#I like her a lot he just adds more to the narrative okay!

[star-reyes]

This is so

#Marth of the sea #jo mullein #sojourner mullein #green lantern #dc power #Nothing about his job about his politician or his species just him being an ex side piece #Ngl I like him better than her other love interest but if I'm too loud people will wack me #I like her a lot he just adds more to the narrative okay!

[tastesousweet]

⭒ the girl with the tattoo (iv) - pt 1 pt 2 p3

matt sturniolo x fem!oc / reader

summary : maybe the only way matt and y/n can stand being around each other is to fuck each other

warnings : weed, alcohol/drinking, smut (slightly rough but not very?? pretty filthy tho), profanity

mickey speaks : rlly hate how the smut turned out but maybe its jus me being a perfectionist + i changed a lot of shit ab UCLA (mostly grad dates) to fit into my narrative okay, i knowwww. only sorta proofread bc ive been busy, enjoy <3

THIS IS PART FOUR GO READ THE FIRST THREE PARTS DUHH

"FUCK!"

the turn of spring to summer in LA is typically the most eventful time of year. more parties are thrown than ever before in celebration of the season change, the boom of tourism begins, and of course school years are ending.

you celebrated your college graduation from UCLA only a week ago, with a large dinner at your favorite seafood restaurant and your friends all excitedly in attendance. matt was also there but you let it be known you invited him only so you wouldn’t feel bad (though he claims he wouldn’t have cared if you did or not).

you also shared an excruciating breakfast that same morning with your parents (both suffocating you with their traditional views that reminded you exactly why you moved hours away from them to attend school). you were cautious to wear items of clothing that would hide your tattoo and kept any conversations on the topic of your schooling rather than outside interests (not that they even care to ask) out of fear you may expose your routine of going out to party most weekends.

your brother was also at breakfast and you could tell he was trying his hardest to keep a positive attitude for you. you immediately noticed his wet face when you gave him a full hug after your ceremony, which made you cry, mostly out of missing him and love.

"it's not that bad!" andrea looks at you in the mirror as she continues to give herself soft curls.

“how the fuck did i manage to make this one downturned and this one up,” you reply in frustration while you point to either wing of eyeliner on your grimaced face.

andrea giggles and aims the stick of the curling iron at makeup remover lying in the sink, “just get a q-tip and fix it, cariño.” (“honey”)

you move around her to grab a q-tip from a small jar in the medicine cabinet before following her instructions, getting extra close to the mirror.

remi barges in the bathroom dressed in a mini skirt and a detailed patterned top, “hi nick!” she exclaims to her phone screen, placing it down on the counter while untwisting her lipgloss.

you can see nick’s awkward face as he sits in the car (making his camera jump at any dip or bump in the road), “sooo…this better be erin’s bathroom ceiling im staring at.”

“and if i say it’s not?” remi giggles to herself before rubbing her lips together to spread the gloss further.

“i’d say what the fuck are you guys still doing at home?! y/n’s our mutual friend that even got us into this bitch and i’m not just walking into some sorority house acting like i know any of these fucking people.”

“and we didn’t go to college!” chris exclaims to add to the point.

“yeah, we didn’t go to fuckin’ college!” nicks adds before his face falters, “the fuck does that have to do with it?”

chris’ voice is low as he explains himself, “you know…like, obviously we aren’t gonna know shit about some delta kappa omega?”

nick comedically pauses and the three of you watch the screen to see him staring at chris with no facial expression, “…okay chris. anyway, get your asses over here ASAP. we need you.”

“okay, we don’t need them. you’re being dramatic just chill out,” matt huffs from the driver’s seat.

“hey, we’re leaving soon i promise, nick.” andrea assures and remi picks her phone off of the counter to show the girl.

"thanks, but we'll be fine. erin told me where to find her, let's not get ridiculous." matt continues dismissing the conversation he finds so unnecessary.

you hold yourself back from saying anything but you can’t help but wonder just how close erin has got to matt. and how she managed to hold any conversations without pissing him off (no way a little lap dance dismissed matt’s entire personality). she hasn’t been too explicit about anything happening between them, only cluing you all in through her frequent mentions of him.

chris’ loud voice beams, “yeah, you ladies take your time! nick gimme the phone-” chris’ smiley face takes up remi’s screen now that the phone has shifted, “you know, who the fuck are we to tell any of you to rush?!” he sees andrea in view (with a form fitting dress and warm toned makeup) and can’t help the rush of words that decide to spill from his mouth, “andreayoulookfineasshitbytheway- and i just think, uh,” he giggles at his poor recovery and at andrea shaking her head and biting the side of her mouth (her very andrea way of blushing). “um, yeah, fuck, what was i sayin’?” he turns to matt.

nick laughs from the backseat at chris’ comment (he thinks it’s generally embarrassing opposed to andrea who finds herself embarrassingly flattered by him).

“nothing important, say your goodbyes now, we just pulled up.” matt gives his short advice and takes the phone. “see you, bye,” he hangs up and chris punches his arm immediately.

“dudeee!” chris groans. matt doesn’t give any reaction besides handing nick his phone back without looking at him.

“we’ll see them in less than an hour, get your shit.” matt tilts his head out the door as he opens it and exits the car.

“he’s so annoying.” chris huffs and turns to nick as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

“i don’t know him, he’s your fuckin’ brother.” nick shrugs and acts clueless. chris laughs into his seat and nick knows making chris laugh makes him feel way better than just shitting on matt would’ve.

matt opens his door again, “get your gigglin’ asses out here!”

౨ৎ

matt's suprised he's lasted this long at this party without a fucking drink.

he's seen just about every partygoer trope there is - drunk guys and "you need to sober up" girlfriends, overly excited drunks far too impressed by each new song that plays, the loner type who strictly speak within their circle even when wasted, et cetera - and has managed to lose everyone he knows in this crowd, leaving him alone with DD responsibilities in a sorority house bouncing with excitement in honor of their “graduating senior sisters.”

speaking of, he’s only spoken to erin once all night. he did see you with your friends briefly, early in the night before you were swooped away with nick to be introduced to some guy he just met.

so like all times matt is bitchless and bored, he decides to smoke. he reaches in his jacket pocket for the joint he rolled before the party, in case of emergency.

but just as he raises the lighter towards his mouth he's interrupted by an airy, high pitched voice, “um, excuse me!” matt looks over, “yeah, you. sorry, you can't have drugs in the house.” the blonde frowns.

“it’s weed…” matt clarifies, taking the joint from between his lips.

“uh huh! and that is prohibited, outside please,” she guides her hand, drink in tow, towards a sliding door behind her.

he's not gonna nitpick with some chick about the umbrella term of 'drugs' or debate whether the alcohol she's drinking lies under it, so he just nods his head “cool,” and removes himself from his spot against the wall to walk around her and out of the door.

౨ৎ

you slump against a nearby couch as you recover from a hour of dancing alongside your best friends. remi sits next to you and leans her head on your shoulder as you both look around at the room full of people (a shade of deep fuchsia covers the room from multiple LED lights around the large house).

when you feel your own blinks become slower you shrug your shoulder and look at remi's profile, "we should probably get up rem, or else we'll fall asleep. this couch is way too comfy." you sigh.

"mmm... yeah. kinda want another drink but," she turns to look behind you both, "the kitchen's all the way over there..."

"now i know you two aren't tapping out of my party already?!"

you both look over to see erin dressed in a small glittered party dress, making her shine as she walks closer. "erin, where the fuck have you been?!" you excitedly rise from the couch and give her a hug.

"it's actually so fucking hard to host a graduation party, especially with my sorority sisters- they've had me doing all these traditions and shit, i haven't had time to talk to like anyone!" she explains to both you and remi.

"well, at least you look good, bitch!" remi adds and holds erins hand to make her twirl in her dress.

"thank you," she blushes and looks down then back to you two, "have either of you seen the triplets?"

"i think nick's off with some dude and chris is 'teaching' drea how to play beer pong..." you trail off and look to remi, "have you seen matt at all...?"

"not recently, i don't think so?" she looks over to erin.

"oh okay, that's fine. just wanna make sure they're having funnn." she draws her words out as she plays with the ends of her hair and smiles. you and remi can both tell she something bothers her more than she's leading on.

"e, come with us to grab drinks," you hold both remi and erin's hands and guide them with you to the kitchen.

౨ৎ

matt hadn't realized how hard he was staring at you dancing until chris came up to him with wild eyes and a loud laugh, making him snap away from whatever trance he was in.

"you okay, matt? your brain's not buzzkillin' right?"

matt straightens himself to no longer lean on the wall, "no."

"you sure?"

"yes?"

"maybe you should say fuck DD and have a drink or two, might give you somethin' to smileee aboutttt!" chris laughs.

"don't be stupid, chris. 'm not driving drunk."

"obviously we'd get an uber, matt." he emphasizes with a 'duh' attitude. "i get funnier when drunk, not stupid."

"right," matt offers a light laugh.

he throws a hand over matt's shoulder as they both face the crowd of dancing people, "god damn andrea's fucking hot- swear she's been feelin' me all night," chris hypes himself up then brings his red solo cup towards his mouth.

matt's eyes shift from you to andrea, who's limbs move just as freely and smile is just as wide. "that's good, that's good," matt nods. "she's nice."

"she's everything, bro." chris shakes his head in awe, "but, uh, do you have any cash on you?" matt turns his head, eyes showing his annoyance. "i'll pay you back, you know that matt. just like $20 to get me in the poker game outside."

"chris-"

"please, matt," he begs.

matt lets a heavy sigh out through his nose as he rustles in his pocket for his wallet. "you're my favorite now," chris kisses matt's hand quickly before he's heading off with a crumpled twenty in hand.

matt's eyes follow him until he's fully gone, then he's turning to look for you again. only this time it's not a challenge at all, you're already on your way.

you pull at the bottom of your little black dress (which rode up some due to your eccentric dancing) as you approach. "hi, matttt," you sing. it's known to most of your friends that when you're drunk your emotions are ten times stronger, and right now you're feeling extra carefree.

matt can tell you've definitely had a few drinks, so he tries to keep the conversation civil. "hey," he cracks a smile.

"are you not having fun?" you ask. you've wondered ever since you recognized him across the room.

"sure, i'm having fun." he shrugs, keeping eye contact with you.

you notice his all black outfit and blue jean jacket, "we kinda match," you look down at yourself then towards him, "i had a jean jacket too...it's um, in a closet somewhere i think."

"then you must have great style," matt jokes.

"oh i think that was clear before i happened to match you," you joke making use of your hands while speaking.

"mhm, sure..."

"so, do you wanna dance with us?" you smile in question.

"absolutely not," matt laughs and brings a fist to his mouth.

your smile drops, "right, you watch us dance but laugh at the thought of participating...?" you move your eyes to each side, "'cause that makes sense, matthew."

"no, it's not like that. you go have fun, i'm just not one to make myself look stupid for fun." he shrugs.

"so we...look stupid?" you squint your eyes in amusement knowing matt is trying to be such a hard ass for no reason.

"you said it," he laughs.

now you're a bit annoyed. "so you go back to being a loser all alone right here in this corner, and i'll go back to this stupid party and enjoy myself."

"alright," he rolls his eyes, "go ahead and be dramatic about it."

"will do," you sigh and begin to walk over to your friends, presenting matt with the gift of your middle finger directed towards him behind your back.

and matt thinks he just might take chris' advice on having a drink or two.

౨ৎ

you hate that matt is still on your mind.

and it irritates the fuck out of you that you're now giddy seeing him for a third time tonight. but to give yourself the benefit of the doubt, you've gotten to the point where you're so buzzed you've become horny.

you came outside on the hunt for remi, who told you she was looking for erin, and ended up finding all three triplets at a makeshift poker table full of rowdy men.

and as some wise person must have said: when horny, find someone to fuck.

"y/n!! whatcha doin'?" nick notices you and gives you a wide grin offering you a chair near the table.

"hey, nick. 'm sorry i can't really stay i just, um, need to borrow matt."

matt. who isn't paying much attention to anything around him now that the four shots he took settled. with his phone in one hand and a beer resting in his other, he's bound to be startled when you come behind him and whisper in his ear, "heyyy, sorry to bother but can we talk?"

he blinks and looks behind him, "y/n?!"

"come," you motion with your fingers and begin to walk away as he rubs his fingers over his eyes and starts to stand up.

"yeah?" he asks getting closer to you.

you wordlessly bring him back into the heated house and navigate until you find a mostly empty hallway (all while he keeps annoying you by repeatedly asking what you want).

his back falls against the wall, "way to confuse the fuck outta me. what's good?" the hand you were once holding dives into his front pocket out of habit and the other continues to hold his beer.

"i just need you to take me home."

"y/n, i'm no longer driving myself home, let alone you," he shakes his head.

"right, i figured, smartass."

"glad those comprehension skills still work. grab your phone and order an uber, 'm sure you dont need my help."

"matt. i want you to come home with me." you sigh in defeat.

"oh shit." matt dead pans. "ohhh shit." his eyes widen before a a laugh breaks through his closed mouth, "sunshine...you're tryna' fuck?" he looks up at you from his spot against the wall.

you scramble a lie to make yourself look less pathetic, "you're a last resort trust me," you roll your eyes. this was way better in your drunken mind than reality.

"still made the list though!" matt jokes, "wow. who knew you were so romantic? bringing me all the way over here just to tell me you wanna fuck. and at your place? how sweet," he can't help but poke fun.

"fuck you," you say under your breath.

"well only because you asked so kindly!" he goes to wrap his arms around you before you push him back against the wall.

"are you done?"

"i guess." he shrugs.

"so will you or not," you try to keep your confidence and not allow matt's comments to embarrass you. "it's fine if not, just-"

"yeah," matt's smirk slowly grows. "meet me out front, i'll have to go lie to my brothers but i can be quick."

౨ৎ

"why am i shocked you're actually here?" you ask as you shut the car door and look over to matt, phone screen reflected on his face.

the car begins to speed out of the neighborhood as he turns off his phone and shoves it in his jacket pocket, "let's be serious for one second," he reaches over and pulls at the end of your dress, "you wear this and look like that and you think i'd say no? i'd be crazy. i mean, yeah, your fuckin' mouth can irritate me to pieces but-"

"actually just shut up, matt" you remove your head from leaning against the window and move across the middle seat to kiss him. you pull apart fairly quickly though, "how are you less mean yet extra annoying when drunk? i shoulda went with my last last resort." you shake your head.

matt grumbles before leaning to kiss you again.

౨ৎ

after a car ride full of teasing and rushed kisses, you both made it to your apartment complex.

you fumble with your purse as you search for your house keys, distracted by matt’s lips moving over your neck. you pinch your eyes shut in frustration, “mattt, give me a second,” you nudge your shoulder into him to get him off of you.

“let me see it,” he grumbles grabbing your purse and finding your keys with ease, moving his arms around you and unlocking the door.

