#can I stop critiquing it now that I’m posting

[babydollmarauders]

THE START OF IT ALL — JACK HUGHES

part of the el!hughes au

summary: how jack and y/n (lovie) met, through the grace of quinn

warnings: bad parental guidance, small mention of body insecurities and anxiety. (4k words)

notes: a well overdue fic! i’m so thankful to you guys for being patient with me as i navigate writing in my hectic new reality of college and working full time! <3

goosebumps trail my exposed skin, the chilling air of the practice rink nipping from my lack of sweater.

the sound of skates scraping against the ice rings in my ears, mingling with the bangs of sticks hitting against pucks and creating an oddly peaceful soundtrack for my meditation.

my feet are killing me.

capezio tights stretch across my legs, making them shimmer in the fluorescent lighting of the rink, and a black leotard hugs my body, neatly pulled together with a pink wrap skirt. ballet flats adorn my feet, my pointe shoes laying idly in my dance bag in the seat beside me as i watch the national development team practice.

it feels like so long ago that i came and watched my first practice; the one fateful day of september seeming light years away now. but in reality it was only a mere couple months ago that a group of us dance girls had decided to walk down the block and watch a practice.

Natalie and Thalia wanted to check out the guys, and me? i just didn’t want to be left out. but then watching one practice turned into watching two, and then three, and before i knew it, it became a regular occurrence. it didn’t matter anymore that the girls lost interest and no longer tagged along, in fact, i enjoyed the time spent alone.

this became my safe haven; no dance partners to critique my fouettés, no parents whispering in my ear that i’m not doing well enough in school or that i’m not practicing my dances enough or that i need to go on a diet because i don’t look as pristine or perfect in my leotard as the other girls do. just me and the sounds of several sixteen year old boys whipping pucks into the net and gliding around the ice.

as the piercing sound of a whistle slices through my peace, i know that afternoon practice has ended, my serene escape over until tomorrow.

as the team shuffles off the ice and back into their locker room, i revel in the silence for a little while, taking the moment to change from my flats to sneakers; the twenty-seven minute trek home will be a lot more terrain than the five minute one from the ballet studio to the rink, and a lot harder on my shoes.

pushing up from my seat, my hand wraps around the strap of my dance bag, slinging it over my shoulder as i slide through the rows of seats. my feet squeak against the cement steps, two at a time until i reach the exit floor.

pushing through the glass doors, i slip out into the crisp November air, ducking my head as i walk past a group of players that stand around their cars after practice, hair damp from post-practice showers. a few more players can be heard slamming the doors of their cars, obviously in much more of a rush to get home than their teammates.

it only takes five minutes of walking for me to become paranoid, a black GMC following behind me with every turn i make. my heart stutters with anxiety, my pace speeding as i attempt to shake the fear that rakes my body.

but as i speed up, so does the car, until finally the drivers window rolls down as they drive at a pace similar to my walking speed. inside is a teenage boy, a familiar face that i know i’ve seen on the ice of the usntdp rink.

“hey, you watch our practices.” it’s a statement, he knows i do, i assume a lot of them know. it’s kind of hard to miss the thirteen year old girl sitting alone in the stands every afternoon.

i stop, turning towards the boy as i nod in response.

“i always see you walking home, do you want a ride?” he asks before his eyes widen, stumbling over words, “wait, i just realized how that sounds— i’m not trying to kidnap you, i swear! you just live a few houses down, i figured i’d save you some time.”

i’m aware that my answer might be stupid and not very well thought out, but in this moment, i truthfully don’t care— the boy seems trustworthy, an odd sense of warmth radiating from him, so i nod again.

“yes, please.”

his head nods in the direction of the passengers side, unlocking the doors as he tells me to hop in; and i do so, slipping into the seat and hastily pulling the seatbelt across my body.

“i’m Quinn,” he introduces, a hand held out in front of me, “i play for the national development team.”

“i know,” i hum out, shaking his hand, “i’m y/n.”

Quinn steps lightly on the gas pedal, continuing the route to our apparently shared street.

“so, why do you come to the practices?” he questions, and though the question itself sounds a little judgy, his tone is soft, “at first i assumed maybe you were a sister, but then i’ve never seen you with any of the guys.”

i watch as the trees pass by in a blur through the window, my hands fidgeting with the strap of my dance bag that sits on the floor between my feet.

“it’s peaceful.” i confess, making him throw me a lopsided smirk mixed in with furrowed brows, “i don’t really get along with any of the girls in my ballet class, and my parents don’t get home from work until dinner time. its nice to just kill some time and listen to the sounds of the skates on the ice and the pucks hitting the net.”

Quinn hums as though he understands me, and for once, it actually feels like someone does. we’ve barely spoken to each other, we’ve only just met, but for once in my life, i feel as though someone isn’t judging me or about to tell me what i could do better.

“i get it.” he shrugs, “so, have you been a hockey fan, or are you just a little oddball and like the sounds?”

a small smile spreads across my lips, a laugh escaping at his joke, and Quinn garners an appearance of pride at making me laugh. his chest puffs out just slightly, his posture straightening and a smirk resting on his lips.

“i am,” i nod, before i realize i should clarify, “a hockey fan. i’m a hockey fan.”

it’s Quinn’s turn to chuckle now, eyes flickering towards me before they settle back on the road ahead, “but i get the feeling you are a little oddball, aren’t you? or at least maybe some other people think so.”

the vibe in the car turns stony, my body tensing.

“yeah,” i drop my eyes to my hands, finding great interest in the dirtied white color of my bag strap, “i prefer to keep to myself, you know? it feels like all everyone tells me is how i can do better. how i can perfect my dances, or how i’m so pretty but i would be so much prettier if i did this or that, or how despite straight A’s and a 4.0 GPA, there’s more i could do to get into a stupid ivy league that i don’t wanna go to-”

i suck in a deep breath, cutting off my rambles prematurely, because here i was dumping all my insecurities and problems on a boy three years my senior and who i’ve only just met.

“i’m sorry, those are some shitty people.” Quinn frowns, a hand tightening just slightly around the steering wheel.

“that was all my parents.”

“fuck,” he curses, glancing over at me quickly with wide eyes as we turn onto our street, “your parents said all that?”

i shrug, nodding my head, “it’s what a parent does, right? they criticize you to be the best you can be. the girls in dance aren’t much better.”

Quinn parks the car in front of what i assume is his billet house, turning in his seat to face me properly.

“a parent should guide you to be the best version of yourself, not criticize you until you become the person they want you to be.”

his words repeat in my head, my brows threading together as i hum in acknowledgment of his statement.

rather than truly respond, i unbuckle my seatbelt, pushing the door open as i gather my bag from the floor.

“thank you for the ride, Quinn. sorry for dumping all my problems on you.”

i don’t give him a chance to respond, hopping out of the car and slinging my bag over my shoulder as i shut the door.

i’m only one house away when i hear him yell, “hey! same time tomorrow?”

i spin around confused, finding him standing next to the car with his hockey bag slung over his own shoulder.

