#i used to feel bad for finding less time to read books as an adult but now i'm just impressed with myself for managing to read longform text

[shegatsby]

Could I possibly request a fic where Hannibal has reader hidden away in a secret room. Like he keeps her there in her own world kinda like a princess in a tower situation. He keeps her there so she’s safe and doesn’t know what he does. She’s actually pretty happy with the situation because she loves him he loves her yadayada and possible smut MAYBE Will gets to meet her🤭 idk I’m new to requesting also I love your stuff man 10/10

Your day started just like the day before but this time you had a dream. It was about the night he brought you here. You were his patient, had a troubled upbringing with drug addict parents, your earliest memory was sitting on a couch, starving, and watching your parents with needles… you were taken to custody but it was too late. You were scarred for life. You focused on your education till one day you snapped and had to find a psychiatrist.

Doctor Hannibal Lecter

You had read his reviews, whatever you could find about him on the Imternet.

You walked to the luxurious bathroom, your mind clouded with the memories of your first session with him.

It was spring and you wore a milkmaid dress. Since his upstanding reputation you wanted to look “sane” and “presentable”

Wiping your palms on your dress you knocked on the grey door, you had noticed the absence of a secretary but didn’t pay much mind. And he opened the door…

You were awe struck to say the least. He easily standing there in his 3 piece suit, clean shaven and inviting you with his dark maroon eyes. “Hello Ms.Y/LN. Please come in.” You smiled gently and entered. He had 2 stores in the office, at the top there was a balcony which looked like a library, books were wall to wall. Down stairs he had a brown desk with organized materials on it, a fire place, paintings on the walls. He gestured you to sit and he sat across you with his black leather notebook. He cleared his throat and crossed his legs, even though he was sitting he still spoke tall. “I must admit,” he began and caught your attention, you found yourself sitting up tall, matching his aura, “ Ms. Y/L/N, you had sent me a very interesting email.” In order for him to accept a client one must sent an email which he replies in 3 days. “How come?”

He looked into your eyes, yes there was space between you two but you could feel his intensity. “You were straightforward, it almost felt as if you wanted to show me how bad your situation is, so that I’ll reject you. Do you often show your bad side for others to rum away, thus, you don’t have to interact with them?”

His questioning made you drop your jaw, this was his deduction from just the email? You wondered if you should continue and expose yourself to him and also face your fears or just get up and leave.

Hannibal noticed the hesitation in your eyes, he put the book away and did something which left you speechless. There was a cabinet on the wall behind him, he opened it and got a bottle of red wine and 2 glasses. He poured one for you and and extended his hand, “No need to fret Ms. Y/L/N,” you got the glass and felt his touch, “after all, I’m here to serve you.” His tone was less formal than before.

And your story began with him, at first you had your session with him once a month, and office hours turned into coffee dates and dinners.

You used to live alone in a one bedroom flat with yur cat Lucifer, he was a huge black cat thus the name Lucifer came.

One night you were out with your pyschiatrist Doctor Lecter. He invited you out for dinner and to be honest he showed off his wealth and refined palate. You found youself admiring his life style, luxurious yet elegant like the royals. He wasn't shy of showing it to you or making you experience it first hand.

The night was amazing, you were like two normal adults having a nice dinner, both of you lost the titles of doctor and patient and enjoyed each other's company, he drove you home and everything happened that night.

''Did you leave your lights on?'' he mentined the yellow lights coming from your flat, ''No.'' an icy feeling entered your chest, ''I'll come with you to check it, stay behind me.'' he said, his protective side showing, you did as he told you and together you rode the elevator and came to your door which was wide open.

Tears filled your eyes when you saw your home, everything was torn and broken, someone came in and did an arduous damage. Hannibal checked to see if someone was still inside. It was empty, ''Where is your cat?'' and with the mention of Lucifer your hands went to your chest and you started calling for Lucifer, you found him hiding, he was shivering.

''I'm also working with FBI, I know people who can help. In the mean time you're staying with me.'' it wasn't a question or a request, he meant what he said.

''O-okay.'' you were shivering. You picked up Lucifer and you felt Hannibal's hand on the small of your bag, ''Let's get you to the car, and I'll call my friends Will and Jack.''

He got you inside the car and left to make a call and the rest was history.

His house felt like a museum at first but it grew on you over your stay. He gave you the guest bedroom which was bigger than your own, he also went out of his way to collect your precious belongings from your robbed house. It wasn't much just a small bag, Lucifer was the most important to you. Hannibal also liked animals and didn't sany anything about your cat, in fact they got along.

After a week you started to look for a new place to stay, you were having breakfast together, ''What are you doing?'' he asked as he poured you coffee, ''House hunting.'' you replied shortly and saw him dropp the spoon he was holding, this was the first time he lost his composure and he cursed himself, ''Clumsy today.'' he joked and continued, ''You shouldn't rush. I am happy to have you, in my home.''

You looked up to meet his maroon eyes, ''Thank you for everything Hannibal but I don't want to be a burden.'' as your therapist he already knew how you felt. His mission was to convince you to stay. Manipulate you even...

Together you went on house huntings, he was there all the time. After every house he would find something bad about it, neighboors, mold, too pricy etc.

One night you were watching a movie together, it was an old Hollywood classic. ''Don't leave.'' you heard him and turned to face him, he was sitting next to you, his arm on your shoulders, ''What?''

You were startled, ''I don't want you to go.'' he puased the movie, his eyes pleading, ''that night when you house was broken into, I swore to protect you and never let you out of my sight.'' he held your hands, ''Its dangerous outside Y/N, I cannot let you go.''

His tone sent shivers down your spine, he was serious. ''Do you want me to-'' he cut you off, ''Be mine.''

and he leaned in for a passionate kiss.

Since then you were with him, he took care of every detail and let you thrive and pursue your passions such as writing and painting. He was a possessive man and never liked to see your attention go to someone else that's why he introduced you to only one person,

Will Graham. His colleague and friend.

Thank you for reading. :)

[greenerteacups]

forever grateful to you for sharing your musings, as if the book writing weren't great enough and hard work enough, you truly spoil us and i love you.

I'm popping in here to ask if you would like to talk about how you see Dumbledore. Sometimes I feel his manipulative side is abused in fanfiction, depicting little more than a heartless chess master.

And well, I guess I'm curious to find out if Lionheart Albus has a heart and will we get to see it. Maybe the more generous glimpses you give us of Snape and his interactions with him will shed some light on his hidden depths? Or will his appearances remain fleeting and enigmatic, always far and above all the little people we do know and adore?

Sorry, I know you can't possibly be completely balanced in your portraying of the whole cast, or they would spread too thin. I am here for the plot, for the Dramione and the Blacks, but I deeply enjoy all the character building (I truly live for all of them, not only our loved ones, I even cherish Warrington with sincere hate and am waiting for his comeuppance ) so I thought I would ask if you wouldn't mind a few comments on our opaque headmaster.

Thank you, friend! You're really kind.

Dumbledore has a relatively minor role in Lionheart for a few reasons — chief among which is, as you point out, that we just don't have time for everybody to get the same level of characterization the mains do. I have plot justifications for that, but it'd be disingenuous to suggest otherwise: Dumbledore's minor because I'm less interested in him than I am in Snape and Narcissa, and Lionheart is much more about Draco's sphere of the world than Harry's. That being said, I think some people forget how small Dumbledore's role is in the original books. He pretty much exists to deliver exposition and tell Harry how to beat the final boss; dude doesn't even get a gesture at a backstory until he's already dead. In fact, it's kinda weird to me that everyone (including a lot of people in the series) treats Dumbledore like he's some kind of guardian for Harry, especially with respect to the decision to keep him at the Dursleys. I know it's set up in the prologue, but if I'm Dumbledore, and I'm catching strays for Vernon Dursley being a piece of shit, I'm gonna be like:

The TLDR on Dumbledore is he's blamed way too much for stuff he doesn't do instead of the stuff he does. People seem to blame him for everything bad that happens to Harry because he's a competent adult in the general vicinity of the kid. But with the possible exception of hiring Lockhart — a bad decision I attribute to Early Installment Weirdness and, just maybe, a certain scarcity of applicants for a position where the last dude Literally Fucking Died — there's not a whole lot of shit that happens to Harry in the first few books Dumbledore could've prevented. Plus, he does in fact have Other Shit to be Doing. Is he a really powerful wizard who probably could've saved Harry's ass in a lot of the fights he gets into? Yes. Does he also have a whole school to run, a secret guerrilla group to direct, a Ministry full of political enemies to placate, and — oh yeah — a snake-faced immortal evil sorcerer he's playing 4D chess with at all times? Yes!

The whole lamb-to-slaughter thing with Harry is admittedly quite dark, but I don't read it as machiavellian. For one, Dumbledore obviously comes to this conclusion after a lot of deliberation, and to his death, he refuses to tell Harry about it, because (one assumes) he never intends to kill Harry himself. He's willing to hinge the fate of the free world on his respect for Harry's autonomy and/or his faith that Harry will make the "right" choice. That's pretty humane, given the circumstances. And he holds off on telling Harry about the horcruxes because... he doesn't want to inform a literal child that he'll eventually have to kill himself for the war effort. Oh, GOD, what a SCHEMING MONSTER. Surely this is motivated by menace, and not the grieving reluctance of a seasoned veteran who wants to preserve whatever few years of happiness this kid can eke out of life.

The areas where Dumbledore is morally shady come out most in his interactions with other adults. His conversation with Severus in 1981, for instance, is the one time in the books where I was legitimately frightened of him, because it's a rare time he's completely without mercy or grace. "What will you give me in return, Severus?" is a character-defining line, because Snape has just told him that two twenty-somethings and their infant child are about to be murdered, and Dumbledore's hit back with the subtextual equivalent of: "Tough shit. Why is it my problem?" Which is COLD AS FUCK! And we can kind of infer that he's not in earnest here, that he's manipulating Severus by making him think Dumbledore won't protect the Potters (even though they're Order members, which this theory requires us to assume Severus doesn't know) so that he can get him to work as a spy — but we don't know that for certain, right? It's all inference. We hope that his implicit threat isn't genuine, but what would happen if Severus said no, and walked away? How much did Albus understand about Snape's feelings for Lily, and what kind of person does it take to bluff like that in front of a known Legilimens? That line is intimidating as fuck whether or not Albus means it.

It's bits like these, where he's talking to people that he actually dislikes, where we get hints of the real Machiavellian Albus Dumbledore, and it's absolutely fascinating. He's the veteran of two wars, going on three when he dies, and you can tell in how he conducts himself. That includes, by the way, his gentility with children and his respect for innocence. But he's not just Good Funny Grandfather Dude or Crafty Mastermind. He's a general. He's been waging wars from the back lines since his twenties. That does something to your brain, and it doesn't leave a lot of you left over for anything else.

[novaonhere]

Buddy System

Relationship: Cal Kestis x f!reader

Summary: Cal wanted to go out on his own, but after not being by his side for quite some time, you bring up something you learned back at the Temple when you were just a youngling.

Word Count: 880

Warnings: Nah, sexy time proposed in a funny way

A/N: Bored at work so clearing through my drafts, here’s a quick blurb

Prompt: "Then why did you even come along?" "Because someone has to save your ass if this inevitably goes wrong."

(gif not mine)

————————————————————————

The crew, such to Cal’s disappointment, wanted to take a day break on Koboh at the cantina. After a few weeks hunting down bounty hunters, everyone was exhausted. Cal finally caved when you fell over after standing for a few minutes from pure exhaustion.

Cal was restless. He wanted to keep the go-go-go mentality, and keep hitting them when they thought they could take a breather. He wasn’t used to breaks; he was used to running, fighting, pushing through.