“you make it look so easy,” you breathe and open the door with your body pressed against it.

matt lets go of you and follows you inside.

you lean a hand on the wall next to the door to quickly remove your heeled shoes and matt watches you with dopey eyes and glossy, excessively bitten lips before deciding to take his shoes off as well.

you walk closer to him once he’s done, your dress riding up your legs and barely covering your ass at this point. you look up to him and softly ask, “do you need anything to drink?”

he brings his right hand up to hold your face and moves close to your lips, “you know i don’t want a fucking drink.”

“you don’t?" your pout is genuine even though you're teasing him. he knows you're sweet enough to really get him a drink if he desired. he draws his thumb across your slumped lip before you speak again, "well…what do you want, matt?” you move your hands to the waist of his jeans, tracing the outer seam.

he pinches his eyes shut and moves his head to lean on your shoulder, he’s not gonna be the one to say he wants to fuck you. you want to fuck him, that's why he's here. so he’s definitely not begging you to touch him.

“hmm…?” you hum as your hands go to either side of his face, bringing him back to look at you. he looks into your eyes as he drops his hand from your jaw. you notice the pink splotches that still linger on his face, recovering from the heat of the party atmosphere and now the heat of this moment.

matt looks down at your lips, “you know what i want, and you want it too.” his hands travel down and push the front of your mini dress up as he feels over your underwear.

you mouth hangs open and you move your hips against him softly. begging him with your actions rather than your words. and those tend to speak the loudest.

"so what do you want, y/n?" he asks quietly without breaking eye contact.

"matt-" you breathe, wanting him to do anything more than a juvenile rub over your underwear.

he licks and sucks your neck as your hands capture his hair. “where do you want me?” he sounds out of breath when he asks so close to your ear. he finally moves his fingers past the waistband of your panties to nudge your clit as he taunts, “hmm…? you want me right here?”

you whine, “we can’t right here."

"why not?" he breathes against you, annoyed.

"i can't have you fuck me in the foyer i share with my best friend,” you just know andrea would be pissed if either of your body’s fluids made it onto the freshly vacuumed carpet.

he retracts his hand, “then why are we just standing around? show me to your room,” his voice is rough.

“why don’t you try to guess which is my room is mine?” you smile with your faces far too close together.

“why don’t you be a good host and give me a tour?” he retorts.

“that’s not fun,” you push.

he growls and lifts you up, walking past the living room and into a hallway that splits in two (all while you incessantly kiss his jaw and upper neck). he huffs at his ridiculous situation and reaches for the first door he sees. a toilet sits at the end of the room and a cluttered counter to the left.

“bathroom,” you mutter with a giggle.

matt responds with a snipped tone, “mhm yeah i’ve seen one before.”

his grip on your waist grows harsher as he opens and closes a multitude of doors with you commentating over.

he finally makes it to your room with you mocking him in a cheer of celebration as you climb off of him and turn on the dim light near your bedside.

matt would normally take in the room around him but his headspace is far too sexually frustrated to give a shit about how you decorate your room.

he opts to stand near the door and eye you from afar, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you.

you notice this (as well as the fact that matt hasn’t listened to a word you’ve said about minding the mess of clothes piled in the corner from your struggle to pick an outfit earlier) and slowly walk back towards him. the soft yellow light blurs behind you and highlights the edges of your figure in a mouthwateringly pretty way that makes matt antsy.

when you’re close enough matt somehow pulls you closer. his nose nudges against yours messily before capturing your mouth in a heated kiss. your hands feel for the end of his shirt and move underneath it to touch his warm lower stomach. you can feel how his body expands and curls as he breathes through your unwavering kiss.

despite wanting to keep the tension high, you break apart from matt to tease a bit, “can i touch you?” his face is scrunched absentmindedly from his desire and his lower lip finds its place tucked behind his front teeth when he rushes a nod to you in encouragement.

you push him away from you softly, “take your jacket off.” you move to your bed and after the sound of a jacket hitting the floor, you find him right on your feet, chasing your kiss and heat.

he leans over you and immediately finds your lips once more. now that he’s on top of you he finds himself wanting to get you to say how bad you want him.

his hands meet your thighs and move your dress as they run up to your rib cage before moving back down to squeeze your thighs.

matt’s surprised when you’re the one to involve your tongue in the mix, making the kiss sloppy yet intimate. your hand then crawls into his hair to keep him close.

but he doesn’t let you hold him for long, taking your hand from his hair and laying it against the bed, raising himself above you. “what do you want sweetheart?” he lowers his other hand towards your stomach, grazing your tattooed hip gently before feeling your underwear.

“you,” you respond in defeat and desperation.

“oh? and you want me to…?”

“matt. touch me,” you take your free hand and guide his own under the waistband of your underwear.

“but i thought you wanted to touch me? now you’re just bein’ selfish.” he keeps his hand close to your pussy, running his index finger across your lips kindly.

you look at him with droopy eyes, “please."

so matt lets you be selfish. he selfishly wants to taste you after all. he lowers himself to your face and captures your bottom lip once more, sucking then biting down slightly before moving his face further down your body slowly. your dress maintains its rippled shape in a bunch right where your tits lie.

he makes his way to your tattooed lower hip, still a little impressed with his execution of the cartoon (as it's not his typical style) and showing this with a kiss, then a light lick (making you shudder the tiniest bit). as he furthers, he finds the space on the bed is not enough, opting for the plush, carpeted floor.

matt sits on the back of his calves to watch how your body reacts when he pulls your panties down, only he misses the satisfied smile curling onto your face when you move your head to the the side.

he shifts your pliable legs to give him a better view of your heat's entirety, spreading your folds gently as he gathers spit in his mouth and spills it onto your clit. his eyes flicker from your face (choking on a moan) to the bead of saliva mixing with your natural slick that has him on edge. “that feel good?” he asks and moves his fingers up and down your pussy slowly, bumping your clit but not lingering long enough.

“yes...so good, matt,” you encourage in a broken whimper.

he hums, placing his mouth over your clit and sucking hard. you moan out lowly and you can't help but close your legs around matt's head. he normally would lay them flat again and tease you but he finds the pressure and dizziness turns him on so much more. his hands rest at your hips, moving up and down and your legs cradle his head as he works his mouth and tongue on you.

"mm fuck," you reach above your head to grip the soft colored comforter in your manicured hands. matt never falters, his licks only become needier when he adds two of his fingers to curl inside of you.

he continues his restless actions until the moment right before you have registered you were about to cum. then, he's immediately removing himself and standing up, wiping his face with one hand as the other hurries to unbuckle his chunky black belt.

you grumble and fix yourself to sit up and look at him, now discarding the belt into his own growing pile of clothes on your floor. he begins to unbutton his pants when he hears you whine and pull at his ego to get him to come back. “how fucking typical. should’ve known i'd barely get one orgasm, let alone two out if this.”

matt immediately stops unzipping his jeans and comes closer to stand above you, his face clearly annoyed. he gives your pussy a light slap, making you whimper. “keep talking shit, brat.” he grits through his teeth and slaps it again making a filthily wet sound that has you moaning.

he doesn't stop at that; he begins to harshly rub your clit back and forth without mercy, keeping eye contact as his face hovers your own, before moving his fingers inside of you while his thumb continues to work your clit. continuous loud moans crowd your room before you eventually meet your high with rolled eyes and shaking legs.

matt quickly pulls his fingers out and wipes them against your thigh leaving it sticky and shiny like golden honey. finally able to unzip and remove his jeans and boxers, allowing his needy cock to be free from the tightness. you move to the edge of your bed when you hear the small clap against his stomach, eager to find matt as ready for you as you are for him.

he watches from above as you admire his length while your fingers ghost over his sensitive dick. you then bring your mouth closer, dribbling spit over his tip and wrapping a fist around him. you look up into his hooded eyes for approval then take him in your mouth and jerk the rest of him with your hand.

he groans and bites his pink and undoubtedly swollen bottom lip as you suck and hollow your cheeks around him, even taking him all the way at some points. and though this feels fucking amazing, he wants nothing more than to be inside of you right now.

he holds the base of your neck then squeezes lightly to get you to pull away, spit erotically traveling with your lips. “can i fuck you now?” his voice is perfectly hushed yet demanding in tone.

you nod and matt wipes your lips, “good, take that dress off.” he removes his own shirt and reaches for a spare condom he’d put in his pocket before leaving the house (for no particular reason). he turns back to you, with your breasts now on display for him, ripping the package with his teeth.

you motion for him to give it to you and he complies. somehow even when you’re literally putting a condom over his dick, you’re a sweetheart about it: kissing it once he’s fully covered and turning yourself over onto all fours without him having to ask. because you understand yourself and have the confidence to choose the position you’d like to be fucked in. and matt would be lying if he said that isn't so fucking attractive.

he smirks as he adjusts himself on the bed, feeling out every inch of your full ass before moving his hands to squeeze your waist. you lay your head against the plush comforter, arching yourself further in anticipation. “matt,” you blubber out a whine.

he takes the base of his cock and guides it through your folds, “mhm…i know.” he sees your face twist in amusement, “oh, you like that, huh?”

you lick your lips and nod your head before matt finally pushes himself fully inside of you. his hips start in slow, rhythmic patterns before becoming uncontrolled and incomplete- and the same goes for your moans.

matt's almost hypnotized by the way your ass moves in reaction to his thrusts (slowing himself down just to watch in detail and only speeding up when you start to get really antsy over it).

as you both get sloppier and chase your highs, matt decides to flip you over and tuck your legs into your chest for a different angle. there's something especially needy in the way he rubs at your clit and makes a mess of your tits with his mouth that drives you insane with pleasure.

"my- shit!" you moan harshly under matt.

"hold it," he huffs.

"can't," you whimper, "just-"

"shhh," matt captures your lips as he quickens his pace, feeling his own climax approaching. after a few moments you're breaking the kiss to roll your head away, exposing your neck as you uncontrollably cum around matt.

"fuck," he moans, stilling his movements to maximize his release.

he takes a moment to breathe before removing himself from you, immediately fucking his fingers into you while rubbing your weak clit (just to be annoying) until you push him away and tell him to fuck off.

he lets out a chuckle as he removes the condom and discards it appropriately. when he comes back over to you you're on your side with your own arm wrapped around your waist in comfort.

matt sits next to you, "that good for you?"

you just nod and bite back a smile.

matt hums in pride, running a hand over your exposed ass before leaning down to kiss and suck a dark hickey into the skin.

"c'mere," you tug his hand.

he complies and you turn to open your legs for him once more, grinding a bit once the two of you begin to kiss again.

you reach between the two of you, taking matt's half-hard dick in your hand and stroking. as you pick up your pace he whines and begins to thrust into your hand in need.

until you hear your front door open. to which you push matt off of you and on to the floor, hearing him groan as you snap at him to get in your closet.

you crawl under your comforter while matt hurries to gather his things from your floor and get into your closet.

you hear andrea stumble a little making her way through the house and you catch your breath just as she knocks on your door and cracks it to check if you're sleeping.

"y/n, you awake?" she slurs a whisper.

"yes. hi drea, how'd you get home?"

she opens the door a little further but continues to lean on the door frame, "how did you get home? was lookin' all over like 'where's my girl?' everyone was usless though," she sighs.

"sorry, i took an uber," you giggle, "i got sleepy, i guess."

"mhm...you and me both." she yawns expectedly.

"you should get some sleep, we can talk in the morning, okay?" you smile from your bed.

andrea nods, "'kay, love you." she leaves with a sleepy smile.

"love you," you reply as she shuts the door again.

you let out a relieved breath, glad she hadn't suggested a sleepover like you'd both normally do when drunk.

matt walks out of your closet, almost fully clothed, buckling his belt again, "gave me fucking rug burn, thanks."

you move a hand over your face, "sorry- i just don't need anyone seeing you here."

"'s fine," he shrugs and takes a seat on your bed, "how long is it gonna take her to sleep so i can leave?"

"less than five minutes," you pick at one of your acrylic nails, seeing matt place his jacket on your bed makes you almost laugh to yourself, "shit, i left my jacket at erin's."

matt grins to himself and adds, "shit, i left my car at erin's," with a shake of his head.

you both laugh softly before it fizzles.

matt's back is towards you as he opens his phone to order another uber home. and now the silence brings you back into reality and suddenly you're feeling sick to your stomach about erin.

it takes you a little but you eventually mumble towards his back, "matt you didn’t fuck erin, right?"

"no," his voice sounds distracted and like he wouldn't care even if he did.

you focus on a loose thread in your comforter that you pick at, "...kay. not that it matters 'cause this was only for tonight. but i know i would probably die from guilt knowing i fucked with you after she did."

he turns to see you genuinely out of it and seeming to shelter yourself under your blanket. he leans towards you and rubs your arm softly before whispering, "don't make it a big fucking deal, nothing's different." his stare actually makes you feel far worse but you nod as if you agree anyway.

he stands up and puts his jacket on, “you sleep well okay, sunny?”

"shut the fuck up, you don't care about how i sleep," you whisper.

he breathes a laugh and reaches for your door.

꩜⋆ ˚｡⋆🎱˚

tag list (ily):

@rootbeerworshiper

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets fan fiction #matt sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x black!reader

[manicpixiefelix]

he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) // epilogue

{ head, heart, hand. masterpost }

Summary: Oliver is haunted by what he's done to get his happy ending in Felix's arms. His guilt is only made worse when he meets the first member of your family to actually remind him of you. Unfortunately, he does not find it to get better from there.

{ context; please read he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way) first }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons. YOU ARE ALREADY DEAD IN THIS ONE, but you do get to haunt the narrative. congratulations?

Warnings: discussions of death/overdose, lots of guilt, manipulative oliver, felix being upset, vaguely unhealthy oliver/felix, lotsa angst, oliver quick reckoning with the sunk-cost fallacy.

A/N: 6828 words. first, i don't usually do part 2s when i say something is a oneshot, so this is a rare occurrence. secondly im sorry this is almost 7k there's something wrong with my brain i think. thirdly bro, bro, listen to me; ANGST. HURT NO COMFORT. HURT NO COMFORT. it's soft in the middle THE SOFTNESS IS A LIE. ITS GONNA HURT ALL THE WAY DOWN (apart from nana i love her nd i hope you will too)

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

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One hour and fifty three minutes.

Rounded up, because all things considered, he should round it up, that's two hours.

Two hours. Like the blink of an eye in the scope of a whole life. But a very long time when you sit and count it out.

One hundred and twenty minutes. Seven thousand, two hundred seconds. He's always counting two hours, seeing exactly how long it feels like, how he can fill that amount of time. Seconds pass like a steady heartbeat.

He can do a lot in two hours.

Oliver tries to occupy himself nowadays more than ever, and really tries not to be alone, but it's hard. Farleigh left for Oxford. Venetia, before she decided to backpack across Europe and find herself, wouldn't let anyone touch her anymore.