“what?”

“same time tomorrow! i’ll drive you home!” he smiles gently, before giving a small wave and heading into his house.

what the fuck just happened? did i just make a new friend?

***

my entire body aches, my toes in particular feeling incredibly sore due to the bruised skin that covers them, but i push through.

only a week until the spring performance and i still don’t feel that my solo is where it should be. my pointe shoes make my toes prick with pain, but over time, the pain turns into a stinging numbness.

my reflection stares back at me in the mirrored wall, a frustrated puff of air passing through my parted lips. my tutu caresses my arms as i let them fall to my sides, lowering back down to flat feet.

in the mostly empty building, i can hear the ring of the bell above the front entrance followed by muffled conversation approaching the private room i currently occupy.

i walk over to the chair that holds my things, my brows furrowing as i check the time. i still have five minutes until Quinn is due to pick me up. that gives me more than enough time to run through the solo once more.

walking over to the barre, i flex my feet a couple of times. but before i can begin to dance, i’m bombarded by the sound of conversation.

“what are we doing at a dance studio?” a male voice echoes through the building, grumbling in obvious annoyance.

“i told you, i have to pick up a friend.” i recognize that voice immediately; Quinn. my close friend of four months.

“a girlfriend?” i scrunch my nose at the other person’s question, part of me wanting to shout out that i can hear them.

“a girl that’s a friend, yeah. more like a little sister.” a heated blush rises to my cheeks, a smile spreading across my lips.

he thinks of me as a sister.

a knock sounds against the door of the private room before it creaks open, Quinn’s head popping in.

“hey, twinkle toes, you ready to go?” he smiles warmly, his eyes sparking with care as he eyes my outfit, “nice tutu.”

“you’ve seen this one before.” i giggle but it quickly dies off into a sigh as i think about how much work i still need to put into the dance, “give me one sec?”

“yeah, go for it.” he nods, “mind if i come in?”

“come on in.”

closing my eyes, i take a deep breath, tuning out the sounds of Quinn and his company entering the room. breathing out, i enter fifth position.

plié, passé relevé, back down to fifth position, my eyes open as i run through the rest of the dance, focusing on my core and watching myself in the mirror.

my sight flickers to Quinn, a smile on his face as he watches me dance, and for a moment i feel so proud of myself. but then my sights set on the boy beside him.

fluffy dirty blond hair mussed atop of his head, beauty marks dotting across his soft features, and beautiful blue eyes that watch my figure. he’s the prettiest boy i’ve ever seen.

i stutter in my steps, suddenly nervous and self conscious in front of the unfamiliar face, and before i can fix my form, i buckle under his stare; missing a step before my ankle twists, a sharp tinge of pain shooting up my leg as i stumble back down onto flat feet.

“shit.” i whimper, my facial features contorting in pain as i flex my ankle, gauging my pain level.

“are you okay?” Quinn stammers, eyes wide in concern, “what happened?”

“i’m fine,” i sigh. walking over to my bag, i pull my flats out and sit on the chair, beginning the process of taking off my pointe shoes, “i just got a little distracted.”

“distracted?” Quinn repeats, confusion plaguing his features before he looks back at his company, his lips quirking into a smirk, “y/n, this is my brother, Jack. Jack, this is y/n.”

my face heats under the heavy gaze of Jack’s blue eyes, his shoes tapping against the floor as he steps forward, extending a hand in front of me.

“hi.”

he smiles and it’s as though the whole world slowed, as though the universe was saying ‘look. look at him. perfection personified amidst your very eyes.’

“hi, it’s nice to meet you.” my hand slips into his, shaking lightly before i pull away, distracting myself by continuing my endeavors of changing my shoes.

Quinn and Jack share whispered huffs, mumbled words between the two of them as i slip my flats on, shoving my pointe shoes in my bag.

i stand now, removing my tutu and holding it carefully, leaving me in only my tights and leotard.

“i’m ready.” they both look over at me, Quinn nodding in acknowledgment before he turns and wordlessly begins walking out, leaving his brother and i to fall in line behind him.

“so how did you guys meet?” Jack asks me as we step out of the private room, his voice hushed.

“i go watch the development program practices a lot, Quinn saw me walking home and offered me a ride.”

“you like hockey?” he raises a brow as he looks over at me with a bright grin.

“mhm.” i hum, “i’ve watched it my whole life. my dad is a red wings fan.”

we exit the building, following Quinn to his car.

“good team.” Jack replies, his voice far off, eyes staring ahead as though deep in thought; and i assume that’s the end of our conversation until he speaks again, “i liked your dance. pretty.”

blood rushes to the apples of my cheeks and i bite my lip to hold back a smile, “thanks.”

i pull open the car door as Quinn unlocks it, climbing into the back seat so that Jack can sit up front with his brother. but i’m surprised when he joins me in the back, earning a look from Quinn.

it’s silent as Quinn starts the car, pulling out from the parking space and out of the lot.

“so,” Jack starts, gaining my attention once more, “you dance and you like hockey, what else should i know about you?”

i ponder the question for a moment before i look over at him, “there’s not much to tell. i’m an only child, i like taylor swift, i don’t know.”

“well what do you and your friends do for fun? do you wanna be a ballerina when you graduate?” he turns towards me, letting me know i have his full attention.

“i only have one friend.” i shrug, “Quinn. and he and i usually just hang out at his billet house or at the rink. he’s been teaching me to skate.

“as for the ballerina thing, i don’t think so. i love dancing, but i don’t want it to be my life.”

Jack hums, nodding his head in thought before his lips part again, “give me your phone.”

“what?”

“gimme your phone.” he makes a grabby hand, waiting for me to pull my phone out of my bag before i set it in his palm.

he turns it on, getting in easily with my lack of password, and quickly types something before handing it back.

“two.” he smirks.

“what?” my face punches in confusion.

“you have two friends now.” i look down at my phone, a new contact open with his number inputted in.

“okay.” i smile, not quite sure how to react to this gorgeous boy wanting to be my friend. it’s a new feeling that i’m not quite used to.

the car is silent as we pull onto Quinn and i’s street, but if i remember correctly, he’s staying at a hotel with his dad for the next couple of days.

“hey, twinkle toes.” Quinn calls out from the drivers seat.

“yeah?”

“you still coming to the game tomorrow?”

“i plan on it.” i tell him.

“alright, you’ll be sitting with my dad and Jack.” he informs me, “Jack, you good to wait for her at the entrance to take her to your guys’ seats?”

Quinn stops in front of my house, unlocking the doors.

“yeah, sure.” Jack confirms, watching as i exit the vehicle, “i’ll see you tomorrow.”

“see you tomorrow!” i smile. i shut the door, Quinn’s window rolling down as he calls out a goodbye, “bye, snuggles!”

i can hear Jack snort out a laugh as i walk away, a wheezed echo of “snuggles?!” coming from the back seat.

“shut it, Rowdy.” Quinn grumbles, rolling up his window before peeling away.