He sat outside the cantina, tinkering with his saber with BD-1 at his side. He watched the people come and go, wanting to follow one that started their journey outside the city. BD-1 tries to entertain him, chirping some songs that he picked up from Greez and yourself. It only worked for ten minutes.

You’ve kept an eye on Cal as soon as you landed. You knew he wouldn’t be able to sit in one spot for longer than a few hours. Staying aboard the Mantis, you used this time to lay on the boarding ramp, using the ship as shade to read a few books. Every so often, you peeled over your book to see if Cal was still there, which he was.

You got to a good part of the book and hyper focused for a bit too long. Finally, after you flipped to the next chapter, you peered over to see your boyfriend gone. Aw crap, there he goes. You should’ve done more to help him relax, but he’s an adult he can manage. Well, apparently not. Throwing your book inside, you hop to your feet and take a better look. There goes the red head, following a raider towards their base. Something’s up.

You manage to find a balance of quickly walking and slowly jogging to catch up and hopefully not be suspicious. Cal flicks his head back and notices you making your way up. He doesn’t make a face as you look your arm into his.

“I watched him leave someone’s home with that bag, I have a bad feeling. The owner of the house was also crying.” Cal whispers, pointing to the large bag that the raider had in his hand. You nod.

“Now or later?” You ask, Cal shaking his head.

“I want to see where he’s going, see if there’s more stuff they’ve stolen.” The raider turns around to see us, but we wave and continue walking past him, coming up with a story to seem less suspicious. You both walk slow, causing the raider to groan and bump through you too to continue on.

“Well I’m coming with, obviously.” You smile, using your free arm to pat his arm. Cal seems annoyed.

“No, today was your rest day.” He whisper argues with you, causing you to raise an eyebrow.

“And to you, and you know that we don’t like others dipping by themselves.” You roll your eyes. “Do you know remember what we learned at the Temple?” Cal blinks blankly, obviously confused.

“The buddy system?” You ask, Cal shaking his head. “Seriously? Damn, we didn’t like that lesson as much so I figured you didn’t like it as much.”

“If you don’t like the buddy system, then why did you even come along?” Cal grumbles, not wanting their cover to be blown. You could care less about the raider and trying to talk to your boyfriend.

"Because someone has to save your ass if this inevitably goes wrong." You scowl, just too loud. The raider finally turns around, shoving his weapon to your chin.

“We are out of town, what business do you folks have with my team?” He hisses as you throw your hands up.

“Sir, we were told to follow a raider heading out of town to pay someone back.” You explain, the raider slowly lowering his weapon.

“Who?”

“You all look the same.” You state blankly, Cal holding in a scoff of laughter. The raider doesn’t seem amused.

“I’m not going anywhere,” The raider stands facing you two, crossing his arms. “You’ll have to wait for the correct man.” You and Cal look at each other, coming to the same agreement. Cal flings into action, bashing the raider back with the butt of his saber. Stunned, the raider drops the bag, giving you time to grab it and run. Cal follows, leaving the raider gasping for breath, laying on the ground.

“When we return this, you are going to properly rest.” You shout at him as you both run into town.

“Oh yeah? How?” He scowls, catching up to you.

“You look pretty relaxed after an hour in the bedroom.” You smile, shocking Cal. He smiles widely like a happy boy on Christmas morning.

“Give me the bag, and meet me on the ship.” He exclaims, slowing down as you reach town. You both stop and you give him a quick peck on the cheek. He rushes into the house, startling the owner.

Giggling, you make your way towards the Mantis. Before you get too far, you feel a pair of hands snake around you, turning you around. Cal places a sweet kiss to your lips before throwing you over his shoulders. You shriek in delight as he takes off to the launch pad, a few passer byers giggling at your shenanigans.

[stevethehairington]

okay so. overall review:

actually not as bad as i expected it to be! and not as bad as i thought it was going to turn out while i was in the trenches there lol. i still wished it focused a little more on eddie's home life/relationship with his dad and uncle AND his friends, and had way less of the romance stuff (read: none), BUT i will admit that there ended up being a lot less of the romance stuff than i initially expected and a lot less than it seemed like there would be while still in the middle of the book.

the paige stuff still made me uncomfy bc i didn't like the power dynamics there (paige had something eddie wanted desperately, and i don't like the idea that that could have had something to do with his "feelings" for her/why he engaged with them ((esp bc let's be real — he didn't seem super torn up over not getting to be with her in the end)) or that she used that to her advantage bc there was ALSO something in it for her) BUT i will say they did make it slightly less skeezy than i expected bc she was only a couple years older than him instead of like. significantly older like i expected.

i do wish there was more about eddie's friends and their fallout and reconciliation. his friends were super important to him and he just. dropped them. like that. and there was BARELY any blowback. like yeah there was a fight with ronnie, but we never actually got to see the reactions of any of the other hellfire/corroded coffin guys, and i would've liked to see that. same with the reconciliation, it felt very minimal — i would've liked to see more of how that played out too.

I LOVED EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN SECOND OF WAYNE MUNSON CONTENT, THAT MAN IS A GIFT HE IS AN ANGEL I ADORE HIM WITH EVERYTHING IN ME. IF THERE IS ONE THING THIS BOOK HAS DONE IT HAS SOLIDIFIED MY STANCE THAT WAYNE MUNSON IS THE BEST GOD DAMN CHARACTER AND I WOULD DIE FOR HIM.

as for eddie — i think the author did an alright job finding his voice. there were times where i thought she really nailed it, but there were also A LOT of times where i thought "he would never say that!!" "he would never do that!!". it wasn't very consistent, but overall it wasn't awful and there were some good parts!

the other characters we know and love that made cameos — VERY fun to see them (gareth, chrissy, jason, hopper, will, jonathan!!!) gareth was ESPECIALLY fun to see because they really embraced that feral chihuahua boy energy we love to assign to him. BUT. i am SO incredibly upset with how badly they massacred my boy tommy h (whOSE LAST NAME THEY COULDNT EVEN GET RIGHT I MEAN W H A T!?) they fucking. got his characterization SO BAD. it was awful. i am. personally offended by it (joking, mostly rhsjsi). (as a tommy lover i am. devastated tho. HE WOULD NOT DO THAT!!!)

OH ALSO — reefer rick. WHAT a fun dude. hes out here in his robe and bunny slippers drinking darjeeling tea, living it up. what a guy.

id like to give a huge FUCK YOU to principal higgins too! they made that dude a straight up MONSTER. he was unnecessarily CRUEL and some of the things he said straight up to eddies face,,,,,,, sir what the FUCK. i know the 80s was a different time but jesus fucking cHRIST was casual cruelty and bullying from grown ass ADULTS commonplace? i sure hope not.

ALSO FUCK AL MUNSON LIVES ALL MY HOMIES HATE AL MUNSON LIVES. that man was AWFUL, TRULY HONESTLY GENUINELY THE WORST. neglectful and cruel and downright AWFUL. NOT ONLY DID HE CONSISTENTLY ABANDON EDDIE THROUGHOUT HIS LIFE BUT THEN HE DREW EDDIE INTO HIS SCHEMES, CONNED HIM, FUCKED UP REAL BIG, AND THEN LEFT EDDIE IN THE ASHES OF THEIR — OF HIS — HOME AS THE ONLY PERSON LEFT WITH THE COP WHO GOT SHOT AND IS LIKE SLOWLY BLEEDING OUT. TALK ABOUT FUCKING TRAUMA WHAT THE FUCK. i hope he got flayed ALIVE by charlie greene lmao it would serve him right that absolute twat waffle.

also, im gonna be real. the end of that book was actually INSANELY depressing. like, it tried to be positive because you gotta end on a positive note right? but it just fell. COMPLETELY flat. bc we all know what happens to eddie in canon. he's sitting there reenrolling in school, peacoking around about how he's GOING to finish high school and he's GOING to graduate and he's GOING to show principal higgins that he CAN do it and that he ISNT the fuckup deliquent he's convinced he is. BUT WE ALL KNOW HE DOESNT FUCKING GET THAT IN CANON. he's taking waynes advice and fully embracing who he is and he's learning to be comfortable in his own skin and to rise above all the noise of people who don't like him and think he's a freak. ONLY WE KNOW HE NEVER TRULY GETS TO DO THAT EITHER BECAUSE WE ALL KNOW HOW IT ENDS IN CANON. so yeah it just ends up being a REALLY fucking BLEAK ending because all of that "positivity" is absolutely tainted. it's fucking soured. and i am once again INSANELY INFURIATED about eddies death. so fuck the duffers, again.

also, eddie munson literally never caught a fucking break. not one fucking break. his ENTIRE life was just one series of tragedies after the other and it truly just continued on that way until he fucking died. honestly, its a goddamn MIRACLE that he has ANY ounce of positivity and optimism and hope left in his life when we get to him in s4. thatd how utter dogshit a hand he has been dealt in life. and it only.got worse from there. and i will NEVER forgive ANYONE involved in his creation for that.

so yeah! that concludes my journey reading flight of icarus. it was a wild ride lol.

[foggymartin]

It's always awful to see pretentious twats on the news, but especially when they talk about things they've had no experience in. Seeing upper class, Christian men go on and on about how we should make Britian a "Christian" place again is out of this world. Seeing upper class (and let's be real, probably Christian) men talk about how people in poverty should just *work in these shitty jobs provided by our fucked government and earn minimum wage* because what are they going to do? They basically don't have a choice. Seeing *upper class christian men* talk about women's rights, gay peoples rights, people of colours rights, like it's some kind of epic tale in a book. They have no fucking idea what they're talking about, for any of it.

Christianity is a fucked religion (controversial, I know) with again, pretentious twats speaking the "words of God" which are a load of shit. Most of the time it's used as an excuse to be a homophobe or a sexist. Okay, David, why don't we follow every single rule ever put into that musty book? Why don't we tell left handed people they're going to hell? Or tell people who are mean that they're going down there? Why is it gay people? Correct me if I'm wrong, the Bible stated "man must not sleep with *boy*" and not "man must not sleep with man." You know, because pedophila feels like more of a crime then *gay people.* just a hunch. Commenting "Jesus loves you" or "find god" on any post that is someone different. An alternative person. It's so stupid. Why do you care? Follow your little religion and fucking leave us alone.

Poverty is a huge problem across the ENTIRE world, and I'm sure that speaks in volumes about how fucked up of a world we are. The fact that these people who are fighting to survive every day are being told to "just work" by people who never had to work a day in their life for shit is infuriating. Upper class people in general irritate me. I think it's the arrogance that they have. They're a bit.. Snobbish, you know? Even from just teenage girls being naive and laughing at poorer kids for not having an iPhone, to rich adults looking down on these people with such disgust. Seriously viewing these human beings as less then their pretty little £1000 poodle. What the fuck. The government taxes people - taxes the poor people who literally can't afford it if they want to eat. And just the normal people. Why not tax the rich more? People say "oh, we do tax them." Not as much? Do they need all that money? Do they really? Why can't they lend some of that "well earned" (passed down from generations) money to people who need it. I'm sure they'll live.

People on the news talk about women and gay people like they're a shit stain on a wall, but I'm sure the stain would get better rights. It's debates about women's rights to give birth, women's rights to wear what they please, women's rights to turn down a man. Literally fucking anything a woman does is shit on by society. Gay people are debated - should being trans be allowed? Is being gay a sin? Hmm, such tricky questions... Why not just let them live? People point out "oh, that school shooter was trans" or "that rapist was gay" not to say that school shootings or rape cases are bad, no no, just to shit on the LGBTQ community. Nobody points out that a school shooter was a white man. Why don't we just say "that school shooter was a horrible person who deserves to die" and not focus on the community they were a part of? Maybe mourn the lives lost instead of rejoice in the fact that you've got new things to hate the LGBTQ community for.