Oliver doesn't like leaving Felix alone, but sometimes he has to be. You're laying cold in a family crypt somewhere next to a grandfather you never knew, and while Elspeth and Sir James don't comment on it, they both scowled when your parents sprung the announcement on everyone at the funeral.

Felix spends a lot of time alone at the edge of the maze. He's making a fairy garden where you had waited. Sometimes he'll drive into town without telling anyone, and come back with quaint, second-hand miniatures to add. It's beautiful, shining with greens and golds when the setting sun hits it just right.

So Oliver finds time to occupy himself, when he's alone and all he can think about is you sitting by the maze. You laying by the maze. You alive when he'd run from the maze. And the two hours that followed.

Sometimes he leans out of his window and shouts to the gardeners so far away they look like ants; even at this distance, his voice carries, and he sees them turn, search for him, ask if he's okay. He is, and he apologises, and he think about how far his voice carries.

On occasion, out of the blue, he'll lift Felix up when he hugs him, able to get his feet off the ground as Felix wriggles and clutches him out of surprise. Of course Felix lifts him with ease in return, spins him around, but that's not the point. Oliver is stronger than he looks; he wonders if he could lift you, could carry you far, if he could have dragged you if it had come to it.

Some nights he wakes up in a fright, your rapid heart rate beneath his fingers and he swears he could hear you whispering for help amid your shallow breathing. Please. Pleading. Begging. You were alive when he'd left you. He presses two finger to Felix's pulse point beside him, and tries to calm his breathing, to focus on Felix's slow, steady heartbeat.

And some days he sneaks into the computer room and curses how long webpages take to load when he looks up statistics on overdoses. Symptoms. Niche forums where he can learn what it felt like from survivors. People luckier than you. Their words, their stories, the recollections of those horrifying sensations stick with him, even as he diligently erases any trace of his browsing history.

And he thinks about how fucking long two hours is.

"Nan's coming over later," Felix tells Oliver idly one Sunday afternoon, "we're having tea of you'd like to join us." They're laying out in the grass, Oliver in the grass finding shapes in the clouds, Felix on his side, chewing on the stick of a lollypop he'd finished an hour ago and gently tracing abstract patterns on Oliver's chest.

"I thought you said your granny haunted Saltburn," when Oliver looks at Felix, he still can't help the way his heartrate picks up. Felix Catton touching him in the most gentle, caring way; he'd never stop feeling lucky for getting here, and never forget what he did to earn it.

Felix's gaze moves with his fingertips, up Oliver's warm, bare chest, twisting two fingers in the delicate chain around his throat. He looks pensive; but shakes his head after a beat.

"Different nan," he says distractedly, plastic straw trapped between his teeth. He tugs the chain experimentally, like he's forgotten it's attached to Oliver at all. He's in his head again; Felix is always in his head nowadays, but there's still often echoes of who he was, echoes of what Oliver has fallen for in the first place.

And he's finding himself falling more and more for this version of Felix too. So he tell himself that it was all worth it.

"Love," all these pet names - Love, Darling, Sweetheart - because if he slips up, tries to call him Fi, Oliver knows he'll only get ice in return, "is everything okay?" Oliver carefully reaches up to cover Felix's large, warm hand by his throat with his own. Felix meets his gaze, and gives a faint smile, an attempt to reassure him when he says he's fine. It doesn't work, but Oliver lets it go, and lets Felix tug him in by his chain for a kiss.

"Tea sounds lovely," Oliver murmurs against his lips.

There's something about this visit has Felix alive and buzzing the he way he hasn't in a very long time. Still he's quiet, but his eyes are bright as he follows behind the staff members setting up tea and biscuits in the garden. He goes through all the DVDs the family has and picks out a stack he thinks would be suitable, making sure they're all perfectly stacked by the DVD player. Oliver floats along behind him, and simply allows himself to admire Felix's energy.

Still, Felix finally takes a moment to breathe right as it becomes noon, and decides to have a bath to freshen up before his guest's arrival; two hours before she'd be here, Felix reminds him.

Two hours.

Oliver feels drawn to his own room. He doesn't allow himself to be alone in Saltburn often anymore, doesn't like the thoughts that crop up when he does. Perhaps it's a kind of punishment, a painful reminder, penance for what he's done.

There's a scrap of paper that he keeps tucked in a book in his nightstand, his own handwriting stuffed amongst a collection of Edgar Allan Poe's short stories, words he'd clung to and scribbled out the minute he'd gotten the chance so he'd never forget them exactly.

From the coroner's report, according to Duncan and Sir James. Time of Death; around 2am. Cause; narcotics overdose, and there were signs of alcohol poisoning.

On the back, he'd written '12:07'.

"Mum and dad both say it was a tragic accident," Felix's voice in the dead of night, the night they'd gotten the full report, riddled with guilt and unspilled tears, betrays his disbelief regarding the sentiment. Felix doesn't talk about how his last words to you were shouted with anger. Felix doesn't talk about how your last words to him were a desperate plea for him through tears. Felix doesn't think that it was an accident; only Oliver knows that he's almost right, just not in the way he thinks. Or dreads. But he has to bite his tongue on the truth, and let the man he loves live with this unjust guilt.

The water starts loudly draining for the tub, and Oliver isn't sure how long he's been sitting on the edge of his bed with his eyes squeezed so tightly shut, but he scrambles to stuff the page back into the book, and toss it back into it's drawer. He can smile again, and admire whatever outfit Felix chooses for the rest of the day, and pretend like he doesn't feel your rapid heartbeat or hear your shallow breathing every time he touches that paper, like he had the night he left you.

With the hour drawing ever closer to two, Felix keeps checking his watch. The minute he deems it to be time, he gives up all pretence of small talk - which had been another thing severely lacking as of late - and snatches Oliver's hand, pulling him through the house. They even outstripped Duncan and the footmen by the door when there comes a firm knock. Its the only time Oliver has ever seen any of the Cattons open the doors for themselves.

And it's not Felix's grandmother.

"Hi, nan," Felix sounds so genuinely happy as he hugs the older woman at the door with a warm smile and your eyes.

Oliver feels like he's frozen, like he's seeing a ghost. Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees Duncan actually standing aside, giving Felix and your grandmother a quietly fond smile.

"I swear you get taller every time I see you, oh, my lovely boy," she says with a warm laugh that sounds so damn familiar, "or maybe I've been shrinking, you get to my age and people tend to do that," and Felix laughs, actually fucking laughs. Oliver realises it's been a long time since he'd heard Felix give a proper laugh like that. As the hug ends, Felix let's her tuck her arm in his as she continues, "just you wait, one day you'll only be six-foot tall." Another laugh, and Oliver can see how genuine and broad he's smiling, how his eyes shine when their gazes meet. She's surprisingly sprightly for her age, it seems. Oliver recognises your grandmother from your funeral, but hadn't made the connection at the time, so he's surprised when Felix goes to introduce him and her eyes sparkle with recognised.

"Nan, I don't know if you've been properly introduced, but this is -"

"Your Darling, Oliver," and it's said with such warmth; her hug feels almost like home, "you strange, little thing," she laughs, "it's called a hug; are you not a hugger? I should have asked," but she doesn't apologise, nor does she let go for a few more beats. Oliver gives into this moment, closes his eyes tightly and hugs her back.

"Our Darling Oliver," Felix echoes with such admiration, and when Oliver opens his eyes, it's the first time since you'd passed where his gaze has held only the love and pride Oliver had been craving since he'd first laid eyes on him.

Once Nana - she'd insisted Oliver call her that too - lets him go, she tucks her arm in his, and is waving Felix over to her other side, briskly asking where tea was to be held. Duncan leads the way and she fawns over him too, apparently downright overflowing with love for Saltburn and everyone and everything in it. She talks more than she doesn't, but considering who Oliver is and who Felix has become, that suits them both just fine.

It's been too long since they've had tea together, she insists, and doesn't talk about why exactly that would be. She doesn't bring you up, not while you were all making your way through the house, but once she's settled outside, she takes a moment. The way she looks at Oliver in this moment makes him queasy; the smile, that look in her eyes, the way her gaze takes all of him in. A woman, whose time is so precious to her, taking her time to make him feel seen. Felix is quiet, intrigued by the exchange.

Your phantom heart beats beneath Oliver's fingertips.

"You're Y/N's grandma," Oliver says quietly, breaking the tension. Present tense still, they all play pretend. She smiles, and finally leans back. The moment is broken; Felix pours them each a cup of tea. Nana takes a jammy dodger and looks over the gardens with a smile.

"Of course, dear," she says sincerely, taking a bite of the biscuit, but being so eager to talk that she spoke through half a mouthful, "and when they were thirteen they told me I was Felix's grandmother too, because they'd overheard Felix's mum talking about how she hoped they'd get married some day." Felix snorted a laugh at that, turning pink around the ears as he prepared everyone's tea, as if on autopilot.

"Does that -" Oliver begins awkwardly, but he tries to smile, "do you think in time, they would have ask the same of you about me?"

"Considering how they spoke about you," there's a twinkle in your Nan's eyes as she turns back to him, smile knowing, "there's absolutely no doubt in my mind, my dear." All you had ever done was love him; love him and stand in the way of the love he desperately craved.

Oliver watches his tea for a long while, spinning the ornate cup on its matching saucer, while your Nana almost immediately picked hers up and took a tentative sip. Watching out of the corner of his eyes, Oliver notes the way her face goes on a journey of emotions, from pleased, to confused, to a sudden realisation as she looks to her cup.

"I should have asked you how you liked your tea," Felix realises too late, apology in his voice as Nana puts her cup down with a forlorn, yet fond look.

"No, darling, it's nice to know you know how my grandchild liked their tea," and she holds her cup delicately, looking into it's warm, brown depths, "just the same as I always made it for both of us when they were much, much younger."

"I am so sorry to ask," Oliver hears himself blurt out, unable to help himself, "but how does all this love just skip a generation?" It comes out far worse than he intends it to; he means to ask how someone so loving as you come from parents so uncaring, yet how did either of those parents turn out the way they did when the woman in front of him was clearly bursting with just as much love as you had been. Thankfully, instead of being offended, your grandmother laughs.

"My daughter is a wonderful, intelligent, compassionate, impressive woman," she begins, but sighs with unmistakable disappointment, "but my late husband was never capable of even trying to be a father over pursuing his own interests, and it's one of the few traits she actually inherited from him," she shook her head, "and she went on to fall in love with a man who loved her but suffered from that exact same defect," after a beat, she looked up with a warm, reassuring smile, "it's why I love Y/N so fiercely, and so hard," her grin turns soft and adoring, looking between the two boys before her, "the only way my daughter has ever disappointed me is as a mother, but I will never be disappointed in Y/N as my grandchild."

Oliver knows there's tears in his eyes, and Felix has ducked his head. Immediately Nan begins apologising, realising she'd set both of them off. Despite this, Oliver tries to wave her away, insisting it's fine, before he asks about her; he's heard bits and pieces he thinks, but Y/N had always been so cagey about their family. Honestly he's surprised that your grandmother knows so much about him when he feels like he's barely heard about her.

Despite turning out to be an incredibly decorated artist, with paintings selling for more than Oliver's pretty sure his own family's house is worth, your Nana is quick to downplay her own successes, simply insisting that it took decades of hard work. Again, he sees you in her eyes.

"We've got a few up around the house," Felix adds, "most of them actually from before we even met Y/N," and your Nana gives him a shove, as if flustered and embarrassed by the idea. But Felix is beaming, happy to be showing off her accomplishments, just as he always took joy in celebrating you; "there's one in your room."

"What?" Oliver asked, and your grandmother also seemed surprised, though touched by the thought.

"It used to be their room, actually, but Ollie moved in there, so Y/N was staying with me," he explains a little awkwardly, wanting to skim around as many implications as he could. Thankfully she doesn't comment. All she asks is which one. Felix and Oliver both think about the room; Felix about the few pieces of art on the walls, Oliver about your time of death in the drawer. You were alive when he left you -

"That one of the stars, and that person smoking; I think you actually gave it to them as a gift," he frowns for a beat, "for when they turned seventeen, I think?"

Oh, Oliver knows that one. It's enchanting, blues so deep, so rich it's like you could swim in them, stars that seemed to actually glow on the canvas, and the hazy, dark outline of the window in the foreground, and part of a figure against the windowsill, lit cigarette the lone spot of fire, of red or orange, that makes everything else warmer for it.

"That one really surprised me actually," Nana admits, giving Felix a shrew smile, though he only seems confused, "did they ever tell you anything about it?"

"Said you painted it for them; pretty sure I remember them crying about it," he says fondly, reminiscing, "one of the best gifts they ever got, I'm not lying, they say it every year. It's beautiful." Then, as if recalling what she'd actually said, he looks at her curiously, "surprised you?"

Her smile widened into something both knowing, and endeared.

"I asked them to send me a photo, a postcard, their very best drawing, anything, as long as it was their favourite place in the world - do you really not recognise it?" The tea and biscuits are gone by now, the tea portion of their afternoon is coming to a close. Felix shook his head, almost looking like a lost child, as if he was aware there was something he was supposed to be understanding but couldn't quite get it, "Felix, my dear boy, they sent me a photo of you; that's their dorm room window from boarding school."

Felix looks winded, and a bit like he's about to cry.

"Oh you two were impossibly sweet," she reaches over and holds his hand tightly, looking over to Oliver earnestly, "you take care of this dear boy and his heart, you hear me?"

"Yes," Oliver all but trips over his words to agree, "of course, nan." And she gives him a pleased grin.

They move indoors after this, Felix quiet but lending his arm to Nana, which she takes, while she explained that usually you and Felix would visit a few times a year when they were on break, but she thought it would be best to come to Saltburn this time, given the circumstances.

"You should come see the place when you get the chance," she insisted, patting Oliver's hand.

"It's mostly where Y/N was raised before they ended up staying at Saltburn," Felix supplied with a grin, piquing Oliver interest.

"Y/N's childhood home? Oh I have to see that," he grins, and your grandmother grins brightly for a long moment.

"I'm sure Y/N would love that, they can give you the grand tour -" but her face falters, falls, as if she'd just remembered. Sombre silence, the spell is broken. "I'd love to have you around, dear," she corrects, much softer this time.

Felix lets her pick a movie, while Oliver settles himself awkwardly on the sofa. He wants to reach out to Felix, to touch his cheek, feel his boyish smile and know that it's real. But Felix isn't really even looking at him. There's something childlike about his enthusiasm here, about how he sits on his knees on the floor, watching with rapt attention as your grandmother pores over them. He practically glows as she praises his choices. When she picks one, she hands it over and he scrambles on all fours across the short floor space to the DVD player, fumbling with the case like he can't put it in fast enough. There's a softness in your grandmother's eyes as she watches the boy who has seemingly forgotten the man he is; when she looks at Oliver, its like he sees her asking how easy is he to adore, what a beautiful young man.