***

thirty minutes.

i spent thirty long minutes picking out my outfit for tonight. when i originally said i would go to Quinn’s game, i had just planned on wearing a USA Hockey sweatshirt and some leggings; but now that i’ve met Jack and know i’ll be with him? i refused to dress down so much.

descending the stairs of my house, my mother peers over the back of the couch, her hair in a tight bun and her laptop in her lap, slaving over a law case with files piled beside her.

“what are you so dressed up for?” she inquires, her glasses sitting low on the bridge of her nose.

“i have Quinn’s game tonight.” i walk around the couch to stand in front of her, my nikes shuffling along the area rug.

“i’m so proud of you.” she smiles, and for a moment i’m left to ponder where this could go, “you’re finally taking a care to how you present yourself.”

and there it is; the subtle jab. it can never be a real compliment, there’s always gonna be the underlying insult muddled in somewhere.

“are you going with friends?” she questions, her focus falling back on the open computer screen in her lap.

“kinda?” i’m not quite sure what to call Jack, he said we’re friends, but we also don’t actually know each other.

“kinda?” my mother echoes in wonder, looking back up at me as i wander into the kitchen to retrieve a water bottle.

“yeah. i met Quinn’s brother yesterday, the one a year older than me?” i start, “i’m sitting with him and their dad at the game. i don’t think i would call us friends really, but we exchanged numbers yesterday.”

my mother sighs, pushing her glasses atop of her head in order to pinch the bridge of her nose.

“does this boy play that brutal game too?”

my mind wanders back to what Quinn has told me about his family in the past, “yeah, they all do.”

“oh y/n, don’t get too wrapped up in these boys. they won’t do you any good.” she tells me, “find a nice boy, one who wants to do something substantial with his life.”

“we’re just friends, mom. it’s not like anything is gonna happen.”

“but you want it to.” she narrows her eyes, waving her finger towards me, “i can see it. mother’s intuition. don’t fall for this boy.”

who is she to tell me who i should fall for? she and dad barely even speak anymore. i wouldn’t even call what they have, love.

“it’s just going to a hockey game, mom. their dad is gonna be there too.” i sigh, “i gotta go.”

“how are you getting there?” she asks, “are they picking you up?”

“no,” i shake my head, “dad said he would drive me.”

her brows furrow, “your dad had to go into work.”

i gape at her, a blank look covering my face. i shouldn’t be shocked, this happens all the time. it’s the same reason i walk home from ballet, or why i’ve come to rely on Quinn to pick me up for school. but somehow, it still always feels like a cut to the heart.

my mother sighs, shutting her laptop and rising from her seat, “i’ll drive you. come on.”

“you would think he would try and spend more time with you. but it’s always work with that one. work then family.” she mutters, ranting to herself as she slips her shoes on, grabbing her keys from the dish on the entryway table.

i fall in line slowly behind her, dreading this car ride already; because it appears it’s one of those days. the days where my mother will do anything to appear better in my eyes than my father. including talking down about him to me in hopes to make me more upset with him than i already am.

and i was correct. the entire drive was spent with me sitting silently in the passengers seat, watching my surroundings pass by as she went on and on about all of the things my father has done wrong in the past week.

i couldn’t get out of the car quick enough, nearly breaking the car door off its hinges as i throw it open. calling out a goodbye to my mother and assuring her that yes, Quinn would be driving me home afterwards, i slam the door shut and jog towards the arena entrance.

slowing down upon the sight of the glass doors, my body lights up, butterflies flutter in my stomach as i spot Jack in the lobby just through the doors. he wears jeans and a gray hoodie, converse tied to his feet, and he looks down at his phone, glancing up every few moments.

when his eyes land on me through the clear glass, a friendly smile spreads across his lips, slipping his phone into his pocket and taking a few steps towards the door, propping it open for me.

“hey!” he chimes as i reach the entrance, “puck should drop soon! i was gonna text you to check in but, i didn’t wanna push anything.”

my heart rate picks up, my cheeks burning at the idea of seeing Jack’s name pop up on my phone, “you can text me any time.”

Jack’s smile drops into a smirk, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief and amusement, “i’ll keep that in mind.”

“our seats are this way.” Jack begins pushing through the lingering people in our way, many not paying any attention to the people in their way as they try and navigate towards their own seats.

for a second, i’m pushed away from him, worry flooding my mind as i think of how i’ll try and find our seats if i lose him. but then he looks back at me, his eyes finding mine, and he must see the anxiety that fills my body, because it’s not a moment later that his hand finds mine.

his hand slips into mine, interlacing our fingers as he gently tugs me closer to him as he walks, a reassuring quirk to his lips, “i got you. it’s okay.”

and somehow, all my worry melts away, just like that. for some reason, i feel like he’s telling the truth; it’ll be okay.

there’s something about Jack’s presence that calms my nerves. that makes me feel okay. and it sounds utterly insane because i’ve known him for all of twenty-four hours, but i feel like can truly trust him.

as we reach our seats, Jack sitting next to his dad with me beside him, he still never lets go of me. instead, he rests our hands on his thigh, glancing over at me to gauge my reaction before he speaks.

“you okay?”

and finally, for once, i’m telling the truth, “yeah.”

#el!hughes au #jack hughes #jack hughes fic #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nj devils #faithlynn’s writings <3

[snowyquokka]

cw: mentions of s/h scars, insecurities, hurt/comfort, soft chan, 3rd person fem pov, swearing, mentions of body worship, small caps on purpose (please let me know if i missed any)

wc: 0.7k

a.n - HUGE DISCLAIMER. please please refrain from reading if you’re sensitive to any of the topics above. this is meant to be a vent post and NOT glorification of s/h, mental illnesses, ect. feel free to scroll if necessary. and if you want/need to talk my dms are always open. i love you all <3

✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧ ✧

looking at herself in the mirror, y/n sighs. she ghosts her fingertips over the lines of scar tissue littering her outer thigh, each one a reminder of every time she’s struggled.

each one proof that she overcame them. that she survived.

even though she knows this she can’t help but critique them, and herself.

how could she have been so weak, so fragile that she let her thoughts and feelings consume her life so much to the extent that she broke.

fortunately for her, there had always someone there that picked up the shards of her soul that had been scattered around. he glued them back together with his love and overtime handed her heart back in one piece, almost as if it never was broken in the first place.

“hi baby,” chris greets as rests his chin on her shoulder, dragging her out of her thoughts.

“hey,” she mumbles, continuing to run her fingers over the length of a particularly large scar. her boyfriend’s hands move to hold her hips, afraid that if he lets go she’ll slip through his fingers.

“what did i tell you about that, hm?” his voice is low and gentle as he scans over her body. the same body that he quite literally worships, always reassuring her of his adoration.

y/n sighs and pinches her eyes shut so she doesn’t have to look at him as she replies, “criticizing them is almost as bad as creating them.”

chris pulls y/n closer before whispering into her ear, as if they weren’t the only ones in the room. “exactly. now look at me, baby.” y/n shakes her head, feeling too embarrassed.