What a pleasant world we live in, huh? I could go on more, but I wont. I'll probably spiral into a ton of stuff about capitalism and why it should be torn to the ground.

Jesus Christ, I wrote more than intended. Happy reading

[msnihilist]

ahh pleaseee share that essay about bevin and gwevin with us 🥲we won't be bored we love those kind of things we would love to read it !

This is mostly just going to be me vomiting up various thoughts, but here we go.

Ben and Gwen, I think, represent Kevin's past and future, respectively. Through UAF, Ben is consistently the one who calls Kevin out on his bullshit — most notably in "In Charm's Way," when Ben and Kevin talk on the beach at the end of the episode...

KEVIN: Where's Gwen?

BEN: Went home. You hurt her pretty bad.

KEVIN: I hurt her? I'm the one who looks like this, and she hasn't done a thing about it.

BEN: You are a giant, rock-faced jerk!

KEVIN: Yeah, whatever.

BEN: Not "whatever." She's spending every spare moment going through every magic book she can find to try and help you. She's been doing it since the accident.

KEVIN: She... She never told me.

BEN: Should she have had to?

...and again when (past) Ben snaps at Ultimate Kevin in "The Forge of Creation."

ULTIMATE KEVIN: I deserve that power. I'm the one who gets turned into a monster. I'm the one nobody ever trusts or cares about!

GWEN: That's not true!

ULTIMATE KEVIN: Face it, Gwen... Whatever I look like, I'm a freak!

YOUNG BEN: You're a jerk. You've always been a jerk. People try to be nice to you, but you can't ever see it. You're too busy feeling sorry for yourself.

Ben is consistently the only character to hold Kevin accountable like this. (Granted, Kevin doesn't have a wide circle of friends, but still.) Gwen and Kevin don't fight much (when they do, Gwen usually leaves the situation), and she tends to be the softer voice, encouraging Kevin and reassuring him. ("You know I don't care what you look like," etc.)

Ben has been calling Kevin out since they were kids, since the day that they met — quickly clocking Kevin as a bad person and saying as much. He continues to do this through the OG, like in "Grudge Match."

MUTATED KEVIN: It's payback time, for turning me into a freak!

BEN (as Diamondhead): You were always a freak, Kevin. It's just now the ugly's also on the outside.

And, later...

MUTATED KEVIN: This is all your fault!

BEN: How can this be my fault?

MUTATED KEVIN: I don't know... It just is!

In this episode, Kevin blames Ben for them getting stuck in the ship. He blames Ben for his mutation. He attacks Ben for going against him even though Ben literally saved both of their lives not a minute before.

Kevin isn't in his right mind, sure, but he continues to display this trait in UAF: refusing to accept accountability.

Nothing is ever his fault — it's always someone else's. Kevin is emotionally immature and he struggles with self-hatred. He lashes out and blames others because if he didn't, he would have to look inside of himself and recognize that maybe something is wrong with him.

And that's a hard thing to do. It's hard for most adults, let alone a child who's struggling with powers he doesn't understand — powers that alter his mental state.

If Kevin is a boat being tossed around in a wild ocean, then Ben is like an anchor. He forces Kevin to look inward and to reflect on his behavior.

... Which is where Gwen comes in.

(Admittedly, I have less to analyze here, since Gwen and Kevin are rather straightforward, comparatively.)

Without Ben around, Gwen and Kevin's relationship would not work. Gwen is reactionary. She was as a child, and she still is as a teenager. Her first instinct when she and Kevin argue isn't to problem-solve, it's to get defensive. Their relationship wouldn't go anywhere with both of their attitudes like that.

Ben gets Gwen away to destress and take her mind off of Kevin. Ben is honest with Kevin in a way that Gwen can't (or won't) be.

He's not a third wheel. He's their counterweight. Their balance.

What does this have to do with past/future?

Well, Kevin spells it out in "Perplexahedron."

KEVIN: I like the Kevin that Gwen sees when she looks at me. And I like that you gave me another chance, even after I messed up all those other ones. I guess I'm saying I owe you guys for changing my life.

He refers to "the Kevin that Gwen sees" — someone he could be. And he thanks Ben for giving him another chance, referencing his past mistakes.

Ben helps Kevin look back and learn from his mistakes. Gwen gives Kevin something to look forward to, and a goal to strive towards.

Gwen and Kevin wouldn't work without Ben, but Ben and Kevin would be shaky without Gwen, too. Gwen is motivation. She's an incentive. She's the light at the end of the tunnel.

Without her, I think Kevin would have a hard time knowing what, exactly, he's trying to work towards. He would have a harder time opening up to Ben.

Ben is the medicine, and Gwen is the spoonful of sugar.

Kevin needs both of them to be the person he's always wanted to be. And they need him, too.

After all, 'Ben and Gwen' by themselves don't look nearly as cool <3

[thomthinks]

Demonata by Darren Shan

✓ I liked it

And I hated it. It was extremely good, and extremely flawed. I wanted it to be over, at the same time, couldn’t put it down. I enjoyed it but it was so hard to get through and yet worth it.

If I haven’t made it obvious by now, I have mixed feelings on this series. And by that, I mean a lot of mixed feelings.

There are ten books in this series: 1.Lord loss 2.Demon thief 3.Slawter 4.Bec 5.Blood beast 6.Demon apocalypse 7.Death’s shadow 8.Wolf island 9.Dark calling 10.Hell’s heroes. Each book is usually less than 300 pages, and pretty easy to read.

It's young adult fantasy horror mostly aimed at younger teenagers. They’re officially listed as “middle grade” however I personally don’t think this amount of gore and horror (very descriptive & graphic) is appropriate for an 8 year old. I remember reading the first 3 books at 14 and loving them.

There are 3 protagonists present by the names of Grubbs, Kernel, and Bec. Each book is told from a different point of view.

Now on to my opinion (minor spoilers):

The first 4 books? Great. Amazing. Perfect even. The ones that come after? Downhill. (Well, mostly downhill. Death’s shadow was still as good as the first ones.)

The first 4 books give the series a very strong start. Each one is about a different protagonist in a different timeline and it sets up the plot and characters quite nicely. But as soon as the timelines crash and the 3 protagonists meet and unite? The story starts becoming stale and dragging on wayyyy too much.

Each of the first 4 books have their own stand alone stories while setting up future plot points, but afterwards it’s just set up after set up, with little pay off and too high stakes, to the point that you don’t even care anymore. It kinda reminds me of MCU actually.

I mean, for example book 9. Dark calling has no actual story of its own. It’s just 186 pages of exposition about information you need to know so that the next book makes sense.

There is a sort of? Inverse? Character? Development?? I’m not sure what it’s called, but instead of unlikable characters becoming likable, the cast of lovable characters becoming completely appalling by the end.

You will start to notic a pattern when it comes to side characters. Most of which aren’t important and get introduced only to be killed later, without any purpose or development.

While I find plot twists to be one of the biggest strength of Darren Shan and I love him for it, I don’t think every single book needed to have one. Now don’t get me wrong, he writes plot twists so well, I’m in shock and awe. I cannot emphasize how good he is with plot twists, but as the story progresses, you start to anticipate them and they lose their intended effect. (Except for book 7, ofc. God that one was so delicious)

All of this complaining might make it sound I didn’t like or enjoy the series, but I assure you that I truly did. My annoyance and fury stems from a place of love. I’m just mourning the lost potential and nitpicking the issues that stopped a good series from becoming a great series. But I would still recommend reading this to anyone between the ages of 12 - 15 I come across.

Lastly, my favorite characters were “Lord Loss” and “Dervish”. (And to a lesser extent Beck. She was pretty great too. Definitely well written and interesting. She's the star of book 7 and she shines.)

I used to like Grubbs and Kernel in the first few books, but like I said, by the end there was nothing likable left about them.

I absolutely loved Dervish. (Even though he was pretty pathetic at times, ngl) he was a good character and a good person, and he stayed that way until the very end. Most importantly he was cool, interesting, sarcastic, and charismatic, lol. His arc and development were good too.

But my all time favorite has to be Lord Loss. Yes the villain. But God, he’s just sooo good at being bad. He makes an amazing antagonist. He’s evil, literally a demon with no redeeming qualities, his presence is dark and chilling and he doesn’t pull back ANY punches. See that people? THAT’S how you right a good villain. If this was a movie he would absolutely steal every single scene he was in. Whenever he showed up I just KNEW things were about to become hella intense and interesting XD

That’s pretty much all I have to say on this book series. It might be worth mentioning that the whole story is rather forgettable. But I guess on the bright side, that means you can read it again and still enjoy it as much as the first time ;)

Farewell for now ~

[buckybarnesss]

on fire: a teen wolf novel chapters 10-13 chapters 7-9 here chapters 4-6 here chapters 1-3 here

after a little break i am back with a new installment i'm doing 4 chapters today because this book only has 19 chapters.

once again: kate argent is her own warning.. there's an entire flashback chapter of her and derek when he was a teenager. she explicitly grooms him.

Our intrepid heroes are still in the goddamn woods. We shall never leave. Allison is cold and so Scott snuggles with her to share body heat. Classic trope but I have read many missing persons cases. Hypothermia can happen even when you don’t think it can. 

And we have yet another example of Derek being characterized as kind of a dick. He and Stiles find a campfire as Derek tries to track the scent of the Alpha and/or locate Scott. Stiles is just having a bad time as he’s winded from trying to keep up with Derek. Derek leaves him there. I reject this. No. Derek never left Stiles anywhere like this. Especially not with danger afoot. It very much stands in contrast to Wolf’s Bane when Derek crawls over broken glass and fights Peter, distracting him from Stiles.

The Queen has finally arrived. We finally get some Lydia narration. She also comes with Danny and some random dude Damon. 

It had been kind of annoying Danny hasn’t been involved that much considering he is Jackson’s best friend.

Have I mentioned that I don’t particularly care for how Danny is handled in this book? First you have Stiles assuming they should send Danny to the pay-by-the-hour motel because he’s gay and now Lydia’s narration is stereotyping the poor guy. “Dark-haired, with that cool Hawaiian vibe he had.” Danny was right to leave y'all.

Danny says he doesn’t have Lydia’s phone number which I sincerely doubt. 

I want to throw hands with this line “He gave her a completely non-sexual once over.” It’s giving gay-best friend trope vibes which to be fair was at its height in the 2010s and let’s face it this is how Lydia was often written pre-character development (and even after). Especially in the Sterek fandom. Don’t y’all try to tell me otherwise. I was there, Gandalf. 

There is this little section of Lydia’s I think deserves some commentary. The way this book has a subplot for Allison and Scott revolving around how they want to sleep together and the way Jackson and Lydia think of their relationship, especially their sexual relationship is interesting. Now, I’m no pearl clutching Puritan on this subject but the way that sex is handled in this narrative strikes me as too adult for their age. But this passage makes me change my perspective a little. These are kids acting too adult because they feel pressured in other areas of their lives to be adults without the experience and emotional capacity to do so. That fits in with Teen Wolf’s narrative. 

“Are you going through his stuff?” Danny queried, and she have him her best patronizing look, “Please,” She said, “You must know that I have a drawer here.” Damon looked even more impressed. Very few teenagers could claim the very adult perk of having a drawer containing their belongings at their boy -- or girlfriend’s house. Not that many teenagers had the need. It spoke of changing clothes, spending the night. Adult stuff.  Sex.”

Jackson’s computer wallpaper is Lydia which is sweet but then she says she picked it out herself which is less sweet. 

Jackson’s computer password is fucking Captain. You deserve to be hacked, Jackson.