"You don't mind watching a movie do you, Oliver, dear?" She asks, though it's clearly an afterthought. He's already shaking his head, assuring her it's fine. Felix is already scrambling back, remote in hand. Oliver tries to make space for him on the sofa between himself and your Nana, but he seems content to sit on the floor in front of her, leaning back against the sofa with her knees gently pressed against either of his shoulders. Handing her the remote, Felix twists to give Oliver an expectant smile.

"Come here, mate," he insists, patting his lap, his legs kicked out in front of him. At Oliver's obvious confusion, Felix blinks for a few moments. It's like he's waking from a dream. His face falls, he goes to apologise, strained smile on his face, "sorry, I know that's weird, you don't have to -"

Slowly, Oliver moves from the sofa, sitting beside Felix on the floor. Your grandmother's knee is pressed gently to his back, but he's not quite sure if he's capable of relaxing enough in this moment to mind. She's playing with Felix's hair, having already started the movie.

"This is what you and Y/N would do," Oliver said softly, and rested his head on Felix's shoulder. Felix takes his hand, and laces their fingers together.

"Do you like it when people play with your hair, Oliver?" Your grandmother asks idly.

"Um, sometimes," he answers, still feeling rather awkward. He hears her chuckle warmly.

"It's okay if you don't want me to; Felix likes it so much he lets me braid it when it's long like this."

"Oh, I know Felix loves it," Oliver hears himself agree, "if he were a cat he'd be the kind to purr any time someone scratched between his little cat ears." And while both he and your grandmother share a fond laugh, he can hear Felix's smile in his words. He gives Oliver's hand a squeeze.

"I can't even argue; I wish I could purr right now."

Oliver wants to bottle this moment forever, keep it locked tight in his chest.

But the movie is a long one. One hour and fifty six minutes. Two hours rounded up. A whole two hours. Enough time to fall asleep with his head in Felix's lap the way they both said you used to. He wakes with your heartbeat in his ears, rapid, alive, left for dead.

"You okay buddy?" Felix looks at him with genuine love and concern; it's been such a long time since he'd seen that look, even with everything that had been happening, "I'm here, you're okay," he assured. Over by the television, putting the remote back, your grandmother glances over at the interaction with a warmth that makes Oliver feel queasy in this moment.

And he'll look up from the book, from his notes from the coroner's report crammed in, obscuring the end of one story while The Tell-Tale Heart begins on the other. Felix will be getting ready for bed in the other room, but he won't sleep there. He can't sleep there. Can't sleep in that bed without you, can't move the costumes from that night that hang side by side as a reminder of the hole you'd left behind in his life. Oliver will read approximately two am in his own messy handwriting, and look at the digital clock on his bedside that had read 12:07 when he'd crashed into his room and locked the door and sunk down against it. The numbers had been shining red in the darkness. On the wall behind, that starry night sky and the hint of Felix and his cigarette; a home you'll never return to hung up in the home you'll never truly leave.

He put enough coke in that bottle to kill a fucking lion. He'd given you the bottle. He'd told you he loved you. He'd left you like that.

He knew you were dying.

He'd left you alive.

Two hours.

The book snaps shut. In the silence he thinks he hears your breathing. Please, Ollie, help. Paranoia is a cruel thing, he has to tell himself; paranoia and guilt.

"Can I ask you something?" Felix joins him just as he's putting the book back in it's drawer. Oliver, heart beat racing - never as fast as the memory of yours, oh now it's all he can think about again - nods quickly. Felix sits on the end of the bed, clearly preoccupied, fussing with the buttons of his pyjama shirt. The days are getting cooler now; Oliver misses his bare skin against his, but he still feels too precarious to make such an observation.

"It's about Y/N," Felix swallows, can't meet his eyes, "about that night." Oliver feels his mouth go dry; the worst fucking night of his life. The night he doesn't know if he'll ever figure out if he regrets all he'd done.

He nods again.

"Were you the last person they spoke to?" It's like Felix is forcing himself to not shy away from this moment, giving Oliver the attention he thinks he deserves for such an important question. Then, after swallowing hard, he can't help but drop his gaze, "why," he can barely get it out, there's already a lump in his throat, "didn't they come into the maze too?" Oliver can't even give him that.

You'd been such a mess on your way to the maze, even with Oliver supporting you. Crying, furious, apologetic; you were everything at once. Even when you couldn't bring yourself to go in, everything about you had been sliding from one emotion to the next. But then it had stopped.

"I can wait for Fi here." It's the most sure that he'd seen you all night. It's when he knew. It had to be you, even if he loved you too. He'd never forget how clear your smile was, how sincere you'd urged him into the maze to follow the tail of what he thought was right. The sight of you, waiting, obedient and loyal for your master to return; "I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."

Oliver knew before he'd even entered the maze that Felix's return to you would be too late.

In the present, Felix waits too, diligent, expectant. Oliver thinks about lying. Oliver thinks about how the truth will break his heart. Oliver thinks about how close Felix will hold him in his guilt riddled grief.

"I don't think they wanted to interrupt -" Oliver tries to start, but Felix immediately swears, hangs his head.

"Can't fucking believe I did that," he spits, "I was angry, and off my fucking face, sure, but that was fucking low, even for me," he admitted, pitching himself back on the bed, whole face scrunched up with guilt, barking out an upset fuck far louder than the others, prompting to Oliver to tentatively ask what he means. Felix took a moment, as if forcing himself to calm down, before he admits, voice low like he was sharing a secret, "I never even took Eddie into the maze," he sighed. After a beat, he conceded, "no, okay I did, but we didn't do anything - we made out a bit, but -"

"You didn't fuck you ex-boyfriend in the maze," Oliver connected the dots quickly, "but you did fuck your best friend's ex-not-girlfriend who you kind of stole from them, out of spite after kicking them out of your the bed you've been sharing all Summer?"

"Fucking hell, Ollie!" Felix sounds especially wounded when he lays it all out like that.

"Sorry," immediately, Oliver apologises, knot in his stomach when he hears Felix's pained tone. He wonders if this was what it was like for you all through the night of his birthday. Fuck, he can't think about that.

"No, but you're right," Felix admits, eyes finally opening, looking all hurt and vulnerable. Oliver lays himself down next to Felix, going the other way, both of them looking up at the ceiling. Oliver's hands rest on his chest, trying again, softer this time.

"So was a special place to them?" He gets no response other than a guilty nose from Felix, "you think that's why they wanted to wait by the entrance?"

"They wanted to wait for me," Felix says weakly, clearly in his head about that night once more, "didn't want to interrupt even as I was fucking defiling our-" but he catches himself turning bitter again, mouth snapping closed, "after everything I said that night," he mumbles, "fucking hell," he chokes out. The pain in his voice is audible. This is the sweet spot, Oliver thinks.

"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver whispers amid Felix's faint sobs.

"What?"

"You asked me what their last words were," Oliver told him as softly as he could manage; Felix sits up, eyes wide, distraught, so full of guilt and love and - "only thing they were properly coherent about; waiting for you," Oliver props himself up, reaches out to wipe a tear from Felix's cheek.

"You're not- Ollie, please tell me you're not kidding," Felix practically begs.

"I can wait for Fi here," Oliver reiterates, making sure to meet Felix's gaze as he holds his face, "'s the last thing they said- they said; I'll be here, I promise; I'll wait."

God he can see it in Felix's eyes; it's like the man's entire world crashes down around him. But he clings just as Oliver had hoped he would. As Felix holds him tightly, Oliver can't look at the glaring, red numbers of the clock on his bedside, the constant reminder of the two hours where he could have done something. Two hours and those wouldn't have been your last words.

He looks at the painting. At the stars. At Felix and his cigarette and your idea of what home looks like. The stars look just like they did that night. Just as bright. Oliver closes his eyes. Guilt twists people into shapes they don't often recognise; Oliver just holds Felix, hopes they twist into something together.

Except Oliver's guilt isn't the kind that twists, it's the kind that bites. It's like moths, eating him from the inside out. The guilt leaves him with jagged edges and thoughts he'd rather not be having; there are shades of Felix Catton that he loves, but shame and revulsion bites just behind the guilt as the months pass and he realises more and more this is not what he wanted. This is not the Felix he wanted.

Felix is like an echo, like the sun without it's warmth; he can look just the same, smile, talk, charm just the same if it was required of him, but there was something clearly missing from every interaction. Guests to Saltburn would pull his parents aside and ask if everything was alright. He is, but he is not the same as he once was.

Every day Oliver looks in the mirror and sees something grotesque behind his eyes that no-one else seems to notice. Felix Catton was meant to be the prize, the one who tossed aside everything but the best, the one who made the world fight for his attention, and feel heartbroken when he merely looked the other way. After all this, Felix Catton was not someone Oliver expected to be bored by.

Oliver Quick had lied for, lied to, betrayed the trust of, worked to gain the trust back of, loved, made fall in love with him, and literally murdered the love of his life who he also loved and was themselves also in love with Oliver while still considering Felix the love of their life, just to get a chance to spend his life by Felix fucking Catton's side. He wasn't allowed to not want this.

Felix smiles at him, says he loves him, fucks him, but it's not the dream Oliver once had. Something is always missing. No. Oliver deliberately took that thing away. But he can never admit that, nor can he ever regret that; too far gone. Oliver doesn't want to talk about the past, Felix can't being himself to talk about the future. Trapped together in the present, living lives that no longer feel like enough. Their routine becomes suffocating. Even Venetia, the few times she's stopped back at Saltburn, can barely manage a disdainful look, as if merely inconvenienced by Oliver's presence.

The growing apathy of the estate and it's occupants is exhausting. The cost of this lifestyle has long since surpassed it's value. He's even bored of being haunted. Two hours feels like fucking nothing when the days drag on the way they have been. Behind his eyelids he doesn't see you begging for help, you hiss for him to run, to get out.

He should have listened.

"Ollie, can I show you something I found?" Felix sounds bright today, and though Oliver wants to roll his eyes at the idea of anything in this house being new or novel enough to show off, he smiles back instead.

"'course Felix, what is it?"

Except Felix isn't smiling at him. Felix is looking far more serious and determined, sitting on the edge of their shared bed. Oliver immediately frowns.

"Have you been hiding something from me, Ollie?" It's a trap; a forced confession. Oliver shakes his head, plays dumb. Felix takes a deep breath, the kind that shifts his whole body, his expression remaining firm, "before I show you this thing, I want you to be honest with me; you promised you wouldn't lie to me anymore, you remember?" Oliver tries to lighten the mood, leaning against the window with a warm smile.

"Of course, my lovely Felix, no more lying," he assures, but the hairs on the back of his neck stand up with the way Felix remains quiet.

"What's seven-past-twelve mean?" Felix is watching him closely; too closely. Scrutinising his every move. It's like Oliver's been doused in ice water, even his tongue frozen in his mouth, "and what's it got to do with what happened on the night of your birthday?"

Felix doesn't even look at the night table as he opens it; his gaze is solely on Oliver. It's clear he'd done this before, pulling out the book, flicking through it's pages, and pulling the delicate, incriminating piece of paper out from where it had been safe for so many months.

"Felix, I-"

"What does twelve-oh-seven mean?"

Oliver is the deer again, trapped in Felix's accusatory gaze. For just a moment, Felix's voice drops, pleading with him for some other explanation, that Oliver wasn't somehow caught up in what happened, more closely, more malevolently than he'd ever said -

"Tell me," there's tears in his eyes, the furious kind, the ones where he's desperate to love and hope against all odds, "Oliver," he pleads through gritted teeth, "tell me you didn't know."

"Know what?" Oliver's voice is a hoarse whisper; he knows he is caught, all he has left now is borrowed time and a desperately silver tongue he doesn't know if he can rely on anymore. But Oliver's tragically weak denial is enough for Felix to all but jump to the right conclusion.

In a rush, Felix has Oliver by the collar of his shirt, pressed to the window -

"You knew they were dying and you fucking left them there."

This is the tipping point, the end of whatever good this had been. Felix could hurt him, Felix had hurt countless people on your behalf, he'd seen it himself. But Felix had always been the bleeding heart; you were the one who had to be kept on a leash. Felix could hurt him, could probably maim him for what Oliver was about to say, but he never shared your stomach for true Machiavellianism.

"Of course I knew," Oliver managed coldly, despite Felix attempting to crush all the air from him, "the amount of coke I gave them in that champagne could have killed a rhino-" it needed to be unforgiveable, the confession, so Felix would let him leave, would never want to see him again. He hadn't expected the force of Felix's rage to have the glass behind him give out.

Oliver falls from the second story window into the hedge garden below. Felix's shouting is tearing through the whole house it seemed, making his way downstairs, while Oliver tries to regain his breath and figure out if anything's broken. He's pretty sure it's not, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt as Felix drags him by his feet from the hedges, demanding at the top of his lungs that Oliver get the fuck out of Saltburn.

Every single person who'd been in the house comes outside to view the commotion, to see Oliver struggling to his feet, to get away from Oliver. Elspeth looks helplessly between the two boys, wondering what happened -

"Tell her what you did," Felix demanded, once more getting into Oliver's space, jabbing at his chest, "tell her what the fuck you just told me -" and Oliver's strength isn't insignificant, but Felix is in a fury, flooded with rage and adrenaline, and he grabs the back of Oliver's shirt like he's scuffing a cat, shoving him towards his mother like an offering. Oliver struggles because he feels like he has to, feels wild, feels feral, but it's the most of anything he's gotten from Felix in so long. His mouth stays shut, won't give him the satisfaction of a confession.

"He killed them," Felix doesn't even let Oliver have his power play before he grows bored. He shoves Oliver just a little, grip unyielding despite Oliver's best efforts, like he means nothing to him. Elspeth and Sir James are confused, looking between them both, but Felix isn't done with stringing Oliver up for all of Saltburn to see, "Y/N; he intentionally dosed their drink and left them to die outside the maze."

The Catton parents immediately look crestfallen; it's the first time in months Oliver's felt genuine guilt again. Oliver stops fighting. Felix lets him go. Elspeth asks him if this is true; that heartbroken hope is going to make him sick.

"Just send me away already," he drops his head.

"Oliver," Elspeth's voice is firmer this time; when he looks up, she's stepping towards him, tears in her eyes despite how hard she's clearly trying to hold herself together, "is Felix telling the truth?" Is this it? Is this the final gate to his freedom from Saltburn.

"Yes."

Elspeth slaps him so hard her ring draws blood. Oliver hadn't thought that was even possible, but his head is ringing from the collision.

"Get. Out." She hisses with absolute malice as he's hunched over, clutching his face. Felix is by his mother's side in a heartbeat, arm around her, looking at Oliver with contempt. Behind them, Sir James is ordering Duncan and the other staff members to get Oliver off of the property as quickly as possible, but the look in Elspeth's eyes is burning, "this is my family, you monster."

At first, it almost feels worth it to leave Saltburn. To leave the Cattons and their bullshit and their games behind. He thinks he knows them well enough to trust that they don't want the kind of scandal a murder on their hands would be, and for the most part, he's right.