“baby girl. look at me.” chris manages to keep his composure despite feeling about a dozen emotions at once. though, it’s not the first time she’s been like this and they both know that it won’t be the last. he’s never minded it, actually, and never will. he would rather her talk about her urges then act on them. however, he’d never let that happen as long as he’s alive.

y/n lifts her gaze to meet his in the mirror, watching as his lips curl into his familiar, warm smile.

“there she is,” he murmurs, “can i?” chris’s hand creeps down from her waist to her leg where her shorts are raised, her insecurities on display for him.

she nods as she leans back against his chest. she follows his fingers as they trace over the largest scar tainting her skin.

“no matter how many times i see them, i’m never going to stop loving them. loving you. but you know this already, don’t you baby?” y/n nods. of course she knows, chris doesn’t give her a moment to doubt- or even forget his words. and he never will.

“you’re strong, y’know that? you are so very strong. and i know you hate hearing it but it’s the truth. you persevered and even though it pains me to admit it, you did it all on your own. that takes guts, baby.” chris buries his face in her neck, placing soft kisses on the column of her throat.

they stay like this for a while: his arms wrapped around her as he sways back and forth. he finally breaks the silence after he turns her to face him. he cups her jaw before placing a soft kiss on her lips.

“c’mon. let me run you a bath, yeah? i’ll make you some tea too.” y/n nods and smiles at him.

“thank you,” she laces their fingers together.

“for what, baby?”

“for loving me,” chris frowns slightly and pulls her into a comforting embrace, engulfing her in his warmth.

“you don’t ever need to feel the need to thank me for that, okay? i’ll always be here.”

whoever said that you can’t love somebody else until you love yourself was a fucking liar. chris is walking proof of this

#snowyquokka #stray kids #skz #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz reactions #skz bang chan #stray kids bang chan #bangchan #bang chan #stray kids fic #skz fic #bang chan fic #stray kids angst #skz angst #bang chan angst #vent post

[rawliverandgoronspice]

THE GERUDO POST

(aka an attempt at a critique of how gerudos were handled in BotW and before)

Oh no. TOTK being right around the corner, it might finally be time for the Gerudo Post.

(aka half of the reason why I made a Zelda sideblog in the first place)

So I want to preface all of this by saying that, as you could probably tell already, I’ve always adored the gerudos. They have fascinated my small child brain when I was 7; then the obsession made its comeback when I was 14, and now, here we are, almost 28, and I’m still thinking about the gerudos. I think they might be among my favorite fictional cultures for their potential and their understated storyline. I guess growing up in a very Arabic neighborhood, coupled with being bi-culturally latinx (?? does Brazil count?? you tell me), also always made them feel like home to me –especially when I was very young and there was not a lot of cool female representation flying around that managed to involve fiercely independent PoC women, flaws and teeth included.

This whole weird-essay-thing tries to do two things. First: analyze the place gerudos have occupied in the series, their initial problematisms and their subtextual narrative arc during the Myth Era coupled with their relationship to Ganondorf. Second: tiptoe to Breath of the Wild and poke it with a stick to see what happens –and in doing that, explain why I believe a lot of their characterization was defanged in service of smoothing their past with the hylians instead of deepening the culture on its own terms, and why I’m a little apprehensive about what that might mean for TotK even though I adore seeing the best girls at it again.

Those are the uhh terms of service??

And now, we must go back to 1998.

OCARINA OF TIME ERA

There’s so many things about the gerudos that are noteworthy and rich, and they’ve made for a complex piece of Zelda lore ever since their introduction –and when I say complex, I don’t 100% mean it as praise. The very racially charged decisions made about their inclusion have been discussed at length by the fandom, especially when it comes to orientalist and Islamophobic tropes being deployed pretty thoughtlessly in Ocarina of Time (their sigil being literally a crescent moon and star originally, the parallels are pretty obviously there).

We’re talking about a band of amazon-like, big-nosed brown women from the desert ruled by a single Scary Evil Man born once every hundred years hellbent on conquering Hyrule who they apparently worship like a god, characterized primarily as thieves, decked in jewelry and orientalist-inspired harem/belly-dancing clothing, hostile to the white good guys of Hyrule (especially men), unblessed by the Goddesses and so deprived of elongated ears (this is true for OoT –we’ll come back to that), also known as a demon tribe with their deity straight-out described as evil-looking by Navi (on my way to cancel you on twitter Navi you watch out), and secretly led by evil twin witches who can turn into a single seductress and, as two mothers, raised their Scary Evil Guy king who happens to basically be the devil.

In so few words, gerudos are the future that liberals want.

It’s worth notice, also, that Ganondorf’s characterization in this game is… kind of relentlessly uncomfortable to play through, especially before the 7 year skip. The utter assumption of depraved and evil intents from every character surrounded by dialogue that does little to hide its biases in spite of having generally very little proof to back them up –even though, in the game’s context, every character is correct to call his eyes evil and the darkness of his skin a moral judgment in on itself. The scene where Zelda demands that we believe her conclusion that the sole and only brown guy in the entire kingdom is evil and will do harm, and the game straight out refuses to progress until we concede that her dreams are prophetic and that this man must be stopped at any cost even though she has no more proof than her discomfort… hits different on replay.

I’m restating all of this not to pretend I’m making a novel and thought-provoking point, but to bounce back on a tumblr post I saw a while back (that I can’t find anymore!! I’ll link it if I find it again) –and so express what it is that gripped me with the gerudos in spite of their pretty damning depiction… and actually maybe thanks to it.

There’s a surprising amount of texture to Ocarina of Time’s worldbuilding that exists folded within the things introduced and left hanging, or in its subtext –and whether on purpose or not, I believe it is why people keep coming back to this iteration of Hyrule.

What was that about the king of Hyrule unifying a war-torn country? Why did the gerudos break the bridge connecting them to the rest of the kingdom during the 7 year timeskip while still worshiping Ganondorf, and why are the carpenters trying to rebuild it against their apparent wishes? What was that about gerudos imprisoning hylian men trying to force entry into their lands? What was that about the secret death torture chambers right next to the Royal Family’s tomb and connected to the race of people who were, apparently, born to serve them?

Nothing? Oh okay… okay… okay….

The same can be said about this strange depiction of this hostile tribe, consistently described as wicked yet suddenly friendly once you prove you deserve their respect once you... defeat them, so you now have joined them? Ocarina of Time isn’t very consistent when it comes to characterizing them as their occupation (thieves) or as a proper culture, with a king and a strange system of rulership that seem to involve at least 5 people: Ganondorf, the Twinrova, Nabooru and the unnamed random woman who decides you’re now part of the gerudos because you slashed enough of them with your sword and hookshot, which, uhh ok.

They’re but a ragtag and negligible group when discussed next to gorons and zoras and hylians, but they also clearly have their own religion and at least a 400-hundred years old history (probably far longer than this) and hints of a written language of their own. I’m not sure the game itself knows what it wants them to be, beyond: intimidating and hot and cool, but also wicked and, because of Ganondorf and the way you barge in their forbidden fortress (heh) with the explicit intent to dismantle their king, in apparent need to be saved from themselves.