Now Lydia brought Danny and his hanger on Damon from her house to Jackson’s because they’re looking for a CD Jackson apparently burned for Damon to use to DJ for a party. The 2010s of it all came out and kneed me in the solar plexus. Even Lydia was wondering why Jackson didn’t just make a shared playlist. But she searches through Jackson’s stuff stalling a little so she can snoop. This is all important because we finally get to the actual plot of why Jackson was lured away and missing in the first place. People want to rob the Whittermore’s while they’re out of town. Jackson at this point is still being held at gunpoint over in the preserve. 

The would be robbers -- henceforth referred to as Thing One and Thing Two -- assault Lydia and threaten her demanding to know if there are other people in the house. Lydia truly gets a raw deal no matter what.

Meanwhile, Derek’s left Stiles and is trying to follow the scene of the Alpha. He uses the word “shedding” to refer to how he left Stiles. I cannot impress enough how he would not fucking say that.

Derek’s out of luck though because the scent he comes across is old. He is at the place he found Laura’s body where he has a Moment of Anger before he moves on he picks up on Jackson’s scent. He recalls how he dug his claws into Jackson back in Magic Bullet and feels a tiny bit bad. He finds a half burned article about Jackson and does what I deem a Derek thing to do and that’s pocket it because he’s “keeping tabs on Jackson”. It’s stalking, Derek.

Narration switches back to Stiles and of course he gets weird quickly and Stiles what the fuck? Stiles doing something like this during the later seasons wouldn’t be out of the norm. He’s paranoid, hyper vigilant and suspicious at that point but here? Season 1? Stalker.

“He had tried calling Scott a couple more times, then Allison, then Lydia. He’d had her phone in his possession when he deleted the picture she’d accidentally taken of the Alpha. Of course he’d also inputted her number into his own phone; how stalkerish was that?”

Derek reappears and scares Stiles. Stiles observes “He was kind of sweaty, and he looked glummer than usual.” Stiles refuses to be normal about Derek. 

They have a little tiff except it’s them being worried about the same thing but in opposite directions. 

“Stiles crossed his arms and hunched over, shivering and trying to make himself inconspicuous, in cast the Alpha spotted Derek and decided to attack him. But Derek was a Beta werewolf too, like Scott. Why wasn’t he part of the Alpha’s pack? Maybe he is. Maybe he just hasn’t told us, he thought. “Or maybe it’s some kind of trap,” Derek said, “Something the Argents cooked up.” “You mean that Allison’s in on it?” Stiles asked, sounding incredulous.  Derek slid a glance at him. “Why do you sound so surprised? You know what the Argents are. What they do.``

And so we have arrived. The part of this book I remember the most. The Derek Hale Flashbacks. We go six years into the past. 

This is definitely where the idea of Kate Argent working at Beacon Hills High comes from and it makes a lot of sense. It even works even better given the context of season 2 where the Argents actually infiltrate the school as a tactic. 

Holder puts Derek on the swim team which is funny in retrospect because of how the swim team is important to the story of season 2 but Derek is established in season 3 as having been on the basketball team like Peter.

Holder also does a little world building on werewolf customs and pack dynamics here which the show lacks in detail. The way Holder does it is far more patriarchal than what the Hales actually are in the show. There’s a focus on Derek’s father (unnamed even here), the contest/rivalry between him and his cousin Josh, entrance into manhood and Uncle Peter. 

I am still deeply amused by Holder making the Beast of Gevaudan an ancestor of the Hales when the show took the route of making it far more deeply connected to the Argents.

The deepest of sighs at this : “Unlike Laura, who was popular, he didn’t have any human friends, and he didn’t want any.” I just have the hardest time with isolationist, anti-human Derek. Season 3 Derek called and told Book Derek to fuck himself. Derek had a posse of generic human friends.

Kate preys on Derek while she fills in for the main coach as he’s on paternity leave. Also Kate’s up here just brassily using her actual name.

Like Derek’s about 16 here so I can easily buy him noticing a pretty young woman in close proximity to him but Holder does a good job in making it clear that while Derek’s attracted to Kate superficially her interest in him makes him uncomfortable. Derek’s narration says things like “Flustered, even a little frightened.” and “He practically ran out of the school, looking over his shoulder.”

Holder then parallels Scott and Allison once more which is a, um, choice by describing Kate’s hair in the moonlight and Derek almost wolfing out. 

Apparently Laura and Derek shared a Subaru Forester. Which Hale lesbian bought this?

Now up until this point I’ve mostly avoided talking about Laura and her presence in this book because I was saving it for this scene. Laura Hale is a ghost in the narrative in the show. She’s seen maybe three different times outside of being a corpse. She’s never actually named in any of those short appearances and no one talks about her. Here she’s mentioned several times by Scott, Stiles and Derek. Plus now she’s shown in Derek’s flashbacks. I don’t like her all that much here and I think this might be where some of Laura’s fanon characterization comes from. 

Anyway, Derek and Laura are at a diner together eating hamburgers. Derek drinks Diet Coke. Look, I don’t see him as a Diet Coke drinker but that’s not the point here. Derek mentions Kate and how he thinks she’s so beautiful. Laura has this moment where she seems concerned:

“Is this...woman a student?” Laura asked. “No. She’s the new lifeguard. Ms. Argent.” Mr. Braswell’s replacement.” “School lifeguard?” she said, looking mildly shocked. “A teacher?”

After this though Laura’s characterization takes a nosedive. She refers to Kate as a slut when at this point in time Kate hasn’t really done anything necessarily wrong. Derek only really tells Laura of thinking she’s pretty. Laura’s never even met her.

She goes on to tease Derek about his crush -- the word mateable is used 🤮 -- and Derek shuts down. “Suddenly, he didn’t feel like talking to her about it anymore.”

I hate it here.

The next scene is another flashback I recall vividly. Melissa and baby Scott being abused by Mr. McCall. This fuckface trying to convince Scott that his asthma attack isn’t real and it’s all in his head. I want this man to die. Interesting that later when Rafael McCall is introduced he’s still The Worst.

Catch these hands. “Scott didn’t want him to yell at his mom because Scott had asthma. It wasn’t her fault. It was his, Scott’s.” 

If Melissa McCall had killed him no would have charged her. 

Back in the present we return to Scott and Allison. They’re still cuddling but realize they’re supposed to be looking for Allison’s keys. Her phone rings and they have a mishap which sends Allison down the incline. She takes him with her.

They recover but Allison has now lost her keys and phone. Bad day all around for Ally A.

Scott finds Allison’s phone using his wolf powers but he can’t let her know that so they use his phone to call hers. 

Her ringtone for him is apparently a band called Kids of 88. I had never heard of them so after a quick search their biggest hit was in 2009 My House. Which again -- sex.

Scott went to get her phone but he’s prevented by an invisible barrier. Wolfsbane. He makes up a lie about his leg being hurt because like how else do you explain not being able to touch a bush?

They sit down and Scott’s having thoughts like “Oh I wish Derek were here” so you know it’s not great. Allison talks a little about how she’s close to her parents.

They are fucking kissing again. Stop it. It’s not the time. 

Scott decides to text Stiles and says Stiles knows his username and password. We all know. It’s the ever iconic Allison. Jackson and Scott truly deserve each other.

I forgot Jackson was still being held at gunpoint while all this has been going on.

Jackson makes an attempt to escape but yet another guy is waiting at the Porsche. How many people are there? Two here, Cassie probably and then the two at the house. So 5 people in total it appears. Geez. 

His escape fails and he’s taken hostage. Jackson never has a good time. 

All of Chapter 13 is Kate and Derek. Shall we brace ourselves?

“One by one the other swimmers left, and he’d remained behind, torn between disappointment that she hadn’t done it again, and complete and utter relief that she was staying away from him.” Holder writes young Derek having the instinct to know Kate’s attention isn’t good.

Now Holder does do some interesting bits of worldbuilding but like I said earlier it seems so patriarchal. Surrounding challenges and fighting. His view of humans in the book is one of paternalism. 

Kate is going in for the kill now and I’m crawling up my own spine. She makes herself come across as demure. She’s playing meek and turning the whole thing back on Derek giving him the illusion of choice as she grooms him. She purposefully is coming across as more of a peer than an adult figure with authority. 

“She swirled her fingers in the water. “And this isn’t really my style, you know?” I don’t come onto men like this.” Men. She thought of him as a man. He licked his lips, completely tongue-tied. “I wish you’d say something,” she murmured. “I’m kind of dying about it now. I’m sorry if I misread your intentions. I won’t bother you again.” “I know we’d have to be careful. Outsiders might not understand.”

Excuse me. Earlier Derek mentioned his rival -- his cousin Josh -- apparently Peter’s sister-in-law’s kid. Here he mentions Laura had made out with Josh the previous Wolf Moon. Did Laura make out with their cousin?!?!?!?!?!? There’s no other Josh in this book. Like I get they’re not blood related if Josh is Peter’s sister-in-law’s kid (which lol okay bro) but what is happening here on this day?

Kate wants Derek to come home with her for privacy -- ew. So Derek calls Laura to negotiate. Hence the whole conversation about Laura making out with cousin Josh. Laura says “This is so you can do something slutty.” I deeply dislike this characterization of Laura.

And now we’re in Kate’s narration for the flashbacks. I need a shower after reading her thoughts. God, I hate Kate.

Holder goes into detail about her ideas on werewolves. It’s interesting. There’s competition for rank within the pack, challenges and rituals. I want to do a post specifically about it maybe, but I am offended on Talia Hale’s behalf here. It’s very focused on males. The automatic assumption that the Alpha is Derek’s father.

 I cannot say fuck Kate enough. “Some kids in high school are babies and others are all grown up, ready for the real world. Like you.” The classic manipulation tactic of oh but you’re so mature for your age or oh they’re such an old soul. 

Wishing Kate Argent a go ahead and die.

[sniffanimal]

"Help, I'm an adult and I'm realizing I can't read or write as well as I should/would like to!"

Good news! Literacy is a skill that can be worked on, even once you're out of K-12 schooling! Here are some ways to get started with increasing your knowledge of grammar, reading comprehension, classics knowledge, and writing! Feel free to reblog with more ideas/options!

Go to the library. The brick and mortar building where all the books are. Get a library card (free), and ask a librarian to help you find books on whatever skill you want to work on! I recommend the physical building because the quiet environment, going to a specific place to learn, and access to books that may not be available digitally are all helpful!

Use Libby/Overdrive! These are apps you can use with your library card to check out ebooks. If you're used to reading fanfic on your phone, reading an ebook might be an easy transition! Many apps also have font and accessibility options that can help!

Khan Academy is a free site that has lots of different lessons on grammar and reading! They're geared towards k-12 students, but can be a good place to start if you feel they can help! I've only seen the math lessons personally, but it comes highly recommended!

Find a book you read in high school and read it again! Follow along with SparkNotes or another study guide (STILL reading the book) and think about how you feel about the book without the pressure of a grade. Did you find it more engaging? Did you notice anything new?

Read a lot! Read long form blog posts, news articles past the headlines, books, magazines, newsletters. Read your voter info pamphlets. Read the transcript of a video instead of watching it. Reading engages a different part of your brain than listening!

Start with just one book, hopefully one you already own, and take your time reading it. Keep it in your bag/pack everywhere you go. change your phone wallpaper to the cover of the book to remind you to pick it up instead of scrolling. Take all year to read it! Take your time! Just always have reading be an accessible option for you.

Practice writing more! Journal, write longer Tumblr posts than a pithy one-liner. Start a proper blog, like on dreamwidth or neocities! Write reviews of everything you read and watch and experience! Write fiction, poetry, your memoir! Don't worry about it being publishable or having an audience. Practice just sitting and writing full sentences for the joy of it.

Lastly, since I'm running out of ideas now, look into taking classes again! You don't have to pursue a degree to take English 101. Some colleges even let you Audit classes (where you take the class without receiving a grade or credit), which can be less stressful. Join a book club, or start one! Even try picking out an English textbook at the library and giving it a read.

