn’t it supposed to come down to the strongest wizards being the guys who ate the most for lunch?

In a world of Magic how come every wizard battle ultimately comes down to who is a better Professor X?? I came here for fireballs, not Mind Battles. I don’t care about your Mental Wards

Hahaha Murtagh!!! Get trapdoored, bitch!!!!

Dragon panic attacks: conceptually cool but a bit ?? Like ah… the plot literally comes to scoop him up and carry him away. Yet again something outside of Murtagh makes a decision for him about what to do next

Murtagh’s poetry is going to make me explode myself like Galbatorix in book 4

If there’s something I like about this book so far it’s just the bits where he and Thorn are camping. Not flying, because then Murtagh is using the time to think and that’s horrible. The bits where they make campfires or whatever feel like something is actually happening. A guy and his dragon hanging out

Man. The way this novel is plotted really reminds me that it’s not actually that hard to write a book.

Murtagh goes to the evil village (oh yeah there’s an evil village. It is where Bachel lives. She is evil because she does magic without using the magic language). The village is called:

NAL GORGOTH

But I couldn’t remember this so I kept referring to it in my head by another, more familiar, name

Murtagh is so freaked out by finding a village with architecture that he doesn’t recognise. He’s like “My god!!! Nasuada has to be warned!!!” Ok but about what??? New ways of building pillars???? The art deco movement threatens the land??

Kinda fascinated by how much this village represents a threat to CULTURE. The architecture, the people… Everything about it so far is designed to be A Foreign Threat. The inhabitants are Of All Races (except elves they are too cool too pure etc). The humans have A VARIETY OF SKIN COLOURS, which memorably never happens in Alagaesia, a continent once explicitly described in the Eragon books as only having two (2) black people on it at all (then one died) (the other is Nasuada) (the one who died was her dad)

This guy with a goatee isn’t quite human. He is maybe part urgal and he is so uncomfortable to look at! Mainly he has arms that are a bit too long!! Bachel isn’t a human and also isn’t an elf, and that’s also deeply unsettling.

Bachel also fundamentally represents a threat to THE STRUCTURING POWER OF LANGUAGE, huh??

Bachel is so far the most interesting character in the book!

Bachel has: ALMOND EYES and AMBER SKIN

Murtagh is so upset and confused when Bachel calls him “my son” like… I’m cryign. “But she’s not my mother! I know my mother!!” he thinks, in a panic.

If this was a fantasy novel written twenty to thirty years ago, then the sexual tension between Murtagh and Bachel would be absolutely insane. Alas, this is a world of abstinence, and sexuality is only ever meaningful looks between a queen and the guy who tortured her (it is weird how he keeps caressing Nasuada’s face on the gold coins)

It’s very funny that Bachel has specifically fourteen warriors. The prose keeps telling us that there’s fourteen of them. So you get Murtagh stepping forwards and then sentences like “the fourteen warriors attending Bachel shifted”

She seems like a perfectly normal cult leader to me? Why is she automatically a threat to Nasuada! How come the two of them can’t arrange a toxic political marriage that becomes… something more 😉😉😉

Nothing annoys me more in this book than Murtagh being able to identify specific vintages of wine. It keeps happening and it pisses me off

Bachel is a half elf!!! “It had never occurred to him that such a thing might be possible.” This is truly and absolutely unbelievable to me. Nobody in this world ever has sex

How did it take so long to get to such an objectively cool village!!! Like this is just a cool place!!! Sorry that Nar Nar Goon is evil but like FINALLY something has style

Three thoughts at once:

I’m so bored that Paolini’s mind can’t get more interesting than temple virgins, let alone wearing white to represent ritualistic purity. Like… nobody in this world fucks anyway, why does it matter!

Murtagh should also wear white all the time

Lesbianism doesn’t count as a violation of being temple chosen. Alín is wearing lesbianism

Paolini has never once written a woman who is Normal. He just can’t conceive of it. You can feel how he starts sweating.

Murtagh finally realised it was a cult. What sets it apart as a cult is that the followers appear to be “half-wits” to him

I’m going to detransition to break his fucking neck

Paolini has learned nothing since he had a woman deliver the exact same line in like 2008. The fact that another editor just thumbsed this up. The fact that this is in a book published in 2023. Well, now I’m REALLY embarking on an antagonistic reading: that’s right, I am reading women as capable.

Obsessed with Bachel. She is a girlboss and I’m a feminist xxx

Book is constantly weird about how much she is capable of eating and drinking at her feasts and how it makes her appear swollen and bloated etc etc. Murtagh is so weirded out by this because he feels it is unfeminine… as though she is not a witch and we weren’t told earlier that how much magic you have is directly equal to how much you eat. (Meanwhile he is only picking at his food and eating just enough of it ‘to be polite’ as though this is not making a decision to have less magic than her)

She has so much charisma compared to anyone else in the book. If my choices are her or Murtagh then sign me up boys!!!

Okay but much like how this would’ve been a VERY charged relationship 30 years ago, I’m weirdly disappointed Bachel she isn’t not described as megahot? Like the book keeps telling me about this virginal templemaiden or whatever, because Murtagh is only attracted to women he can rescue. But I’m actually just like… I think this woman is hot. Tell me more about her. It’s wild that this book is written by a guy like Paolini, who told me all about Oromis’ pubic hair in 2008, and who barely thinks women are people. Yet he doesn’t want to discuss her tiddies?

This book could, and should! have started when Murtagh landed his dragon in the evil village of Nar Nar Goon. That’s the point that stuff got actually interesting. Everything before this was literally video game fetch quest logic plotting that earned him the right to fly to Nar Nar Goon.

Boar hunt. More like BORED hunt. And then suddenly there are so many pigs, a comical number of them flying everywhere

This motherfucker using the phrase “the boar was lying athwart him” in a sentence in an action scene????

Murtagh is nearly dead and the boar is lying athwart him?

I’m going back in time and bullying the author at school

RIP Murtagh, trambled to death by 30-50 wild hogs

Oh god every time someone knocks Murtagh out he has a vision or a bad dream or a flashback or whatever and it’s so tiring

“EXISTENCE WAS A TOMB WHEREIN THE SINS OF THE PAST LAID INTERRED???” Do you ever read a sentence that sounds so much like the author is jerking it? “All had been lost, and there before him lay the instrument of their destruction” he is furiously jerking it oh my god. “Destroyer of hope, eater of light” oh, god, he’s still going

…This book is. Weird about mothers

Murtagh flies into a rage because Bachel mercy killed a guy who was dying bc of boar trampling because “I COULD HAVE HEALED HIM!!!!!” And the mercy killing is proof it is a cult. Because doing it Bachel’s way meant the guy was too relaxed and at peace when he died

Paolini’s family were in a cult, as I understand. So it’s kind of weird how much he doesn’t really understand how being in a cult works

I don’t really remember how religion works in this world, but I do remember tuning out of a long boring passage in book 2 or 3 where Eragon learned about all the gods and decided he was an atheist. It’s especially weird to be like “holy shit, an EVIL religion??!” In a book where religion has absolutely never come up before now

Oh my god, Alìn was whipped for being ‘too familiar’ with Murtagh!!! That’s because she’s so pure and a helpless victim girl in all white :’((

In my mind Bachel and Alìn COULD be in a fucked up lesbian relationship with bad BDSM etiquette. Of course Paolini can’t imagine a world where women have enough personality or agency to fall in toxic love with each other. Also even though he has people tied up and strapped down and whipped and being tortured etc in every book don’t think he knows that BDSM like. Exists. Boooooo

Murtagh: killing one guy who is dying of a punctured lung is the ultimate evil!

Also Murtagh: I know an invisibility spell, but to sneak out of my room I am going to suffocate seven men to death

Genuinely upsetting to read those men dying. He made it impossible for air to enter or exit their lungs with a word. Veins popping clawing at faces etc. God, what a way to go. So unnecessarily cruel. Yep, there goes the good guy

The main way the village is evil is that there are unsettling carvings everywhere. Paolini read some Lovecraft, but he did not understand what was up with it. Or maybe he did, because this book did get a lot more weird about Racial Purity once Murtagh arrived in Lovecraft Village

11 March 2024

There’s a bloodstain that “filled Murtagh with the apprehension of evil” and it confused me because these books are so gory. Earlier he killed four men with a fork. But like oh yeah I guess it’s because when Murtagh murders people now it’s bloodless. I guess. His murders are good you see

This chapter is called The Bad Sleep-Well you can tell Paolini thought he was a real genius for this one

Okay but why are there bats… roosting… in a cave… at night. And why is Murtagh worried that red light will risk waking them? Animals cannot see red light?? SOME FARM BOY YOU ARE, PAOLINI

Okay I have to stop nitpicking. I have to restrain myself until my Vyvanse kicks in

“Murtagh felt a sense of not just age but antiquity. Whoever had built the stairs had done so long before Alagaesia had been a settled place. What was it Bachel had said? That the cultists had lived in Nal Gorgoth since before elves were elves... He was starting to think she had told the truth.”

Sorry uhhhh, Alagaesia was settled?? When they talk about The Grey Ones, are they talking about a race PRIOR TO COLONISATION?????????

“He continued forward. Deeper into the womb of the earth. Deeper into the black unknown, seeking, seeking, always seeking a farther shore, every sense razor-sharp and razor-scraped, skin all goosefleshed, cold sweat dripping down the back of his neck and gathering around his belted waist.”

God it’s so overwrought...

He found the well!!

Oh my god. The well is a natural magic hotspot and that means it “wasn’t the sort of thing that the Draumar ought to have dominion over.” It’s a natural resource???

“Not that he would want Du Vrangr Gata to assume control over such an important location either. This was exactly what the Riders had been created for: to oversee and mediate that which could destabilize the land.”

Murtagh is going to bring democracy to the Middle East

He’s too scared to mentally contact his dragon with Bachel around. If he was a proper horse girl he would find a way

Oh Galbatorix BECAME evil because he met Bachel and she manipulated him. Haha oh dear. No, you can’t just come to the conclusion the dragon rider paramilitary force who controls the resources are bad on your own. Not just because they sent you into the mountains when they knew it was dangerous and wanted to find out if you’d be killed up there! No, a manipulation had to have happened

It’s funny to me that the evil ancient witch queen who lives in seclusion in the mountains uses the new name for the city of Uru’baen. Oh no, she knows it as Ilirea. She’s hundreds and hundreds of years old. You know what that is? Evidence of Find And Replace, to me.

