#can't believe i had enough actually started and in progress to share lines from

[dyrewrites]

Writing Patterns Tag Game

@owlsandwich got me, and I don't know if I've done this one...so let's check it out!

I am tagging @aziz-reads and @stesierra =P

Rules: List the first line(s) from your last 10 WIPs/fics and see if there is a pattern.

I'm counting anything unpublished as a WiP, so we'll see how many that gets me. >.>

We're ignoring Prologues and starting in first chapters, so...I dunno.

Before Deluca (sidestory // companion to a series)

1700 held promise for my hometown—a tiny seaside port near the tip of Calabria, in Southern Italy, you need not know which—we had seen some fame and a great deal of loss and were running headlong into a fresh year with a fresh century on top.  But right then it was not yet 1700, it was the eve of the last night of 1699 and I, well, I was pensive, cautious, perhaps even cynical while I stood gazing at the moonlit sea. My family consisted of silk traders; producers and vendors and while I contributed to their business for thirty of my forty-five years…I had nothing to show for it. Nor did I particularly want anything. Being foreman had served me well for the last fifteen of those years, and I earned much in my place among my workers, not only their respect and admiration but valuable skills I could take anywhere.

Pale Blood (first in a series)

The city of Dolor reached, with all its metal fingers, for the bright hot eyes that warmed it. Eyes too weary, too ancient, to worry of the lives that scurried under their gaze. But those lives worried of them and of the grand and terrifying wyrm that bore them. Or they should have. On the whole, those desperate to avoid the wyrm’s glare were the ones to take note of its sinewy, slithering sky long enough to be concerned. And it is one such desperate soul that our tale begins with. Well...half of such a soul—though fully desperate—as through no fault of his own he was born an abomination. Half bloodsucking fang, half man, and entirely too tired to care which one had decided to make him their doormat on any given evening.

Weald and Wen (first in a series)

Mar's life-choked Shell delayed its weary orbit and the pale burn of the Lady's Heart, ever-pulsing in its violet sky, beat faster. But it did not do so in the blush expected of a rising firstlight. It had shone in gentle hues long enough that rotation, warming the life around it in soft pinks and cool blues…and the Heart yearned to sear. And sear it did, to raging fuchsia, burning hotter with the dreams of its sleeping captive to usher in a dreaded cycle of Full Bright. Relucent heartlight swelled with the culmination of its desire. Then it burst upon all the lands and seas that stretched and clawed and sloshed within the Shell. It radiated from the Heart in jagged spears to burn up every scrap of life that dared step into its path. Harder still it shined upon the woods of the Weald, catching and spreading to scald the myriad leaves of its canopies, to scorch all but its deepest shadows.

Rite of the Dinfa (novella // Mar sidestory)

They packed us tight in the chill cave, with its bone white walls shining and wavering beneath the firelight, darkened by a single dancing shadow. Bare as we were, and huddled to braided, our flesh kept us heated more than the meager light of the smoking wood as the Cardinal leapt and spun—our Cardinal, as ourselves, could be whatever they wished but right then they were she. And she threw all four of her slender arms up and out and bent her back further than her wrinkled skin and creaking joints suggested possible. She was consumed by her tale as much as empowered by it, flailing and moaning with each shared memory. Her branched antlers scraped the walls and the vines of her hair slapped and snapped against her naked flesh…and her scars gleamed. Many of us fleshlings had heard whispers, murmurs of how the Dinfa began but here she writhed—the first of us—to share it in her own words. With her own flesh. 

Notes in the Undersong (first of a series -- this may not be the first lines later but they are right now so we countin' it)

“You know what would be great, Sarah? You know what would be great? If the walls could stop fucking bleeding, Sarah!” Despite my insistence, the blood ran thicker from the ceiling, forcing me to snatch my beaker off the burner for the third time before that glowing shit ruined another potion. “Oh, I'm sorry, miss Ash, is the eternal sorrow of my miserable afterlife interrupting your oh-so-important work?” The moaning echo on that woman was impossible, right through the walls, the floor, my godsdamned skull. But I had work, important work, and brewing potions tended to go a lot smoother when one didn't have to keep moving the beakers to keep spectral blood from tainting the magic. “You know damn well it is!” I screamed upward, more than aware how little it mattered which direction I faced, she'd hear me, she always heard me, “And that sorrow is a fucking joke, you were over that faeshit of a man at least fifty years before I got here. So can the waterworks, or I'm getting the chains!”

Gravedust (standalone novel)

They say that, in my line of work, there are no accidents. That is true. There are eons of intent and planning. You have to make it look like an accident, however, or the critters start to get suspicious. Natural disasters are the easiest, of course, but you try getting all of that chaos to line up in just the right way every time you need it to. The second best are crashes; whether plane, train, ship or automobile. A crash is hard to top, plenty of shades available to paint the scene you want without drawing any attention. These divisions are considered menial labor, any fresh bag of bones off the rack can handle faulty brakes and an icy road. The real work is the stuff none of the other bonebags like discussing, because they are messy and ugly, and slow. Too much watching and waiting. I enjoy the oddity, however and find the extreme emotion involved fascinating. We feel nothing in our bones, not for ourselves or our charges…but for those brief moments attached to a life there is a hint. A brief, succulent sip of humanity. Be it those tortured by internal agonies that ultimately do our job for us, those that take their aggression out on one another, or criminals and the heroes that lock them away—ever in turmoil, teetering on the edge of the blade. Their taste is a bittersweet sunset on a chilly autumn eve.

Ruddy Cheeks (standalone novel)

It was warm, balmy and bright that summer. The sort of weather that itches, that burns redhot on any bare scrap of skin not slathered in sunscreen. An average summer for the land without seasons. The city of sun and sea, of transplanted palm trees and overreaching cartoon mice… And it was during that painfully average summer that Lexi died. Her heart continued to beat after, her blood pumped, her neurons fired and she even reacted to outside stimuli. She smiled, she laughed, when appropriate, when expected. But, despite her best efforts, Lexi wasn't alive and, as she stared into the too-clean mirror of her bathroom at the emptiness overtaking her eyes, she worried. No, she concluded, with absolute certainty; she never would be again.

Mr. Friendly (children's story)

Tap, Tap, Tap There it was again, coming from somewhere in Maisy’s room, somewhere she couldn't see. Was it in the walls, in the floors? Daddy told her nothing was in the closet. He even checked, twice! Still the tapping came, softly, like little claws on hardwood. Tap, Tap, Tap The kitty made that sound sometimes, when his nails were too long. Is it Teddy, tip-tapping through the halls...? Mrreow! As if he could hear her thinking about him there was Teddy, her big orange fluff, and in a few not-so-graceful motions he was up in her bed and snuggling her face with his. "Silly ol' thing, can't even jump right," She said, in a well-meaning sort of way, as she pet his head. She loved the furry old thing, even if he wasn't very good at being a cat.

The Roommate (short)

I'm starving. It's been a week now since you went shopping, since you made a meal, and there's nothing to eat. Nothing to sup or chew or even gnaw.  And I see you, every day I see you, in this deafening quiet that used to be our home. You leave our bedroom, eyes forward, steps stiff and dig in a closet by the kitchen. Rope then in hand, you check the front door but you don't open it.  On your way back to the room you turn on every light. They're blinding, crackling, begging to burn out and still you leave them on. You're in there now, again, you've shut yourself in. Alone. I cry and scream and still you stay inside that room. You won't let me in. But I know you'll be out again tomorrow. You'll get the rope and check the door and turn on every light and shut yourself away.

You're Here, Good, Good (flash fiction I want to expand into a short, so I'm counting it >.>)

"You're here, good, good." The voice is rich, deep and soothing, but its source is unknown; out of reach, vibrating at the edges of consciousness. What was darkness, whole and absolute, burns away in brilliant whites and the voice speaks again. "Come in, yes, right there please. That's it." But that isn't it, is it? The voice pushes inside, singing its throaty song directly through every thought, every worry, and every nerve. It is cold and wriggling; too sharp, too rough. No, that isn't it at all. "You are not what we requested," the voice speaks, the soothing lilt of it returned—full and bright as the light that heralds it. "But…we can change that." Darkness pours through the bright and it is thick and black and endless. What felt as ground, as some semblance of stability is lost with the shadows that build–that grasp and coil. They devour all else, those shadows, until all that is left to see, to feel, to hear is... Nothing, the voice presses, insistent, its tone even but echoed as it smothers all else. There is nothing, and then…there is you.