It's never too late to learn to love reading again. And to get better at it, and even write works of your own. It's not shameful to be a bad reader/writer, but it can be fixed. Happy reading!

[kelyon]

Courtship 5: Outfit

Lacey figures out what she's going to wear on her date

Read on AO3

The pile of clothes covered Lacey’s twin bed. She’d spent the better part of an hour matching blouses with slacks with sweaters in a vain attempt to find the magic combination that would make her look less like the president of the student council and more like Mr. Gold’s perfect slut. 

Nothing worked. So far, her best options were to wear her summer sundress in the middle of winter with no coat, or to take a pair of scissors to the long black skirt she had worn to her mother’s funeral. That last one might have been an option, if she had a sewing machine like Mara. But she didn’t, and showing up at Mr. Gold’s house wearing unhemmed rags was probably as bad an idea as showing up wearing pants. If she had a sleeveless top, she might consider wearing the skirt as it was. She could try to go for a sort of hippy, Bohemian look. But the most revealing blouse Lacey French owned had puffed-up sleeves, like a fucking five-year-old. 

Groaning, she fell backwards onto the pile. Some of this stuff she had got in middle school. The fact that they still fit her had been an advantage every time she’d decided to spend her limited funds on books instead of clothes, but it also meant that Lacey had never aged up her personal style. She didn’t have anything that made her look or feel like an adult. 

The purple-blue dress shimmered in her dirty clothes hamper. She had jumped the gun by wearing her only sexy outfit on her first date with Mr. Gold. She had set the bar too high. Now he would have expectations of how Miss French liked to dress. More than that, Mr. Gold in his suits had standards. If she met him looking like a mess, he’d drive off and leave her on the curb.

At least he didn’t seem to mind if she left him looking like a mess. He hadn’t minded bringing her home with a wrinkled skirt and no stockings or underwear. She wanted that to happen again, but before it could, Lacey had to look presentable. None of her clothes were cutting it. She had to take action. 

She pulled a white button-up off the pile and rubbed a smear of foundation over her hickey. Then she went downstairs into the shop. Dad was sitting by the cash register, looking through a faded design book. 

Mom had known all the designs for bouquets and arrangements by heart, but Dad always needed to double check with the book. 

“Anything happen today?” Lacey asked.

He shook his head, didn’t look up.

“We should call up everyone who ordered from us last year and remind them that V-day is in less than three weeks.”

“They know,” he grumbled. “This time of year, no one has any money. The men at Fish King will get paid on Friday, that’s when the orders will start. But they won’t really pick up until the next payday, the eleventh.”

He was right. It happened like that every year. All the orders came in at the very last minute. Valentine’s Day weekend was two solid days of constant work getting everything put together. 

And it was too far away to do Lacey any good.   

“So I’m guessing this is not a good time to discuss the subject of me ever getting paid for the hours I put in?”

Her father looked at her like she had just told an offensive joke that wasn’t even funny. Had his eyes always been so bloodshot? Had he always looked like a sad cartoon dog?

“You keep your tips.” He looked down at the book again. “You have money when the store has money, when we’re not racking up daily fees from that bastard Gold.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Lacey rubbed her hands on her jeans. “Just thought I’d ask.”

Of course Dad didn’t have any money to give her. That was their whole problem. Game of Thorns was a family business, the only income any of them had. For as long as she’d worked in the store, her pay had come in the form of food and shelter. Her reward for helping keep the place open was that it stayed open. It might not have been unreasonable to ask for more, but she knew it was unattainable. 

“Ask again when Valentine’s is over,” Dad said. “We get out of this hole… I’ll try to make something work.”

She’d heard that before. Her father always had all kinds of plans and dreams for when things got better. Not that things ever did get better. Not that they ever would. The only thing worse than knowing that fact would be admitting it. So Lacey gave her father a tight smile and pretended she believed him, just like she always did.

****

She made her way over to Marine Automotive, where her Uncle Manny was locking the front doors from the outside. When he saw her loitering, he beamed.

“Hey! There’s my favorite niece!”

Uncle Manny looked like Dad if nothing bad had ever happened to him. He had the same height and stocky build. He had the same curly hair that was also the bane of Lacey’s existence. But where Moe French was loud when he was angry, Manny French was loud when he was happy--and he was always loud. He wrapped Lacey up in a bear hug.

“How you doing, Ace? What brings you by?”

She cut to the chase. “Are you going to the Rabbit Hole tonight?”

Her uncle wasn’t a huge drinker, but he was the only person Lacey knew who regularly went to Storybrooke's only bar.

“I wasn’t planning on it. They’re aren’t any games tonight. But I take it you need an escort?”

Lacey raised her shoulders in a half-apology. “They won’t let me in without a parent-slash-guardian.”

“Ah, to be young again!” Uncle Manny wrapped one arm around her. “You’ll miss it one of these days, I promise you. But yeah, we can have a night on the town. I’ll even buy you a Shirley Temple.”

“Oh come on,” she gave him a playful nudge. “I am an adult, even if I can’t drink. I should at least get a Coke and Coke.”

“Sounds like a plan.” 

****

The Rabbit Hole was dead. Between the lack of sports on TV and the town-wide lack of money until payday, most people were staying home. The only ones here were people like Leroy Miner, people who had nowhere else to go. Like the old song said, sharing a drink they called loneliness was better than drinking alone. 

Undeterred, Lacey took her uncle-approved non-alcoholic beverage over to the pool table by the fireplace. She took off her hoodie and unbuttoned her blouse a little. This whole thing was a risky move, but it was the best plan she had. Hustling pool paid off more often than it didn’t.  

Eyeing the room, she bent over the pool table, just far enough to get a little attention. She lined up a shot and missed on purpose.

“Oh crap!” she said too loudly. “Must not be my night.”

After ten minutes of staged failure, Lacey let herself land a shot. She squealed when the ball went into the pocket. The sound made people’s heads turn, and she treated them all to a too-wide, too-apologetic smile.

Only one person smiled back. Keith Sherwood turned on his bar stool to watch her. Lacey tried to remember her other encounters with Keith. Did he usually stare more at her ass or her boobs? For safety’s sake, she did both. She leaned far enough over the table that Keith could look down her cleavage, then moved around to the other side for the next shot. She stuck her ass in the air, practically humping the felt to keep his attention.

“Boys always make it look so easy,” she pouted after another ball just barely missed the pocket.

When Keith began to walk over to her, she turned her back to him. That way she could pretend to be surprised by his arrival. With careful concentration, Lacey managed to get a ball a full foot away from what anyone watching would have assumed was her target. It was actually harder to be bad on purpose, but it paid off.

“You having fun, sweet thing?” Keith leaned against the pool table, beer in hand, right in front of her.

Lacey giggled. “It’d be more fun if I had someone to play with.”

Keith chuckled. A lock of his hair fell down into his eyes. “I bet it would be. You had a lot of fun playing with me last time, didn’t you?”

How much money had she taken from Keith the last time she had tried this? Sometimes she got cocky and her marks got mad about being taken. Lacey couldn’t remember if she had ever crowed about fleecing Keith. Unfortunately, he probably did. 

She fluttered her eyelashes. “It was a lot of fun,” she cooed. “I think I got lucky that night.”

“I bet you’re gonna get lucky again.” He was standing too close to her. “I bet your luck will get better and better all night, especially when we start playing double or nothing.”

Crap. She had definitely rubbed Keith’s face in it last time. Now he was wise to her. That was the problem with a small town. Oh well, at least she’d tried.

“So is that a bet?” she said in her real voice. “Do you wanna put money down on whether or not I’m actually hustling you? Cuz I’ll take you up on that one.”

Keith shook his head. He put his hand down on top of hers on the edge of the pool table. He was still smiling.

“You know there’s another game we can play together. It’s a lot more fun than pool.”

Ugh.

Lacey backed away. “It might be fun for you, but I don’t think I’d get much out of it.”

He followed her. “How do you know? Maybe it’d be more fun if you hustled me. That’d make things interesting, wouldn’t it? Twenty bucks says I can make you see heaven.”

She snorted. “Did you just say you’ll pay to screw me?”

Keith kept smiling. “You were gonna screw me all over this table and take my money anyway. I like my version better.”

Lacey’s blood suddenly went cold. This wasn’t funny anymore. It wasn’t a game. This asshole would seriously give her money if she went home with him. It would be so easy to go along with it. Twenty dollars for two orgasms--his would be real, hers would be fake. 

Would that be enough to buy a new skirt? Was she seriously fucking considering this?

She clenched her jaw. 

“I’m not a fucking hooker, Keith.”

He raised his arms in a pacifying gesture. “No harm, no foul,” he said. “I just don’t see how it’s any different from taking a girl to dinner first. Man pays for sex either way.”

Turning away, she slid her pool cue back on the rack. 

“You’re a pig.”

“Go ahead, darlin’, keep talking dirty. See what happens.”

Lacey kept her head held high as she went back to the bar where her uncle was nursing a beer.

“I need to get out of here,” she told him.

“Sounds good.” Uncle Manny took out his wallet and tossed a few crumpled fives onto the bar. “I’ll walk you home.”

****

 Outside, Lacey pulled her arms out of the sleeves of her hoodie and hugged her arms over her chest. This stupid button down was too frumpy to make her sexy and too thin to keep her warm. 

“Pool wasn’t any good for you tonight?” Uncle Manny asked casually.

“No,” she admitted. “Fricking Keith threw me off my game.”

“What do you need money for anyway? That dad of yours not feeding you?”

“I need money cuz I don’t have any.” Lacey kicked at a chunk of dirty snow. “Nobody does.”

“I’ve got a little, for the smartest kid in Storybrooke.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “You wanna tell me what it’s for?”

Lacey bit the inside of her mouth. She didn’t want to lie to her uncle, but she sure as hell didn’t want to tell him the truth. She walked in silence for a minute. He stayed with her. Finally, she said it.

“I wanna get some new clothes.”

“Like a real coat?”

She shrugged. “I mean, maybe. I could. If I had enough.”

“And this is a sudden yearning that couldn’t wait?”

She shrugged again. There was nothing like being around a parent-slash-guardian to make her feel like a complete child.

“Ace, what’s going on?”

She took a breath. “I… don’t want to tell you.”

He put his hand on her shoulder. “Lacey French, if you’re doing things you don’t want people to know about, then you shouldn’t do them.”

“It’s nothing bad!” Lacey pushed him away. “It’s just… personal.”

“That’s not reassuring,” he said. “What’s going on? What do you need money for?”

“I told you, to buy clothes!”

“Clothes for what? You can tell me, Lacey. I’ll help you out if you’re honest.”

“I just want to look nice on a date!” She shrieked the words out into the night. They hung in the air with the cloud of her breath.

Uncle Manny looked at her, confused and sympathetic at the same time. Eventually, he broke out into a broad smile.

“But that’s great, honey! You should go on dates. Why-- why didn’t you say so to begin with?”

She pulled her hands up through the neck hole of her hoodie to rub her face.

“I’m… It’s because of who I’m going out with.”

Uncle Manny scoffed and put his arm around her as they walked. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of dating someone. Unless it’s someone you should be ashamed of, but then you just don’t date them. It’s not a girl, is it?”

Lacey shook her head, to which Uncle Manny nodded.

“Not that there’s anything wrong with that, not in this modern world. You know I’m with you no matter what.”

She nodded. 

“And of course, no boy is ever going to be good enough for you. But as long as he’s not married, or some kind of asshole like that bastard Gold, there’s no reason to sneak around like--Lacey?”

She had stopped in her tracks. She looked up at her uncle and chewed on her lower lip.

Realization dawned. Uncle Manny let out a long breath. 