Bachel’s eyes are “glowing with fevered ecstasy.” I could make her feel that way. Also. Because, I know about sex

Always with the fucking passing out at the end of the chapter for Christopher James Paolini

NOW Bachel is being described appropriately as a hottie. FINALLY. GOD! It only took Murtagh being mind controlled in his brain but I. I!!! I could see the glorious light of truth!!

“He followed, dumb and wildered.” Well, not as much as that sentence. (You can be bewildered. But can you ever just be wildered????)

The dedication to making Murtagh the most pitiful little meow meow in existence in the Galbatorix flashbacks I’m… what happened to the joys of a guy who is evil because he was convinced or was tricked, not because he was fully brain abused???

The Urgals are racially… uncomfortable. Yellow eyes and Murtagh just straight up saying “how do you speak English”

The evil guys have masks and they put them on and like channel the animals the masks are of and on one hand it’s an idea I THINK is cool but also combined with the everything it really has this “tribal stuff is threatening” vibe all over it

“What do you want, witch?”

“I want you.”

Obsessed with how he’s shackled to a table and there’s still an incredible lack of sexual energy to this scene. This is like a day at the office for both of them.

… oh, but she is wearing claws and claws DOES equal a threat of penetration. Maybe a little sexual? As a treat??

Him being tortured reminds him of torturing Nasuada. Wow, it was their first date!

It’s just like. It’s fucked up imo. She should never kiss you Murtagh!!!

Is anything more boring than a torture scene.

Also, was he not drugged right before this scene? How is he able to mentally evade her and power his wards etc?

I’m mad that when he’s brought fancy foods by Alìn he doesn’t share his food with Ubek the Urgal

Oh my god Ubek tells him a story where the moral is just him outright saying at the end, “it’s important to stay close to the people we care for, even if we don’t always fit in so easily” lmao. Subtlety of a mallet

Is anything more boring than a torture scene? How about a torture chapter!!!1!1!1!

This chapter is interminable. Oh my god.

Oh, so we did all that and he gives in I guess. I can’t believe how little agency this man has had throughout this book????

Haha oh my god, Bachel is studying his nude and compliant body in front of her court. Telling him to turn around so she can inspect his back (no mention of his ass even though it is out, tragic). Fucking love it. Now that’s bdsm. Pledging my allegiance to her instantly.

I am BORED. I liked when he was at least doing things of his own volition!

He flies his dragon off on Bachel’s orders and we get the line “Never had air smelled so… so… delicious.” Cryign

GASP he’s killed… CHILDREN!!!!!!! I hate how it only becomes horrifying for him to have done these murders once he realises they’re HUMAN children. Urgal children? The implication is that would’ve been a bit tacky but ultimately fine

Prison brothers blood pact. I feel so little about this. Ubek is 5000x more interesting than Murtagh but he’s been slotted into what is unfortunately a sort of magical indigenous person trope but where instead of being a human being, he is an orc. Which makes the whole trope much worse

Murtagh touched Alìn’s face… gasp! She’s been corrupted by the Touch Of A Man!!!!! (I do not care about this.)

(I care a little. For example she didn’t touch HIM. He just reached out and she didn’t pull away. This is the biggest decision about this character’s life, and she isn’t even allowed to be the one who makes it. He decides on her behalf, and she must be okay with it. Because she doesn’t pull away or fight him off.)

(Also Paolini doesn’t seem to be aware that ‘a woman who has been pledged not to be touched by a man’ would um. USUALLY be understood by a reader as euphemistic. Not that her purity could be forever ruined by a man literally just touching her face)

The way Paolini fills Murtagh’s brainwashed dialogue with oops all ellipses makes me want to tear the book apart with my teeth

Worst: how Grieve the guy who is part urgal is perpetually referred to as “heavy-browed.” “the heavy-browed Grieve” I’m sorry but I missed phrenology school, is that bad??

Also if he’s maybe part Urgal but Murtagh is now given a chance to making it clear that some of his best friends are urgals... Why is Grieve so distastefully described? What’s wrong with being half urgal? My suspicion: it’s the bloodlines intermingling

I suspect I can just skip every fucking dream sequence and flashback. Nothing of any value in these

This one guy, Lyreth, who trapdoored Murtagh for 2.5 seconds ages ago in the book, is TWICE referenced as holding/ touching the waists of “village” or “cultist” women in his dialogue tags. That’s the full extent of it. It’s not that there’s a giggling tavern girl sprawled in his lap while he’s speaking. These faceless women are exclusively sketched into existence by how a named male character’s hand is on their waist. We don’t know anything about how they are responding to his touch, which is extra in-your-face considering that Murtagh just obliterated a woman’s ritual purity by touching her face without asking. And it’s only ever these women’s waist. It’s not their hips or thighs or boobs. He’s not kissing their necks. I’m sure in Paolini’s mind this guy touching women’s waists is meant to read as sexual, which is supposed to reinforce that he’s a scumbag… but it doesn’t work because it’s so impersonal. These women are just… unmoving waists that he is just touching. It serves as a good illustration of how women—and sex and sexuality and bodies—are handled in these books. Men are never ruled by their strong and muscular bodies. Men have minds, and magic, and telepathy battles. Even when Murtagh is on a torture table or when he’s naked in front of a powerful woman who is actively inspecting his body, he doesn’t feel vulnerable. He doesn’t have an ass or a dick. The wind doesn’t make him shiver. He’s just a Mind. But women, well. They only have bodies when men touch them. The course of Alin’s life is defined by Murtagh’s touch, and even Nasuada, a fucking queen, only gets physical description via the coins Murtagh has in his possession and his memory of the cuts and bruises he left on her body. And women also have no minds—unless they’re werecats or elves or half elves, the only kind of woman who are remotely threatening, the only kind of women who are “as good as” the baseline of human men. Nasuada is proven as Murtagh’s equal because she was able to overcome the torture of her body. If he hadn’t tortured her, or if she had broken down, she wouldn’t have proven herself worthy of being his romantic partner.

Eragon’s romantic interest also started out being tortured. Not by him, but “girl who is tortured but is too strong to give up her secrets” was her entire characterisation for a book and a half, until he rescued her. That’s uh. That’s how you find girlfriends who are good enough for your protagonists.

THESE FUCKING BOOKS.

Bachel has put Thorn in a special wrought iron muzzle. Yet again, this is just objectively cool

We learn about who the cult worships: evil dragon underground. He makes fumes come out of the earth and they brainwash people and give them visions. He will come out of the ground and eat the sun unless every living thing worships him.

Really Bachel is not leading a cult she is leading an environmental rescue mission. Quick we gotta get everyone to worship this evil dragon STAT, or he’s going to wipe out all life on earth.

Why does an evil dragon living under the earth with the power to eat the sun (?!??!) actually want or need to be worshipped by “every living thing”. What is his motivation?? And why would that stop him eating the sun?

“The sculptures would have horrified most any artist in Alagaesia, no matter their race.” Mark this down as one of the worst sentences he has written yet!!

I realise now I’ve been misremembering multiple main characters’ names

I like Bachel telling Thorn to stay, like he’s a dog. That’s good to me

Murtagh is learning about the power of friendship to heal himself last minute, I guess

Why is Murtagh pausing to duel fucking Lyreth, the most boring man in the world. Is it because of the waists he touched??? I have never felt this man was worth any time at all

NOT Paolini specifically pointing out that Lyreth “smelled of a cloying peach scented perfume” and that he’s physically weaker than Murtagh as Murtagh overcomes him. Lyreth was too feminine to be strong, in the end

This book is obsessed with the word “youngling.” Murtagh says to Thorn “don’t kill any younglings.” He’s fighting Lyreth but he’s not worried because he himself is “no longer a youngling”. Fucking fuck off! just say youth. Child. Kid. Teenager even!! Come on!!

Murtagh going “this is taking too long” in the duel: me at the whole book thus far

“Is wrong-think to worship Bachel or Azlagur,” says Ubek. This is real dialogue in a book published in real 2023. Oh yeah btw everything he says is written like this

Oh, the urgal’s size and brute strength makes him Murtagh’s equal. I see

Grieve is legitimately yelling “kill the non-believers!!” and calling them desecrators??? Cartoon hours

To start winning the fight, all Murtagh had to do was find his magic sword! It stores all his potency and he inherited it from his father. Freud?? Don’t worry about it

The cultists are bleeding green blood???? Does this mean they’re not human or is it the lighting or what.

Groups of dragons are always being described as a Thunder Of. They’re only ever being described in visions but it’s always being described as “a thunder of dragons”, because Paolini is very proud of inventing his very own collective noun for dragons I guess

Buncha little pasty freaks showing up.

Murtagh’s ultimate challenge: he has to fight one hundred gollums

Paolini inventing new guys for his dungeon at unprecedented rates

Murtagh is legitimately busy trying to think of new names for his sword NOW?? He is just going to stop in the middle of this urgent fight to go find where the bad woman (Bachel) took the good woman (Alìn) to go “my sword has a bad name. It could have a good name.” Did he not have time while he was mouldering in the dungeon to think about this

He’s checking his compendium, like in video games.

Books have never been worse. If Murtagh/Paolini calls this sword Scar I will legitimately never know peace

Oh the sword is called Freedom now. Get it? Like America? It’s the most important value??

“Seeing the armor, Murtagh realized that the leather garb the cultists had donned for the festival of black smoke had been made to resemble Bachel's fantastic suit.”

what a sentence

This is the worst

I hate how her spear has a name and a dramatic history. Like come on

Fucking mind battles again

Alin is just… I’m sorry to her, but she’s not a real person. She’s a cardboard cutout in distress

The final boss fight should not be taking place in the magical world of the mind

Now she’s calling him “infidel?” Okay

The ultimate battle: the structuring power of masculine language versus the primeval chaos of raw women’s emotion!!! Who will win!! Hint: Christopher Paolini wrote this!

“She seemed merely a woman again.”

‘Merely’ is how Paolini always describes women (when he thinks they’re worth describing of course)

Wait… is the only reason Bachel has been intimidating REALLY just because she’s been channelling a tough evil boy dragon? Once the mask is gone and he’s not empowering her… she’s merely…

I’m going to kick Christopher Paolini’s fucking ass

Murtagh feels so emotionally close to Bachel. As he splits her skull. Normal book

For real why were ALL the Riders so afraid of Bachel??? The gas fumes? Face masks not invented?? This seems pretty easy to solve like if they’d just. Sent more than one guy?