[an-au-blog]

Omg!

Really loved the idea of East blue asylum. I have a few questions about it! (If you are willing to hear me out of thought about it, haha) First. Is Sabo really dead or is something like in the Canon where Luffy (and Ace before whatever happened to him) thought he was, but he actually wasn't? (A part of me would love the latter, but the first scenario is also very plausible). Second, I'm wondering about the other East blue villains? We know about Arlong, but the rest? (This isn't me asking about Buggy, of course not, haha)

(Thought I have an idea about the clown also related with Shanks because Shuggy: He was previously interned right after Roger's death, and with help he was able to recover. Maybe that was the reason Shanks recommended the place to intern Luffy in first place, giving him his straw hat and assuring him they've seen each other again once he fully recovered, making a parallelism with the Canon. Now the clown (like Franky) is a volunteer that helps whenever he could and Luffy loves to bicker with him because of his funny reaction about his red nose.)

Anyway! You can take it or not! He could also be a patient, I think that could work too!

Thanks for sharing the idea!

Oh! I'm happy you liked it!

Sabo is considered dead in this au, and just like in the series, both Luffy and Ace had a hard time coping with it and could "see him" from time to time. Losing a second brother down the line was what made him snap. And although I kept Ace's death like in canon, I moved it around a bit to make it the reason to trigger Luffy's disorders. And the series starts when he comes into the hospital.

In reality, Sabo isn't really dead. He almost died in a house fire but by the time they rescued him he had hit his head and gotten temporary amnesia. He grew up trying to remember who he was and by the time he did, he felt like he abandoned his brothers and felt like he couldn't barge back into their lives. Luffy was going to become a firefighter because of what happened to Sabo and Ace was volunteering for safety patrols. They had entire lives that he was no longer part of, but he just couldn't resist going to the funeral. Good thing he managed to outrun his brother.

(for people with no context: here)

Technically, keeping Sabo dead would make more sense in the real world, but I think it'd be more interesting and a bit more sad if he wasn't and Luffy kept seeing him. The first time he saw him was a bit before Ace's death. He told his big brother but he just went "I know, I sometimes see him as well... Like a mirage of the kid we used to love," but Luffy's just like "No, I saw him as an adult! He was real!" And it was a bit concerning but they decided, oh well, he's been a bit of an odd child anyway. But then Ace died and Luffy ruined the funeral because he was supposedly chacing his other brother. It was bad enough that he went in a state of shock for a full three days, but this was too much... Everyone keeps telling him that they're both dead. Accidents happen. But he refuses to believe it and slowly starts creating this makeshift world to fit the trauma of losing his family.

It got worse when he found out he got admitted into a facility. I believe he goes to visit him later on under a fake name, but tells him that he can't tell anyone he's alive. He said it mainly because he knew they'd probably think he was losing progress and double his pills.

As for the rest of the villains (Buggy)... The marines are just guards who won't let him leave - or in Luffy's eyes, suppressing his freedom. (Except for Garp, he's just his grandpa and he's in the military in real life as well. He comes to visit his grandson whenever he can but it's very painful for him.) Axehand Morgan is just an asshole guard who got fired for abusive behavior. His son had the same internship that Koby did and they both left after a while but would come back after some time later.

For captain Kuro, I think he'd just be one of Usopp's lies. Maybe he was an ex of Kaya's (before Usopp came along) who used her for her money and he told this big story about how he tried to kill everyone and how he saved the day and was all heroic for Kaya and sent him running for the hills. Luffy liked it so much that he put his own little spin on it and added himself to the story.

As for Buggy, I honestly didn't really think about it. But if I had to, I initially thought he could be a patient, but I didn't like that, so I thought "Maybe a guard", but that wasn't fitting either. But I think I got it! What would make a kid believe someone is a rival, become an ally, back to annoying kinda rivals and so on and so forth? Well I think one of his favorite uncle's exes would do just fine.

Outside of Luffy's world, Shanks and Garp have a normal relationship of tough love, the only thing Garp blames him for is spoiling Luffy and Ace too much. The boys have lived with Shanks for a long time and had seen a lot of his love life. His first love - Buggy, who was a part-time clown for kids' parties. Makino - who was Luffy's favorite because she would cook him tasty food, unlike Shanks who only ordered takeout. Mihawk - the cool goth, who was neurodivergent, (so is Luffy) so there was a kind of unspoken bond there. And then Buggy again.

In my mind, Shanks ran back to him after Ace's death for comfort. Buggy, now grown with a real job and no longer a part-time clown, stayed in Luffy's mind the evil clown who loved money and that's why he broke Shanks's heart. (Or that's how he saw it...)

...

But then I read yours as well and I liked it! I like the idea of him getting help after Roger's death. I think that maybe him or a parental figure were afraid that he was too emotional and could potentially get depressed. So he went to see a psychiatrist and they decided it's best to take him in for a little while, just to make sure he handles grief in a healthy way that wouldn't be harmful to himself or people around him. Maybe that's why he broke up with Shanks. But he was too embarrassed to tell him that he had such a hard time handling death, so he lied about it. He lied and made up a different reason to leave.

And now that I think about it, this - him knowing how hard loss can be, could be the reason why he was so willing to welcome Shanks again. Because he's been there and he knows that it hurts less if there's someone next to you and he wants to be next to Shanks.

Thanks for the ask! I'd love answering any other additional questions if you or anyone has :))

[ask-karlachbear]

(Psstt it's Rebby!)

Anyways, hi! So uhhh I'm 29, an INFP(The Mediator) personality type. They/Them

Some strengths that I agree with:

Loyal and devoted

Sensitive to feelings

Caring and interested in others

Works well alone

Value close relationships

Good at seeing "the big picture"

Some weaknesses:

Can be overly idealistic

Tends to take everything personally(I am a very sensitive person and cry really easily, I hate confrontation)

Difficult to get to know(I bottle things up in fear of being a burden)

Sometimes loses sight of the little things(I tend to get into my head, worrying about all the stresses in my life and forgetting that I shouldn't stress over things I can't control)

Overlooks details

Other details:

I have a somewhat similar past to Astarion, though it affected me differently than Astarion. Instead, my trauma causes me to fawn(people please), freeze, and run away when I get overwhelmed. I have yet to ever fight back. Because I know what that feels like to be yelled at, and well other things that I won't go into detail about.

I'm creative by nature. I love to write, read, listen to music, and sing(I would be a bard if I was in DnD world setting, lol). I also love thunderstorms and cuddling my cats. My love language is words of affirmation, physical touch, and gift giving. My sun sign is a Capricorn, moon is Scorpio, and rising is Cancer :)

-@astariondisapproves

you and wyll.

Wyll is literally sunshine wrote by a woman.

First of all you both share the same ideals, he's a very grounded man that cares for the other, that tries his best to live with kindness, and that doesn't stand back from what he believes.

His patience is key here cause he would allow you to bloom like a flower, he wouldn't push you to speak of something you are not ready for, but he will remind you that you can talk and vent with him whenever you want cause he WANTS to know when you are not ok, or when something went awry and you gotta find a solution. He will just give you daily reminders that he's a safe space for you.

He's also a very grounded man, when you start spiraling or panicking, he will help you find your way back in your steps to calm down. He has been on his own for so long that he had to learn those coping mechanisms that would put him back up right away, and he's gonna share those tools with you, he's gonna sit there and try everything to help you out as much as possible.

When you open up about your past, he's understanding. He will literally go above and beyond to make sure you will be comfortable around him. He'd actually suggest you have a chat with Astarion about it, as much as the vampire is wary about sharing his struggles with others, he would understand you and that enough sometimes is enough.. Astarion might not be the best influence, but he's surely gonna make you laugh with his self deprecating jokes, and Wyll loves when you laugh.

As i already saidm he will make sure he knows about your boundaries, he gets to know those signs that you are about to get overwhelmed and he will literally drop whatever he is doing to help you. You are having dinner with duke ravengard? He's gonna drop his fork and help you out, it's in his nature. He WILL put you first no matter how much you might tell him he doesn't need to worry, that you are gonna be ok. He's not gonna give a flying fuck.