Speaking of rulership and the Spirit Temple, let’s have a quick tangent about Nabooru: I always found her characterization when meeting with Child Link pretty strange. I refuse to mention the promised reward, which feeds into everything orientalist mentioned above, but I always found her moral compass so extremely convoluted for someone coming from gerudo culture. Nabooru says that, despite being a cool thief herself, she resents Ganondorf for killing people as well as stealing from women and children. Stealing... from women. Nabooru. Why are you this pressed that he steals from women!!! This feels so out of place, that the only girl of that hostile culture that betrays her king and befriends you, is the one that upholds moral values that only a hylian could possibly hold.

Either way: the strange unquestioned contempt of the game for them as a culture, mixed with the occasional bouts of heart, friendliness and badassery, makes it hard not to consider their depiction as pretty biased in favor of the hylians finding them at once exotic, scary and exciting, and could hide a more complex reality you might only get one side of –especially when you know there were originally plans for Ganondorf’s character to be more gray and motivated than what the campy final version ended up being. To be blunt: even in the context of a game for children, and maybe because of that fact, it all reads like a reductionist and imperialist/colonialist reading of a more complex situation.

This might seem like A Lot coming from a game where the actual game writing can be this overall flimsy and simplistic due to the standards of the time (it’s rough, it's so rough). But I would have never dwelt on that thought about a little children’s game if not for the mainline entries that came soon after, because... ooo boy.

The sense you’re not getting the whole story was certainly not helped by the introduction of Wind Waker Ganondorf, and the chilling emptiness of Gerudo Desert in Twilight Princess.

AFTER THE TIMELINE SPLIT

(I’m skipping Majora’s Mask, not because I dislike them in the game or think they’re not worth talking about, but because it’s a parallel universe and they’re never even called gerudos and their reality seems extremely different from their sisters in Hyrule so I think it’s okay to call them tangential and not dive too deep in this particular depiction)

Here’s something I want to highlight about gerudos and how they were characterized before BotW came along: their absence. Not only their physical absence, the lack of any gerudo character that calls themselves gerudo, but their absence from the text itself.

It’s not that Wind Waker and Twilight Princess retroactively scratch them off existence: we can clearly see Nabooru’s stained glass art in WW as well as recognize them being mentioned in Ganondorf’s final boss soliloquy, and WELL there’s quite a lot to say about their imprint over the world of TP. They are there –or at least they... were there. But nobody ever talks about what happened.

In Wind Waker, there was the deluge. It’s assumed lots of people died then, and those who survived scattered across the Great Sea. Are they sealed under the waves? Have they drowned? Is Jolene, Linebeck’s ex-girlfriend in Phantom Hourglass, a distant relative of one of the rare survivors? It’s unclear, beyond the fact that Ganondorf is the only living gerudo we see in this entire branch of the Timeline split.

In Twilight Princess, the desert which bares their name is empty. The hylians never mention that it used to be the name of a tribe: they’re not even named when Ganondorf is introduced for the first time, reduced once again to a mere band of thieves. We learn his plans to steal the Triforce in OoT were foiled, and that he may have turned to war. Then he lost the war, and was executed in Arbiter’s Ground: a strange structure in the desert, a mixture between a temple, a prison and a coliseum. What looks like gerudo writing coexists with hylian symbols, which often look much fresher. This dungeon is the Shadow Temple of TP: a prison hosting the worst criminals the kingdom has ever known, now haunted and cursed. Besides the locations, the only character that vaguely look gerudo in the entire game besides Ganondorf is Telma, a character with pointed ears that never seems to identify as anything but a hylian. What happened? Who’s to say. Nobody ever says anything. Not even Ganondorf bothers to mention them the way he did in WW –and though the game’s story is quite focused on another exiled tribe seeking revenge and dominion over Hyrule as retribution, the parallel is never explicitly drawn. So who’s to say what happened there. Who’s to say.

And in A Link to the Past and the games forward? The only mention of other gerudo characters are Koume and Kotake, resurrecting their son in the Oracles games through their own sacrifice and failing to bring anything back but a monstrosity incapable of making conscious decisions. Granted, most games in that extremely weird Fallen Timeline predate OoT and therefore had yet to make gerudos up at all. Still: canonically, between the gap of OoT and ALLTP, whatever it may be, gerudos disappeared here as well.

I think there’s something subtle and a little heartbreaking about the fact that no matter what Ganondorf does, the gerudos always end up dying out. His yearning for Hyrule, its gentler wind and the Triforce blessing its lands always costs him the kingdom that he does have already.

Now, does he care? A lot of people would argue that he doesn’t, that he used them like pawns for his own ambition and saw them as servants more-so than sisters, and I wouldn’t be surprised if it was Nintendo’s official opinion, but… One very powerful thing about most of Ganondorf’s incarnations (focusing on the human ones) is that he never seems to reject his cultural heritage. They could have gone for him wearing more kingly hylian stuff given the whole underlying theme of envy and pride surrounding his character, but never once does he try to look more hylian, beyond the ear situation that seems to be tied to the Triforce of Power? Either way: he is gerudo. Several of his outfits reference his mothers, as well as general gerudo patterning and jewelry. His heritage is something he proudly displays, even hundred of years in the future when there is no one left to remember what it means but him. I think it’s a very potent piece of characterization, an arc that crosses over multiple game and says something pretty intense about this character’s fate and his inherent destructiveness over the things he touches –starting with the Triforce, all the way up to his very own body and mind. His mental breakdown by the end of Wind Waker, when the king of Hyrule himself forces him to give up on the thing he sacrificed everything for, takes a new kind of weight with the whole picture taken into account.

(not to excuse genocide or general egomania-fueled madness and violence, but one thing doesn’t mean the other isn’t also relevant)

Regardless of whether this is a tragedy for Ganondorf as their uhh complete failure of a king, honestly, it is undeniably a tragedy for the gerudos themselves: a once-in-a-lifetime joyful event turned into a never-ending nightmare from which there seems to be no escape, their legacy now condemned to fade to black, leaving nothing behind but a demon boar forever laying ruin upon the world.

One may say I’m taking on the bleakest explication for the gerudos’ absence when there could be others. It’s true! Perhaps the gerudos are just chilling off-screen, completely fine, not interested in whatever is happening in the kingdom nearby and their disaster child having yet another temper tantrum about not being the Goddesses’ favorite boy. It’s possible! But regardless, what little elements we do possess as players doesn’t seem to support this, even if it remains possible –and regardless of actual gerudo lives, gerudo culture is definitively a goner in every single timeline.

Even if they did survive... Hyrule still won its unification war.

(I won’t mention Skyward Sword as they are not really a thing there, except for a butterfly that seems to suggest the Gerudo Province was a thing before the gerudo people –I don’t know what to do with this honestly– and the whole Groose situation, which, I’m not sure what to make of either beyond the fact that he may have gotten cursed by opposing Demise? And then went on to start the gerudo tribe, which ended up being an all-women group for some reason? Maybe? It’s not confirmed? I feel like it’s more of a fun tidbit than a central piece of the gerudo puzzle, so I’ll leave it there like I would a cool rock I brought back from a walk and that I don’t know where to put in my house)

Then, Breath of the Wild happened and changed things.