He passes out and the chapter ends of course. Then he wakes up in the city

Ah, Alin is blonde and blue eyed. She was a pale skinned virgin who needed rescuing from an evil and also foreign almond eyed amber skinned woman who was whipping her. You know how it goes

I hate how Alìn always calls Murtagh “my lord.” She’s like one of those medieval fighting game banners of a sexy woman. She’s a cartoon.

Isn’t it a shame that when Murtagh hastily gets out of bed to bow to Nasuada he is wearing pants. So much funnier if he wasn’t

I’m so over this book holy shit

Oh, for being the apparently only sole survivor of Murtagh’s obliteration of her cult and everything she’s ever known, Alìn is being promoted to… Nasuada’s maid. That’s not what she asked for. That’s just what she’s being told she’s going to do from now on. Fucking hell.

Nasuada is Jealous of this blonde woman and I was afraid for her because Nasuada is also famously the only black woman on the continent. But of course she has nothing to fear because only the most powerful woman in the land could ever be remotely Murtagh’s equal, which she proved by being stronger at being tortured than him

She asks him to stay and she touches his hand just lightly

The END??

They don’t even kiss?!!!?!! I had to read it twice to be sure. SEXLESS BOOK.

[immeasurablesaladagere]

can u write about Wilson reminding little House of drinking and eating and generally taking care of himself? cuz I struggle with that

- @tummy-rubs-for-wilson-pup

One self-care fic coming right up!

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Word Count: 977

Summery: To encourage House to do the self-care tasks he neglects or forgets about, Wilson pulls an idea from a parenting magazine. A sticker chart.

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“…And where did you hear about this again?” House asked, unenthusiastically leafing through the packs of colourful stickers. “It better not have been one of those shitty parenting magazines.”

“It was! They’re very helpful actually. 20 Tips for Raising Kind Kids, 10 Ways to Curb Temper Tantrums, Experts Recommend 13 Healthy Meals for Snacktime, it’s thrilling stuff.” Wilson said. He grabbed a package of markers and tossed them into the basket. “You like any of these?”

The particular article that brought them to the dollar store that day had been Making Self-Care Fun! 5 Ideas for Your Reluctant Child, and as he watched House drag his feet through the store, reluctant certainly was one of the words that came to mind. Everyone in House’s personal life knew that he didn’t subscribe to the “farce” that was self-care. He stayed awake for days on end, he rarely ate anything of substance, constantly chugged coffee and energy drinks to keep himself going, and oh yes, the Vicodin. 

At work he had an excuse, even if it was a lazy one. He had a job to do. But when he was regressed it was different. It was less that House didn’t want to look after himself so much as he didn’t want to be told what to do, or just forgot to completely. So when he came across an article praising the wonders of a self-care sticker chart he figured it couldn’t hurt to give it a try.

House scoffed. “How did we ever survive as a species without tabloid parenting advice?” He pulled a packet of cartoon fairy princess stickers off their hook. “What about these? I think they match my personality.”

Before he could put them back Wilson snatched them from his hand and dropped them in the basket. “I agree. Anything else?”

House gave him a searching look, then smirked and scanned the rack again. He picked out two more sticker packs; one farm animals and the other space-themed and added them to the basket. “Just those. Oh, and one Hot Wheels. I think they’re in the next isle.”

Wilson rolled his eyes. “Yes, my liege.” And off to the next isle they went.

-

Once they got back to the apartment they set to work on the chart. Or rather, Wilson set to work on the chart and House “helped” by stealing the markers he needed to doodle. The design was simple; a large flip booklet of paper with the same drawn chart template of tasks with little pictures for each one. Eat a snack, drink water, brush teeth, and take a shower or bath. 

The idea, according to the article, was to encourage your child to do chores or tasks with small rewards like stickers. After filling up a row of the chart with stickers, the child would earn a promised big reward like ice cream or a trip to the zoo. In turn, the child would want to do the tasks to earn the rewards and would be more willing to do them. Of course the writers of the article had never met House, but he was willing to test their hypothesis.

Speaking of House, he seemed to be either regressed or regressing actively. His doodles, which he was intensely focused on, were becoming less detailed, his grip on the marker clumsy and awkward, and his good leg was swinging back and forth under his chair. With the chart complete, Wilson got up and propped it up on the counter and opened the cupboard.

“Do you want to earn a sticker?” 

House looked up at him, one eyebrow cocked. Instead of unimpressed, his expression looked genuinely curious. Definitely little. Wilson tossed him a granola bar, which he unwrapped and slowly took a bite of, watching him like it was a test and he wanted to make sure he was getting the answer right.

Wilson grabbed the package of fairy stickers, peeled off a magic wand, and stuck it in the first “Eat a Snack” box. “There. Once you get five of each, we can do something big.”

Now House was intrigued. “Like what?”

“Well, what do you want to do?”

“Mmm… museum.” He said, mouth full of granola.

“I think we can make that happen.”

-

Over the next few weeks, the sticker chart had become a regular part of Little-House’s day. Of course because it was House there were some kinks to work out along the way. He had almost immediately began trying to find loopholes in the system, first by placing stickers on the chart while Wilson wasn't looking and then by trying to do the tasks five times all at once to catch Wilson on a technicality, which he had only found out about after catching House brushing his teeth for the fourth time in an hour. They’d had to make two rules: One sticker per task per day, and Wilson got control of the stickers. But after that, he caught on quickly. After a week, Wilson hardly needed to prompt tasks anymore. House would just get a snack, or ask for a sippy cup of water, or Wilson’s personal favourite, walk past him and breathe minty-fresh morning breath into his face and ask for a sticker. The only task he still needed to prompt were baths, but he expected that. House was like a cat when it came to baths.

Until one morning when a House practically shook him awake, and Wilson opened his eyes blearily to House’s face just centimetres from his.

“Make a bath.” He demanded, then added a quick, “Please.”

Wilson blinked at him. “…What? House, what time is it?”

“Morning, and time for a bath. I only need one more sticker, c’mon Wilson!” He pouted, shaking him again.

Wilson groaned and sat up to stretch. “Alright, alright… Go get your bath toys, I’ll be there in a second.”

House was already off the bed and making his way to the bathroom. “Hurry up! We gotta museum to go to!”

Wilson chuckled. Thank you, shitty parenting magazines.

[heliads]

Okay

So

I think this is how you request? I’ve never requested anything before >w<

But before I do that I wanted to applaud you for all your hard work!!! You are such an amazing writer, one of favorites atm, and you definitely deserve some praise!!!

For my request, I’m not sure if you are still into Ouat or Peter Pan from the show, but I’m like, obsessed. I’ve had this soulmate idea in which Peter pan’s plan to steal the heart of the truest believer failed, so now he has to take the heart of his soulmate. This is harder for him because he doesn’t know how to love. He hates it out of fear of what it could do to him, yknow yknow? So he goes along with the plan and he captures her. He expects her to fight back but she doesn’t. In fact, she’s quite happy to give up her heart for him if it meant that she wasn’t useless. (She had no family other than her sister, who had recently died. She’s lived her whole life feeling unvaluable). Over the past few days, they get to know each other, and he starts to feel bad that he was her soulmate. Like, why does such a sweet girl have to be his??? How could she just be fine with giving up her heart, HOW COULD SHE BE FINE WITH HIM NOT LOVING HER WHEN SHE CLEARLY DESERVES ALL THE LOVE HE COULD GIVE HER?!?!

She just tells him that a soulmates job is to make their lover happy, and if this made him happy then she would gladly give him her heart. It’s not like he’s doing it just for himself anyway, he is doing it for all the lost children in the world.

After he finishes the setup necessary for the ritual, he takes his soulmate to Skull rock. By the point, Peter isn’t even sure if he wants to steal her heart anymore. Could he have fallen in love this quickly???

But she encourages him to do it, despite being frightened of it herself. Before he takes her heart, Peter asks her if she had any last words. She quietly mumbles that she loves him more to an anything. She then asks him if it will hurt, to which he responds by saying that he’ll numb the pain as much as possible.

Going against his better judgement, Peter kisses her softly as he takes her heart. She immediately passes out. Peter pan has big boy realization and can’t bring himself to kill her, so instead he puts her heart back in and kisses her in the hopes she will come back to him.

Insert fluffy ending here with more kisses!!

I am so so so sorry in advance if this is super specific or doesn’t make any sense. I’ve just had this idea stuck in my head for months and it won’t get out. Of course, you can add or change the idea to make it simpler for you to write!! Take as much time as you need and have an amazing day!!!

oh this idea >>

masterlist

Peter Pan is really out of luck. No, really. He says this about once a decade, when his latest plan for glory goes a little topsy turvy, but it’s real this time. Peter has finally caught his last break, found himself in a trap that he just can’t slip. Peter can name a fair number of people who’d be just delighted to hear that the King of Neverland has finally lost his way, but Peter himself isn’t one of them. 

That probably has to do with a little something about how he’s going to die. Peter always knew his life came with strings attached, namely the giant hourglass ticking down his last hours until he finally croaked, but for some reason he always thought that he’d be able to find his way out of it. Peter is a mastermind at exploiting loopholes, but despite all of his centuries of figuring things out in the nick of time, he may have just now met his match. 

Peter thought he had it settled when it came to the heart of the truest believer. Kidnap a kid and carve out his vital organ, that’s all it took. It should have been an easy task, too, certainly within Peter’s grasp. It’s a shame the truest believer also came with a team of die-hard do-gooders ready to tear the world apart to save their son, but who could predict something like that?

Henry Mills was Peter’s last chance, though. Or, to be specific, the last chance that Peter even remotely wanted to consider. He has explored all other opportunities, never given up hope on finding another way, but at last, he’s going to have to admit it. Peter is going to have to do the one thing he swore to always avoid. 

Peter can feel the eyes of the other Lost Boys on him now, silently waiting for him to make the inevitable call. They’ll support him in whatever choice he makes to save himself, of course; Neverland disappears when Peter dies. He’s sworn that he’ll ship them all off to safer shores should that day arrive, but no one wants that, either. The Lost Boys have always had a chance to leave, they just never took it because this life on Neverland was always preferable to anything else. 