It's not the Cattons who haunt him after Saltburn, though they may be pulling the strings. It's you. It's you sitting on Felix's bed in his dorm room reading every single detail of Michael Gavey's file with threats on your tongue. It's the casual way you talked about being able to access his academic files to change his grades if he wanted. It's you, tipsy at Saltburn, admitting that you got Eddie transferred without his consent to a university on the other side of the country after he cheated on Felix with Venetia.

There's no place for Oliver to return to at Oxford... He's not entirely surprised about that, however, there's also apparently no record of him ever attending. Any calls or enquiries he makes are shut down with the kind of immediacy that seemed reserved for shows about government conspiracies. When applications open for other universities, it seems websites shut down the minute he fills out his damn name. Nowhere in the world seems willing to consider him.

Having him audited seems like overkill. When it happens the next year, despite no employer willing to even consider him for an interview, the existential dread of his situation sets in.

Felix never had the stomach to finish the job; he'd let you haunt Oliver forever.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick imagine #head heart hand fic #manic writer

[lakesbian]

here's every way wildbow accidentally made pre-meiosis "russel" thorburn transgender that i can remember. if you can think of any reasons i forgot please add on

his parents named his younger sister "ivy," as if the obvious grandmother-pandering name "rose" had already been used up. blake theorizes that they used a male version of "rose" for PMT, but this is nonsensical--there is no male form of the name rose, and everything he comes up with as a possible option (in other words, everything wildbow came up with as a possible option) is a major stretch. most don't sound even tangentially like the name "rose." it makes far more sense to assume that PMT was afab and had the deadname rose. (this also makes sense on a thematic level wrt how rose thorburn jr is supposed to be the Real heir that grandmother is forcing blake to die for, but that's getting besides the point)

rose has memories of being harassed over the inheritance by her female cousins, and the idea of these memories just being wholly pulled out of thin air when basically everything else involves memories either being split btwn blake and rose or erased altogether is weird

blake is friends with, like. a lot of gay people. textually runs in poor gay artist circles. the idea of them adopting this weirdly cool cis straight guy is funny but it makes a lot more sense if PMT was trans + gay and only got turned into a straight guy (and a straight girl) yesterday, due to the homophobia demon

PMT literally thinks "Besides, why devote any more attention to your son, when you could just start over?  Have that beautiful baby girl you wanted, right?" which is also like one of the only pieces of internal narration we get from PMT in the entire story. first girl they named rose ran away and did some shit with their gender so now they have a second girl they can't name rose but can still try to raise to go for the inheritance

in the same chapter as when pmt says that, callan is like ohhh you think youre going to worm your way in-, implied sentence ending being "-to the inheritance," which is, like. the family knows it's going To A Girl. so.

PMT was childhood friends with paige, who is The Gay Cousin. it is deeply sensible to imagine them bonding over this, regardless of whether or not PMT (or even paige) knew at the time

it is, like, fully possible for a cishet dude to get sick of living with his shitty toxic abusive family and abscond at the age of 17, but also homelessness is an extremely prevalent issue among transgender kids in abusive families. the narrative of a transmasc kid growing up in an abusive, catholic extended family where girls are pressured to compete for a very gendered inheritance + leaving at the age of 17 & finding a new home among a bunch of gay artists is Significantly more compelling than the cis dude alternative. it just is.

okay i think im running out of, like, logical errors that make sense only if pmt was trans prior to the Obliteration, so as for the thematic stuff. like i said, rose being the half grammy decided was supposed to be "real" and blake being the half that's supposed 2 die for her 2 exist, rose just being unhappy and disconnected by nature of existence while blake is the parts of pmt that escaped from the constraints of the family + found happiness, so on and so forth. "catholic grandmother literally obliterated her transmasc nonbinary grandchild by splitting them into two binary gendered halves & expecting that the man they could've been die to allow the acceptable woman--literally forced to dress in grandmother's clothes--live on and do as grandmother wished" is Everything, doing the same thing but to a cis man grandchild is significantly less compelling

Others who r very old/operating on what are explicitly stated to be oppressive and antiquated gender roles as per the book's themes about inherited/traditional forms of harm keep mistakenly calling blake she/her and rose lmao

??? probably some other thangs im forgetting

#pact time #pact textpost

[demaparbat-hp]

Hello. I wanted to say that I really like your art style, especially how you do Katara's face. That's awesome.

But every time I read the description of your AUs, it gives me the creeps. You once said you try to stay true to Katara's character, but... your AUs are like "what if I take one of her major character traits and throw it in a trash bin?".

Halfblood AU: no connection to her culture that basically defies everything Katara thinks and feels about her waterbending.

Helping the Fire Nation AU: no hope for the avatar that Katara expressed in the intro of every episode of the original show.

And lowkey less kindness. She's cautious and bitter and wants to help only Zuko.

She seems like a completely different character. Not Katara at all.

Zuko too. I doubt he'll be in the White Lotus, it's not in his character at all. He may use the help of the members, but the original ("The Desert") tells us he will not be one of them, it's just not his style.

You make zutara look shallow, like you think that Zuko and Katara as they are in the show would never work together. As a person who sees appeal in this ship I feel very uneasy seeing your interpretations.

And my god, why do you hate Hakoda so much? Every time you add anything to halfbloodAU he looks more and more disgusting. I cannot believe mister "you and your brother are my entire world" would do what you are saying. And a married man with a child cannot be so naive to think that a woman won't become pregnant after having sex with him. Hakoda would've returned and checked and tried to help.

Sorry. I wish I could enjoy your art, but you're making it so hard.

Hello, and thank you for writing. I'm glad that you enjoy my art, at least to some extent, and I'm sorry if I ever made you uncomfortable with my AUs. However, I find myself in the need of defending them.

Creating AUs is something I take seriously, and one of the core traits of an AU is that it's, inherently, a different world. I can change virtually anything, and that's okay. Haven't we all read a fic and thought, this character wouldn't react like this in canon, but went along with it anyway? Because we know this isn't supposed to be canon. These characters are living in a different context, and react to things differently.

Canon exists for a reason. An AU does, too. They're different concepts and must be treated accordingly. It's a matter of context.

But we're talking about characters, aren't we?

You've pointed out that I've changed Zuko and Hakoda, too. And you're right. I've found that people online are more... defensive of Katara when compared to other characters. And while that may not be important to this specific discussion, I do find it rather curious. It's something to think about.

Anyways, I change characters. And I've gotta confess, I'm not ashamed of it.

My Katara is still Katara, and my Zuko is still Zuko. I'm just playing with how I believe they would react in different scenarios, and with different backgrounds (that's important, too).

You mentioned that my AUs are like "what if I take one of [Katara's] major character traits and throw it in a trash bin?". And I'm sorry that they give you the creeps, truly.

But maybe I want to explore how being a product of two different cultures affects not only Katara, but also Zuko as characters. Halfblood gives me the opportunity to address these sociocultural issues through their personal experiences, and I find that kind of narrative awfully compelling.

And maybe I wanted to change one core trait of Katara's personality and see how that affected both her journey and the general plot. Hunters is a writing experiment, and it has taught me a lot about human nature. Thanks to what you so kindly call "throwing a character trait in a trash bin", I've gained a lot more respect for who Katara is in canon. If anything, I consider Hunters!Katara as a foil for Canon!Katara.

And I don't hate Hakoda. I have a lot of respect for him as a leader and a father. I think he's a great character and role model for others within the ATLA universe. Bashing characters for fun isn't really my thing. The choices I made for Hakoda in the HalfBlood AU (and Aang in Hunters) are a matter of narrative and plot building, not my opinion on his character.

Just think about how different that AU would be if Hakoda made better choices, if he didn't have a wife and a son waiting for him at the South, or if Katara's father was a random Earth Kingdom villager. About 60% of the conflict in the story would disappear. And I could build that conflict with other stuff, I admit it. I could use different plot points or make the characters do other things or give Katara One Big Happy Family.

But it would change the core themes of the story I want to tell.

It's important to me that Katara is a product of two different cultures. It's important that she has no father figure in her life. It's important that Hakoda, who is a great leader and a great man and a great husband and a great father for Sokka, made a huge mistake in his youth that has been weighting on him ever since. It's important that Sokka is suddenly faced with the realization that his father, his idolized role model, is human and has also royally fucked up.

I want to talk about these things.

But I'm able to recognize that they're heavy subjects and, really, most of us are just here for the fluff anyway. So I'm sorry if I've made anyone uncomfortable. I won't hold it against you if you don't like what I do or just ignore whatever lore I set up for my AUs.

This is fiction, this is freedom, and this is the way I express myself. We all do it differently, and that's part of the beauty.

#dema answers #zutara #atla #hunters au #halfblood au #zutara au #avatar the last airbender

[gwynsdefenseattorney]

Let’s talk about THAT bonus chapter and Azriel’s behavior. I see so many people taking this out of context to try and fit a narrative and honestly it’s a little worrisome to the point where I’m like are yall okay?

Before I get into it let me make one thing ABSOLUTELY CLEAR cause some of yall took some leaps and bounds last time that had me laughing. Some of those tags were 😆. I care not who you ship. I myself even kinda shipped e/riel back in the day but I was never fully on board cause they never made sense to me but I was confident SJM would make me believe when it came time for that book. Clearly I’m no longer on that ship but it’s okay if yall are. And if by chance she does still go that route I’m, again, confident Sarah will have me loving it (Even though I will grumble the whole time, lol) What I don’t like, and what drives me crazy is the twisting of Sarah’s words. Printed, interview or otherwise and I see a lot of it. That’s what irritates me. So ship away who ever you want but don’t twist and take shit out of context please for the love of God. 😆

First off I love Azriel. He’s my favorite bat boy and I will defend him with my life but that bonus chapter behavior was not it. I wanted to smack some god damn common sense into him.

Secondly, he was the classic fuckboy in that bonus chapter with Elain. The fact that some e\riels are out here romanticizing that behavior seriously is worrisome, like are yall okay?

Only talking about wanting to get his dick wet is not romantic. “But but he would get on his knees for her”

He’d get on his knees for her to get his head in between her legs, how the fuck does that equal romance? The whole time he’s thinking about her it’s to get her under him in his bed. Fuck👏🏻boy👏🏻energy. He couldn’t even admit to himself that wanted anything past that, he didn’t even feel bad that he hadn’t. Again fuck👏🏻boy👏🏻 energy.

This is not romantic in any definition of the word in my opinion. Sarah had the absolute perfect opportunity to add on to that sentence if e/riel was the direction she was going to go. Like 9 more words is all it would have taken “ but he could see it, that life with her.” But she did not take that opportunity.

And just for an added bonus because someone sent me this lovely exchange the other day. I’m not even sure how the hell she reached this conclusion.

Gwyn wasn’t trying to shake his hand after they won the Blood Rite Qualifier. Like where the hell did you get that from girlie? My girl was wanting her prize and a handshake from Azriel was not it. This is what happens when you want to deny the importance of a character so much that you ignore them in the book and get things so very wrong. And make no mistake she is important but a discussion for another time.

#azriel #gwynriel #pro gwynriel #anti e/riel #azriel shadowsinger #gwyn x azriel #gwyneth berdara

[writingwithhana]

HOW TO BREAK YOUR READER: EP 1

✩°｡⋆⸜ 🎧✮ EPISODE 1: HOW TO BREAK YOUR READER BY A FIGHT

TAGS: @chocobeese @reyna-obsessed (if you want to be added, plz dm me or send an ask. if you want to be removed, dm me or send an ask.)

*taps mic* Hello, writer friends! Thanks for being here today <33 welcome to the first episode of HOW TO BREAK A READER. Today, we will be exploring how to evoke emotions from the reader, by having a fight between two characters.

I have decided to effectively break it down into these pointers–

1-> BUILDING UP TENSION TO THE FIGHT

Before we give the shock, we want to give them the fear. when two characters the readers extremely love, and also ship very much (it could be a platonic ship as well) start to have small little bickers. if your ship is an enemy to lovers, your reader wouldn’t suspect much, so you have to show how upset it makes your character. 

you want them to avoid each other, reducing screen time of the characters together that if the reader doesn’t pick up on it, let some of the side characters to. show how your character replays the small bickers a lot, to show the affects. and if your novel is a romance novel, its a good time to start your side story while your character avoids the love interest, or show them bumping into each other and ignoring each other.

2-> THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THOSE 2 CHARACTERS.

Having a fight between your characters has to be unusual, taking the reader aback. Having two characters who already hate each other fight may give some emotional satisfaction or the signal for the readers to kick back and eat popcorn, but we’re looking for tears. 

The best thing to do is to go ahead and give a fight between two people who usually get along. and ‘get along’ can’t be just mutuals, it should be two people who have a deep and happy relationship, and also extremely close. bonus points if one of them is the person who is the most optimistic of the bunch. 

fights should be unusual, now we have the shock factor. The shock has started, and the tears will follow.

3-> THE EVENTS OF THE FIGHT

Here comes the big break. the fight. Now this is where you have to make everyone crack into pieces. there has to be tears, and each one of the characters shouting about their feelings. if it’s a physical fight, add some emotional narrative such as:

Bob slammed his knife into Josh’s stomach, plunging through the flesh. This wretched creature–always thinking he’s the best–

You have to make sure the reader sees both sides of the story by the characters yelling, and maybe some child or innocent character tries to break the fight up. if the characters ignore the child, let them continue, with occasional interferences. There has to be someone holding someone back, and some people cheering on the fight. There has to be tears in their eyes. You have to show the cracks in their voices.

The best way to end is one character just leaving, and the other still angry, and too emotionally charged to care. that’s it, your fight’s over (its a cliche way though) or, both of them scream about something close to the character, and it makes one character freeze. That they just give up about the fight. such as:

“I wish I never met you!” Alessia screams into the void. Silence. Only the heavy breaths of Nathan echoing through the air. Nathan freezes, and like a movie, he starts replaying again. Alessia’s breath catches as his fury morphs into sadness.

“Okay.” And he leaves the room.

“We’re done!” Alessia calls, anger filling her blood once again. How can he just–turn her back on her? This is all his fault–

There is no response, just the nasal sniffles from Gianna.

( a weak example, but I don't do romance 🤡 )

4-> CONSEQUENCES OF THE FIGHT

it’s over. you have cracked your reader, but now you want them to cry. you don’t want them to talk for days, the side characters giving dirty looks, and the character crying because they messed up. you want regret and remorse.

it will hurt the reader more if the pair had some plans ahead and one character goes and waits for them in the venue, but the other never comes. and then perhaps another fight for that. That is the confrontation. All of this is optional, of course. there are two paths:

A. THE CHARACTERS NEVER TALK AGAIN.

Easy. Make them ignore each other, and the book ends, with remorse and regret, it never gets past the finish line. You can make this part of the personal growth of the character, developing a bit more.