BREATH OF THE WILD

(Additional short note, but: while I won’t mention Four Swords Adventure, since it’s a weird one that almost nobody has played and severely messes with the Timeline, we kind of see the beginnings of what is about to happen in Breath of the Wild in this game –gerudos coming back without much explanation, then distancing themselves from Ganondorf to become friends with hylians because he was too hungry for power and now they are nice and have good reputation because they are our friendsss)

I was actually so happy to learn gerudos were making a comeback in a mainline Zelda game, and this got me more excited about Breath of the Wild than basically anything else the game involved. And getting to explore the Desert once again, meeting this new batch of impossibly tall buff girls, getting more about their language and their culture, Riju and the rest of the little girls are adorable, the grandmas are so cool, the sand seals??? sign me the fuck up??? And above it all, hanging around Gerudo Town at night and feeling as warm and cozy as little me liked to imagine how freeing it would feel, to stay there and watch the desert behind the safety of their walls in OoT… This was great. I loved it.

It was a huge compensation for the criticism I’m about to make, but did leave me with… questions regarding how their culture was going to be handled moving forward.

I’ll start with something small yet deeply revelatory, then work my way from there.

So... gerudos’ ears are pointy now.

This is pretty significant. Lore-wise, it’s been said that the elongated ears of hylians are there so they can better hear the voices of the gods. It’s considered a sign of holiness in-universe. There's a bunch of really thoughtful analysis on tumblr over that whole Ganondorf ear situation, which is a mess but also very interesting, but the short answer is: I think the absence of pointy ears was a clear design choice to originally signify them as Less Good. Even when Ganondorf gets pointier ears, they never get as long as hylians’. Worth noting: not every non-gerudo character has pointy ears: gorons, zoras and ritos (among others) do not possess this trait, and there are even some humans that have regular rounded ears in the series –though they always seem to be of lesser relevance, if not downright peasants in Twilight Princess. Pointy ears always tended to implied a strict hierarchy in the series: basically, the more pointy, the more Protagonist you become.

(also their eyes becoming green instead of the traditional yellow/golden, which looks more wicked and demonic --and cooler also tbh)

The pointy ears imply two things. From within the game, this could be interpreted in two ways: either that gerudos… converted, for a lack of a better term, and are now considered holy through their worship of the Golden Goddesses and/or Hylia, or that their mingling with hylians through tens of thousands of years had them acquiring this trait out of sheer genetic override (though they have kept their mostly-women birth rates, their big nose, darker skin –for the most part– and red hair). Probably a healthy mixture of both. Design-wise, it signifies something quite simple to the player: they are on hylians’ side now. They are good guys. We can trust them, even if they still have a little spice in them. They aligned themselves with us and against Ganon in all of its manifestations (even if he’s but an angry ghastly pig being parasitic to everything it touches in this iteration). They are on the side of Good, definitively, and will fight evil by our side.

On that note, I think it’s worth bringing out another major change from their initial iteration, which is their overt friendship with Hyrule as a whole, and with the Royal Family in particular. Despite not allowing any voe inside their walls (we’ll come back to this), their relationship with hylians is pretty neat. They have booming trade roads, travel and meet with the rest of the cultures, and are fierce enemies with the Yiga clan, who are renowned for being huge Calamity Ganon supporters. The tables certainly have turned. I want to bring out, in particular, Urbosa’s friendship with the queen and her role as the cool aunt taking care of Zelda and protecting her from evil (to be noted: I am not familiar with Age of Calamity so if I’m mischaracterizing her in any way, please let me know). The gerudo sense of sisterhood has been extended to the royals they used to fight against. I would go on and say the cultures peacefully coexist, but I think that what we’re looking at here is a case of vassal behavior, just like we used to have from zoras (in the non-Fallen Timelines) and gorons. This is a huge departure from gerudos being openly rejecting of Hylian culture in their initial iteration, and something that is worth returning to later.

Okay. Now it’s time to mention the weird obsession BotW gerudos have with romance. I didn’t take notice of my issues with their writing until I realized how prevalent of a theme that was. Now, the reason given for gerudos to refuse entry to males (of every race) has much more to do with preventing young gerudos to make mistakes than anything else, and is actively being put into question by the younger generations –which would make sense. But the amount of NPCs that either lament their lack of match, talk about their husbands (because they marry now apparently) or are invested in romance, and a very limited understanding of romance at that (heterosexual, closed, etc), makes for much more of the population that I initially expected. There’s no mention of what’s going on with their males, if there are new males being born and either exiled or abandoned, or if Ganondorf being technically still alive have have cut them off male heirs. Either way: no more kings, only girlbosses chiefs.

To have the gerudos so interconnected with Hyrule, not only through trade but through extremely coded romance where they have to make themselves palatable to a future male partner and enforce fidelity, was… a choice. The extremely brief and skippable mention of gerudos sometimes going to Castle Town in search for boyfriends in OoT became half of their personality traits in this game. We went from a race that was fiercely independent and mocking of the unworthy men who tried to mingle with them, to… this. Now I’m not saying some of the sidequests aren’t cute, or that I didn’t like the wedding, or that the grandma near the abandoned statue of Hylia (so she was worshipped at some point) clocking us and talking about her love life wasn’t one of my favorite gerudo conversations. I’m saying that the vibes have definitively changed. For the better? I’m not sure.

I once stumbled upon an article that said that Breath of the Wild gerudos were a huge improvement compared to their original introduction, because they were no longer presented as evil and hostile thieves groveling at the boot of a single man, but as a full culture allied with the protagonist and actively involved in the story, while still getting their Cool Girl Badass moment (again can’t find it anymore, I’ll link it if I stumble upon it again). I see where this comes from, but I honestly can’t help but consider it a reading that assumes something pretty major (though through no fault of their own, as the games tend to hammer this down as hard as they can), and that being hylians as the unquestioned anchor of Good.

Which, in spite of what the games want me to believe, I… feel uncomfortable taking at face value.

To me, regarding how gerudos are being incorporated in that goodie narrative, this is kind of a case of surface-level feminism trumping over colonialist/imperialist concerns. It becomes more important to perform the aesthetics of being cool and friendly and independent than scratching at any deeper problem that would risk making people uncomfortable. This is kind of Green Skin Ganon all over again: oh wait, isn’t it a little icky to have the evil bad guy being brown while faced by the most aryan-looking ass heroes of all time? Okay, then let’s take the brown guy and make his skin green so we don’t have to feel bad anymore that the conflict has racial undertones!! Solved!! There’s nothing questionable about changing a PoC's features to make it more monstrous and less human, right?