He knows what he has to say, though. Peter has known it for a while. The one last gamble he could possibly deal, the last chance he will ever have to not die before a month is out—

His soulmate. 

This is the one option Peter was really hoping to avoid. Something about the whole soulmate affair has really bugged him all this time. Forget the odds of ever finding your soulmate when he’s immortal living on an island where no one could track him down if they dared, Peter isn’t the type of person who makes sense in the whole soulmates agenda. Peter doesn’t like weaknesses, and having someone out there who’s supposed to mean the world to you, love above all else, makes his skin crawl.

Technically, he supposes his soulmate isn’t a weakness at a time like this. In fact, his soulmate is going to be the only thing capable of making Peter strong again. See, if he wants to go on living, he can sacrifice someone else’s heart to the magic of Neverland:  that of his soulmate.

Anyone else would call it cruel. Peter is not anyone else, which is why he’s considering this. To be honest, he really hadn’t wanted to go anywhere near his soulmate, but he’s not so averse to the whole concept that he’d go into a grave rather than risk it. Peter clings to life like no one you’ve ever seen before, and he’s going to keep on doing it, soulmates be damned.

Peter can’t quite put a finger on why he has such a strong dislike of the soulmates thing. Maybe it’s because understanding the soulmate predicament would make him open to such weaknesses as love brings. Love is for fools who have nothing else to give, kids and blind men who would plunge a knife into their own chests if it meant meeting somebody who was supposedly meant for them. The only thing that Peter has ever needed in this world is his immortal youth, and if a soulmate were ever to get in the way of that, he’d take them out himself.

That’s the plan, at last. Peter doesn’t have to worry about the time it could take to track down his soulmate. He’s had his shadow keep vague tabs on them for no particular reason. He’ll tell himself it’s so he can head the other way if they ever draw near, but it’s not like that’s actually a good excuse. No one comes near Neverland unless they can avoid it or they’re one of his kind. Clearly, Peter’s soulmate would never be the type to fit in here, because soulmates are a sham. Peter refuses to believe anything else.

Still, he has to meet them, has to look them in the eyes as he carves the heart from their chest. It’ll be quick and clean, that’s all Peter needs. After that, he can live forever with another weight lifted from his shoulders. Two weaknesses removed from Peter’s world:  death and love. What more could he possibly want?

Peter actually goes to the trouble of locating his soulmate himself. This job needs to be clean, he can’t afford to have any more storybook heroes on his tail. Look how well that turned out with Henry. This is Peter’s last shot, after all; it happens without error or it doesn’t happen at all.

To his surprise, it’s relatively easy to find his soulmate. She’s walking alone at night when he finally comes to her world, trading a dimly lit house for a chilly twilight. The walls are silent, still as a grave, and the girl doesn’t look back once as she leaves. Strange.

Peter waits until she’s out of the line of sight of the house just in case, then starts following her. Once they’ve turned off of the street, Peter quickly closes the distance between them. The girl turns to stare at him, and her eyes widen. She must be feeling it too, then, the rushing feeling in her chest. Peter’s hit by it now too. He didn’t ever wonder what it would be like to meet one’s soulmate, so the reaction of being in such close quarters to the one person designed for him takes him by surprise.

Peter bites back an unwelcome smile and a rush of butterflies to his stomach. “I’m going to need you to come with me,” he says. He’s got a knife in his hand just so she gets the point. Like he said, no slip ups. Not this time.

He’s expecting a fight. That’s how Peter would react if someone approached him at night with a weapon, after all, yet for some reason his soulmate just nods. “Alright,” she replies.

Peter blinks in surprise. “Alright? I’m kidnapping you.”

“Alright,” she repeats, this time with a soft smile, “are you, though? You look really confused about it.”

“Yeah,” Peter says without thinking, “you seem like you’re not taking this seriously. Aren’t you going to try to run or something?”

The girl lifts a shoulder. “Where would I go? Besides,” she adds with a small laugh, “you’re my soulmate. That seems like a fascinating kidnapping to me.”

Peter thinks he’s gone out of his mind. “I’m going to kill you. This is not fascinating. I need your heart so I can live forever.”

His soulmate tilts her head to the side as if considering something, and then nods. “Okay.”

He must be crazy. “Why is that okay?”

The girl spreads her hands. “I have nothing. Nobody left, no family. It would be something to let someone live forever, wouldn’t it? Once you see enough death, you start to wish somebody could do it. If all it took was my heart, I think that’s a fair price. Where are we going, soulmate?”

Peter almost opens his mouth to stop her before he remembers that this is what he wants, someone willing to give up their heart so that he could live. This is actually the best possible scenario, but then why does his chest twinge with something almost like guilt when he nods and gestures towards the sky? And, upon seeing his soulmate’s face light up as she realizes that they’re to fly to Neverland, why does Peter feel like a monster for giving this girl a snapshot of all that she could have had if he hadn’t been afraid of her and taken her to his island for any reason other than sacrificing her heart?

It doesn’t matter what this girl thinks. What matters is Peter staying alive. He can focus on that, not the way the eyes of his soulmate shine with all the stars as they fly through the night air, how Peter feels more powerful than he’s ever felt before because they’re so close to each other. Y/N— he doesn’t remember asking her name, but he must have at some point because it’s now folded carefully within the depths of his memory— makes him feel strange. Better. More alive. 

It’s distracting, and Peter can’t take another distraction right now. He all but abandons her to the wilderness of the island when they touch down on Neverland, muttering something about needing to get something before disappearing again. 

To her credit, Y/N seems surprisingly good at navigating this strange new world. She finds her way to the Lost Boys’ camp within a few minutes, and by the time Peter plucks up the courage to head there as well, she’s already locked in conversation with a few of the boys. Even Felix is nodding along. Some unwelcome voice in the back of Peter’s head tells him that she fits into Neverland so well for a reason, but he refuses to listen. 

After all, Y/N is only here temporarily. She knows it, too, which just makes Peter’s unsettled surprise grow more intense. She doesn’t try to run or flee her fate in any way. Instead, she asks Peter questions about the magic of Neverland, what it would be like when her heart has been traded in and everything is as it should be. After some initial hesitation, Peter talks. He talks more than he thinks he has to anyone else, and comes away from every conversation feeling a surprising lightness in his chest. 

A couple of days pass after his soulmate arrives on Neverland, and Peter begins to realize that if he wants to get through this at all, he’s going to have to plan the ritual sooner rather than later. Already, something almost like guilt is pricking at the edges of his consciousness, making Peter wonder if this is really something he could do. To tear the still-beating heart out of Y/N’s chest, even with her explicit permission, seems somehow so wrong that even Peter with all his centuries of depravity feels like he’s missing something. 

It will come, though. This will pass. Peter has the Lost Boys depending on him. Peter himself knows nothing about death, that grand adventure that he has yet to experience, and he plans on keeping his demise to the distant future, if it ever does happen at all. He has to kill Y/N, even if it feels like he’s killing himself in turn. 

The hour arrives at last, Peter makes sure of it. He takes Y/N’s hand and they fly to Skull Rock, out of the judging eyes of the other Lost Boys. Those that were so keen on him finding any way to live now seem less sure of Peter Pan’s divine right to never fail. Peter isn’t sure of it either. 

The only one who’s sure of anything is Y/N. She watches him with those same bright eyes as Peter reminds himself of words to spells. He had wondered if her quiet strength would desert her when the moment of her actual death arrived, but she remains just as brave as ever. That marks her as better than Peter, he supposes. 

At last, when he can push it off no longer, Peter turns to her again.

“It’s time,” he murmurs. 

Y/N nods once. “It’s okay.”

How like her, to absolve him of this last guilt. He doesn’t deserve this. Maybe this is why Peter has avoided the topic of soulmates all this time— he wasn’t afraid of a weakness but the knowledge that he would never be good enough for anyone. Especially not a soulmate like Y/N. 

Peter squares his shoulders, reaches for her. “Is there anything you want to say? You know, before–”

He stops himself before the treacherous words come out. Before he kills her. Before he rips her heart out of her chest, ending the life of the one good person in his life, the one person he had been sent to love and instead ended up murdering just so he could have more years of empty life.

Y/N flinches slightly, and Peter realizes that she actually is terrified despite her calm front. “I don’t know,” she whispers, “Maybe that I love you. More than anything. If this is what it’s like to have a soulmate, to feel like this, I’m glad I got it.”

Peter must have reacted strongly, because she holds up a hand to stop Peter’s response. “I know it’s bad timing, but I wanted to say it once. You have to do this, Peter. Not just for you but all of the Lost Boys, everyone you haven’t saved yet. Promise me, won’t you? Promise me you’ll find all the kids who need you. You’ll have all the time in the world to do it. Bring them home.”

“I promise,” Peter says hollowly.

Y/N jerks her head up and down, a trembling acceptance. “Alright, then.” She eyes him cautiously. “Do you think it’ll hurt?”

Yes, he wants to say. “I’ll try to make any pain as little as possible.” He owes her that much.

Y/N flashes him a quick smile that neither of them believe. “Do it.”

Peter stares at her, and before he can stop himself, he leans forward slightly and kisses her. It is a mistake in anyone’s book, but Peter can’t help it. It goes against his better judgment, his limited common sense, but it also gives him a rush from head to toe that he could not explain if he tried.

Y/N’s eyes are shut, which makes it easier. Peter plucks her heart from her chest as easily as if it were a single emerald leaf from a tree. Instantly, Y/N crumples to the ground. Peter looks at her body in a tangle of limbs on the floor of the cave, and he knows. He can’t do this. It is the only thing that will save his life, and it is too great a price to pay.

Within a second, Peter puts Y/N’s heart back in her chest. She still doesn’t stir, and Peter finds himself swept away on a tide of fear, utterly wracked with the horror that maybe he was too late, that his realization took just too long to come about. He kisses her again in the hopes that it might do something, anything. He’s heard that soulmates are supposed to have a special kind of magic in them; if the stories were true, if there is anything left to Y/N and Peter, let it go all to her. Let her wake up. Please.

Y/N lets out a shuddering gasp and sits up. Peter’s breath leaves him in a rush and he clutches her to him, his arm wrapped around her shoulders as if she’s giving him strength instead of the other way around.