B. THE CHARACTERS MAKE UP.

This. for this, I suggest a confrontation of the two characters once again, or one character begging the other to just talk to them, or one character getting hurt and–

There are many options and choices you can make. But overall, this should give some distress to your readers, as well as some sadness. Maybe even some tears.

That's it for today. Thank you for joining us on this episode. See you in the next one!

#how to break your reader #episode 1 #write with hana #writing help #writing advice #writing community #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #writerscommunity

[lacyscabinet]

mean!dom!lottienat x bratty reader with aftercare, you can choose the plot!!

A/N: dear anon, this is definitely not what you asked for im sorry, don't come at me, or at least not ONLY at me because in fact, this is a collab with @lottienatswife:) go follow her lolllll, craziest collab ever. We are not smut writers and this is personally my first smut ever lol, we just decided to have fun with it!!!

Also this is pretty long :)

THIS IS SATIRE (maybe)

hope you'll enjoy either way :) (Marina if you see this go away this is not for you, this post is Marina DNI)

TW: smut, lots weird stuff, quirky seggs, tentacles are mentioned, dildo attacks girl's face, toys and ropes :)

Night at Lottie's

“Where are you parents again? On a business trip” Nat asked from Lottie’s bed, Wannabe by the Spice Girls played in the bedroom, Natalie didn’t exactly enjoy that but whatever made her princess happy.

“They are at a funeral actually” Lottie answered from her spot in a rocking chair near the bed, lately she has been getting into reading, the current book she’s reading? Poems of Sappho, she told you and Nat multiple times that she would’ve loved to join a book club, if only those were real…

Nat frowned but before she could say anything Lottie continued “Uncle Joe passed away last night”.

After her affirmation Nat moved from the bed and got closer to Lottie, placing a hand on her knee “I’m so sorry Lottie…was it a peaceful death at least?”

“He was actually eaten alive by a dolphin-” Lottie couldn’t even finish her sentence, suddenly interrupted by the door slamming open, you were running for no apparent reason, maybe the writers just need a narrative expedient to make you end up sprawled on the bed…or maybe not…who knows? I definitely don’t.

Either way, Nat’s backpack, which was conventionally thrown on the floor, made you trip and not so gracefully fall on the bed, face planted in the mattress, bum in the air, emitting a little groan.

“Eager aren’t you?” Nat exclaims and without missing a bit she gets closer to you and just like you landed on the bed her hand lands on your ass, giving it a smack.

Lottie gasps still sitting comfortably on her chair, looking intensively at your interaction with Natalie “Little sapphics” she whispers with a hint of amusement.

“Hey!” you yell at the contact of Nat’s palm with your skin, but Nat doesn’t really seem to care since she has her hands already placed on your hips, flipping you around and manhandling you until your back was against the headboard, her body straddling yours and keeping your hands in hers. And even though you felt like a barbie being tossed around by a three year old kid you actually didn’t mind at all, and while you and Nat were clearly having the time of your life Lottie opened a package of organic rice cakes and munched on it while watching attentively “It’s just like national geographic” she mumbled to herself while chewing.

Nat leaned in for a kiss and who were you to comply after all, and as the smooching got more and more heated your bodies grew sweatier and sweatier, especially your hands, making Nat falter, causing your foreheads to collide in a painful crash.

“STOP STOP STOP!!!! CUT OFF THE CAMERAS CHAD! NATALIE, Y/N ARE YOU GUYS OKAY?”

“NO!”

“OH DAMN, MHHH, 20 MINUTE BREAK EVERYONE!”

*some time later*

As Natalie straddled you, with her hands on the wooden headboard this time, Lottie, finally may I add, got up from the rocking chair placing her rice cakes on in and walking to the bed sitting down on it next to Nat who was already aiming at your shirt pulling it off with ease, revealing your bra. Natalie shifts over to look for something in the drawer, rummaging through it and pulling out a quite peculiar object out of it.

“Is it a unicorn horn?” Lottie wonders as soon as she looks at it

“I’m pretty sure it’s a dildo Lottie” you said, still laying under Natalie, your affirmation made Lottie’s eyes squint “Then why is it rainbow?”

“I don’t know maybe it’s gay” you shrugged as Natalie kissed your neck not really caring about whatever conversation was going on between the two of you, raging hormones they say.

Slowly realising the destination of the gay allegated sparkly rainbow toy Lottie’s eyes widened  "NAT! NO.... IT'S NOT BIG ENOUGH!!" Lottie yanks it out of Nat's hand, and gets out her purple- "it's not purple its heliotrope, damn I’ve told this to the production so many times and nobody listens"... heliotrope dildo... it was bigger than the rainbow one “It kinda reminds me of an octopus” you said as you looked down at the thing “Did you know that one of the tentacles of an octopus is actually it’s dick?”

“Not now Lottie please” Nat brushed her off as she started undoing your pants, pulling them off she smirked at the sight of your undies...Peppa Pig printed underwear was really something...Natalie bit her lip she took off her own pants, as did Lottie. Nat was wearing her super special underwear, pink Hello kitty underwear, Lottie on the other end showed off her spiderman (writers care to specify it’s PS game spiderman) panties.

"So…my little gold digger…” 

“Lottie, leave the dirty talk to me please-”

“SHUT UP...can I tie you up??" You look at Lottie... and shake your head, you already knew what was going to happen, she did it all the time, and you needed money for that one dinosaur pillow. As expected Lottie groaned and pulled out  her wallet which was conventionally already on the bed "I'll pay you"

 "deal..!" You happily take the money shoving it inside Nat’s bra “Keep it safe baby” you gave her breasts a pat pat “Since when are my knockers a piggy bank” she mumbled but neither you or Lottie paid too much attention to that.

Lottie had already taken out the purple…no wait…heliotrope ropes she kept stored in a small box and tied your wrists up to the bedpost. So now that you’re stuck like a worm on a hook Nat and Lottie exchange a knowing look, as Natalie adjusts a harness to her hips

“Kinda looks like a bricklayer's belt”

“Shut up” 

Then she immediately pulls off your panties and once they are discarded she lays her chin on the mattress to see your core "....mmph…" Nat hums in satisfaction once she sees the faucet was left running “While Lottie’s parents cry at the funeral I make this pussy cry” 

“HEY UNCLE JOE WAS-” “DON’T THINK ABOUT UNCLE JOE RIGHT NOW LOTTIE” 

Suddenly Lottie shoves Nat away, taking her turn to stare at you. Determined, Nat pushed Lottie down the bed, gracefully slapping her face with the glittery gay dildo, and just like that, after she regained her spot on top of you, the object found its home…once again.

After a couple of small thrusts Natalie really started going at it and you started moaning, in that exact moment, jealousy creeped inside Lottie and once again Nat was shoved away, this time ruthlessly shoved down the bed and onto the floor. Taking Nat’s out of you so she could insert the heliotrope toy. Your faucet kept running, until it broke and Lottie cheered, she broke it first.. and Natalie groaned still on the floor, annoyed.

Lottie carefully unties your wrists, placing little kisses on the small bruises the ropes caused.  "You want shoulder rubs?" Lottie asked, while pulling you on her chest to let you rest your back against her breasts "What about pussy rubs?" Nat smirked.

Before you could answer, Lottie shoved a rice cake in your mouth as Nat just groaned, unbuckling her harness and throwing it aside. 

Lottie pampered you with little kisses on the top of your head while she rubbed both your shoulders and neck, slowly, Nat crawled back on the bed, giving a kiss to both you and Lottie, hugging the two of you and laying her head on your shoulder.

*later that night*

“Y/N? Are you still awake?”

“Yeah”

 "I never got to fiddle with your riddle”

“Technically you-”

“LOTTIE ROBBED THE GLORY!!!" 

If you've reached the end, here's your throphy 🏆

#natalie scatorccio #yellowjackets #natalie scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio #yellowjackets x reader #nat scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets x you #nat scatorccio x #natalie scatorccio x y/n #lottienat #lottie matthews #lottie mathews x reader #lottienat x reader

[butchjess]

Well. hrm. the way they all connect to each other. like it’s all starting to look like a circle of some sort. jess as rory’s mirror/reflection/narrative foil but also jess as he pertains to luke and jess as he pertains to lorelai. luke breaking the church bells luke who says he was troubled but they gave him a chance and just bc a kid has issues doesnt mean they don’t deserve that. luke who is a figure placed against the rest of the town, just in the sense that he is not like them, he does not hold their values, he doesn’t even sound like them. which is of course a result of scott patterson’s new york accent, but adds to this theme anyway. and they use jess to build this picture, because they walk the same and talk the same and they’re stubborn—independent to a near self-endangering degree—and emotionally repressed in the same way and luke himself admits that he spent more time working at his dad’s shop than he did at school, which jess also does. but jess and luke are also. very very different when you get past these similar values that are maybe ingrained into them through different circumstances and same genetic makeup. and in their differences you get a lot of jess and lorelai’s similarities. when it comes to their family dynamics and how it’s affected them in particular. it’s made them independent yes, but it’s also made them hypervigilant, almost paranoid in the way they are allergic to accepting help and especially accepting help from the people who hurt them. jess only goes to his mother’s wedding because luke asks him to, lorelai only asks her parents for money because rory needs it for school. and they, and this is where they differ from luke, don’t know how to trust people and so they don’t know how to talk to people. where luke’s particular brand of emotional constipation comes from a general cluelessness as to how to do it—which is why the tapes helped him so much—lorelai and jess’ come from emotional responses to the situations they grew up in. while it was different—lorelai growing up rich, jess growing up poor—the effect it had on them still resulted in something similar. lorelai with her overbearing manipulative mother and (emotionally) absent father, and jess with his neglecting manipulative mother and (in all senses of the word) absent father. the ways that, despite their effort to distance themselves, they still end up with similar mannerisms to the parent they have the most conflict with (lorelai and her controlling nature + that scene where they have the same nighttime routine, jess and his love for books + tendency to run away). and of course, their romanticism. their big confessions and period drama-esque speeches and, yeah, i do think in a way jess was asking rory to marry him in 4x21. come with me. let’s get married. luke and rory both being the most important people in their lives. literati+javajunkie where they are all melding into each other, and luke is rory and lorelai is jess but on the surface level dynamic luke is jess and lorelai is rory and they are all each other. on accident. by sheer nature of making jess as a character for the sole purpose of interfering with luke and lorelai’s relationship (which means he is important narratively to them both) and by making him rory’s love interest/foil (because ASP casted him before she even had the idea for the character) you have now made an accidental blending of them all together. he is like a skeleton key of a character. Okay. okay.

#clocking in for my shift at the pattern recognition factory #literati #javajunkie #gilmore girls #i was also going to talk about how rory is ALSO a skeleton key of a character similar to how jess is because. #well all the lines about how she is ‘just like her mother’ wrt stubbornness and defiancy and iron will. but it was already. very long. so. #i’ll save it for another post. #and in that post i’ll probably talk about rory and jess and their dads and luke also. bc that is also missing from this post. #sorry they are so mucu. #so much. #literatijavajunkie is the sun that this show revolves around. #also ties into how jess literally is the only side character that is also a Main Character. in this show. #like compared to rorys other boyfriends where their only importance is to rorys character. jess is like. essential to the narrative. #which is why he’s the one that almost got a spin-off show. he has the functions of a main character the exact same way rory does. #which is why the show would have been about him and HIS dad. literally a direct mirror to the concept of a show about a daughter and a mom. #whatever this is all going to be. in another post. #there are more screenshots to be gathered anyway. #ggwatch #gg meta

[scintillyyy]

okay i am going to say something potentially controversial about sb94 now that i'm partway through and say that i think a lot of the big problems with it are exacerbated by the fact that karl kesel and ron marz had two different narratives they wanted to explore/tell regarding kon.

kesel very much wanted to explore the exploitation of the child star--and everyone around kon is exploiting him. rex is exploiting him for money and tana is exploiting him for her job. and i agree, kesel didn't go near hard enough in condemning the tana & kon relationship, but there are definitely nuggets there that the people around them knew it was shady and that the writers knew tana was wrong for pursuing it (you get her coworkers gossiping about her at the water cooler, her boss removing her from superboy stories because of conflict of interest, she's got a nasty look on her face while beefing with 16 year old girls, there's a decent amount of references to kon being underage the weekend before they get together she spends the whole weekend nagging and complaining about him before finally deciding to aggressively go for it when he's at his absolute lowest....i'm just saying that none of that comes across as particularly aspirational to most 16 year old boys lmao.). there's an expectation that as a working star, kon is expected to be an adult and have adult maturity despite being a child still. and nobody is protecting him because they probably don't see him as a human, let alone a child by the nature of his fame. who would be there to intervene and help anyway? everyone is exploiting him, they have something to gain from keeping him under their thumb, they're not there to protect him. some names you should consider while reading this part of the run are drew barrymore and brooke shields. in more recent memory, jennette mccurdy is another excellent one to consider. so when you ask why nobody is interventing and condemning characters like tana and knockout, it's the same reason nobody batted an eye at drew's mother giving her cocaine at 9. or brooke shields being in pretty baby. even today people get outraged at some 30 year old actor dating a 17 year old, but nobody ever actually intervenes in those situations to protect the child in question and the 30 year old is almost never punished socially or professionally for their skeezy behavior.

and immediately after the knockout storyline, you pivot over to ron marz. and marz very much preferred to explore the peter pan, never going to grow up, what is the humanity of a clone angle versus the child star angle. marz is the one who froze kon at 16 because he wanted to explore the peter pan angle of the boy who is not human and can't grow up and talk about the ramifications of cloning and humanness, makes the love triangle with tana and roxy really stupid and forefront to the narrative without ever touching on the exploitation angle of any of it, gets rid of rex and his exploitation of kon, and increases kon's immaturity as just a perverted teenage boy who is now the aggressor in the relationship vs the exploitee, and so you get almost this incongruence and inability to resolve the exploitation in any satisfactory way because the story has changed. kesel wanted to tell the story of a child star who was forced to grow up and mature too fast and marz the story of a boy who can't grow up at all. idk. and those narratives don't have to be diametrically opposed and, in fact, could work together interestingly for kon, but the way they're written really only serve to exacerbate the overall flaws and problems of the other.

add that to the fact that the themes they were going for weren't necessarily written well and were very, very 90s in their nature and you end up kind of being able to see how exactly that book ended up so problematic in so many ways.

#now i am only partially through my read i reserve the right to change my mind #but this is just my 2 cents so far

[wakeupthemembersofbylernation]

A maladaptive daydreaming endgame would be the most boring, dry, anticlimactic, and nonsensical endgame possible. There’s no arc. There’s no stakes. There’s nothing to look forward to. There’s no pizzaz. There’s no mystery. They have no goals. They aren’t building towards anything. Plus, there’s a giant, unanswered, blue and yellow coded, bowlcut-shaped elephant standing in the middle of their storyline.