To me, it’s kind of the coward option: instead of accepting the messy reality those initial choices created (and their interesting nuances if taken at face value), let’s just… rewrite the PoC culture’s history to make it feel less uncomfortable for the white heroes. In many ways, it is an extension of what hylians have always done: scrubbing the weird and messy things about the past and shoving them deep down into the spooky well and far into the desert prison and away in alternate hellish dimensions, and then make up a very simple story where they get to feel good about themselves –except this time, it’s the fabric of the games, the literal reality, bending backward to make it happen. Which, in my opinion, makes it much worse than before. Now, there’s no conversation. The fabric of reality is changing their own history so that there is nothing to discuss anymore. Ganondorf was always evil incarnate. He never had any point. It was always 100% his own fault, his own hubris, his own fated wickedness. He was always demonic (and green, very important –having a flashback to people on twitter accusing artists restoring the TotK green skin to the original brown of wanting to make Ganondorf black, and like….. how do I put it gently…..)

And, above all else: gerudo are to distance themselves from his legacy so they can stay in the club of the Good and Just and Holy.

Because here’s the messy thing: as much as I love seeing the gerudos again in Breath of the Wild and as much I love for them to have survived the Era of Myth (??? somehow ???), this… kind of changes Ganondorf’s character arc. No longer do we have the story of a king who wanted more, either for his people, for himself or both, and led his culture to its destruction in his search for absolute Power, while remaining ironically incapable of maintaining what little he already had. This starts from him kneeling to the king of Hyrule in OoT and leads to the deluge, Arbiter’s Ground, his own mothers dying for the sake of his failed resurrection. Breath of the Wild changes this: now, the gerudo were apparently fine without him? They apparently did their own thing and became suddenly and inexplicably disconnected from his actions? I know it’s kind of implied they side with hylians at the end of OoT, but it’s honestly never really explored why they would cheer for the death of their king while never seeming to resent him before except for Nabooru –there are mentions of brainwashing for those who resist him (as well as “other groups in the desert”, tho they are never mentioned again), but it’s hardly a proper plot point for the majority of the tribe, aaaand they still die by Wind Waker in the Adult Timeline, in spite of their potential alliegance…

(again, this shift towards submitting to Hyrule actually started with Four Swords Adventure, getting crisper with each iteration)

There used to be this polite blur regarding Ganondorf’s relationship to them, how much he used them and how much he acted in their name (with arguments for both sides), and I think this messy and debatable question mark was one of the most compelling aspects of his character. Gerudos rejecting their relationship at a near-cosmic, reality-bending level, removes a huge layer of complexity to both parties… all for the benefit of making hylians come out cleaner out of this whole exchange, their moral grayness barely a whisper in the distance.

I’ll kind of go on the record and say that I suspect the addition of Demise to the canon to serve a similar purpose (at least in part): if Ganondorf becomes but the manifestation of a demonic curse, and is no longer an extremely messy character brimming with agency and drive, forcing the heavens to reckon with said agency in a way he was never meant to access, born from a complex set of circumstances from which we clearly get only a limited and biased perspective, then it becomes extremely clear that he’s a Bad in a way that isn’t worth exploring further. Even if he does have some points, he is a Bad. It’s what matters most. Not to say I even hate what this angle can bring to the table or that I want him to become Good (I don’t –I’ll talk more about why I dislike most takes on him being a helpless victim to the curse), but once again, who benefits from adding another Unquestionned Baddie to the equation to rest upon? Not him, and not the gerudos, that’s for sure.

So. Why did I, me, personally, like the gerudos in the first place?

Beyond the inherent coolness factor of their culture and the fascinating mysteries of what is merely suggested, I think… I think I loved gerudos because we were obvious outsiders. Because their rejection of Hylian culture was so sharp and extreme, their value system so different, and their writing, their religion, their relationship to power and hierarchy and worth wanted nothing to do with hylians. They didn’t need hylians, beyond them having potential resources to steal. In fact, the threat of hylians influencing their culture was such that the entry to the Fortress was forbidden to everyone (I don’t think men were ever singled out, by the way, even though they are mocked relentlessly). I think there was something inherently hopeful about this semi-matriarchy resisting the outside world, and especially its notions of what girls were meant to be –it was 1998, and every other girl character in OoT, besides Impa and Sheik that?? is another can of worms entirely, is either helpless or someone to save. For them to reject this narrow vision of femininity was, in my opinion, much more radical than what we got in BotW. Less nuanced, more problematic perhaps? But also much more powerful. Gerudo Valley is home, not to a town, but a Fortress.

Hylians were worth being resisted.

In Breath of the Wild, their refusal to let men enter their town is kind of boiled down to a fading tradition over-focused on romance, a meek little game of chase. Their entire goal seems to be finding a hylian to settle down with. Say what you will about the single man and the many girls (never explored and completely open-ended in its implications, btw), but at least it wasn’t… that. At least it opened the way for different ways for people to exist and imagine culture and civilization, outside of the heterosexual couple, the christian-infused patriarchy and its trickling down implications. What I want to say is: let my girls tell hylians they ain’t shit!! That they aren’t the end all be all of reality! This is what made gerudos so compelling in the first place! Where is that bite now? Where is that self-definition?

It’s gone, because hylians need to be Good. So we tee-hee at the creep running laps around the town, we disguise ourselves to breach their trust and infiltrate their town (though there is nuance to be had there, gender be complicated etc), we watch them pine after shitty dudes and take classes to become the perfect approachable woman and make love soups with ?? strange ingredients honestly, and we witness them get very friendly with the Royal Family they used to conspire against, dying to protect the princess against the manifestation of their ancient king reduced to a raving puddle of Bad Boar.

Hyrule, unified against him.

TEARS OF THE KINGDOM

For posterity’s sake: this post was made before the game was released. I’ll probably update my thoughts on a separate thing later on.

I don’t think gerudos allying with the hylians and burying their own legends about Ganondorf as deeply underground as they can until it blows up in their face is a bad setup at all. It’s actually pretty juicy, and there’s a ton of fascinating stuff that could happen here –even some involving gerudos taking a firm stand against him while still reconnecting with their past and the choices they made once. This is my hope with the title of the game: Tears of the Kingdoms. Let’s examine them all, account for the damage, and decide how we move forward from there with the full knowledge of where we come from.

What I am afraid of (and I already made posts about that) is the scenario where gerudos rallying against Ganondorf, which I expect will forcefully try to take back his place as their king, is used for cheap feminist points that completely fail to examine, well. Everything mentioned above. Where reality bends itself out of the way of the Goddesses, and hylians’ responsibility in any of this mess, so that everything bad is 100% Ganon’s fault and so he must be cast aside and torn away from the Cool Gerudo Girls and this is 100% justified and deserved because we are Independent Women Who Take No Shit from No Men (unless they are the king of Hyrule or any random hylian they wish to marry apparently).