Creative, you said? HE'S GONNA BE SO SUPPORTIVE. He would beta read whatever you are working on, asking you questions on your progress, on what you like about your projects. You are reading a book? He will literally lay next to you, and whenever you gasp at a line, he'd jump up and ask you what happened.

He'd ask you, no he'd beg you, to sing for him, he'd spend days just listening to your music. Sometimes he'd pull you for a dance, even if no music is playing, and he'd sway around with you.. and if you start humming while you are dancing with him? He's gonna be gone.. and i mean GONE.

He'd dedicate his time to praise you, care for you, and lavish you in love. His hands would be respectfully always on you one way or another, and he's gonna pull the moon off the sky for you if he needs to.

[yokohamapound]

Could we have some hcs of playing hard to get with Dazai Osamu please? <3

Of course! I hope you like these!

Characters: Dazai Osamu

Warnings: Suicide mention (because it's Dazai)

Dazai Osamu

Dazai is a consummate flirt. If he thinks you’re attractive, there’s literally nothing to stop him grabbing your hand and stroking it, his eyes sparkling, while he asks if you’ll use your lovely fingers to choke him. And not in a kinky way.

Well, maybe also in the kinky way.

Anyway, he’s infamous for hitting on clients, witnesses, and serving staff wherever he goes, much to Kunikida’s dismay. Let’s say you’re someone he sees on the regular, so a server at a bar or a cafe he likes to frequent. Maybe even a bartender.

Dazai’s well aware that he’s a handsome bastard, and he’s used his looks to do plenty of things—skip out on his tab, get better service, get his phone back from an overbearing nurse, get information, you name it. It doesn’t always land but his success rate is a good 80%. Enough to give him a sense of confidence when he clocks you and immediately dials up the charm to 11.

What I’m trying to say is…Dazai’s a whore. <3

This normally works for him. He's used to being able to wrap people—especially people that don't know him—around his little finger. So when he spots a new bartender at his favourite haunt, he's quick to latch onto you. This might be anything from a little suave charm to full-on uwu eyes, but…it doesn't work?

Dazai is unperturbed. You're not the first tough nut he's had to crack. He just needs to find another avenue of attack.

Dazai Osamu is not paying his tab.

Even if you're not downright cold toward him, he just can't crack your mask of professionalism. He can't build any kind of rapport with you and to his dismay, you treat him the way you would any other patron. It hurts his pride a little bit. (Don't worry, it can withstand a few jabs.) He ends the night without making any kind of progress, but Dazai's not discouraged.

He returns several times that week, and the next. Always charming, always trying to chat you up. He doesn't repeat the silly requests to strangle him and tones down the dramatic reactions (a bit, but not completely).

It frustrates him when he can't make any headway with you, but the more you stonewall him, the more determined he is. He relishes a challenge. Please note that he's not the type to go the way of harassment—he's a good customer (aside from his penchant for not paying) and his flirting is pleasant, charming, usually trying to draw you into conversation.

The longer you remain a mystery, the more he actually, genuinely wants to know about you. Dazai starts to look forward to swinging by the bar and tossing a few cheesy pick-up lines your way, just to see if he can get a reaction out of you. He gets a taste of victory the first time he sees you trying to hide a smirk while you shake up a cocktail for another customer.

"Aah, you like that one, belladonna? I've got plenty more where that came from."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" you retort.

Despite yourself, he starts to become one of your favourite patrons. Despite your resistance to his charms, he's very handsome, and you quite like having his lanky form lounging against your bar every evening. You kind of bask in his attention, even when you feel your will to resist him crumbling.

It takes a while, months even. At this point, Dazai flirts with you almost out of habit. The pair of you gossip about other regulars and your colleagues, and he occasionally shares tidbits about his daily life at the Armed Detective Agency. You're not sure whether you believe him half the time, it all sounds so farfetched.

You kind of meet in the middle. Dazai tones down his charm offensive, and you warm up to him, creating something more genuine between you. The conversation flows as easily as the drinks—he still hasn't paid his damn tab—and you sometimes perch on the barstool beside him to eat your lunch. He always steals some of your fried chicken snacks. Bastard.

"So," he asks one day, swirling his drink around the glass. "How about it?"

"This again?"

"I mean it this time!" Dazai protests, all innocence. "Just come grab some dessert with me. We don't even have to have a romantic float down the river together."

"…fine."

[joaquinwhorres]

hoax (Ch. 1) {Sirius Black x F!OC}

SUMMARY ››››› It started out as a simple bet: who could get the girl chosen for them first? After four years of half-hearted attempts, Sirius decides it’s time to make a concerted effort to win over the notoriously undateable Florence Saise.

WORD COUNT ››››› 4,100-ish

WARNINGS ››››› Pretty much every chapter is going to have mentions of sex. Including this one.

A/N ››››› I'm so thankful to every single person who responded to my incessant "does this line make sense?" or "can you read this to tell me what you think?" Without you guys this never would have been uploaded, and I'd never already have the start of a second chapter.

Series Masterlist | Read on ff.net | Read on AO3

Florence Saise was rather convinced that she was the only person not excited to find themselves back at Hogwarts. Everyone else seemed to be coping with the looming start of the school year just fine, if the laughter and shouts that greeted her as she flung open the carriage door was any indication. It was, by all accounts that mattered, (which is to say, hers) not fair.

The blonde haired girl jumped down from the horseless carriage, landing with a heavier thump than might have been expected from her small frame. Before her, masses of students cursed up the hill chattering to one another with smiles on their faces. Not one had the same little crease between their eyebrows that threatened to turn into a full-on scowl.

It was as if every single one of them had either forgotten the bullshit that came along with living amongst their peers or were still blissfully unaware of the curse that was adolescence. Even her friends, who hopped down out of the carriage behind her, seemed too entrenched in the debate that had stretched from the train compartment to the carriage, to fully register what being back at Hogwarts meant.

"You've been quiet, Lory, what do you think?" Marlene asked, throwing an arm around Florence's shoulder as the small group of girls joined the throng of students.

"If Sebastian doesn't know what to do with his tongue when kissing, there's not much hope for him using it elsewhere. You'd do better with Roger."

"Aha!" Marlene cried out triumphantly, pointing a finger at Mary. "That makes it two for Roger, one for Sebastian, and one for giving up on boys all together," she tallied as Florence shrugged out from under her arm. Lily appeared on Florence's other side, trapping Florence in the middle of the group.

"You can't just use physical stuff as the metric for whether or not a relationship will be any good," Lily asserted. "There's more to dating than snogging and sex."

"Says the person who's never properly snogged anyone," Marlene stage whispered to Mary.

"Exactly," Lily said, perhaps a little too passionately. "And look how fulfilled I am."

Marlene shot Florence a skeptical look, and Lily reached across her to smack at Marlene's arm. This started another round of fierce debating, Lily reminding Mary that Sebastian had written her once a week all summer whereas Roger had only written four times, Marlene reminding Mary that she didn't want to die a virgin, and Dorcas reminding Mary that she never had any of these problems with her girlfriends.

Florence felt a dull needling, like a knuckle digging into the side of her head. At this rate, she was going to have a headache before they even reached the castle.

The Gryffindor strode ahead of the group, near enough that she wouldn't catch any flack for abandoning them but far enough that she could more easily drown out their bickering. She would give anything for just a single moment of peace today. Between her father and brother waking her up with their argument to Lily and Marlene's stupid battle over who Mary should date, all Florence wanted was ten minutes where she didn't get roped into playing referee.

But as she looked up ahead on the path, her eyes landing on James Potter and his crew, it seemed like peace was not in the cards for her today.

The group of boys were laughing amongst each other as they subtly enchanted trees to tap students on the shoulder or grab an unsuspecting second year. It was, objectively speaking, rather funny to witness the reactions of their various victims. One boy let out a startled shriek so loud, Florence would have expected it to come from a banshee. Another girl was attempting to fight off a branch that kept pulling at her plait. The problem with Potter and them's joke was not so much the unrest it caused amongst the students ahead of Florence.

The problem was Lily.