“Lace.” His voice was rough. “Tell me you’re dating a married man.”

Lips pressed together, she shook her head. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Standing in place, Uncle Manny stomped his work boots onto the sidewalk. The intent seemed to be half to warm his feet and half to cool his head.

“Gold,” he whispered. He pointed in the direction of Mr. Gold’s pawn shop. “That Gold? The guy that has every working person in Storybrooke by balls? The guy who’s practically the reason all of us are living paycheck to paycheck? You’re going on dates with him?”

She shrugged. “It’s only been one date so far, but he asked me to come to his house on Friday.”

“And you said yes? What, does he have something on you? Is that why you need money?”

“No!” Lacey insisted. “I was telling the truth! I just need clothes that are good enough for him.”

“‘Good enough for him?’ He’s not good enough for you, Lacey! That man is a scourge. He’s a parasite. He’s--he’s old enough to be your father!”

“If he was my father, I wouldn’t be in this situation. I’d actually have a good life.”

“You have a good life.” Uncle Manny wasn’t angry anymore. Or if he was, his anger had become still and stern. “Your parents worked every day to give you a good life.”

“And where did it get them?” Lacey snapped. “Where did it get me? Yes, we work hard, but our only reward is getting to work even harder. And I’m so tired.” Her face was hot. God, she was sniffling. “Being with Mr. Gold feels like a break, and that’s all I want anymore. Just a freaking break.” 

Uncle Manny’s arms were around her. He pulled her against his coveralls that smelled like motor oil and sweat. He squeezed her tight and patted her back as she tried to stop crying.

“Sorry,” she sniffed when they broke apart.

“Hey,” he tilted her chin up and looked her in the eye. “Love means never having to say you’re sorry.”

Despite her tears, Lacey laughed. It was an old joke for them. She knew what her next line had to be: “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”  

He hugged her again, kissed the top of her head. They didn’t talk until they were in front of Game of Thorns.

“I’d stay for dinner, but I’ve had Moe’s cooking before.”

She snorted at another joke she’d heard a thousand times, then she turned serious. “Um. You’re not going to tell anybody, are you?”

“About your…” he searched for the words, then shrugged, “love life?”

“Yeah. You know my dad will blow a gasket if he finds out I’m even talking to Mr. Gold, let alone--”

“Yeah, I know.” Uncle Manny cut her off. Clearly, he didn’t want to hear what she was doing with Mr. Gold.

“So, please don’t tell him? Promise?”

Her uncle sucked his teeth and slowly shook his head in silence. It took a long minute before he looked at her again.

“Okay,” he said. “You’re an adult. You know your own mind, you can make your own decisions. It’s just--be smart, okay? You are an adult, but you’re also our little girl. Me, your dad, your mom, rest her soul--we don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“I promise I won’t get hurt, if you promise not to blab my business all over town.”

“Aright,” he sighed. He pulled her in for a tight hug. “I promise. Just--please, take care of yourself.”

  She squeezed her uncle, then headed for the door. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

****

Lacey spent the entire working day on Thursday psychically willing the phone to ring with orders, preferably orders that had to be filled as soon as possible. Doing a rush job would give them an excuse to charge extra. She wouldn’t wish a funeral on anyone, but wouldn’t this be a great weekend for an impromptu wedding? So many of Lacey’s problems would be solved if just one panicked bride would come in and beg them to fill Dodci’s Dance Hall with centerpieces and garlands, not to mention all the bouquets and boutonnieres and flowers for the church too. Or maybe someone important could get sick and everyone in Storybrooke would send flowers to the hospital. Wasn’t there anyone in Storybrooke who was celebrating anything? Did people not have birthdays in late January? There were so many reasons people could need flowers. But this wasn’t a day when people did.

Hustling at the Rabbit Hole wasn’t an option anymore. If this were any other occasion, she would borrow a skirt from Mara or Janine, but that didn’t seem like a possibility. They wouldn’t take the news of her going on a date with Mr. Gold any better than Uncle Manny had. Mara’s store, where she also lived, was rented from Mr. Gold, and Janine had taken out a loan to pay for her beautician supplies. Both of them--really everyone in Storybrooke--saw him as the enemy. As far as they cared to think about it, he was the reason they were poor. If Lacey told her friends how much she wanted to be around him, they would think she was crazy, or morally degenerate.

Maybe she was. 

Or maybe they were wrong. Had her friends ever eaten at Bella Notte? Had they ever worn a dress that made them feel like sex on two legs? Had they ever watched a hapless waiter get strong-armed into breaking a stupid law for them? Had they ever been inside Mr. Gold’s house? Had they ever taken clothes off just because a man had asked them to? Had they ever known the thrill of promising to do whatever another person told them to do? Had they ever known the peace of being an object, of kneeling silently at someone’s feet?

Could they even understand why that was something anyone would want? Let alone that it was something Lacey craved in a place deeper than her bones? Some dark, hidden part of her soul wanted Mr. Gold, like she had never wanted anything else. 

And not having enough money to buy a stupid fucking skirt might keep her away from him forever. She could not abide that thought.

When Friday was another dud--a few orders came in, but they wouldn’t pay until delivery--Lacey knew that she was out of options. Since Mr. Gold would be picking her up tonight at eight, she was also out of time. So she did what everyone in Storybrooke did when they had nowhere else to go.

She went to the pawn shop. 

****

Lacey had always been intrigued by the phrasing of Mr. Gold’s store. The sign said Mr. Gold Pawnbroker and Antiquities Dealer. Most stores advertised the goods sold inside, but Mr. Gold advertised himself. This was who he was, this was what he did. No one came to this store because they needed things, they came because they needed what only he could offer them. Usually, they needed it enough to pay whatever price he set. 

When it came down to it, Lacey really wasn’t that different from any other desperate soul who came to Mr. Gold. The only difference was what she wanted.

It was three in the afternoon. Not technically her lunch break, but it wasn’t like she was getting paid to stick around the flower shop. Lacey changed into some gray dress pants and covered her work shirt with her least-frumpy cardigan. She stuffed her purse full of old toys and oddities that might--cumulatively, optimistically--be worth about ten dollars. She yelled at Dad that she was going out for a minute and then walked over to Mr. Gold’s.

The bell rang over her head when she walked through the front door. Mr. Gold was behind the counter, writing something in a ledger. He looked up at the sound and gave the slightest grin when he saw that it was her. 

“Miss French,” he said, with just a touch of warmth. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Lacey bit her lip, but forced herself to stay cool. She looked around at the shelves and display cases, slowly making her way forward. Another time, she would have marveled at the art and jewelry and historic do-dads, but now she slunk past them.

“I…” she dragged out the word, unsure of what she was saying as she said it, “was wondering… if you have any clothes for sale.” 

Mr. Gold raised his eyebrows. “Clothes?”

“Yeah.” She stopped in front of a spinning rack of necklaces. She couldn’t look at him. “You know, like vintage stuff?”

He walked over to her, behind the display case. “I’ve got some historic naval uniforms, but nothing that would suit you.”

He was in front of her now, so they were separated by nothing but two feet of glass and gadgets. She didn’t raise her head. Some of these necklaces were really pretty. One gold chain with a mother-of-pearl pendant spoke to her for some reason.

“What do you need, Miss French?”

His voice was gentle, coaxing. He understood how much she hated what she was doing. He probably talked to a lot of people who were feeling what she was feeling. At least he didn’t seem to be enjoying her discomfort.

Lacey took a breath, and looked up at him.

“I need a skirt,” she admitted. “I don’t have anything to wear on our date tonight.”

He blinked. Then his face grew infinitesimally softer. 

“I see,” he said. 

“I brought some stuff.” She set her purse on the counter, began to pull out the junk she’d brought from home. “I thought I might--”

“Please,” he held up a hand. “You don’t need to do that. I’m more than happy to assist you, Miss French.” He turned away from her, went back over to his antique cash register. 

“I can pay you back…”

“Oh you will,” he grinned. He took a bill out of the cash register and set it on the counter. Lacey came closer and saw that it was a fifty. “Will this be enough?”

She fought the urge to snatch the money and run all the way to Modern Fashions. It was the same feeling she’d had when he’d given her the money to tip that stupid waiter. The thrill, the rush, of having cash and knowing she could do anything with it. Fifty dollars was more than she had spent on clothes in the past year. Fifty dollars could cover the bill at Granny’s for her whole family--or at least for Janine and Mara to have real lunches.

Fifty dollars was more than twice what Keith had offered her to have sex with him.

Lacey pulled her hands back. She dug her fingernails into her palms. 

“I… I shouldn’t accept this,” she said.  

“Why not?” Mr. Gold asked, unperturbed. “Are you worried I’ll take advantage of you? Wouldn’t you say that ship has sailed, Miss French?”

She looked down at the dirt-stained sneakers she wore for work. In a resigned whisper, she told Mr. Gold the same thing she said to Keith at the Rabbit Hole.

“I’m not a hooker.”

“Of course not.” Mr. Gold’s voice was smooth and confident. He came out from behind the counter to stand in front of her. Slowly, he raised his hand to cup her cheek, subtly forcing her to look at him. “You’re a woman who knows what she wants and who will do whatever she needs to do to make it happen.”

Lacey’s breath shook. Her eyes were hot and she was trembling.

“What do you want?” he asked her. He really was being very patient. 

“I want to go on another date with you, Mr. Gold.”

“And what do you need to do in order to make that happen?”

“I need--” she stopped. I need a skirt wasn’t the right answer. Mr. Gold had asked her what she needed to do. “I need to get some money, Mr. Gold.”

“Ask me for it.” He gave the order like it was a caress. “Ask me for the money and I’ll give it to you, Miss French.”

 This wasn’t like with Keith. This wasn’t being so desperate for money that she’d have sex with a stranger. This was being so desperate for sex that she’d take money to make sure she’d get it. She’d let Mr. Gold pay her like a whore just to make sure he kept treating her like a slut. 

She swallowed. She had to swallow a few times before she was brave enough to speak.

“Please, Mr. Gold, will you give me fifty dollars so I can have something suitable to wear for our date tonight?”

“I would be happy too, Miss French.” He lowered his hand from her cheek and picked the bill up off of the counter. Gently, he took her hand by the wrist, placed the fifty on her palm, and closed her fingers over it.

He grinned at her.

“Buy yourself something pretty.”

Lacey clenched her jaw. Now he was enjoying this. She bit back words that would make him take the money back. Instead, she said what she knew he wanted her to say.

“Thank you, Mr. Gold.”

“You’re quite welcome, Miss French.”

He turned around then, went back behind the counter. Lacey understood she was dismissed. Facing the door, she took a breath and checked to make sure none of her tears had spilled out onto her cheeks. 

Before she opened the door, Mr. Gold called over to her. 

“Miss French,” he said. “If you happen to buy a red skirt and wear nothing underneath it, I will eat your cunt for dessert tonight.”

Lacey’s eyes went wide. Her shock was less for what Mr. Gold had said and more for his nonchalant tone. He was talking about sex in the same way he would talk about running errands.

“Do you understand me, Miss French?”

What about it did he think she didn’t understand? Then Lacey realized she hadn’t answered him. Mr. Gold expected an answer when he spoke to people. 

“Yes, Mr. Gold,” she said. Shock had made her voice a little breathy. “Thank you for telling me, Mr. Gold.”

He gave her a nod. 

Dazed and excited, Lacey left his shop and made her way down the street to Modern Fashions. She had a red skirt to buy.