“You’re alright,” he says weakly. It’s as much to reassure him as her.

Y/N shakes her head against his chest. “Didn’t it work? It should have worked, Peter.”

Peter pulls away briefly, unwillingly, so he can look at her again. He doesn’t know how much time he has left now, but he’d gladly spend the rest of them just watching the sun set in her eyes. “I couldn’t do it. I can’t kill you, Y/N.”

Y/N’s eyes widen. “No. No, you had to do this. You’re going to die.”

He lifts a shoulder. “I’ve lived a long time. You deserve your shot at life, just like me.”

Y/N opens her mouth to argue against this, and then she falls silent. Peter furrows his brow, confused at her sudden hesitation, and then he realizes that the entire room seems to be glowing. He turns around to see what Y/N’s looking at, and then he sees it and loses the ability to function.

The hourglass is glowing. As Peter watches, all of the grains that had been steadily collecting at the bottom fly up to the top, and this time, they stay there. Even after Peter waits, they refuse to fall. For some reason, he is no longer capable of dying, at least not through the steady progress of time that had once marked his centuries.

It must be the soulmate thing. It’s the only thing Peter can think of, that something must have come of the bond between him and Y/N. It’s funny, isn’t it, that Peter has spent all of this time running from the mere mention of a soulmate and now she’s the one to save his life?

He faces her once more, and this time, he lets himself smile back at her. “I think we’re alright.”

She laughs. Peter thinks he could listen to the sound on repeat for days at a time. “I think we’re more than alright, actually.”

For once, Peter does not have any cause to fear. He has his life, but more than that, he has his love. Love is not something to shun or hide, it makes him strong. He holds out a hand for Y/N and helps her up. They have a new life to lead, hundreds of thousands of lifetimes until time itself ceases to function. Peter thinks it’s just about enough time to get started.

requested by @hinayugi, i hope you enjoy!

ouat tag list: @lovesanimals0000, @amortensie, @w1shes43, @lost-ender

[cyberdragoninfinity]

Hello, I've been enjoying your Arc-V reactions so much. I had a question since you called Yuya your favorite protagonist, do you have some like deeper character analysis thoughts on him? I feel like I had a strong grasp of his character in season 1, but in seasons 2 and 3 I don't think I understood well what the writers were going for with him, other than he's extremely repressed because both parents told him he's never allowed to get angry or cry and express any negative emotions.

WAH THANK YOU apologies this took ten thousand years to get to..late june/july is always busy for my art fightin' ass

ANYWAY IVE BEEN HMMING AND PONDERING OVER THIS FOR A WHILE and like. i think the tricky thing with yuya is that, well, i don't think the WRITERS even fully had a grasp on what they wanted to go for with him in the later seasons (and/or what they wanted to do with arc-v's themes. and the plot. and the all of it lmao) so it really is a bit of a 'there's multiple reads you can have on this character and while not all of 'em are right, not all of 'em are probably wrong either'; the narrative frankly doesn't have a strong enough backbone for like the entire second half to put full conviction into one definite read. Great news for guys who like to think way too much about yugioh characters!! Less great news for "trying to actually grasp wtf the actual honest to god true intent of the writing was" 🥴

All that on the table and now aside, let's talk about the little unwell tomato of the hour. First I do think it's a bit misleading to say Yuya's especially repressed, per say--there's an element of unconscious ignoring/avoidance to repression, and let's be real this kid is certainly not ignoring his negative emotions. The negative emotions are beating his ass. He is spending half the series having catastrophic emotional meltdowns and veering directly into sobs and explosive rage outbursts and feeling Bad almost constantly. I think with him it's more an instance of him having just an absolute pisspoor handling on his emotional regulation... because yeah his parents have been giving him terrible self-help advice for years </3

I don't think theyve necessarily told him he's not allowed to be sad/get angry/express negative emotions--instead it's more of a case where (with Yusho especially) Yuya's being told if he DOES feel sad or upset, then that needs to be met with a smile in order to truly push past it and to feel better, i.e. if you fake the laughter then it will become genuine laughter and youll be a-ok and HAPPY!! YAY HAPPY ^_^ (yusho you cant fucking say that to your coughing baby who's also a hydrogen bomb!!!! oh god!!!!)

arc-v is Very into this idea of illustration emotions as through the metaphor of a pendulum (huh wonder why) especially like.... 'when you're crying, laugh instead, and that will swing your emotions back around again into positive ones' and 'if you're courageous and confident and push through feeling upset, that courage will swing back and turn into happiness.' which is like... IT'S ALMOST SOMETHING. THEYRE ALMOST SAYING SOMETHING MEANINGFUL. BUT YUYA IS SUCH A BAD MAIN CHARACTER TO EMBODY THIS THEMATIC CONCEPT. he's neurotic and kind of not particularly brave and wretchedly insecure and again his emotional regulation is complete dogwater and he's not a very good, confident duelist (or showman even) and so on and so forth. And the problem I think is as you get into season 2 and 3 the stakes keep getting higher and urgent but Yuya doesn't really like.... Grow very much in those aforementioned areas. They just start piling more and more insane shit on him and then it's not just his dad telling him to smile more but also like half the rest of the cast and the narrative itself BUT THERE NEVER GETS TO BE A MOMENT WHERE LIKE. THAT MANTRA FEELS EARNED, FOR YUYA. The writers reeeeally really want him to be this embodiment of laughter and always swinging back around to smile in the face of adversity but most of the moments we see them trying to make Yuya out to be this in the show, where his dueling brings smiles to everyone and ends classism and makes the bad guys nice immediately, they just feel kind of....fake. ive mentioned before how the end of arc-v feels like a fake tumblr post but alongside that a lot of season 2/3's writing for yuya feels like the exaggerated parody of steven universe that su critical blogs in 2015 were convincing themselves existed. and don't get me wrong it's fucking hysterical, I think it's hilarious yuya fixed arc-v aster in like two duels and now he's not an authoritarian child soldier anymore, but we do have to also Be So Serious.

sorry i just needed to post CHILL OUT ON THE GLOOM AND DOOM :/ again. this aster definitely has killed people but it's fine yuya fixed him. he's fine.

IMO It's hard to get a grasp on/understand Yuya's character in the later half of the series cuz yuya's character is so weighed down with these big idealistic themes the show didn't actually put any work towards getting him on a narratively satisfying track to fulfill them. He spends like 2/3s of season two literally locked in rooms astral projecting every so often like COME ON. and season 3 much like a lot of arc-v ALMOST GETS THERE. ALMOST SAYS SOMETHING, WITH YURI AND WITH ZARC. What happens when someone's happiness comes about from pain and violence? What happens when a smile is full of malice? That could be such a cool opportunity to explore the pitfalls of the pendulum emotion metaphor the show sets up, how that can be twisted into something harmful, but. well. that's not what we got huh :,)

anyway all that to say i think yuya's a sweet kid who has such a genuinely big heart and is a really interesting character, but it's almost this sort of key feature of his that he's really not a terribly happy person despite the smiley emoji-shaped hole the show's plot tries to jam him into (and cuz of that there's just so much dissonance in that that makes his whole deal kind of murky when all is said and done.) he's really a character that just has nonstop shit Happening to him whether he wants it to or not and it's kind of insane how little agency he has for like... So Much of the Show. He's made into a mouthpiece for Smile Away Da Pain and like.... for what? [arc-v spoilers if it matters] at the end of the series the other three yuboys are effectively dead and soul-absorbed and don't come back and it's like. you cant Smile World that loss away, arc-v. yknow?

i have no idea what my point was anymore, it is very late haha. LOVE YUYA. THEY COULD HAVE SAID SOME REALLY THOUGHT PROVOKING SHIT WITH HIM. AND YET !

[mauesartetc]

I've observed that some HB fans with trauma feel so attached to the characters and the show that they defend every writing decision and take any criticism as a personal attack. I can understand relating to and feeling sympathy for a character because of personal experiences, but Helluva Boss is a terrible media for emotionally vulnerable teenagers and young adults to uncritically consume.

It just pisses me off that so many people will praise HB for representing abuse with Stolas and Stella, yet ignore the unhealthy relationship dynamics, abusive behaviors portrayed in a positive light and bad writing in general.

Real talk: Speaking as an emotional abuse survivor myself, it pisses me off to no end that Helluva Boss has failed to represent this subject with any sensitivity or subtlety.

It's important to remember that abusers are often charming and charismatic, and they exhibit positive traits (at least early on) that make the other person want to salvage the relationship.

What the hell are Stella's positive traits? In what little screentime she's had thus far, she's been elitist, rude, destructive, pouty, murderous, sadistic, and a little stupid (failing to consider that if Stolas died, Octavia would inherit all his wealth and leave her with nothing). While there's evidence to support the claim that she acted like she was in love early on in her marriage (she's smiling in the Loo Loo Land photo, sleeps in the same bed as Stolas in a flashback and has stated she used to pretend to want to fuck him), there's nothing to suggest her personality was ever anything but odious. Even when Stolas first sees her photo as a child, it portrays an awful little brat.

It's pretty clear Stolas has never had any reason to love her, so why does he stay?

He says it's because he wants Octavia to have "a normal life", aka a two-parent household. But how exactly does that benefit her when those parents are constantly fighting? You might think "Well, that's a lot of parents' excuse for not getting divorced, but that doesn't mean it's right", but the show never challenges his stance on this. There's never a moment when he realizes, "Oh shit, maybe my definition of 'normal' is actually hurting my daughter". He only declares he wants a divorce after his first tryst with Blitzo and on the balcony when he tells Stella he "can't do this anymore". He's doing it entirely for his benefit, not because it would improve Octavia's life.

(And because the writers blatantly favor Stolas and everything he says, I have to wonder if they actually believe the standard nuclear family represents a "normal"- implied in this case to be good and desirable - life by default, regardless of how miserable everyone in the family is. On the off-chance that is indeed the case, as someone who lost a parent at a young age: Fuck all the way off with that, show.)

Also, we're not lead to believe divorce was never an option at any point. If a royal in this world gets divorced, what are the consequences? Would Stolas lose his title? Would he be executed? The whole point of this marriage was to have a kid, so literally what was stopping them from splitting up after she was born (other than the bullshit "normal life" excuse)? Why can't Stolas just visit Octavia? Why does he have to live with her? Plenty of kids with divorced parents still get quality time with both of them. The solution was right there all along, but Stolas felt the need to wait until his daughter was seventeen to split with his wife? For some reason?? The writers try to pass it off as some noble sacrifice he's making, but in reality, he's just being a dumbass.