"You have got to be kidding me," Lily sighed, cutting Marlene off mid sentence. "What's even the point in making Remus a prefect if he's going to let his friends get away with everything?"

Before any of the girls had a chance to talk Lily down, the prefect marched up the hill with impressive speed, her hair billowing behind her.

"I am not missing this," Marlene said eagerly, grabbing Mary by the hand and tugging her up the hill with her. Dorcas and Florence shared a look and a sigh, before following them after Lily.

"Potter!" Lily shouted, and the group of boys came to an abrupt stop, nearly causing the group of Ravenclaws behind them to collide with their backs.

"Ah the dulcet tones of Lily Evans," James Potter said as he turned around to face the fuming redhead, a smirk set firmly in place.

Lily pulled up right in front of him, chest heaving from her quick trip up the hill. "You are to stop using magic at once or else I'll be forced to give you detention."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Potter said, tilting his head and allowing confusion to overtake his features. Lily's scowl deepened, clearly not buying the act. "I think you and I are both aware that it's against the rules to use magic before term starts, and we're not even at the castle yet."

Behind him, Pettigrew and Black snickered. The sound seemed to bolster James Potter's already rampant egotism as the smirk returned once more to his face.

"Unless of course, you're saying that I've enchanted you. Do you find me bewitching, Evans?" Potter asked, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"I think I've made it quite clear what I think of you, James Potter," Lily snapped, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "10 points from Gryffindor."

"Ah, Evans," Potter tsked, as if regretting the fact that he would have to share bad news with her. "Prefects can't take points until the start of term. Learned that fourth year," he added on, dropping the sympathetic act.

Marlene nudged Florence with her elbow and held out her hand expectantly. Florence's eyes moved from the open palm to her friend's gaze, raising an eyebrow.

"I believe you owe me a hundred galleons," Marlene informed her, a smile tugging at her lips even as she fought to remain serious. "As James Potter has just confirmed that he has, in fact, learned something in his past five years here."

"That doesn't count," Florence said dryly, slapping Marlene's palm down even as Marlene grinned at her winningly. The stare off between a seething Lily and smug James was looking very much like it was about to end in a murder. Remus Lupin must have also caught onto this because he shook his head and finally stepped forward.

"Come on, let's at least make it to the castle this year before you and Lily have a row," he appealed, making a half-decent attempt at Prefect-like behavior.

Potter turned to his friend with a magnanimous smile. "Since you asked so kindly, Moony," Potter paused, shooting Lily a look. "I'll make sure there is no more confusion about whether or not we might have been doing magic. Watch carefully, Evans. I'm putting my wand in my back pocket. Feel free to track its progress up the hill," he added with a wink.

Lily let out a disgusted noise as Marlene snorted, and Potter turned to continue back up the hill with his friends, Sirius Black playfully pushing him as he rejoined the group.

"What a wanker," Lily murmured, watching the boys go.

"Maybe, but he's looking well fit," Marlene noted, taking Potter up on his offer to make sure his wand stayed in his back pocket. "You could do a lot worse than James Potter."

Lily whirled on Marlene, emitting a scandalized,  " Marlene! "

The dark haired girl laughed and shook her head. "Oh come off it, Lils, he's smart, funny, attractive, all of which is important to you, and," she looked around before leaning forward conspiratorially. "I've heard his wandwork isn't the only magical thing he can do with his hands." Marlene wiggled her fingers at Lily, who pulled back looking so pale that for a moment, Florence thought she might actually be sick.

Which was far too hilarious not to laugh at. So she did, earning a dark look from Lily and a shiteating grin from Marlene.

Lily rounded back on Marlene before shaking her head and starting back up to the castle.  "He's not funny; he's cruel. And he's only half as smart as he thinks he is."

"So you agree he's attractive?" Marlene asked, raising an eyebrow, and Lily's face turned bright red before she managed to sputter out a:

"Looks don't mean anything!"

"She's right," Dorcas added. Contributing to the conversation for the first time with the decisiveness that the girls had come to expect from her.  "Looks don't mean anything. But being good with his hands, well…"

Lily emitted a strangled sound somewhere between disbelief and mild outrage as the rest of her friends laughed at her and moved past on their way to the castle. A small feeling in Florence's chest loosened as she walked with them, the conversation alternating between teasing Lily and debating between Roger and Sebastian. Maybe this year wouldn't be quite as bad as the past five.

Naturally, the hope of a better year was squashed the very next day.

This, of course, should have been expected. After all, the first day of classes was primarily meant for overloading students with work they weren't yet prepared for and reminding them that their very futures depended on the mastery of the material. However, those spiels were not the giveaway that this year would be more or less the same in terms of teenage bullshit as the years prior. What it really came down to was her Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

The death of her hope began the moment she walked into the classroom and was faced with an obscenely tall and lanky man, dressed in a smart tweed suit with his chin length hair tucked behind his ears. A name was written in halting cursive on the chalkboard behind him.

Oleander Fernsby.

It was a ridiculous name for what was, by all indicators, a ridiculous man.

Although, as Florence watched the way his eyes darted around the classroom, shooting away every time a student got too close to making eye contact, she began to think that perhaps ridiculous was the wrong word. It suggested a certain confidence that this man in front of her was severely lacking.

It was painful to watch really, seeing him hoist the corners of his mouth up just to seem to lose his grip and have the smile come crashing down again. Both of his hands were shoved into his pants pockets, the right one fiddling with something it found in there so that the pocket almost seemed to flutter with his nervous energy. Even as she sat down next to Marlene, Florence couldn't take her eyes off of this clear disaster waiting to happen.

"This is going to be interesting," Marlene noted with raised eyebrows as she tapped her quill tip on the desk. "Reckon he'll make it the whole year?"

"Reckon he'll make it to the end of the month?" Florence returned, and Marlene snorted.

The last of the students shuffled into the room, claiming desks next to their friends and casting skeptical looks up at the unusual choice for professor. Even Remus Lupin looked unsure about Dumbledore's choice as he sat with eyebrows raised and a slight frown on his face.

The professor cleared his throat, which was completely ineffective when it came to quelling the murmurings of students sizing him up.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice dipping down into a mumble on the last syllable. As could be expected, the class' attention remained on their own conversations.

" Merlin's beard," Dorcas muttered under her breath from behind Florence. The professor furrowed his brow, a look of resolve on his face before trying again.

"Good morning." He had added a bit of volume and force assertiveness to his voice, but it wasn't until Potter hit Black on the shoulder and gestured with his head to the professor that the talking in the room tapered off. Faced with a room of quiet students, he succeeded in finally managing a weak smile.

"Good morning," he repeated, his voice soft but steady at least. "I'm Professor Fernsby, and I'll be teaching you Defense Against the Dark Arts this year."

It was hard to imagine this particular wizard ever standing up against the dark arts. He looked like he could hardly manage a boggart let alone a hag or Lethifold. Even faced with a room full of bored teenagers, he was crumbling under the pressure. Across the room Peter Pettigrew snickered, and Fernsby's expression faltered.

"I know that I am a new face here, and you've had five other professors, but I hope that together we'll have a good year this year and learn a lot."

Florence snorted and either Lily or Dorcas (probably Lily) jabbed a finger into her back in scolding.

Fernsby's smile flickered, and he paused. "Erm, yes. I know that this is your second class of the day, and it's early. The first years were all practically asleep at their desks this morning, but this is an NEWT-level class, so we will be covering rather complicated and dark material--oh! Yes, you there," Fernsby said, gesturing towards a student in the back. Florence turned, watching as Cassius Avery lowered his hand, a self-satisfied smirk already twisting at his lips.

"Can you explain what you mean by 'dark,' professor?"

The classroom went so still even Fernsby seemed to notice, his pocket fluttering once more.

"Well, we'll learn about the Unforgivable Curses. How to battle Inferi--"

"Will we be learning more about the Dark Arts themselves?" Avery interrupted, tilting back his chair so that it leaned against Thaddeus Nott's desk.

Fernsby's eyes flicked around the classroom as if looking for help from one of the students, but everyone remained still and quiet, watching to see what would happen. Florence set her jaw as she looked back at Avery who was looking rather smug. Beside him there was a glint in Thomas Mulciber's eye as if he were watching an animal fall into a trap.  "I'm not sure that would be entirely appropriate--" Fernsby started.