[callahanisms]

in the kitchen - hotd cast

blame my binging of epicurious for this one guys. (i also generally love to cook and bake so yeah)

funny enough i have a got cookbook in my cooking wishlist on amazon lol

when it comes to these headcanons, i tried my best to incorporate the worldbuilding from westeros since each character would have different tastes in cuisines (like alicent and criston, as primary examples). i have not read the books but hopefully i can do this justice.

ser criston cole

to the surprise of many, criston is very good in the kitchen. better to trust him with cooking over baking, but he’s a decent baker. his food has a lot of spices incorporated in them and it tends to be spicier than what most people aren’t used to. you will often find himself cooking late at night when no one else can interrupt him. he enjoys the quiet and to make some dornish comfort food that his mother used to make for him. more often than not, criston buys the spices and produce himself. he’s very particular about his fruit. kind of like an immigrant grandma or mom.

“evening (y/n). i did not know you would be up so late. it does so happen that i have made a little bit too much food for myself. would you like some? it’s roasted chicken with figs, olives, and some spices.”

daemon targaryen

daemon is not a bad cook? it’s really iffy considering that cooking and baking are things he never did. he doesn’t have much experience but somehow, he always manages to make something that tastes good. he definitely does not measure, definitely does not keep track of time. and somehow, it all comes together. he’s a little less chaotic when it comes to baking and the bread he’s made tastes really good. you’re always struggling to get a loaf from him.

“do you want some (y/n)? i slaved away for hours to make this. i promise it tastes good. at least that’s what my brother told me. don’t know if he’s lying or not.”

rhaenyra targaryen

rhaenyra is not a good cook. you have strictly been told to keep her away from the kitchen. there have been more than enough fires started when she’s tried. baking is a no good and the best she can do for cooking is just throwing stuff into a pot with some water and letting it simmer down into a stew. even then, she has managed to burn things before. better off letting someone else cook for rhaenyra.

“this is quite delicious (y/n). you have outdone yourself. perhaps you should come back to dragonstone with me just so i can have your cooking to myself.”

alicent hightower

alicent’s a homecook. she cooked more often when she was younger compared to being an adult. however, she has great technique. she much prefers baking considering the fact that it feels like she can exercise full control over the little thing she’s doing, which is opposite to her own life. definitely a stress baker and needs to do it when she’s alone so she can have time for herself. it’s her version of self care. she also is very picky about produce and comes into her children’s room unannounced with cut fruit. (there is no argument about this, i’m sorry)

“(y/n), dear, i noticed you were looking a little pale today. so i cut up some blood oranges from dorne and made some pigeon stew for you. remember to eat, okay? chasing aegon should be your priority after you nourish yourself.”

aegon targaryen

aegon seems to have inherited his sister’s skills because this man cannot be trusted in a kitchen. he has definitely undercooked chicken before and sausages and beef. definitely tried to cook once and alicent almost fainted when she saw that the chicken somehow turned blue. when he’s drunk, he’s alright. can actually put together a decent meal that isn’t undercooked. but never trust his technical skills. he almost chopped off two of his fingers once.

“come with you to the kitchen? mother won’t allow me to go in. i didn’t do anything i promise! aside from...almost cutting my finger off...and setting the dough on fire.”

aemond targaryen

aemond is not a bad cook. he’s very good at it, actually. he does not do it often but if the time calls for it, he will. he also is very good with baking and frequently comes to your room to deliver whatever he has concocted in the kitchen. there is something to note, however, which is that aemond’s palate is a little more on the sensitive side. so when he seasons things to his liking, it tends to be underseasoned for others. he also cannot handle spice. accidentally had some of criston’s food and almost died.

“i hope i’m not interrupting your studies, my love. because i come bearing lemon cakes and rabbit stew.”

helaena targaryen

helaena is very experimental in the kitchen. she spends an awful lot of time on her presentation rather than the process. the process doesn’t take long. it’s just the plating and making it look to her heart’s content that does. depending on the day, the food can taste as good as it looks. sometimes it’s a little underwhelming but regardless, eating helaena’s food is always a pleasant experience. she also balances her seasonings and flavors well unlike her younger brother.

“(y/n), are you hungry? i can make something quick before you get back to your duties. it would be a nice break.”

jacaerys velaryon

jace is someone who needs structure within the kitchen. he’s great at following recipes. and that’s why his food tastes good. he needs to follow a recipe when in the kitchen. it gives him some structure and a sense of direction. he’s okay when it comes to cooking without a recipe but much prefers having one. he’s also very clean, often cleaning as he goes so he doesn’t have to do it later.

“oh! don’t worry about that (y/n). i can clean up. i just finished with the dough so there’s plenty of time for me to spend cleaning. it’s a nice point of relaxation.”

[thenotebookwizard]

Fandom & Poetry

Or - Everything Everyone Wanted Me To Know I Learned From Fandom (part one - maybe)

I have no idea if I've already posted this to tumblr. If I have, oops. If not, I probably should have.

There's a list. It's a real list, but it changes. Things get added and erased and moved on it all the time when you're not looking, and no one ever seems to have a complete copy of it. But it is a very important list none the less, and it is a list everyone is supposed to be familiar with.

There are, in fact, pop quizzes and final exams about this list.

Sometimes, the list is full of things we were supposed to learn in school. Sometimes, it's full of things you should never learn in school.

Most of the time, the list is populated and curated by the strongly held and oft-expressed opinions of people older and wiser or younger and zanier than you are.

But it is a list we all judged by.

The list of Things People Are Supposed to Know. Or, rather, I should say 'things people who grew up in America' are supposed to know and/or be familiar enough to convincingly pretend they know.

If I'm being honest, I didn't learn any of it in school, but I did learn most of it from fandom.

Poetry

So, every kid in America who has gone to public school has been told to read and/or write a poem from time to time. Every teacher and textbook has a different interpretation of each poem, and each new poem feels more daunting and confusing than the one before. Sometimes, we have to read stories that really just long poems about wars and wooden horses and self-insert OCs diving through the layers of hell to find out what the fuck is wrong with people. (And, of course, failing to do so despite getting a fairly hefty balance of cosmic reward miles.)

For most of us, poetry is hard and confusing. While I've never met an English teacher who didn't love the mandatory yearly poetry unit, I have often wondered how much of that enthusiasm is just great acting and how much of it is real.

But the truth is it barely matters (to me), because I already rather like poetry. I'm not too bad at reading it, even if I am terrible at writing it.

So far, anyway.

Of course, if not for fandom, I never would have gotten into poetry. I never would have read Alfred, Lord Tennyson, Seamus Heaney, or William Butler Yeats. Or anyone else, for that matter.

It started, as most things did for me, with a Star Trek book. Dreadnought! by Diane Carey - one of the Star Trek books by Pocket Books. It was published in 1990, and is in now way canonical to the *Star Trek* universe. Very few of those books are. It is, for all intents and purposes, professional fanfiction.

(Which, of course, I consider to be pretty awesome.)

I loved that book. It was one of the first first-person narratives I really got into, and it was interesting for 5th-grade me to read from the perspective of a young adult woman. I devoured that book.

And then, in the middle of all my snarky action and cool new characters (OC for the win!), the main character's trusty Vulcan best friend gave her a book of poems. And wouldn't you know it, the author, Diane Carey, had gone and written a poem.

And put it right in her book. The characters even had a moment reading the poem.

So, I read the poem. Well, I tried really hard to read the poem. My eyes kinda skimmed over it the first time. And the second time. Dyslexia was winning, and my brain didn't want to accept the new input of poetry. It had already allowed me prose, hadn't it? What was this new nonsense!

I persevered. This wasn't a regular poem. It was a Star Trek poem in one of my precious Star Trek novels - the reading of which was my victory. I had overcome dyslexia and learned to read so I could read the same Star Trek books my Mom read.

I read the poem. I read it again. And again. I can't say that is would have spoken to me if I knew more about poetry or if I weren't a *Star Trek* fanboy and completely unapologetic about loving things just because they were Star Trek.

"Explorations" by Lyras From DREADNOUGHT by Diane Carey This is the sixth element, Time crossing time until all stands still and we may think Study, but touch Learn, and later know Tame the craggy agonies of toil's time memory and memoring come late Comes shattery, scattery When all is lost, it is not to die - It is to die well.

And in middle school, when we were assigned to read poems, I knew I could read poetry. I didn't go into it worried that I couldn't or that I would get stuck and stymied as I had by some of the nonfiction I'd been assigned.

I did okay in that poetry unit. I even used the poem from Dreadnought and my teacher was (mostly) okay with it once I showed her the book and the context.

Later when classes wanted us to read poems we had never read before. I could have lied and said I just discovered it, but that wouldn't have worked out well.

Instead, I turned to the gospel of space opera - in this case, the annals of Babylon 5 - then, a fresh new series on TV with groundbreaking special effects telling long-form stories. One of the main characters read a poem.

The Second Coming by Yeats became one of my favorite poems almost overnight. Not only is the imagery rich and powerful and moving, but it had been read by a character on one of my favorite TV shows. One of the only TV shows I really made time to watch, because I really didn't have a lot of TV time. I made sure to pick and choose the best shows. (Even as an adult, I think I chose the best shows.)

Finding that poem in the library was easy. Finding other poems wasn't hard, either. When our Professor was fussing at us to find a nice, long story poem that wasn’t' Dante or Milton to read and study was proving hard. I liked Milton and had some strong feelings about Dante - and both of those esteemed literary giants were awesome, because they wrote Bible fanfic AUs and were beloved by literature professors and English teachers alike. I always felt like I was getting away with something when I used one for an assignment.

But then, Star Trek delivered unto me a new poem, providing answers for me - as it always has. Chief O'brien and Doctor Bashir, history buffs and re-enactors extraordinaries, spoke a rather epic poem as the USS DEFIANT flew into a hopeless battle.

I had a few lines. Those lines, and the nascent power of early search engines, turned up the name of the poem: Charge of the Light Brigade.

My professor was thrilled when I worked on Tennyson. When I painted a picture of futile honor, noble sacrifice, and the terrible tides of war in a paper that was almost completely based on a few minutes of a DEEP SPACE NINE episode.

It got a great grade on that paper. I got the respect of a Professor who for real and for true loved poetry as he loved few other things. I was given praise and was told that I had a rare gift for seeing into the heart of poetry.

Not true.

I just have a vast store of fandom knowledge rattling around in my otherwise empty mind, and I a great love of dramatic last stands.

Fandom taught me about poetry. Because of how those stories used poems. Because of how those stories were told and because of what the poems meant to those characters in those moments.

Fandom has taught me almost everything I know, most of what I never wanted to know, and almost all of the things that most people wish I didn't know.

It has also given me poetry.

Who says fandom teaches nothing, and is just a pale imitation of real literature? That these shows and books don't teach or enlighten or enrich.

Even though they really, really do.

[ewingstan]

So all the wildbow protags seem to have some frog-being-boiled trick about them where you are nodding your head along with all their choices and then look up from where you started and start noticing how bonkers things have gotten. But how exactly that manifests differs between books in pretty interesting ways.

Taylor makes a bunch of choices that read as understandable for an awkward teenager trying to make the best out of a bad situation, but it doesn’t take long before those choices become pretty clearly (although crucially often not to the extent that they would stick out while reading through the first time) indicative of a much higher willingness to use people as tools than the norm, not be motivationally hindered by empathy, etc. And of course in hindsight a lot of her choices are less careful utility calculus and more an expression of her desire for friendship and control as well as her need to be invaluable in whatever circumstance she finds herself in.

Blake has a much more prototypical set of ethics and motivations, and these largely don’t change throughout the text. He starts and ends as your stock angry but fundamentally “good” YA protagonist. He’s just put into situations where the morals of that type of character means he acts like a horror movie monster. Which is a pretty neat thing for a text to do, to take your typical Percy Jackson-esque character and show that “hey if you put him in enough situations then he could end up asking a facebook group of teenage girls if they want him to kill any of their husbands.”