Okay, so maybe he's just afraid to leave, like many abused people are. I'll have to call bullshit on that, since he never even tried to keep his affair a secret. He's openly flirted with Blitzo in public (at Loo Loo Land and the Harvest Moon Festival, in front of dozens of witnesses) and met Blitzo at a couples-only nightclub, where they sat in plain view of everyone else there. Couldn't even bother using your powers to disguise yourself, bud? Or does that only work when it's convenient to the plot? If Stolas were the least bit threatened by Stella or what the Goetia family would think, he wouldn't be this bloody obvious. While it's possible this is a self-sabotage sort of thing, the show has never given us evidence that Stolas has those kinds of tendencies.

In short, Stella's a hamfisted, stereotypical portrayal of an abuser, and Stolas just doesn't come off like the abuse affects him at all (or at least not until the episode where it needs to for plot reasons). Obviously not all abusers or abuse survivors in real life will fit into the same mold, but there's straight-up zero logic to these characters' behavior. I've mentioned this very astute video before, but here's one quote that perfectly sums up how poorly this show handles character motivations:

There's a... character consistency issue that results from having these characters exist only to dispense abuse. Their actions stop adding up... [Stella's] thing is that she wants to be away from Stolas... Why does she repeatedly show up to the house just when Stolas is around to torment him? This behavior is quite strange. She does not like him. She does not want to be around him... We're to assume that Stella wants to feel mad, wants to feel bad, and that's what she wants to do with her life.

This isn't how real people act. And of course fictional characters aren't real people and any sense of agency they have is just an illusion at the end of the day. But ideally they should feel real to the audience.

I now fully understand why I was leery of these writers potentially exploring a character's addiction. It's because they've shown they can't be trusted to give serious subject matter the care and weight it deserves.

[cowboybrunch]

writerly questionnaire tag!!!

finally getting around to this, thanks a million @the-golden-comet (here) @harmonic-melodii (here) and @fortunatetragedy (here) <3

About You

When did you start writing?

as soon as i could hold a pen. i have notebooks FULL of little me's stories (i keep everything ive ever written. for nostalgia.) it was mostly silly escapism for a lonely child but now it's sweet to look at and giggle. from when i was maybe eight? nine?: "Pain and fear, like a perfect recipe. Pain and fear, milk and eggs"

Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write?

mmm probably. when i say ill read anything, i mean ill read ANYTHING. i dont think ill ever write a hockey romance but im down to clown

Is there an author (or just a fellow writer!) you want to emulate, or one to whom you’re often compared?

poetry-wise Bhanu Kapil has been a massive inspiration for me. also Kaveh Akbar and Ariana Reines (Mercury sits in a place of honor on my bookshelf). for novels? i feel like i emulate whatever i last read. Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver did horrible (affectionate) things to the way i write

Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)? (Room, coffee shop, desk, etc.)

my office! my favorite place in the world!! cozy lights (that double as gamer lights), diet coke can graveyard, comfy office chair big enough for me to sit in a way that absolutely destroys my posture. sticky notes everywhere (a fun challenge! can i read my own handwriting?) AND!! i have an audience

What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse?

reading something else, talking to someone about whatever im stuck on, setting a timer and just dumping everything in my brain (something in there HAS to be worth pursuing)

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about?

HA!

Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all?

overbearing parental figures that believe they're acting in the best interest of their kid... surprising when i realized that it's in almost everything i write characters that are good at heart but commit atrocities due to their circumstances... less surprising oh! and death. i write a lot about death (someone pointed this out recently and i was like huh. you right)

Your Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? (Current WIP, past WIP, never used, etc.)

Missy and Theodore staring at each other like

sorry! Theodore is my favorite!! he got here first!!!! he's my precious loser baby boy who HAPPENS to be the heir of death but he's trying his best! he's pathetic!! he's doomed!! but he means well! he doesn't want anyone to die alone! he wants to be good! he wants to be good soooo bad!! he hates rivers but loves the ocean!! he lies to everyone, including himself! he's simultaneously full of self-loathing and self-righteousness!! AND... he's bisexual!!

Which of your characters do you think you’d be friends with in real life?

i would kick it with Robbie for SURE. snarky little smarty pants that can't sit still for more than five minutes, we'd be peas

Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them?

*looks around nervously* ... Marcella (BOO!! TOMATO!!) im sensitive and she would be mean to me!! i feel like we'd warm up to each other eventually but not before she made me cry

Tell me about the process of coming up with of one, all, or any of your characters.

they just kinda... show up. and reveal more about themselves as i write them

Do you notice any recurring themes/traits among your characters?

ougffff. lots of anger in these parts. most of my characters are angry, esp the women. as they should be

How do you picture them? (As real people you imagined, as models/actors who exist in real life, as imaginary artwork, as artwork you made or commissioned, anime style, etc.)

depends on the character! for main guys, they get listed descriptions but i cant picture them in my head (thank you picrew). but others? they're like. blurry shadows moving through the story (do NOT ask me what Uriel looks like! i DONT KNOW!)

Your Writing

What’s your reason for writing?

words in brain make story in head. need story out of head so i can focus on literally anything else no but seriously. that quote that's like "the only thing worse than writing is not writing." it's like. a maintenance activity. if im feeling especially wound up it's probably because i havent written anything lately

Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers?

if you leave me ANY comment i am kissy you on the forehead. just knowing that someone read it let alone enjoyed it... waoh

How do you feel about your own writing? (Answer in whatever way you interpret this question.)

i am... trying very hard not to fall into self-deprecation here. i think there are things that i do well and things that i can improve on, but even if i write something and think it's "bad" i can still learn from it. all practice is good practice!!! (said through gritted teeth)

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write?

yea! i would find comfort in it i think, same way i do now. have my little characters for company

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? If it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence?

i am my own target audience. i am the conductor of the self-indulgence train but there's room aplenty if you wanna hop on

tag! @illarian-rambling @writingrosesonneptune @sarandipitywrites @mrbexwrites @mysticstarlightduck and a wide open tag if you havent done this yet. gimme a peek into your brain!!!

[tempurafied]

OKAY SO!! I'm in no way a professional writer, or tbh any good at writing, I kinda just write. And what did I write? Angst. And now I'm gonna share it here. :-)

Dannie x Shane

Angst. Hurt. Cliffhanger?

Shane didn’t know how to deal with these feelings at first. He began to feel this way about Dannie after a year of dealing with the farmer. Oh, how he desperately tried to deny those feelings, waving them off as admiration of their strong bond. But the heart wants what it wants, and Shane’s heart desperately wanted Dannie.

One day, after mulling over the idea and playing it out in his head, Shane was ready to tell Dannie. He shot Dannie a quick text, his fingers shakily gliding over the screen.

Shane: “Hey, you busy?”

Dannie: “Nope, watching some cartoons with Vale. You?”

Shane: “Bored out of my mind.”

Shane: “Why don’t you drop Valentina off here with Marnie and Jas? They wouldn’t mind. And we can go out for drinks?”

Dannie: “Sounds good. We’ll be there in a minute.”

It really did feel like a minute, what with their farms being so close to one another. With a soft knock, Dannie walked in with Valentina in his arms. He smiled as he saw Shane leaning against the counter waiting for them. He could hear the TV in the other room, assuming Marnie and Jas were already there.

“Hey, got here quick, huh?” Shane teased, pushing himself off the counter and walking over to Dannie.

“Who says no to drinks with their best friend?” Dannie teased right back, a low chuckle escaping his lips as that smile of his remained on his lips.

There was some quick conversation between everyone before Dannie eventually dropped Valentina off with Marnie, him and Shane then leaving the house. When Shane started making his way to the lake and not the saloon, Dannie raised his brow.

“I thought you said we’re getting a drink?” he asked, keeping at Shane’s side.

“We are, I just…wanted a quiet night tonight. I miss it just being us, y’know?” Shane replied with a nervous laugh. His heart raced thinking about what was to come.

The two made it to the lake, taking a seat at the old, rickety dock. It was a familiar spot for them, Dannie often swinging by to make sure Shane was okay. Tonight, it’d have a whole new meaning. The two spoke about everything, casually speaking amongst drinks, able to tell each other anything.

Dannie and Shane were about a beer and a half in, when Shane finally had enough of his brain’s yelling. This was it, he was going to tell Dannie.

“Hey, Dan? Could I…ask you something?” Shane asked, his voice slightly shaky. His cheeks already being pink from the alcohol was not helping.

Dannie raised his eyebrow, picking up on Shane’s shaky tone. “Of course,” he nodded gently.

Shane nearly held his breath, not ready and ready at the same time. His grip on the aluminum can tightening and crinkling under his hold. His eyes met Dannie’s before he began to speak.

“Dannie, you have become…pretty much the closest person to me. Whenever I need a shoulder to cry on, it's you. I can't think of the past two years without thinking of your smiling face. I…I think I’m in love with you. And..I was wondering if you’d…maybe want to start going out?”

As for Dannie, he sat there in stunned silence. He let out a quiet huff of laughter, shaking his head softly.

“You're kidding, right? That was a joke? You actually liking me?” he asked, raising his brow. He didn't have that playful edge in his tone like he usually had, making Shane panic.

“W-What? No! I..I really do love you! Do you…not feel the same?” he muttered, almost bitterly knowing the answer. Of course this would be the answer. Why would Dannie like me?

“Shane. We’re both dudes. Two guys….they can't date. They don’t date. It's not natural,” Dannie added, a small frown growing on his lips as he spoke. He finished off his beer, setting the can down beside him and standing up.

“I’m going to go get Valentina and go back to the farm. …I don't want anyone knowing about this. We’re friends…but I’m not queer, Shane,” Dannie said sternly, eyeing Shane down with disappointment before walking off. His boots echoing and growing distant as he walked off.

Shane sat there, stunned, heartbroken even. He expected Dannie to reject him because, well, it's him. Who’d want to date him? But this…this was worse.

[keeponquinning]

Here With Me, the series — M A S T E R L I S T

Joseph Quinn x Erotica Novelist Latina Fem!Reader.