"I was just thinking that we should know how the Dark Arts work and such so we can properly defend ourselves?" Avery clarified and beside him Mulciber smirked. Florence's hand curled into a fist on her desk. "I mean, you want us to be prepared, don't you, professor? We need to know--"

"Avery you smarmy little git, would you shut up?" Florence snapped, and the eyes of the class shot over to her. But she was just looking at Avery whose eyes flashed angrily. "Even he's not thick enough to teach you how to curse someone. Go ask your dad. Or is he too busy shagging his cousin--I'm sorry, your mum."

There was a beat of silence as the whole class seemed to collectively hold its breath before across the room, Sirius Black broke out into a loud barking laughter, muffling whatever Avery snarled at Florence.

"Pardon?" she asked, arching an eyebrow, and though he opened his mouth to say it again, it wasn't Avery's voice, but Fernsby's she heard next.

"That is--that is quite enough," the professor finally interjected, and Florence turned around, ready for her detention or points to be docked, but as Fernsby's eyes landed on her and she met them with a fierce unrepentance, he wet his lips and moved on.

"Merlin's beard," Marlene whispered to Florence. "Been holding onto that for a while, haven't you?"

"After what he and Mulciber did last year to Mary, he's lucky I haven't set him on fire," Florence mumbled. "Last thing we need is that lot learning about the Dark Arts so they can practice on muggleborns."

Marlene nodded her agreement, and the two focused back on Fernsby who was presently taking attendance.

Class continued and with it the growing feeling that someone was attempting to stare daggers into the back of her head. When she finally turned with a raised eyebrow, she found that not only was Avery glaring at her, but Mulciber and Nott had also joined in their friend's effort. She gave the three of them the most saccharine smile she could muster and lifted a middle finger towards them. When she turned back to Fernsby, he was in the middle of listing his credentials and previous places of employment..

He had just finished on how formative his time in the Azkaban processing unit was when James Potter began to loudly pack up his bag. "And erm..." Professor Fernsby stopped, watching as Potter corked his inkwell and dropped it into his bag. "Mr….Potter was it?"

Potter looked up, "Oh, I'm sorry, Professor," he said, his face genuinely apologetic. "I thought you were about done."

"Done?" Fernsby asked. While the word might have cracked like a whip from McGonagall or Kettleburn, instead it came out rather helpless as he looked appealingly to Potter for an explanation.

"It's just that usually professors keep class short the first. To get us acclimated to the school schedule again, you know."

Fernsby said nothing, looking out over the class to see nods of assent. Even Dorcas kept quiet.

"He's right," Marlene said from next to her, and Florence's attention whipped to her friend. "Although usually they make us stay at least half the block," she added with a reproachful look to James.

"Ah, well, I suppose here is as good a place to stop as any," Professor Fernsby said. "Come ready to learn, as I will be picking up the pace as the year progresses."

He seemed rather proud of himself, Florence thought as she along with her classmates scurried to pack up their books before anyone could possibly grow a guilty conscience. He probably thought the early dismissal was a sign of kindness and not what it really was: blood in the water.

Shouldering her bag, Florence headed out behind Lily and Dorcas into the hallway.

"We're not going to learn anything all year," Dorcas moaned, tossing her head back to stare miserably at the ceiling.

"It's going to be an easy O at least," Lily sighed. "And besides, next year it'll be someone new. Maybe they'll be able to catch us up."

Dorcas wilted a little, head coming back down to face forward with a pout tugging down her lips. "I suppose."

Marlene looked disbelievingly at the group. "Are we really not going to talk about Avery?"

"Do we have to?" Mary asked with a shudder. "He's so creepy. "

"That whole group is destined for Azkaban," Lily murmured, shaking her head.

"Not if Lory gets to them first," Marlene countered, smirking.

Florence shrugged, "I already told you I didn't think Fernsby had the backbone to tell him no."

"Right, but going after his dad like that?" Marlene pressed, raising her eyebrows at Florence as if to prompt an explanation.

"Everyone knows the Sacred Twenty-Eight's inbred," a voice drawled from behind the group. Lily rolled her eyes, letting out an annoyed sigh through her nose as Potter, Black, Remus, and Pettigrew interspersed themselves amongst the girls. "After all, you're looking at someone whose father shagged his cousin. Thankfully all of the negative effects of my parents' decision to procreate saved themselves for Regulus. Florence snorted at this, and Marlene barked out a laugh. Even Lily's lips quirked up into a reluctant half smile. "I have to say, Saise, that was a thing of sheer beauty in there. I think I might have even fallen in love with you a little," Black grinned.

Florence rolled her eyes and shook her head, even as the grin stayed on her lips. "I hope you're prepared for heartbreak then. Pettigrew, I'd start collecting chocolate frogs now, he's going to need them."

A quick confusion crossed Pettigrew's face as he darted a glance at Black, as if to ask if Florence was serious. But his friend was too busy throwing a hand over his heart and staggering back as if wounded.

"Should I get some chocolate frogs too, Evans? Or are you planning on sparing my heart this year?" Potter asked, grinning winsomely at Lily.

She gave him a tight lipped grin back, tilting her head towards him. "You should get as many as you can and stick them in your bag. That way, every time you have even the faintest impulse to ask me out, you can take one out and shove it in your mouth to save us both the trouble."

With that, Lily brushed her hair over her shoulder and moved forward to link arms with Florence, turning them both around to march down the hallway and away from their heartbroken boys.

"I think there was progress," James said, piling potatoes onto his plate once the boys had sat down for lunch. The past forty-five minutes that they should have spent in Defense Against the Dark Arts had been devoted instead to James' eternal pining over Lily Evans. "She didn't call me any names."

"Didn't need to, mate," Sirius said, snagging the serving spoon from James. "Her face and tone of voice largely did that for her."

"Yeah? What'd it say?" James asked, raising an eyebrow as he watched Sirius spoon potatoes next to his sausage.

Sirius straightened up in his seat, pointing the spoon at James. "It said, James Potter, you are a complete tosser," he said, mimicking Lily's high voice, much to the amusement of both Remus and Peter.

James looked down the table to where Lily tossed her head back laughing at something Mary Macdonald said. The lack of outright animosity had been progress, but she still didn't look at him with even a fraction of the warmth she gave to everyone else. Lily caught sight of him and the smile slid from her face, settling into a look of pure disdain before she turned back to her friends and said something that made Marlene McKinnon almost spit out her pumpkin juice.

"Well at least I can say I'm trying," James protested, turning back to face Sirius.

"Trying what? To get Lily Evans to hex your arse halfway 'cross the country?" Sirius asked. "Because that is about the only thing you're set to succeed at with her."

James scoffed before growing serious.  "I'm trying to win the bet."

Sirius raised his eyebrows at his best friend, and even Peter seemed to have checked back in to the conversation. Remus however let out a groan and set down the book he'd been reading so he didn't have to listen to James going on about Lily. "I thought you two had given that up."

"It was just on hiatus for a while," Sirius dismissed, picking up his fork to dig into his lunch. "Because unlike Prongs, I don't have to spend years just to get Saise to tolerate being in the same room as me."

"And yet," James said, picking up his own fork. "You still haven't won."

"Well, I've been a bit too busy with other matters to be worried much about the birds?"

"Like what?" Remus asked, picking his book back up.

"Largely, being the family disappointment," Sirius remarked with some finality as he bit into his sausage.

James just laughed at this. "Please, you have about as much interest in dating as Saise does. One of you is going to call it quotes before you can even go public--let alone last two weeks."

"All I'm saying is that at least Saise doesn't actively detest the very sight of me," Sirius shrugged, taking another bite of his food.

"I'm making progress."

"Of course you are, mate," Sirius nodded, navigating the words around the mouthful of food.

James shook his head at Sirius, "Padfoot, when it comes right down to it , I don't even think you could get Saise out of her knickers, let alone date you."

Sirius scoffed. "Everyone can get her out of her knickers. Everyone practically has gotten Saise out of her knickers."

Remus looked up from his book, a frown tugging at his features. "That's an ugly thing to say Sirius," he scolded, but Sirius looked completely unrepentant.