Sylvester is an interesting case because he starts performing actions the audience would consider objectionable well before they’d get acclimated to it as they could in the case of Taylor or Blake. He performs extrajudicial killings of rouge academics for the government using manipulation and underhanded tactics while peeking up people’s shirts. It’d be tempting to say that his gradual transformation is into an okay person, and that might be true to an extent—the seeds to him eventually rebelling from the academy get planted early and slow shifts in his perspective before that point could be detected going a while back. I don’t think that would be the whole story though. It would probably be more accurate to say that you don’t notice how much Sy’s matured until he’s at the point of rewriting his personality to an adult’s persona.

Its much too early in my reading of Ward to be able to say if the pattern is going to hold. But I found it interesting to see one of the big morally questionable decisions be made early, and in a pretty noticeable way. I’m talking about Victoria secretly tailing Rain home after the capture-the-flag game, after he specifically denied her offer to follow him for protection. It doesn’t read as totally unjustified or anything, she is doing it to protect someone’s life when she has good reason to think its threatened. But she’s also doing it because she’s suspicious Rain’s been lying. And she flies in uncomfortable conditions for hours to find out what he’s up to. Its a huge breach of privacy, and while well-intentioned, it does read strongly as Cop Shit™. And while I only have my own response to the text to go off of, it kind of feels like it was meant to be framed as a pretty ethically questionable act on Vicky’s part. So if I was reading this with no knowledge of the story, I might think “Oh, wildbow’s done the here’s-how-being-in-the-social-position-of-the-criminal-puts-certain-behavioral-pressures-on-you story, now he’s doing the here’s-how-being-in-the-social-position-of-the-protector/peacekeeper-puts-certain-behavioral-pressures-on-you story. We’re gonna see how the moral beliefs that make someone strongly want to be a superhero, and the system of designated “heroes” they get slotted into, cause a lot of shitty behaviors.” But from everything I’ve heard, that is very much not the type of story I’ll be getting! This isn’t the “ACAB doesn’t exclude the well-intentioned cops” story, this is the “we do need a carceral justice system because people need to face punishment for past crimes and also some people are just inherently evil” story. And right now I’m not seeing how we get there?

[melkor-did-nothing-wrong]

Hullo!

Just wanted to say that your blog is really cool! I’ve been back on and off in my Tolkien hyperfixation recently (mainly Silm but overall also works), and yours is one of the few that caught my eye, esp with the pinned post :)

Tho, I’m sorry that you seem to be attacked for shipping Angbang “wrong”, that’s just sad

Just because you have a different outlook on things doesn’t give others the right to attack you for it. But, some people apparently don’t have enough empathy and/or sympathy to see that :/

I know it’s so much easier said than done, but try ignoring those people? They will have a problem no matter what you do, the way I see it, so might as well enjoy the thing you do regardless, since it’s not hurting anybody, right?

So… I hope you have a good timezone, and hopefully people will educate themselves on basic kindness and respect soon :)

- Dragon Anon

Been sitting on this one for a few days without posting because I needed to stare at it one on one and think how to best reply to it.

Unfortunately, time did not help as I have nothing wittier or more thought provoking to say to any of your points than I did upon receiving this so I may as well post this now rather than have you waiting.

I could apologize for this blog catching your interest, rather than all the good ones. I could apologize because I produce no stunning art or amazing fics beloved by all and have no large variety of silm ships to offer you. This was supposed to be an Ainur blog more broadly, but hard times directed me to my comfort ship within the silm and I've stuck with posting it to the detriment of all else for... a while. There are so many wonderful silm blogs for you to find and enjoy. With more Ainur and Eldar and dwarves and men. Some of them I wish with all my heart would tag content relating to specific ships or characters so I could filter it more easily and join the rest of the community in enjoying them as well.

While I'm personally exhausted to the point of snapping at the prospect of being harassed over my ship takes, I do need to remember that this is the internet, and someone out there will always use the veil of anonymity to bring others down. And naturally, if there has to be one specific and certain ship within this fandom which gets all the mockery and vitriol for being "the one people should be discouraged from shipping", I suppose it's only natural for it to be the one with the bad people in it, rather than a more beloved ship favored by more people. And if anyone within that "bad" ship is going to get hate, of course the easiest target is some autistic foreigner whose takes are generally bizarre in the eyes of the wider public ("What?! someone who did something BAD is capable of FEELINGS?!?!? and of maintaining a happy relationship?!? how dare you!"). People see any nuance given to villains, any nuance given to villains in a RELATIONSHIP, heck, people see any joy and genuine love attributed to these characters and they just have to pounce.

I just never understood why every other Villain loves Villain ship in any and all fandoms on the planet get more grace and nuance than this one. Silm is largely supposed to be the more "adult" fandom in the legendarium. We have no visual media to popularize it, so it remains in the hands of the older fans who read the book and had to sit down with their thoughts about what was written in it. And yet other fandoms, including ones aimed at children or young teens are more accepting and less judgmental of their peers when it comes to shipping some fictional meanies.

Ignoring them IS difficult. Every time I get a notification about an ask in my inbox or a direct message, of course I want to assume the best. I welcome the prospect of an open conversation with anyone who agrees OR disagrees with me and I want to leave the door open to people who want to change my mind or even their own mind, in good faith. It's just aggravating to see that half of them are simply offensive for the sake of being offensive. Because I'd post them if they didn't have nasty terms in them aimed at real living people. I'd have the conversation. Instead, it's nothing but a demotivation campaign that drains me of my desire to interact with the wider fandom or post my own ideas anywhere. But I suppose you're right. No matter what I do, how hard I try to fit myself to one opinion or another, some people will still never be happy about it. The sooner I make my peace with it, the better. Maybe one day it will be easier to do. Maybe one day I'll get there on my own.

Regardless, thank you for all of this.

[felixravinstills]

Send Me a Character & I'll Tell You✨️ - Festus

Ask Game

Thanks, anon! I feel like I haven't talked about Festus in a bit...

My first impression

(Somehow, I had heard about him before I read the book.) Snow has a friend who's like a golden retriever? huh. interesting.

My impression now

Wow, whoever I talked to pre-reading the book really misled me into thinking he was a one-note golden retriever type. He's like so empathetic and sweet to people he's close to, but he can be so callous at times. I love it!

I am also less vocal about it than with Felix, but I also have visions of dissecting Festus. Pulling back the layers, but like imagined visually.

Favorite thing about that character

The dogfights. I'm not joking. The moment he mentioned them in the book, I was all in. I was invested.

Least favorite thing

Needed more of him (me with every mentor). Wish we could have seen more of him. I would have loved to hear more about him and Lysistrata in the Epilogue especially.

Favorite line/scene

“I couldn’t save her,” he said. “I couldn’t stop the blood.” “I don’t think anyone could have. At least you tried. That’s what matters,” Festus consoled him. [...] “Come to my place,” Festus said, but when they reached his apartment, he suddenly broke into tears. They saw him onto the elevator and said good night. (Ch. 7)

I just know he's a good friend, okay? He might make you super uncomfortable (Coriolanus and the Train Station Alleyway Bet <- and i personally have always read this as very uncomfortable), but he's like trying? Which counts for something in my book. In the Capitol.

Favorite interaction that character has with another

This was going to go in the above section originally, but then I decided it fit better here:

Heavensbee Hall erupted around Coriolanus, and Festus organized a few classmates to lift his chair and parade him around the dais. (Ch. 20)

A character that I wish that character would interact with more

What I would give for Festus and Sejanus interactions in the book. I want to see what type of behavior led to his invite to the post-mortem birthday party memorial.

Another character from another fandom that reminds me of that character

Berga Gandor from B!, and yes, I know that no one know who that is. Alternatively, there is another character, but I think I'd get beat to death in an alley if I made that comparison, so I won't. I just think people would misinterpret what parts of each character, I'm trying to compare.

A headcanon about that character

I think he has like normal Capitolite parents. They are just the average sort you'll find. I named them Daphne and Meleager because Greek Mythology tree related names (I also named them in like February, so idk, maybe I could come up with better names now, but I've gotten used to them).

Anyway, the Creed parents are you know in a marriage of convenience. Meleager's not particularly present but not really absent. Daphne's just kind of sitting pretty and a little bit of an alcoholic but from the sounds of it most of the adults in the Capitol are having problems with alcohol. Festus can't really connect with them very well, but their dysfunction isn't as bad as... some other families both in canon or otherwise (my Ravinstills)...

A song that reminds of that character

Need More Bandages by the Mountain Goats. idk, I just do. Y'all, I am music illiterate.

An unpopular opinion about that character

I've said it a couple times, but I can imagine movie! Festus being him at his most callous. Like I'm still bummed out that he doesn't have any of his nicer scenes in the movie, but I can still imagine book! Festus acting like that in the right circumstances. I still understand why people make the distinctions between the two though. The movie's framing is def wanting us to read him as a more antagonistic character.

Favorite picture

Picture of Festus I've had saved for a while, because I liked it, but there wasn't enough movement to make a gif.

[notadryseatinthehouse]

So we finally got around to watching Lady Chatterley’s Lover on Netflix recently and for a number of reasons I low-key haven’t stopped thinking about it since. I haven’t read the book, although I own it and it’s sitting on my table waiting for me to pick it up.

One of the key scenes that sticks out in my mind is their first sex scene. After reading some reviews of the movie, as well as comments on Reddit and elsewhere about it, I have been made to understand that this is the worst sex scene in the film, and even that I might be a bad person for liking it.

This is not to denigrate the reasons people don’t like it or even find it problematic: she’s just had a panic attack after a deeply uncomfortable dinner party with her husband and his shitty guests, so it could be argued that he is taking advantage of her while she’s in a less-than-ideal mental state. Additionally, the actual act itself is quite…abrupt. There’s no foreplay really, they just kind of start having sex on the floor of his little birding cabin. It’s not the most romantic setting and, of course, female bodies don’t work that way.

But I’d like to speak in defense of this kind of sex: what I like to call “oh, so we’re doing this?” sex.

You’ve been flirting with someone for a while. Maybe it’s very casual flirting, maybe it’s shy on both sides, perhaps you aren’t even sure if the other person is actually flirting with you or if they’re just being polite. Still, every time you see them you get butterflies in your stomach but you also feel like you can be yourself, and they seem to give you a lot of attention and eye contact, so it doesn’t feel like an unrequited crush or anything.

And then, after weeks or months of this, you experience a real moment of real feelings, very big feelings that may have nothing to do with this other person, but they’re there, and they take care of you, they get you someplace warm, and you feel like you should be embarrassed but for some reason you’re not - not even a little. And they are caring for you in a way you’ve never felt cared for in your life, or at least in a very long time. And then all that flirting, those furtive glances, those coy looks, those happy smiles, those secret jokes, suddenly build up like water at a dam, begging to burst through. You know instantly what you want, and you look at them and you know that they want it too, and you know you could get caught at any moment, but then suddenly…

“Oh, so we’re doing this?”

“Yes, let’s do this.”

There’s a romance to this desperation, to this need that arises after a long time of putting your own desires on a shelf for safe-keeping. Isn’t it lovely to be able to take it down and hold it in your hands for a brief, stolen moment, maybe with the “very wrong” (but entirely right) person who will hold it with you and add their own? Would you waste a single moment on foreplay, when you have been ready for this and quietly wishing for this for weeks?

So I guess that’s my defense of the first love scene between Connie and Oliver. The film did a lot to show you how stifled and unfulfilled she had become in her marriage, and how easy and free she felt around Oliver. The scene gives us that release, even if it’s awkward and stunted and brief and uncomfortable to watch. Sometimes that’s what sex is; but between two eager and consenting adults, it can still be really good sex. I personally appreciated it, because all sex can’t be slow, gentle, lying in a meadow sex. (Although that was fun too.)