Summary — You've done pretty good for yourself. You have a best friend and through her musician fiancé, a best friend adjacent. You also finalized your dream since you were a kid, always being a writer, but now a published author. Not a grand success, but you gained a following whether from the books themselves or your presence in BookTok and the weekly podcast you do with your best friend. It's earned you invites to conventions with your fellow authors and...that's where you meet him. You were never a fan of long distance relationships, but falling for a London boy? As if there was any other choice. It won't be easy, but, you were both willing to beat the odds.

WARNINGS — There WILL be smut, all sorts of filth going on as typical in a relationship, especially a long distance one. Cursing. Like, obviously I'm writing this for adults. And also, it is RPF so if not you're thing... Understandable, I respect it, just respect me and others that write it to not be a dick about it. ✌️

The Pros and Cons. It's your birthday! You don't feel like celebrating at all, despite your best friends' efforts. What's worse? You're working through the weekend, a guest at a convention with your fellow writers, signing your books and...absolutely no news or content on your anticipated next book that everyone, including your publisher, keeps asking you about. It's all a bit stressful, and then, you meet him. Tall, English, chocolate button eyes and warm smile. Perhaps there would be something to this birthday weekend after all.

Part One - Two ( WIP! )

Close Shave. After growing so accustomed to his beard, it's time for the working actor to shave it for a role and you're the first to see him.

One Shot ( WIP! )

Take Care Of You. You're about to fly to London to spend two glorious weeks with your boyfriend. You both can't wait, to the rolling eyes of your friends. And it starts out lovely....until you come down with the worst cold you've ever had. You're miserable, tired, and hating that you ruined the time you have before you have to fly home. But Joseph doesn't mind, insists it's not ruined because you're still together and he'll just have to nurse you back to health.

Part One ( WIP! )

Yes, Professor. You're Joseph's secret, writer, girlfriend who you met amidst the start of his convention tours, things are hot and heavy between you two, though strained for the inconvenience of not living in the same city and not being official. You're forced to spend a week apart but plan to meet up with him back in London on the last day of his Con appearance, and after teasing him for his Professor type choice of outfits, well, you just couldn't resist showing up dressed as your professor's favorite student, now could you? We thought not.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three ( WIP! )

Get You Alone Tonight. The secret's out, you and Joe are a couple. The Venice Film Festival proves to be your first real outing as a couple, both dressed to the nines and by his side with the premiere of his film, HOARD, and you couldn't even be more proud of him, despite the nerves rattling you both. But once it's said and done and you're both alone again... The nerves get settled the only way you two can think of.

One Shot ( WIP ! )

Almost Made It. You both r e a l l y wanted to make it to that club opening one of Joe's friends of a friend invited him to. But... Oh... You both almost made it...

One shot ( WIP! )

Proud of You. Another festival, another fitting, another chance for you to be so proud of your boyfriend and not afraid to show it.

One shot ( WIP! )

The TikTok series. Your boyfriend isn't very savvy into the whole social media game like you are. But has appeared on your lives, sometimes popping into your videos from time to time, but now has warmed to the idea of doing them officially under your careful direction. He can't seem to say no to you, and you don't take that lightly.

Mini-series ( WIP! )

Notes — These are just the fics I've started, there are plans for loads more. So here is a masterlist for EVERY FIC / blurb / one shot I have planned in this verse. I thought having one big masterlist instead of thousands others would be easier!

Also? Requests are so open for these two, because I love them and honestly any excuse to write them.

We'll start over with the tag list too, just to be fair. So -- !

LIKE THIS POST TO BE ADDED TO THE TAG LIST! ( also reblogging and keysmashing into my inbox / DMs would be cool, too... )

Taglist — 46!

( actual tags will appear on the chapters! that would probably make sense. thank you! )

[violetsandfluff]

Welcome to the Concept Café!

If you’re a writer or reader looking for inspiration, look no further.

Rules: Order a fic from the writer who reblogged this. Include who you want the fic to be written about and any of the following elements.

Dishes ~ Style

🥣 Bowl • Fluff

🍽️ Plate • Angst

🥡 Takeout • Smut (I’m not writing smut anymore but other writers might!)

Meals ~ Relationship Status

🥗 Salad • Married

🥪 Sandwich • Engaged

🌭 Hotdog • Dating

🍕Pizza • Just friends

🫕 Soup • Strangers

Drinks ~ Settings & Scenarios

🫙 Water • Boring afternoons together

🥛 Milk • Meeting their parents

☕️ Coffee • Morning kisses

🍵 Tea • Sick day

🧋Boba tea • Concert/music festival

🧃 Juice box • Coming out

🥤 Pop • Long-distance

🍸 Martini • Road trip/vacation

🥂 Champagne • Date night/anniversary

Snacks ~ Song Lyric Prompts

🍓 Strawberries • “Look at the stars // look how they shine for you // and everything you do” (Yellow, Coldplay)

🍌 Banana • “And I know that we can be so amazing // And baby your love is gonna change me // And now I can se every possibility” (Just Haven’t Met You Yet, Michael Buble)

🍇 Grapes • (All I got is one shot, one try // one go around in this beautiful life…) (Keep Me In The Moment, Jeremy Camp)

🍅 Tomatoes • “Cuz if I want you, and I want you, babe // Ain’t going backwards, won’t ask for space…” (Close, Nick Jonas)

🍊 Orange • “In the dark we’re barely holding on // then you rest your head upon my chest // and you feel like there ain’t nothing left…” (Flicker, Niall Horan)

🥕 Carrots • “If we ever broke up I’d call your dad // tell him all the shittiest of things you said…” (If We Ever Broke Up, Mae Stephens)

🫐 Blueberries • “Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life // say yes, say yes…” (Rude, Magic!)

🍉 Watermelon • “You don’t have to say you love me // you don’t have to say nothing…” (Adore You, Harry Styles)

🍐 Pear • “That seatbelt’s on your chest, hearing your heart, holding you down…” (Coffee, Tori Kelly)

🫑 Bell pepper • “

🫛 Pea pods • “Is it too late now to tell you that everything means nothing if I can’t have you…” (If I Can’t Have You, Shawn Mendes)

🫘 Beans • “If this is what it's like falling in love // then I don't ever wanna grow up…” (Kid in Love, Shawn Mendes)

🥜 Peanuts • “I’ll buy you anything // I’ll buy you any ring…” (Baby, Justin Bieber)

🍚 Rice • “But I knew you // trying to change the ending…” (Cardigan,Taylor Swift)

🧀 Cheese • “Here’s my number // so call me maybe…” (Call Me Maybe, Carly Rae Jepsen)

🍟 Fries • “Stop the clocks, it’s amazing // you should see the way the light dances off your head…” (Afterglow, Ed Sheeran)

🍳 Egg • “I know times are getting hard // but just believe me, girl // someday I’ll pay the bills with this guitar // we’ll have it good…” (Hey There Delilah // The Plain White T’s)

🥓 Bacon • Oh, I could have that voice playing on repeat for a week // and in this packed out room swear she was singing to me…” (Galway Girl, Ed Sheeran)

🍤 Shrimp • “There’s things I wanna say to you // but I’ll just let you live…” (Cinnamon Girl, Lana Del Rey)

🍣 Sushi • “I don’t want you to get lost // I don’t want you to go broke…” (Music For A Sushi Restaurant, Harry Styles)

🍥 Narutomaki • “Take me into your loving arms // kiss me under the light of a thousand stars…” (Thinking Out Loud, Ed Sheeran)

🥐 Croissant • “Touch my neck and I’ll touch yours // You in those little high-waisted shorts…” (Sweater Weather, The Neighborhood)

🥨 Pretzel • “When I first saw you from across the room // I could tell that you were curious…” (Perfect, One Direction)

🥯 Bagel • “Call me, baby, if you need a friend // I just wanna give you love…” (One Call Away, Charlie Puth)

🍬 Candy • “And when you smile // the whole world stops and stares for a while…” (Just The Way You Are, Bruno Mars)

🍭 Lollipop • “I met you in the dark // you lit me up…” (Say You Won’t Let Go, James Arthur)

🍫 Chocolate • “Strawberry ice cream // one spoon for two…” (Deja Vu, Olivia Rodrigo)

Sweets ~ Extra elements

🍰 Cake • Playful flirting

🍩 Donut • Kissing envelopes/love letters

🥧 Pie • Baking together

🍮 Custard • Sharing clothes

🥠 Fortune cookie • Sharing earbuds

🍪 Cookie • Sharing the last cookie

🥮 Mooncake • Holding hands in public

🍡Thing • Playing with each other’s hair

🍦Ice cream cone • Singing to lover

🍨 Ice cream dish • Feeling clingy

[albatris]

Writerly Questionnaire!

thank you @davycoquette for tagging me :3

About You

When did you start writing?

I started when I was a lil kid, probably about 6 years old!

Are the genres/themes you enjoy reading different from the ones you write?

No, they're much the same! Horror, sci-fi, fantasy, mystery :3

Can you tell me a little about your writing space(s)? (Room, coffee shop, desk, etc.)

It's just me n my laptop wherever we end up! Usually on the couch or in bed! I love writing in coffee shops but I'm often too anxious to be around other people ^^;

What’s your most effective way to muster up some muse?

Playlists, baby!! Or watching/reading something that scratches the same itch as the stuff I wanna write. Usually some good horror :3

Did the place(s) you grew up in influence the people and places you write about?

Oh, absolutely! My works are very Australian in nature!

Are there any recurring themes in your writing, and if so, do they surprise you at all?

There's themes of uhhhh.... isolation vs. connection, that's one that comes up a lot. Mental and physical illness too. The bendy nature of reality. Anti-capitalism. I'm often surprised when the same themes pop up over multiple works, since I don't often plan it that way haha

Your Characters

Would you please tell me about your current favorite character? (Current WIP, past WIP, never used, etc.)

My favourite character currently is Alex! Alex is from "A Rental Car takes a Left Down Rake Street and Disappears". It's a vampire lawyer who preys on despicable predators human society will never hold accountable. Alex is an intensely private person who prefers to keep to itself, but it's also deeply kind and always looking to help others when it can. It enjoys gardening, sleight of hand magic and expensive wines :3 Alex has my favourite character arc in the trilogy!!

Which of your characters do you think you’d be friends with in real life?