"It's not like it's a secret that practically our entire year has shagged Florence. Everyone knows what she's like," Peter shrugged.

"Exactly. Thank you, Wormtail," Sirius said. "But if you're so certain I can't do it, Prongs, then you'd have no problem making a little add on to our bet. Right?"

"No problem at all," James said, smugly.

"Great," Sirius said, leaning forward on his elbows. "Let's talk terms."

[asian-hero]

Aizawa x Reader, where Aizawa's a full-on gentleman to his S/O? I can't see him actually being a 100% gentleman but the thought is wholesome- Please and thank you!

A/N: Hi I made this slightly more as a doting partner rather than a gentleman, I hope that’s alright! I feel like I took a few liberties with this one, but I hope you enjoy nonetheless

Also, he’s literally a reincarnation of Kakashi Hatake, aka the love of my life, so it’s safe to say that I love this man with all of my heart

Summary: Aizawa Shouta was not, by any stretch, a gentleman. All of his coworkers knew it, his students knew it, and he didn’t try to deny it. That’s why, when you stop in to drop off your forgetful husband’s lunch, the entirety of U.A. is shocked to see their scruffy, irritable teacher, turn into the worlds largest sap

Words: 1,651

If you were to ask anyone to describe Aizawa Shouta in one word, the most common answers you’d get would be sleepy, apathetic, reserved, or stern. But, there was no way, that any student, staff member, or civilian, would describe him as a gentleman. 

They weren’t wrong, per se. After all, Shouta was a rather gruff man, a little rough around the edges, and certainly unkempt. To an outsiders perspective, it almost seemed that he was unfit to teach, with how many hopeful students he’d expelled in the past. It also didn’t help that he seemed more like that hung over uncle at a family gathering that no one wanted to invite, but felt obligated to and didn’t think would show up. Though, to his students, they could see a bit of his softer side, no where near what you saw on a daily basis, but they saw that he wasn’t the man that everyone said he was. Even they could see how the seemingly grumpy man had a paternal instinct when it came to his students, albeit a little begrudgingly, but still, there were times where he acted more so like a father than a teacher. 

Despite this, if you asked Shouta’s students about whether or not they believed the man could be a typical doting partner, it’d be a hard no from all of them. It just, didn’t look right when they imagined it. How could their typically cold and abrasive teacher be a loving and doting partner when it came to his romantic relationships. Actually, how could their teacher get into a relationship in the first place? It didn’t seem possible to them. 

So, you can imagine the looks on the entirety of the U.A. faculty and students when you stepped onto school grounds, Eri’s little hand in one of yours, and a lunch box in the other. While walking onto the campus, you could feel the stares of everyone burning into the back of your skull, as if trying to figure out who you were. It wasn’t surprising, of course, as you and Shouta had never been too flashy and open about your relationship. Not only because it would put a rather large target on your back, but also because it was just the way the two of you were. You were okay with keeping your relationship quiet. However, just because the two of you kept your relationship quiet, didn’t mean that you were going to let your husband leave his lunch at home for what seemed like the twentieth time. No, if he was going to be forgetful, then you were going to deal with it like any loving wife would, by bringing it to him. Besides, he did say that he wanted you to come in at some point to talk more about rescue missions, so why not kill two birds with one stone?

A small tug on your hand pulled you out of your thoughts. Looking down at the small girl, you squeezed her hand gently.

“What’s up?”

“It’s Deku!” She stated, pointing towards a green haired kid.

Following her line of sight, you saw a face you recognized very well. It was the kid that Shouta would always talk about. The “problem child,” he called him. The one who broke all of his fingers in a fight during the sports festival. He seemed to notice the two of you, as he broke out into a smile, waving at Eri while walking towards the two of you.

“Eri!” He exclaimed, kneeling down to her height, “It’s nice to see you!”

While the little girl ecstatically greeted the boy, even pulling her hand out of your own grasp, you couldn’t help the small giggle that came out of you. It seemed to cause the boy, Deku, to finally look up at you. Standing up, he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Ah, sorry about that! I didn’t realize you were with her,”

You shook your head, your smile still playing on your lips. “No need to worry,” Extending your hand, you introduced yourself, “I’m (Y/N), it’s a pleasure to meet the hero Eri’s always talking about.”

He seemed to grow even more embarrassed, if that were even possible. Shaking your hand, he introduced himself as Midoriya Izuku, though he said that Deku was just as fine. Grabbing Eri’s hand once more, you pursed your lips, looking towards the gigantic school that seemed to dwarf the three of you. Looking back at the boy, you smiled.

“Hey, you’re in class 1-A, right?” It was merely a formality, you knew he was in 1-A.

When he nodded his head, you spoke once more, “Could you show me where it is? I need to speak with your teacher,”

It didn’t take much from you to get Deku to agree with you. After all, since you were already on campus, and had a guest pass, he figured that you were safe enough. As the three of you walked down the halls, you made small talk, asking about how his classes were, how difficult his teacher is, and many other school related things. You even heard from him about how he made candy apples for Eri one time, and although you already knew that story, it was nice to hear about how hard he worked to make the school festival enjoyable for her. 

By the time you had reached the classroom, it was nearly time for class to start. As you entered the classroom, you were taken aback by how noisy the class was. All of the students seemed to get along fairly well, with the exception of a few individuals, but even then, they seemed to be dragged into some conversations. When Deku went to take his seat, you saw as he was bombarded by two girls, most likely curious as to who he just walked in with. You decided that, rather than to stand in the middle of the doorway, you’d take a seat next to Shouta’s desk. Pulling Eri into your lap, the two of you waited for the man to come in, though it didn’t take long for him to enter. 

About five minutes after your arrival, the door to 1-A had opened once more, revealing your tired-looking husband. The entire class went silent, and it took him about ten seconds to realize that no, he wasn’t dreaming, and yes, you really were here, in his classroom. Walking towards you, he kneeled down, checking you over.

“Are you alright?”

You tilted your head to the side, a confused look on your face. “Of course I am, why do you ask?”

Starring at you for a few seconds, he sighed, placing his hands on your knees. “You never come here, I got worried.”

Letting out a noise of realization, you grinned. Pulling out the lunch box from underneath your chair, you held it out towards him. “You forgot your lunch, again,” As he took the box, you frowned in mock annoyance, which Eri copied, “This is like, the twentieth time, Shouta. You need to take better care of yourself.”

He rolled his eyes, but an uncharacteristic smile appeared. “You’re one to talk. It’s supposed to be cold today, yet here you are, no coat, and in a short sleeved shirt.”

Before you could even rebut what he said, you felt his scarf fall over your shoulders. Looking back at him, you raised an eyebrow. He took a few more seconds to make sure that you were covered before he spoke.

“Can’t have you getting sick now, then I’d have to do all the work.”

You scoffed, waving a hand at him, dismissing him. He let out a laugh, before standing back up and rubbing your shoulder.

“You can stay, maybe do a lecture a little later. Oh, and if you need anything, just ask me, okay?”

When you agreed, he looked towards his class, getting ready to begin the day.

“Alright, let’s get started—“ He stopped himself, letting out a long and tired sigh, “What is it, Kaminari?”

“Who’s the lady?”

The rest of the class seemed to perk up at the question, looking both at you and Shouta. Deciding to poke fun at your husband, you stood up, made sure that Eri was comfortable sitting, and then stood next to him.

Waving your hand, you introduced yourself once again. “Hello, I’m (Y/H/N), but as a civilian I go by Aizawa (Y/N),” You paused as gasps of disbelief filled the air, “I came to bring my husband’s lunch and to talk to you about rescue missions.”

As the class began to get progressively louder, questioning why this was the first time hearing of you, and how no one recognized such a popular hero, you turned towards your now embarrassed husband. Wrapping your arms around him, you gave him a small peck on the cheek.

“Sorry about that, I just can’t help myself.”

Once again, he rolled his eyes, but he didn’t seemed to be mad, so you supposed that was a good sign. Before going back to settle his class, he rubbed his hands along your waist, something he did when he wanted to be near you, but also wanted to be subtle about it.

“Thank you for lunch. Why don’t we share it during break later?”