Like, push aside the minutiae of the shipping war for a second. Push aside the debate over Mike’s sexuality. Macy's Day Parade staying together and finally being a happy couple in Season 5 is a genuinely absurd concept because they have no momentum. And that in and of itself is so incriminating. Yes, on a surface level (boy protagonist makes grand confession love monologue to girl protagonist, wooo, romance go brr) level, I suppose one could think they do. But they do not. Where are they going, narratively? What do Mike and El like doing together for fun? Brodie made a whole monologue and that answer is still a giant question mark. What are their shared hopes for the future?

They have none. Even without being in the same state, it’s clear why Duzie is into each other. Lumax, Jancy, Jopper, and Rockie all are building towards something. Even a hypothetical STANCY revival has more of a raison d’être. Love them or hate them, they do fall into tropes of rekindling old sparks, and Steve’s pitch was rooted in how much he’s changed and what his hopes are for his future- which he sees Nancy in (even if Nancy’s future goals don’t actually align). And for El, it’s clear that saving Max is her priority. So even Elmax has more momentum than Mlvn.

For Migration Pattern, it’s like Mike finally did the thing, finally said ILY, finally confessed his apparently undying love for his superpowered girlfriend (in the penultimate season, I might add, which is never a good sign), only for there to be crickets. It’s like okay… and now what?

No one knows. It doesn’t feel right. Mike finally did everything El asked of him, finally (allegedly) explained why he couldn’t say it before, and it’s narratively unsatisfying in every possible way. Not only this, but this is not your imagination playing tricks on you. These aren’t Byler shipping goggles. The show goes out of its way to emphasize that Mike and El aren’t on speaking terms, which is an odd choice for a couple entering their endgame era. And everyone has lost. Nothing is in a good place. It’s all a mess. Max is in a coma. It’s a nightmare. Yeah, it’s not looking good for Minotaur Endgame.

“But you don’t get it, Bitcoin! They're saving her response to Mike’s monologue for Season 5. They do have something to look forward to. You just don’t like it.” Okay… and what do they expect her response to be? “Oh Mike, my darling loverboy, I love you so. l'm glad you see me as a superhero. And I’m so glad you fell in love with me in the woods. I love you too. Let’s make out and eat eggo waffles forever.” And then what?

They also expect Mike to just start saying I Love You a lot more often? They expect them to finally be on the same page and have meaningful heart-to-hearts? They expect him to suddenly show interest in what she likes instead of gritting his teeth and acting awkward?

They expect Mlvn to glide off into the sunset as if any of their structural problems have been resolved? Despite the fact that Will’s thinly veiled love confession/ the painting lie was the whole catalyst for the monologue in the first place? That just doesn’t make sense? Like, objectively.

But know who does have momentum? Miwi. Byler arguably has the strongest momentum going into Season 5 of any couple or would-be couple. They have romantic momentum, friendship momentum, individual character arc momentum, and narrative momentum. The cinematography makes that crystal-clear.

#byler #mike wheeler #will byers #el hopper #stranger things #Byler endgame

[heretherebedork]

The worst is Dohan wasn't just afraid of coming out, he had a very realistic fear of being outed by his evil sister which is a million times more violent and traumatizing than deciding on his own to come out. And Dohan's fear of being out is 100% justified by the narrative, yet somehow the writers still treated it like a character flaw. He started the show being sent pictures basically threatening to out him, he is from a very homophobic society/country, he has siblings who hate him and Jihan and want to ruin their lives, his Grandfather has been trying to marry him off for years, we find out the Grandfather wanted him to stay in the closet, and he was suddenly forced into the public view without much warning and really without his consent at the beginning of the show because his Grandfather decided Dohan needed to take over the company. Dohan had literally every piece of control stripped away from him throughout the entire show. He was consistently threatened and pressured and he knows he's at risk. OF COURSE he tried desperately to hold on to the marriage plans?? And again Jihan doesn't take a single second to think about how Dohan must feel or what he's going through. No, instead Jihan and the writers try to convince us that having a secret, even if that secret could put you in actual danger, is the most selfish thing you can do.

And on another note, I think you've discussed this before but the people saying Jihan and Ahjeong had no reason to suspect they would be followed on all their public romancing must've been watching another show than I was. It was literally established that both Ahjeong and Jihan knew reporters were looking for Ahjeong, they even found her house!!! If I remember right Jihan knows Dohan was being followed because Dohan mentioned pictures of him in New York. Jihan literally sent a photographer after Dohan in the first episode. Ahjeong got recognized by a famous actress who hates her when her and Jihan were together. They were later chased by a reporter and had to go on a whole car chase! AND Jihan knows his siblings are angry schemers. And yet neither of these people stopped for one second to think that there's some possibility they could be followed or recognized? That the siblings would send someone? That the actress could spread rumors? And somehow people think I should go "well their faces haven't been plastered on the 9 o'clock news yet so obviously they won't think this could happen!" ??? They even kept having public meet ups AFTER knowing they were photographed!!! The writing on this show is genuinely just bad. There's really no other way to put it. I've seen more coherent writing and characterization in BLs that got about $15 and a dream to make them. What a let down.

Yeah.

The fact that the show starts with someone threatening to out Do Han seems to be mostly forgotten by the narrative and completely ignored by the narrative in terms of emotional connections and emotional reasons for narrative choices.

Because the show had no idea what to do.

I really want to be clear that this show was not good.

Yeah, Ah Jeong and Ji Han made like no sense. Ah Jeong was stalked by reporters, Ji Han had hired reporters before and knew his half-siblings were looking for ways to take Do Han out of the inheritance line up so like... it's nonsense to think that they had no reason to believe they might be followed. None! Of course they were followed.

Ugh.

It's over!

Let's start daydreaming about a Thai remake.

This remake will add in a romance for Do Han, make Ah Jeong a better friend and focus on their friendship and her understanding of why Do Han doesn't want to come out, give Ji Han an actual redemption arc including a lot more sympathy for Do Han not wanting to come out and for the fake relationship and just generally be much more friendly to the whole storyline and make us very happy.

Let me dream, okay?!

#wedding impossible #asked and answered

[c-is-for-circinate]

I would love to hear more mike wheeler - Steve Harrington masculinity thoughts (also whatever happened to Hopper to make him action guy my beloathed)! Also will we get a mike chapter for and they were married?

Okay yes! I am fascinated by Mike and Steve as narrative contrasts, and I always find myself looking for fic where the two of them meaningfully interact, and I keep meaning to write about them.

(Also: Mike deserves his own chapter of that fic, but he's getting folded into Dustin's. What Mike really deserves is his own fic that takes place in that universe, because I know what his deal is there and it's a doozy, but that is a very different post.)

Anyway! For starters, I don't think that Steve and Mike are intentionally meant to be foils. There's an element of it in the first season, where Steve exists to support Nancy's character, and Nancy and Mike are meant to be foils -- Steve is the Popular Kid, the antithesis of Mike and his friends' little group of nerds, he and Tommy and Carol are written into the same category as Troy but older and less actively murderous, and the fact that Nancy's dating him says things about her -- but they end up occupying oddly similar spaces and cool parallels come out of that anyway.

A core thing about it is that Steve and Mike are both the guy in their respective age group casts on the show. The Guy. The central one, the normal one, the presumed-to-be-straight one -- and yes, this is fandom and we have Opinions about that, but the Duffer brothers think they're both straight, and that matters here. They're white, they're able-bodied, they have money. They are, in a sense, normal.

Narratively, they very often act as central/POV character for scenes they're in, at least once Steve gets past the fistfight in S1 and awakens to the fact that he's a person who can make decisions. And that makes sense, because being The Guy also means they're the closest to the classic TV protagonist archetype, the guy who does the hero shit and gets the girl in the end. Hopper is also The Guy, and always has been: in S1 it's just him and Joyce, but even as we add more adults, the only real challenge to his The Guy status is Bob (which is of course why Bob had to die). Murray is a bizarre conspiracy nut, and queer-coded besides that. Owens is an affable bad guy. Alexei and Dmitri and Yuri are all Russian.

Being The Guy comes with a certain amount of baggage. All three of them have to be romantic leads, and have to be crossed in love about it. All three of them are protectors in one way or another. And all three of them are on occasion assholes who have one hell of a time with sincerity and affection.

And this is where we get into Toxic Masculinity, because again, while I don't think the Duffers intended a pile of parallels between these three guys, well. Firstly, The Guy as an archetype is built on a pile of toxic masculine stereotypes, so that's often there to begin with. Secondly, it's the same writers, so certain themes rhyme whether they're intended to or not.

In particular, one of the core tenets of toxic masculinity, not just in ST but as a thing in the world, is when and where it's acceptable to experience soft emotions of affection, care, and vulnerability. The first rule of toxic masculinity is don't. The second rule, the caveat rule, is a little asterisk saying 'except, occasionally, with a female romantic partner, if you absolutely must.'

And so we actually see a lot of unfolding of this in Steve! One thing we know about Steve, without precisely being told, is that he's deeply lonely -- for a popular kid he sure seems to only have two Actual Friends when the show starts and they hardly seem to even like each other. He has a new Favorite Person every season, and he clings to them with the joy of a devoted golden retriever. His mental image of happily-ever-after is a house full of kids with enough siblings to never get lonely, family vacations about close quarters and spending time together. We never see his parents. For all a lot of the 'horrible abuse' fanon is very much fanon, Steve is inarguably a lonely kid. And where do we see him reaching out for affection?

It's not Tommy and Carol, although until they break up he's constantly in their company unless he's alone with Nancy. They hardly even seem to like each other very much, and yet they've stayed at his empty house enough for Tommy to know about his mother's fireplace and Steve to insist he do laundry while he's here. No, the person who Steve is allowed to feel things with and for is Nancy, because she's the caveat, she's the exception. This is why Steve is consistently focused on getting Nancy back, getting a new girlfriend, getting a date. That's the rule!!!

The really fabulous thing about Steve's arc across the first three seasons, and even into S4, is that this quest for romantic affection and vulnerability is both thwarted and rewarded again and again. He tries to apologize to Nancy, to win her back: by the time he sees her again, Nancy's got a new boyfriend, but Steve has a new brother. Dustin is Steve's favorite person by the start of S3; he gets Steve's haircare secrets, he gets Steve's loyalty, he gets Steve's joy. In S3, Steve tries to pour his whole heart into a different girlfriend, and Robin turns him down flat while also simultaneously opening herself up with such vulnerability that they instantly become best friends. Robin is S4's Favorite Person, but the great thing about these relationships being platonic is that Steve gets to have more than one! He gets to have both Dustin and Robin in his life! He gets the other kids as part of the package! Bit by bit, instead of a girlfriend who Steve is "allowed" to be soft with, Steve gains actual friends who he gets to be real with whether it's allowed or not.

And the really tragic thing about Mike Wheeler is that he's doing the opposite. Mike starts out with three friends, three best friends, absolutely devoted to one another. As kids, they're young enough to be free of most of the stranglehold of toxic masculinity yet, although of course it's starting. And then there's El.

Mike charts a really interesting course over four seasons, and the shape of it is not a straight trajectory from 'Mike adores and is BFF with Will' to 'Mike thinks only about El.' Hell, from what we see of S1, the Party are all best friends pretty equally before Will goes missing -- Lucas is the one ready to break into a government lab for him, not Mike. Mike's trajectory is far more 'I derive the bulk of my personal self-worth from protecting other people, and as soon as somebody needs to be saved I go fully into Paladin Mode, making me feel worthwhile and important." It just so happens that the two people in Mike's field of vision who most generally need protection and saving are Will and El. Which leads to Mike's intense Will-focused devotion in S2 (El is gone but Will is also in really significant need, and Mike just straight-up activates, jumping immediately into solicitously taking care of his friend because Something Needs Doing And I Can Do It). And Mike's intense El-focused devotion in S4, where El needs a literal quest to come and rescue her. And just a lot of Mike in general.

The problem with all of that is the part where, unlike Steve who keeps forging new platonic relationships, Mike keeps neglecting his more and more. The S3 Will fight is so good at illustrating that, because look -- we all know Will has a crush on Mike, but at no point during that fight does Will ask, even subtextually, for romantic attention. He's asking for platonic attention, which Mike is absolutely failing to give. "Where's Dustin right now? You don't know, and you don't even care." But as Mike says, they're not kids any more -- and this is how growing up is supposed to work!

(Note: I don't want to say that it's toxic for Mike to be in love with El, or really caught up in that relationship -- he's fourteen! she's his first girlfriend! he thought she was dead! But Mike's an asshole in S3 because he's caught up enough to not notice his friend's feelings until they explode at him, and yeah, I do think part of that is because he knows he's Not Supposed To.)

S4 is a lot, because here's where we're really seeing the culmination of a lot of what Mike's been unfortunately moving towards. We've hit a point where those vulnerable feelings that Mike's allowed to share, at most, with his girlfriend, feel like too much to even share with his girlfriend. He can't say 'I love you'. He can't even talk to Will. The conversation he does have with Will is honestly mostly about Mike and his feelings of inadequacy, of not measuring up, not being special, but it has to be couched in the context of El. If there's a reverse-Bechdel test to be done on S4, past the very first episode I'm pretty sure Mike fails it -- I don't think he has a single conversation that isn't about his girlfriend in one capacity or another.

In contrast, S4 Steve is, yes, pretty focused on girls-in-general and Nancy-in-specific, and yeah, there's a little bit of backsliding going on there. But he's also having conversations with Robin about her fears and longings, having weird little interludes where Eddie's the one bringing up Nancy rather than Steve himself. He's hurt at the end when Nancy is clearly still with Jonathan, but he's able to move on, to go fold clothes and care about Robin's love life instead of his own -- his optimistic happy ending in S4 is that his best friend is going to get the girl, not him.

I think there's a lot more to say, which I only brushed on briefly here, about other aspects of Mike and Steve that work in parallel or contrast -- their protector thing, which feels very intrinsic but shows up very differently in both of them, the way Steve says 'I love you' so easily and Mike has trouble saying it at all, the way they are both very much extremely normal guys, at least on paper. There's so much to say. I think that has to be a different post.

I will say, in terms of Hopper: Jim Hopper is what it looks like when those pent-up feelings that you aren't allowed to express to anybody other than a romantic partner sit and fester for decades. Fuck, there were things about Vietnam he didn't even tell his wife, that sat like poison both emotional and biological between them. When we meet him in S1, he's processing grief with drugs and drinking and processing fear with rage. He has spent so much of the past four seasons processing fear as rage.

Of course Joyce is the one person he's allowed to, sometimes, on occasion, be soft with. Of course nearly his every interaction with Mike is macho dominance posturing. Of course the entire trajectory of his relationship with El is a push-pull of Hopper retreating into authoritarianism and anger instead of the terror of honesty, and then getting to see the consequences of that when his daughter pulls away. Every season has broken him down a little more that way, but then the yo-yo pulls back (Season 3 whyyyyyyyyy). By Season 4, he's been beaten and starved and frozen and shattered enough that we get maybe the most honest monologue of his life, to a Russian prison guard, because they're about to die so what do the rules matter any more. It's a clear window into an endless pit of self-loathing, because for twenty or thirty years Hopper's been letting those feelings eat in instead of out, and bit by bit they've been devouring him.