Ripley!! Her sense of humour is similar to my IRL best friend's. She's loud, boisterous and silly, and the fact that she talks so much means I wouldn't have to talk as much which is always a bonus c:

Which of your characters would you dislike the most if you met them?

Quinn. They're such a shady bastard. They'd hate me and I'd be scared of them lmao

How do you picture them? (As real people you imagined, as models/actors who exist in real life, as imaginary artwork, as artwork you made or commissioned, anime style, etc.)

Here they are!

The characters of my two main projects, drawn by me :3 A Rental Car takes a Left Down Rake Street and Disappears on the top and All the Doors are Open on the bottom!

Your Writing

What’s your reason for writing?

It's my way of communicating with the world and connecting to others!

Is there a specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating coming from your readers?

When people tell me they resonate with my stories in terms of, like, shared experiences... I love that! Some of the comments I still think about all the time have been from fellow psychosis-havers telling me they resonate with my depictions of psychosis or that my stories made them feel less alone. But I adore all comments!

How do you want to be thought of by those who read your work? (For example: as a literary genius, or as a writer who “gets” the human condition; as a talented worldbuilder, as a role model, etc.)

I wanna be thought of as... spooky... >:3

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Characters and worldbuilding! By worldbuilding I don't mean Creating Worlds (I suck at that) but crafting unique premises and putting my own spin on things like vampire lore and interdimensional portals :3

How do you feel about your own writing? (Answer in whatever way you interpret this question.)

I'm very happy with it!

If you were the last person on earth and knew your writing would never be read by another human, would you still write?

Probly. I think I'd go stircrazy without it. It's my way of understanding and processing the world and my feelings on it. Plus I'd get bored otherwise.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely what you enjoy? If it’s a mix of the two, which holds the most influence?

Both! But I'd say I mostly focus on what I might enjoy!

[toomuchracket]

It’s me halla sideblog problems. Anyway just spitballin here cuz you know that’s my favorite couple:

Matty thinks book award ceremonies are different from things like the Brit’s or NMEs or whatever

He re-directs the conversation back to bragging about her any time attendees ask him about his job during chitchat

He keeps making eyes at her and like giggling and being cheeky.

Possibly walks her up the stairs/ onto the stage cuz heels?

When they’re alone he unbuttons his shirt and tells her to autograph his chest jokes that it’s so he can get it tattooed

Gets really into the gossip like “have you heard what X writer was offered as an advance? Rumor has it the publishers owned by his ex” or like “I asked about y author’s next book. Don’t worry you’ll win again cuz your next one is way better.” Etc etc etc

hello halla my love <3 let me muse on each of your musings!

book award ceremonies are "so fucking classy. god. you're slumming it hanging around with me, sweetheart", according to matty, and you just giggle and say "yeah, you're only here cos you look hot on my arm" and then kiss him and whisper "kidding. i'm actually in love with you and you're the only person i want here with me". naturally, he swoons lmao

yes, he redirects convos back to you - however, he will also talk about the extensive number of songs he's written about you since he met you, just to add to the Gushing About You to anyone he talks to. also though - ridiculously complimentary to the other nominees he talks to (because of course he read their work "just so i can see who you're gonna beat, babe", and actually he liked a lot of it. some of it was shit. he's less nice to those people lol). sweetie pie

oh, matty's absolutely making eyes at you the whole night - not when you accept your award, because he's too busy crying, but the rest of the night he's staring at you adoringly and smiling like "hi. you're beautiful. come home with me?", and giggling when you roll your eyes but smile and say "if you make it worth my while, yeah".

the stairs thing is very impromptu - when you and matty are standing and hugging after they announce your name, you whisper "hold my hand until i get up there, please. so overwhelmed i think my legs aren't gonna work". he obliges, of course, kissing your hand when you go up alone to make your acceptance speech before hurrying back to his seat to listen to it (and weep).

the shirt unbuttoning! the two of you have a little moment in the hallway between the ceremony and the afterparty, and after he's kissed you for like 8 minutes straight matty's like "omg i have an idea" and starts undoing his buttons. you're like "babe i love you but we cannot fuck here lol", and matty's like "nah i want you to autograph me so i can get it tattooed and prove i'm your biggest fan. and also so everyone knows i belong to you". you just laugh and kiss him and say "please don't do that. but i'll sign your tit for you later lmao", and matty's like "alright lol. but i do want you to write me a tattoo at some point, darling", and you're like "i could do that. talk when we get back to the hotel? i want some champagne now lol"

thinking about him gossiping is SENDING me. "he's getting THAT amount of money from an indie publishing house run by his ex? fuck me. surely he's blackmailing the poor woman. he's not getting that off of pitching something promising, that short story collection he just did was a load of shite", and after he hears about someone else's plans he's in your ear like "derivative and also pedestrian. you've got nothing to worry about" - you're like "you're such a bitch i want to marry you", and he's like :D lmao. love these ideas halla tysm!! <3

[twstbookclub]

How Oblivious Are You?

Summary: Cater helps you figure out your feelings for someone, but you're oblivious and his patience is really running low POV: 2nd POV Pronouns: Gender Neutral Admin/Writer: Kai ⚔ Tags: Cater Diamond, Platonic, Crackhead writing, unserious, i didn't take this fic seriously with proper grammar, it's supposed to make you laugh, Cater is my spirit animal, oblivious reader, will this get continued??? Word Count: 993

Cater sat criss-crossed on your bed, and stared blankly at you with his eyebrows raised. He was there for one reason and one reason only: talk to you and see what the gossip around the Heartslabyul dorm was about.

Just minutes before, he sent you a text saying, "I'm on my way." Those words? Didn't mean anything. He was already busting your door down by the time you read it.

"Cater..?" You asked while also staring dead into his eyes. You were nervous as to why he was there.

"So, my eyes and ears have been catching some behavior from someone we know. Do you know something?"

"Huh? Someone we know?"

"Mhm, but that's not what I want to ask. Do you have a crush on anyone, Prefect?" Cater tilted his head, a mischievous smile on his face.

You blushed at his question and thought about it openly.

"Well… I’m not exactly sure if I do…" You looked at Cater for a reaction, only to be met with a frustrated look in his eyes as he squinted.

"And who is this "not exactly sure"??" He tilted his head, anticipating an answer.

"It's complicated-"

"OH MY SEVEN. GIVE ME A NAME."

"DEUCE SPADE!"

You blurted and even surprised yourself. Deuce? Why did you say Deuce if he hadn't shown interest in you? Or did he? Seven, this was new to you too.

Cater was silent, but he stood up from your bed. Tension was so thick that a knife couldn't even compare for a way to cut it.

"Deuce…"

Cater walked around your room, slowly, and it felt suffocating. You couldn't read his thoughts like you usually could.

"And you didn't tell me?!"

"I didn't know!"

"Deuce never showed interest!"

"How could you not know?"

"Oh, you've got to be fucking kidding with me."

"What? I don't see any indication that he has!"

Cater's jaw dropped. Not in shock, but in utter offense.

"Seven, give me patience…" He sighed and rubbed between his eyes. He blinked a few times to gather his thoughts.

"Okay," Cater started. "There is a reason you said his name, and even if you don't know that reason. I'm gonna tell you straighter than a piece of pencil led."

You listened carefully with a small head nod.

Cater put on a sweet, soft smile. His eyes also smiled as he placed his hands on your shoulders so gently as if you were a glass painting.

You returned his smile, but something in your gut was screaming "RED ALERT, RED ALERT" at 100 miles an hour to run.

Cater's expression turned into a dead-eyed look after, faster than you could process.

"HE HAS LIKED YOU FOR SEVEN KNOWS HOW LONG. HE WALKS YOU TO CLASS. WILL BUY YOU SNACKS FROM THE SHOP. DENIES EVERY OTHER BEING ALIVE. DEUCE. LOVES. YOU. CAN'T YOU SEE IT? HOW ARE YOU SO DENSE? I THOUGHT HE WAS DENSE, BUT HE CLEARLY HAS COMPETITION. YOU BOTH ARE PERFECT FOR EACH OTHER."

Your body was shaken like some kind of life-size doll. Cater was merciless on you with how blunt he was. It felt like a major whiplash. Still, he wasn't done.

"YOU BOTH HAVE BEEN FLIRTING. THE BEHAVIOR I HAVE WITNESSED WAS FROM HIM, AND HE WANTS TO ASK YOU OUT, BUT THE GUY DOESN'T KNOW HOW. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?"

He finally lets you go, but not without helping you get back on your feet. You felt dizzy and your insides felt like they'd been turned into a milkshake.

It was a bit scary to see Cater in such a way, but you couldn't leave him hanging either.

"I mean, I don't know! This is new, and my brain feels like mush after being shaken like a snowglobe!"

"Alright! Fine. What do you want me to do?"

"Oh! I'm sorry! Please allow me to ease your pain and get rid of your woes with a pain relieving spell!" His sarcasm made you groan and try to think.

"Tell me what you think about Deuce," Cater suggested while pulling out his phone, opening a notes app.

"Well…"

"Well? It's just you and me in this room. Let it all out."

"Okay, okay. No more stalling."

You took a breath and let your emotions speak.

"I don't mind that Deuce is the only one who puts his attention on me. I don't mind that he buys only me snacks, but I did find it weird how he always rejected everyone else, yet would always accept my request."

Cater listened and wrote down your points, but then stopped halfway, letting you continue.

"He's nice, and sweet. Caring, funny, a bit of a troublemaker, but that's not a problem at all… I did question at one point why my heart would race whenever he was close to me, or why I would feel jealous if he suddenly got pulled away from my side. I just always thought this was normal, but I still don't know what it is."

You let out a sigh of relief as you felt a heavy weight was being lifted off your shoulders after revealing your emotions. You looked at Cater to see his reaction…

Only to be met with a Cater giving you a look that says, "There is no way you didn't know."

"What?"

"You like Deuce, dude."

"Is that what that is?"

"WHAT? YOU STILL—OH MY SEVEN."

Cater turned you around and pushed you out of the door, making your body face the Heartslabyul dorms.

"Go. March onward to the past delinquent, and ask him out. Just go 'Deuce, go out with me' and all is solved. Go on." His voice mimicked your own as he pushed you, closing the door.

"And don't come back until you ask him, I'll be watching you…"

He said the last part with an ominous tone and you quickly walked off to Heartslabyul, and going off to quickly find Deuce.

Well. Here goes nothing.