When you smiled, he felt as if there were a million butterflies that were bursting from his heart. As you went back to sitting down, Shouta offered you his sleeping bag, zipping up you and Eri before shutting up his class.

Yes, Aizawa Shouta was by no means, a gentleman. It was an indisputable fact about the U.A. teacher and pro hero. However, if you were to ask his class, they’d tell you that not only was he a great teacher, but he was a doting partner as well.

[fillorian-pocketwatch]

The Makings and Fate of Quentin Coldwater: What Were the Writers Thinking?

Trigger warnings: Quentin Coldwater, seasons 4 and (briefly) 5, mentions of suicide/suicidal ideation, outdated ideas about the purity of women.

General warnings: Spoilers for the show and the books.

Buckle up, darlings, and my apologies in advance: this is a rough ride, and I don’t recommend reading it if you aren’t in the right headspace for it right now.

I hope that those who do read it might drop some LGBTQIA+ positive book/tv recommendations in the comments as a pick-me-up for others. I will add some myself if I can think of some good ones.

So as it turns out, I ran into something entirely by accident: the inspiration behind the character of Quentin Coldwater.

I knew that Eliot and his "will-they-or-won't-they" dynamic with Quentin in the Magicians books were both borrowed from Evelyn Waugh's Brideshead Revisited (Grossman has said so himself)--

but I didn't realize there was an actual preexisting character Grossman borrowed from for Q:

Quentin Compson, from The Sound and the Fury.

This explains so much for me. So much.

I ran across information about the character the other day while doing something completely unrelated (looking up some other book if I recall correctly), and when I saw the similarity of the two names and then learned about the first Quentin’s fate, I thought, could this be LG’s inspiration?

Further research revealed that yes, Lev has said as much in articles. And even if he hadn’t, the fact that he has written extensively *about* TSatF online makes it a relatively easy conclusion to draw.

While the two Quentins aren't actually much alike (at least on the surface; I haven't read TSatF yet, just in-depth summaries/analyses of it)--other than the fact that they are both mentally ill over-achiever college students, are preoccupied with the idea of another world (the world as they each wish it was), and constantly associated with symbolic clocks and watches--Quentin Compson's fate explains everything for me in terms of how to understand Quentin Coldwater's series-four fate.

Quentin Compson ultimately kills himself in the famous classic novel; he does so by drowning after jumping off the Anderson Memorial Bridge in Boston, Massachusetts. Today there is a plaque there to commemorate the character:

In the Faulkner novel, Quentin associates the smell of honeysuckle with his obsessions over his sister’s purity--an ideal he comes to feel let down by after she loses her virginity and then seems to lose herself further in the company of men he feels are unsuitable.

I can’t help but make a parallel with the “drowned garden” of season 4, episode 12.

Quentin makes the following speech in the drowned garden, and as far as I’m concerned, it’s the closest thing we get to a suicide note:

You know the worst part of getting exactly what you want? When it's not good enough. Then what do you do? If this can't make me happy, then what would? Fillory was supposed to mean something. I was supposed to mean something here. But it's all... it's just... it's random. It's so random that the only way to save my friends is to yell at a fucking plant! Honestly, fuck Fillory for being so disappointing. You know what, maybe I was better off just believing that it was fiction. The idea of Fillory is what saved my life! [laughs.] This promise... that... people like me... [weeping] People like me... Can somehow... Find an escape. There has gotta be some power in that. Shouldn't loving the idea of Fillory be enough?

But the idea of Fillory is not enough, in the end, because the idea of happiness is also not enough. And by the end of his time on the show, that’s all Quentin has: the trappings of happiness (or at least the ones available to him, the ones he thinks might get him there), without the actual emotion.

Maybe he realizes, in the drowned garden, that he is at the end of his rope. Maybe that is where he decides to give up.

That, in my opinion, is why he begins to seem so shut down: it isn’t uncommon for people to distance themselves emotionally as a precursor to suicide (hence Jason being accused of “refusing to act” toward the end of S4).

I think it’s also why he doesn’t stop to wait and see how Eliot is after Margo strikes the Monster with the axes: he has given up on the idea that the things he thinks will make him happy actually will, or that happiness is actually attainable for him in the first place.

Quentin Coldwater drowns not in the fading of honeysuckle; for him it’s peaches and plums. In any case, he is definitely in over his head, and the water that spills out of the mirrors after his death feels like an homage to that literal drowning of his predecessor.

The TM writers found ways, as the show progressed, to tie the books back in to the show; the way they did it, however, was often roundabout to say the least. Their takes on how different plot points should occur, or be interpreted from book to screen, were usually close to abstract. They did do it, in many ways, but theirs was far from a faithful adaptation.

It fits, therefore, that they would tie The Sound and the Fury into S4 the way that it appears they did.

It also tells me something about how blame for their decision can be distributed, because either the showrunners:

a.) really did their research re: Compson and put together that this was the character that inspired Lev

or, as is much more likely, they:

b.) discussed it all with Lev himself--or LG was the one to broach the subject to see what sort of take they could spin.

Whatever the lead-in to the decision, I think three things combined to give them the idea for Q’s fate:

1. Quentin Compson;

2. Alice’s description, in the third book, of watching an old god kill herself to make way for a new world (which was when Umber and Ember emerged);

3. The following lines from The Magician’s Land: “The truly sad thing was that Ember actually wanted to do it. Quentin saw that too: He had come here intending to drown Himself, the way the god before Him had, but He couldn’t quite manage it. He was brave enough to want to, but not brave enough to do it. He was trying to find the courage, longing for the courage to come to Him, but it wouldn’t, and while He waited for it, ashamed and alone and terrified, the whole cosmos was coming crashing down around Him.

Quentin wondered if he would have been brave enough. He would never know. But if Ember couldn’t sacrifice himself, Quentin would have to do it for Him.”

So, it appears, the group of writers (LG included, however actively) apparently decided to take Quentin’s thought from book three and put him in exactly that position: make the choice, or fail to make the choice.

But the need for him to make that choice was never horribly convincing. They were very mistaken if they thought it was. And no matter what, it was ultimately a horrible, damaging idea. It hurt the audience, and it killed the show. The only sacrifice that was made was made in the name of ego and “clever writing” that the writers thought was edgy and risky in some desirable way.

[Quote from vulture.com]

It's not so deep.

What they did, ultimately, was borrow from more than one outdated work, and use those as excuses to do the wrong things re: mental illness and LGBTQIA+ representation:

Evelyn Waugh’s characters fail, once again, to live their lives and desires freely and openly (What a waste to rehash the long-denied dynamic from Brideshead Revisited only to deny it again);

Quentin Compson’s legacy of suicide and hopelessness lives on (and this is made all the more offensive when you learn that Compson’s suicide was based largely on ideas of spoiled purity which were solely the burden of women to uphold).

They took what could have been made right and beautiful and instead used their story to perpetuate the same sad old traditions of queerbaiting and Burying the Gays.

Tragedy is not more profound than happiness (just ask Quentin Coldwater). I'd argue that to make something really beautiful, you need to mend what's broken.

The world is a broken place. It's easy to break things here.

The worst thing they did to Q, by far, was to use the beautiful concept of minor mending against him like it was the fuse on a stick of dynamite: the thing he’d spent his whole life seeking--his specific field, his special skill in the actual real world of magic--was what he used to kill himself. He killed himself by *fixing something.* We need no further evidence that Q had given up hope.

What a terrible message, and what a slap in the face to viewers who put their trust in this atrocious writing.

And they did nothing to redeem themselves after the fact, either. If anything, they made it even worse, somehow:

Eliot, by the end of the show, has even less than he started with.

Eliot, apparently, is us: left without Q, stripped of the comfort of a world we thought we knew. Utterly let down by the writers who had the power to make things different.

I hate to end this on such a terrible note. So let me just say that if you were let down by the show, and you miss Q, you’re far from alone! I see you, and I hear you, and I share your pain.

TM got it all wrong. But I have faith that others will get it right.

And no matter what, in the last book, Quentin lives, and has nothing but a whole world of possibility open up before him.

[thoughtfulpaperback]

Spoilers!!!! Charmed 02x04

Okay yall. I love this episode, but this one is actually my least favorite so far. I have a couple of, not concerns, but more than nitpicks, about some things this episode. Overall I'd still give it a 7/10. It was paced well and the added lore was top notch so far and cant wait for more. Anyways, again I will start with things I liked, then move on to the things I didnt, and end with some highlights.