El is hope, for him, and Joyce is hope, and the cracks that broke open in Kamchatka to maybe let in a little more air that might not seal right back up again are hope. But it's hard. It's hard! It makes him an absolute asshole, including and especially towards the people he wants most to protect. (And there's that protector thing again.)

Anyway, I am on the record as liking Steve a lot and having very little patience for Mike and Hopper, but like. They're not that different, at their core. They just put the pieces together in a different order.

#stranger things #driveby meta attack #asked and answered #shit this is really making me want to write those D&D class breakdowns I keep promising #maybe I'll get to one or two of those this weekend #mike wheeler #steve harrington #jim hopper #at least a bit

[fastcardotmp3]

even if they were never going to let hopper stay dead after season three because the don't know how to Do That, I still think it's bonkers that they chose to tease him being alive in the post-credits sequence LIKE.

his death felt impactful when I watched it the first time when it was released. it felt like a really big deal and a great set-up for questioning well fuck what are they going to do without him next season? what will happen to El? How will Joyce cope? what will the police force look like without someone in the know in charge?

and yeah, those questions still get answered in season 4, but during that (extra long) hiatus between the two seasons, we didn't even get to relish in ASKING because three minutes after the show ends it's just a letdown of hard-won emotion like. oh. oh he's still alive so no matter what changes it's just gonna... maybe not matter? lasting impact TBD?

there's just. like okay if he HAS to come back from the dead lets think about a slightly different way to do it, yeah? for shits and giggles?

(I am just having fun I am just playing what-ifs please do not take this too seriously fjsdklf)

step one: let the audience actually grieve that character.

let them believe he's dead or at least be very uncertain about his ability to get back up from that particular fight. let them mull on a ST universe without him because that's part of the joy of ongoing TV right?? that we get space to think about what might happen next? let them MOURN.

step two: don't send him to russia.

why are we sending him to RUSSIA when we have access to the opportunity for trapping him in the very dimension his daughter both single handedly opened and closed. why are we sending him to RUSSIA when the upside down was brought into contact with Hawkins by his kid, this girl who he has to find determination to stay alive for, who he has to find pieces of in this rotting place because if she had even some small hand in touching it then there must be something good here right?

(this also has the added bonus of opening up Joyce and Murray for having a more narratively impactful arc too. Like as if they both haven't gone down the government conspiracy rabbit hole in the wake of losing their friend? as if they wouldn't take an opportunity to investigate their OWN government and military if there's some sense that Owens is still hiding something from them?? let Joyce be contradictory in the face of having lost so much; let her outwardly look for a safe place to raise her kids and actively chase down danger because she doesn't know how NOT to at the same time)

(anyways ahem)

step three: don't bring him back in episode one.

maybe not even episode 2 or 3 either. maybe let us watch characters want him or need him or miss him in the aftermath of his loss in a mirror of what the audience feels in the wake of his death too.

step four: bring him back in a moment of high stress or action.

bring him back when Steve's got a bat's tail around his throat and his friends are wailing on monsters with rowboat oars because it's all they've GOT. bring him back-- equally changed, looking hardened and rough on the outside but with this flash of shining hope in his eyes when he realizes-- if they got here, then they can help him get home.

step five: give him the chance to be Different Now.

He's single-minded and single-missioned-- get back to El-- and that has the potential to get in the way of a lot. just because he's in hawkins this time around doesn't mean he's going to be all that helpful when the kids have a different first priority than he does. don't worry, they can still lose this time around, especially when you add the conflict of not knowing how much help Hopper is going to be when he's running exclusively on adrenaline and love for his kid.

step six: the reunion.

there is so much satisfaction to Hopper and El reuniting I love that scene in canon, but imagine how much better it could feel if, instead of his season 4 arc being about getting out of russia it could be about coming home to El.

they've both, in their separation, come to understand each other better this way too-- El because she better understands the grief that has run Hopper's life since Sara died and Hopper because he has become so familiar with the world and the creatures that have haunted El for so many years.

let there be symmetry to their reunion. let Hopper realize he wasn't there when she needed him, let El realize that she left Hawkins when he was there the whole time.

let them both be changed and have to get to know each other all over again.

let them be willing to do it.

bonus alternate tragic ending if you're into that:

there is no reunion because he dies in place of Eddie and El has to face the realization that he's been alive for 10 months only for him to die as soon as they find him and before she even gets to see him okay BYE

#dot post #hopper #think about this All The Time it was eventually gonna become a post who are we kidding afjkdsljf #i love playing posthumous script doctor i love dissecting media i care about

[generalluxun]

Miraculous: The Movie Reaction/Review

A little more ordering of my thoughts now, and I can go through in a little more detail why I loved this movie so much. This will be a solid look at things, and so... yeah, SPOILERS! And just for the record this will be looking both at the movie itself as a movie AND in comparison to the series. I know that there are different pressures on both, but I do feel there are narrative through lines tackled better or worse.

Putting a cut here for the Spoiler free folks.

This will be somewhat chronological, with some asides.

Okay, so the opening, a great setup. It's a Lore dump, but it's clean and neat and we are already introduced to the vibrant colors we will see throughout the movie, and Mr. Overdramatic Fu who I find priceless.

Marinette:

Oh Marinette, I love this Marinette. She feels downtrodden to start. The type of person for whom one too many hiccups have become a self-fullfiling way of life. The movie spends a lot more time with her on this. Which is to the benefit because her choice and ascension are much bigger payoffs. She's still a dreamer, and energetic, She's our Marinette, but vitalized.

Okay I'll put this here: The Songs. They're fine. They're not great, but they're find. they have a stage-style vibe to them which fits in with the change to Emilie's career. They are also pushing the narrative through most of the time, so even if the song isn't to your liking, you've got a lot going on.

School&Chloé: Marinette seems a lot more jumpy/unpopular in general, it's not JUST Chloé which is a good shift. Don't get me wrong, the blonde is still clearly a nightmare, but it's not she alone among the student body that thinks something's off about Mari at the beginning.

Alya&Nino: What is there to say? She's Alya, she's great. Nino and Adrien friendship! yay! And Alya&Nino are a cute secondary couple-in-the-making. The movie loved it's secondary characters.

Adrien: Sad Adrien, but gentle. Marinette's first interaction with him was great. She's Marinetting, but she actually gets up the will to talk to him. I liked this balance. Yes some of it comes from a shorter runtime, but it comes across as just... healthier?

Gabemoth: Gabriel outside! GASP! He's a human being! Clearly still flawed, but this Gabe is one I buy the ending for, and I quite enjoy it. Both Gabe and Adrien being over the top theaterical fits having Emilie in their lives. and.. OMG we got to see and hear Emilie as a person! I loved this. I'll add in Nathalie here. She didn't have a lot but we get her care for Adrien and the family right away.

Rescue Fu Alleyway and Tikki: Saving Fu felt much more earned in this one, give a bonus to whoever storyboarded this. Marinette pulling him from in front of a bus then bodily putting herself between him and the danger of another oncoming car? This girl! Go Marinette, you've earned these earirngs(want them or not) also: Her reaction to this crazed little man screaming about death and end of the world was awesome, I LOVE them lamp shading this trope.

Little aside about Sabrina She's adorable in the whole movie, but we get a hint of her own independence when she covers for Marinette in the Alleyway, and I loved that. Tiny Character building moments are a sign of great writing.

Tikki: They amped up Tikki's energy and I can see why. Marinette's more reluctant heroine role needed someone with a bit more push to keep her going. This is honestly the most I've ever enjoyed Tikki (not that TV Tikki was awful)

Cathedral: So, We meet Cat Noir here, and he's a cocky goofball, and it works. They balance it well. He gets instant karma a few times, he tries hard, and he does quickly acknowledge Ladybug later on when *she* acknowledges herself. This is an important lesson, people do treat you better when you believe in yourself, it shows. Much like I said with Gabe, Adrien being an overdramatic theater kid fits perfectly in this story.

The back and forth between these two is great. And here's something else: It's instructive for Marinette. If Cat Noir was just a fawning lovesick boy from square one, she wouldn't learn to stand up for herself, which she later uses vs Chloé. People fuss at chat for the watermelon, but Ladybug's throwing her own zingers in there too.

I do like that we bring Fu back here, and then again at the end. He's a little more sane, a little more mentor, so his use as comic relief isn't one note. That's another sign of good writing.

Marinette's refusal: I liked this a lot. It felt right for Marinette. This was dangerous, scary, and she was barely managing for a lot of the fight at the cathedral. I love how the scene evolved from loud and frustrated, to comedy, then finally settled on sincerity. Marinette curling up in her chair was more earned emotion and heartbreak than S5 wrung from me in 13 eps.

Plagg and Adrien: Okay so yeah, Fart jokes. The show had it's share of 'stinky cheese' jokes so we shouldn't point too many fingers. I love dad-Plagg in the TV show, so I was slightly bummed it wasn't as prevelent here, but with Tiki needing a more energetic role, Adrien not being a shut in, and Gabriel not being a complete and total heel, Plagg's role is going to be different. It's worth noting that after Chat's failed confession Plagg does Dad-Plagg him, so all is not lost for that dynamic.

Fairground: Just a showcase of fun. Marinette&Adrien, Alya&Nino, the Akumas, Marinette making the *decision* to be a hero and triggering her first voluntary transformation. The two of them working together. This was a great celebratory event, and it kicks off:

Montage!

You knew they'd need this in a movie covering this much ground. We got to see a few fun akuma designs, a few Adrienette dates, and how the changes wrought on the fairground played out. We had enough time with sad, isolated, Marinette that this does feel like a triumph.

Third Act low point: This is where everyone fails. Chat's confession to Ladybug burns out. Marinette's confession to Adrien burns out. Even Gabriel has burned out. All three of our main players are at their low (which is a brilliant way to hint they're framing Gabe as not just a villain, he's treated to the narrative beats of a hero) All three felt solid and hit hard. It's the Lovesquare cliff notes, but it hits all the right elements. You still come away thinking 'If only they knew!' because the movie has really built up both Adrienette and Ladynoir in equal parts.

Final fight: Damn son, what is there to say? Akumatized Hawkmoth is not playing. Plagg telling Adrien to get his stuff together. This battle is just plain brutal. Mari unmasked! Chat punching his dad. Marinette being a hero without the suit, saving Chat in the same selfless way she saved Fu back at the beginning of the movie. Chat unmasked. and Gabriel's breakdown. *Adrien hugging his dad!* CLOSURE. Ladybug getting her Miraculous Ladybugs and it being a BIG DEAL, like it should be!

The Dance: Cute character moments. Chloe is big enough to give Marinette a 'truce' it seems, but mean enough to let her know it's not over yet. Sabrina's shrug is great :) Oh wait MARINETTE'S DRESS. It's Ladybug, it's beautiful. This girl is a designer. A reveal in snow. The two of them together, yes!

Post-script: Mayura next Villain? I'm hype.

End Notes: I feel this movie hit all the notes it needed to. We got the characters, they were compressed clearly because it's a movie, but still felt themselves, but fresh. Everything about this word feels a little more 'real' which is funny considering how ethereal all the lighting was.

I'm notoriously prone to critique and dissecting media, even media I enjoy. Yet my nitpick sensors were surprisingly mute while watching this. They told a huge amount of story, accessible both to long time fans and newcomers.

I probably have more thoughts, but that's already a lot for a Tumblr post. Feel free to engage my Asks or replies if you have questions or would like opinions on anything specific.

#miraculous ladybug #Miraculous Awakening #Ladybug and Cat Noir the movie #Miraculous Movie #Spoilers #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #alya cesaire #sabrina raincomprix #nino lahiffe #gabriel agreste #nathalie sancour #Master Fu #review

[y2ksnowglobe]

Guess who's still thinking about Birdie Oak?

In light of ep. 52, I'm struck by the parallels between Normal and Birdie.

Now Snowglobe, I hear you say, Birdie has zero canon characterization, what are you talking about? Okay, you're not wrong, but she's got a decent bit that can be inferred, so hear me out.

We start with Henry and Sparrow's perspectives on Code Purple. At it's core, it's a disagreement on whether or not protecting your family is worth sacrificing strangers (there are posts that go into this with a lot more nuance and I love those, but I don't want to get sidetracked). I don't think either Sparrow or Henry have the wrong viewpoint here, I think it's pretty much a trolley problem, but the point is we see a Henry that feels that helping those hurt by what he feels are his actions is a higher priority than his family. Heck, we even see this in Season 1 when they go back to Neverwinter and Henry wants to stand trial for what happened with the pyramid at the cost of rescuing their sons. We also know that Henry went on to build his little refugee camp Oakvale on Earth. I don't think it's too much of a jump to suggest that this wasn't a project he would have waited until Mercedes died to start.

HOWEVER, we see through Normal's teen facts that he still sees Mercedes and Henry post-code purple, Henry didn't just pack up the family and move to Earth, so we then get the scenario of Henry bouncing back and forth between the two realms, and in the process, maybe not being around a whole lot while Birdie is growing up. This , logically, gives us a Birdie who would be much closer to Mercedes than Henry, and that isn't a big problem until Mercedes dies.

Even though we don't see Birdie in Oakvale, it is the only logical place she could be, but it's pretty clear from just the description of Henry's hut that they're not close. There's zero indication that he shares that space with anyone else (my personal feeling is he gave her a different hut, since his was already constructed), and he doesn't bring her up to the rest of the teens/Lark and Sparrow while they're there, and would it be weird to the flow of the story if he went and found her to explain what was about to happen while waiting for the ten minutes to be up before the angel eats him? Yeah, but it does seem to indicate that Birdie tends to slip his mind sometimes in the face of everything else.

So where does this leave us? It leaves us with Birdie, losing the parent she was closest to, only to then have to be taken care of by her more distant parent who she has really complicated feelings about.

Okay, so let's look at Normal. It's been mentioned in Teen Talks that he's closer to his mom, and we can see their relationship pretty well in the episodes at their house. Meanwhile, even though hearing that Sparrow isn't proud of him takes him off guard, he mentions when they're in the calzone, that he never got the impression that Sparrow really liked him all that much. Add in the feelings of being left behind while Hero got to go "get ice cream"? Yeah...

So now, with the loss of Rebecca, we have Normal, losing the parent he's closet to, only to then have to be taken care of by his more distant parent who he has really complicated feelings about.

And I know it won't happen in canon, because pulling Birdie out now would be a really odd narrative choice, but...I want Normal and Birdie to talk.

#I'll probably write this at some point #right now I'm focused on my Birdie Oak magnum opus #because the brainworms are real #but I needed to get these thoughts out #Birdie Oak #Normal Oak #Sparrow Oak #Henry Oak #Mercedes Oak #rebecca oak swallows garcia #dndads #dungeons and daddies