Likes:

1. Mel! Overall Mel is a champ and even though she had big romance storylines, and they developed her character in small ways throughout the first season, I still felt we need more Mel. This episode not only did a good job if staying true to the mel that was built in season 1 but adding onto her. Mel seems to detest the idea of uselessness or at least of being powerless. Which makes sense not only as a minority and a woman but as a lesbian. She grew up not having to hide and with a mother who basically told them they were powerful strong and could do anything. Which is wonderful, but breeds that room for those types of insecurities.

2. Hacy

So actually not that much big hacy moments in comparison to previous episoded, but I love how they are the two interrogating abby and the moment they shared with the safe word.

That said I also didn't like the need for one when Macy said she would just know. Although I argue that the fact she even asked for the safe word was because she knew. Because she tells her sisters to go, trusting him, before she looks onto his eyes. Then when he leans in to touch her and orb them out, either she is put off by the over enthused smirk (he was too happy for the situation) or she wanted to get a look into his eyes. Because if you look at her facial expressions as she is looking into her eyes she seems to doubt that he is Harry and then asks for the safe word before he orbs them out.

I also think they missed a hacy opportunity when he warns Macy to be careful

Harry: she's half demon

Macy: so am I

Harry: but you are you

I'll explain further in the disliked section

4. Maggie and Jordan. Okay so I really like these two together. Hold up though. I like it as a slow developing relationship. Jordan is in a different life stage than Maggie imo. If he were single and went after her immediately or they started a romance I wouldnt like that. Him having someone and Maggie growing up and them building a solid friendship first is what I am here for. I'll talk about her powers later. What I was curious about was the ring on Jordand finger since the camera focus for a bit on his hand when he mentioned his family. I hope he doesnt come from a line of witch hunters or turns out to be some sort of creature later on. I mean on one hand that would be cool and a twist, especially if he remains the same (like doesnt change into a villian just turns out has some history) because I feel like it would be a way of doing the Galvin family history right. I mean I think that is what I enjoyed about Galvins storyline, him being able to help out because of his family history. But they didnt do much with it given the limited screen time. So if they could do something similar with Jordan and give it appropiate attention I would love it. But if they tried to use it for drama I wouldnt because it would be too much like parkerita. Let maggie grow up and have a healthy mature relationship without deception and scary families involved!

5. Dark!Harry as a Darklighter and a Hunter

So I mean we still don't know exactly what darklighters are. I mean we know that they are part of the whitelighter (one person split in half) but we dont know if the elders trained them for a specific purpose. I mean Darry got fighting skills and some resourcefulness. For to come from no where, but the fact he is after powerful beings (so far we dont know exactly why) and he has a connection with Harry is really interesting and has so many possibilities moving forward and I especially love the further similarities is draws to Macy.

Harry (unlike macy) has been split in two he has lived with this unknown part of him that differs from everything he was taught and believed about himself. Like macy this side of him appears to be "evil", although I have a feeling is probably more complicated than that since it obviously is for Macy. So harry has this "dark side". Which will be interesting if they ever have to or can merge the two.

Right now it appears that Darry has nothing to do with the Demon wars (unless you believe he and abby are working together).

Now onto dislikes:

1. Abby. Hold up y'all! I actually love this villainess. I just have some concerns about her background. And also have some thoughts about her possible future role.

So I love that she wants to bring down the patriarchy of the demon world. Her being Caine seems unnecessary, and brings up some questions.

Why didn't Parker ever mention her? He mentioned Hunter. She knew about him. So it would seem a fair assumption that Parker knew about her.

I don't mind adding lore to the previous seasons as long as they make sense. So far what they have added doesn't negate what was established last season (season 1 contradicted itself a couple of times), but with Abby as a Caine they will have to make double sure they don't add anything that would contradict season 1.

Abby as bisexual. Like I love when shows give some bisexual representation! But I am always weary when bisexuals are the villians and they are the only bisexual characters in the show. I am not bisexual, so I can't really say whether the show is doing this well or not well. It is just something I try to be considerate of and so when it happens I am always a bit nervous about it.

2. The Vera-Vaugh sisterhood (mostly on Macy's part). Okay so I am treading lightly on this topic and also would like to point out that I am coming at this from my Latina perspective. But I feel that Macy sees her place and he relationship with her sisters from the "Good Mexican" perspective. Meaning she does crave that connection to her sisters but also views herself as the other. More so she view her sisters as thinking over her as "the good half demon" and for Macy that isnt enough. It still feels like a rejection of part of her. Which in some cases is, but I think for her sisters it isnt that way at all. They dont view her as "a good half-demon" they see her as Macy and as thier sister. But I feel that since Macy, given how she grew up and the insecurities we know she has from season 1, isnt getting the memo. She now knows that her sisters actually love her and will stick with her, but she no longer is craving acceptance, she wants understanding and commonality. Which for her, her sisters cannot give her not just because they are different but because they view the situation differently.

Abby is playing to that so well. I was upset that Macy would reveal the way she got her demon side. It seems not only like a bad move as far as trusting someone you claim not to trust but also just common sense given that I would thing you wouldnt want other demons knowing how to create more demons from humans. Anyways, abby's line of having more in common with each other was pretty brilliant given the little amount of time she has spent with any of them.

I think it is possible, from the patriarchy conversation, that Abby eventually would try to recruit Macy to join her in trying to take over the demon world. That said I am not sure so far if Abby would actually like to share power with anyone. We still dont know much about her character. So her development moving forward will be interesting.

Moving back to the sisters. I think if moving forward the show would do little things to address the issue it would help not only to further build the relationship between the sisters but the power of 4. Things like the line I added between Macy and Harry would show Macy that they are seeming the situation differently. It wont allieviate What Macy is feeling or the fact she still has to figure out what exactly it means to be a half demon or if it does have meaning out side the societal implications.

3. Whitelighter lore. Don't come for me! I love the added lore. I just have some nitpicks.

Alpha. So if the first whitelighter was from Salem then how is there and Egyptian hieroglyph for a whitelighter? Unless the elders just to a hieroglyph and decided to make that one the one for whitelighter? ("Hey what's that" other elder: "I combined two hieroglyph want to use that for our new whitelighters?" First elder: hell yah!)

Okay so if these two are one person made into two and are connected. Then how connected are they? I mean I assume we will get more detail as the show progresses so I am not made about it, but the alpha is always kept near the split part. So in the beginning was it that they couldnt be too far apart or else something bad would happen? Or is it that what happens to one happens to the other. Dark!Harry tried to kill Harry so we could assume that that isnt the case because it would be a death sentence for both (unless dark!harry didnt know and just lucked out be the fact that Harry and him are now immortal because Harry's tie to the elders was severed). Lots of questions regarding what exactly dark!harry knows or doesnt know.

4. Maggie's powers. Dont get me wrong, I love the foresight and its relation to premonitions and Marisol, but it is gonna need some careful explaining. They established that witches are traced through these powers and that the sisters were stripped of them. So then what is this foresight? It cant be a part of her old powers because those were stripped. But if this is a new power can it be used to track the sisters? Or is it something else? A power but unrelated to the powers and triggered by an outside agent (not necessarily a person). Will Mel start to develop new powers as well or again is there something going on with Maggie?

Highlights:

Mel chugging like a champ!

Maggie's constant touching of Jordan when trying to trigger her new powers. Not awkward at all Mags...

The satisfied look on Darry's face when he is about to orb Macy and him out (I still cant believe the girls werent suspicious of how Harry found orbed to them when none of them called for him)

(I was gonna give credit to the gif maker and had written down who it was but lost the paper and cant remember which of the people I saved this from. So if this is your gif let me know! So I can edit and give yah the credit you deserve! Sorry about that! If I find the paper before yah recognize the gif I will edit)

Abby's recount of being attacked by Darry. I was enjoying the steaminess.

Anyways that's all on my part! Comment, send asks or message me, if y'all want to discuss something I mentioned or didnt mention about this episode or the series in general! Not looking forward the the inevitable break that will occur but cant wait for episodes 5 and 6!