I’ll say this here because it’s been burning my mouth every time I see discourse about Ganondorf and the gerudo: gerudos declared him as their king. To make a really bad comparison that I dislike: he didn’t run around to assemble girls and make a cult around himself, he was born with the cult already formed around him (and it’s not a cult, it’s just a different mode of governance –hylians also revere the Royal Family like gods, don’t they?). This heavily changes the dynamics at play. Not to remove any agency from him to do a little invasion about it, but chances are the ancestors to BotW’s gerudos fully expected him to behave in this way, at least to a degree –in OoT you see very plainly that they value physical prowess, feats of thievery, witchcraft and general violence. It’s more complicated than him being a Bad and making the poor helpless women go along with the plan uwu –even taking the brainwashing into account, AND Koume and Kotake counting as gerudos too, even if they might not be not fully innocent in shaping the culture and the man himself. If manipulation and forced servitude is the explanation given, I’ll be genuinely mad –because, once more, all the nuance and messiness would be flattened for the sake of making Ganondorf Bad and the gerudo Good (= on hylians’ side).

It bears to be said: I think feminism stances that require, not to criticize (which is fair), but to fully dehumanize and bestialize men of color to make any sense are uhhh bad, and it's worth questionning who they end up serving in the end.

The flip side of this would be to make Ganondorf a poor little meow meow that was secretly controlled by the evil Demise all along, and... I’ll be real. I really don’t think it solves our problem at all. It might even make it worse.

My problem with how gerudos have been handled thus far, being mostly connected to how they behave in relation to hylians Good, is that they’ve been systematically defanged not to threaten the status quo as much as they used to. I think it’s pretty clear why I’m not a fan of Ganondorf being a mere victim of cosmic circumstances; I have a post that goes more in depth about this, but to simplify: my man has legitimate grievances. To make him a mere puppet to Evil Incarnate would, to me, be just another attempt to erase the despotism of the Goddesses, the unjust hierarchy of the world, what hylians have historically done to the races they were in conflict with (looking at the Yiga for the most recent example…)

I’m not saying his fight is clean or even legitimate, that he isn't driven by his own sense of self-importance above anything else, or that he should win (he has no plan beyond domination and victory, that's not a future). But I think there’s something really important about having someone being willing to fully consume himself and everything around him for the simple fact that someone should resist the order of the world. Even if that makes him a heartless, cruel, and egomaniac demon-pig. Even if there’s no Hyrule left to rule. Even if his own people despise him, or are long gone and forgotten.

Is it a little heart-wrenching? Uhh yes to me yes most definitively. This is why Wind Waker Ganondorf hits so hard, and remains (I think) his favorite entry in the series so far. But… I still find this fate of eternal resistance more resonant and empowered, and far less grim, than if Hyrule’s lore absorbs his hatred and rage, gives it to another entity that would be Badder (= more opposed to hylians and the goddesses), and scrubs it off anything icky and uncomfortable, rendering it completely domesticated and non-threatening to hylian domination; rubbed of his skin color, of his complexity, of his own emotions, even made... kind of sexy now, in the same way his sisters have been made before him? I am very, very afraid of him being turned from furious and an unapologetic subject in his own legend to a "redeemed" (according to whom??) and palatable object in somebody else’s, that you now end up having to… save from himself.

Again, I want to trust that Tears of the Kingdom can walk that line and preserve everything sharp and contrasting and profound and thrilling about this fascinating setup. I don’t expect a philosophy course, this is a game for children –but it doesn’t mean Nintendo didn’t do an astounding job with similar setups in the past. Again, I’ll invoke the Wind Waker conflict, but Twilight Princess did a lot of great things as well (Zant’s speech, if you can get past the weird stretches and stumping and NNHYAAAs, is pretty fantastic) –and the subtle writing of Majora’s Mask is also proof enough this series can be complex without being impermeable.

So this is where my hope lies. Not really with BotW’s writing, which, I’m sorry to say, but I found to be below what the series has done in the past (I have no problem with the setup and how the story is explored, I think it was a great idea, but wasn’t ever sold on the actual writing the way I may have been with previous titles –it felt… very tropey to me overall, with a couple of highlights). But Nintendo has shown to know how to write compelling stories for children that know where to sprinkle its darkness and how to preserve its hope, and this is this side I’m relying on for this delicate storyline moving forward.

And now? Now… I suppose we wait and see.

(thank you for reading my impossibly long essay what the actual hell, at least I got it all out of my system, see you in part 2 for when TotK comes out I suppose aaa)

#gerudos #gerudo #ganondorf #tloz #totk #botw #breath of the wild #ocarina of time #twilight princess #wind waker #ww #tp #meta #hylian critical #zelda meta #thoughts #this took SO LONG #but at least it's DONE #let me know if I say stupid things!! #I probably do!!

[gvfmarge]

My first fic????!!! Who am I??

Jakey blurb:

I’m so so nervous to post this. I don’t have many followers and I haven’t really interacted with many of you. But I just had this idea in my head and I had to write it down, it’s super duper short. I’m not a writer by any means and I didn’t really edit this, so please be kind. 🥺

This is loosely based off of my experience with my 2 babies and our first days at home. (It’s really not as beautiful as this makes it out to be and the exhaustion is REAL- in case you don’t have kiddos)

This is probably a flop and I doubt anyone will actually read but here it is. Also, I’m on mobile so I hope this posts okay and is readable. Again, please be kind and I would always love some type of feedback or critiques!!

Trigger warnings: Newborns and exhaustion. Really nothing but pure sickening fluff.

Jake (husband/dad) x Reader

~~~

“Are you just soooo hungry, is my sweet girl just starving to death?” He hums to her as he zips up the lilac colored floral footie pajamas. As he scoops her up from the changing table, he turns to you with his toothy grin. “Momma’s right here baby.” He hushes her cries with his whispered promises. Jake slips Nora into your arms and gently sinks down into the bed beside you.

You’ve always loved Jake. You’ve loved him since the first time you met eyes. He takes up every ounce of your heart. But there is just something in the way he rocks your daughter, something in the way he sings to her, the way he looks at you while you’re holding her that makes you realize you never knew how much you actually loved him. You never believed your heart could hold any more love for this man, but watching him love the child you created with him has made you feel like the world has stopped for only you and your new family.

Today is your second full day of being home from the hospital after giving birth. It’s nothing like you imagined, it’s harder than you ever imagined but Jake has been nothing short of amazing. You have never felt more taken care of and cherished before.

“I can’t believe she’s actually real.” He says looking down at her in awe while she nurses. You can see the love in his eyes, you can feel it radiating off of him. It has enveloped your entire life now. Every inch of your house is full of love because of this new life you have brought into it.

“I know, I still feel like it’s all a dream actually.” You whisper back, leaning your head on his shoulder. “It felt like she would never be here and here she is.” He hums in response and turns his head to kiss your forehead. You both sit tangled together while you feed Nora until she finally falls asleep in your arms.

Jake eventually slides off the bed when he notices your eyes getting heavy. “Let me take her for a while baby, you need to nap.” He says stretching out his arms to lift her off of your chest. “Are you sure? I’m okay, I really don’t feel tired.” As you’re yawning, you realize just how exhausted you are. Jake has barely let you lift a finger since you’ve been home from the hospital. He’s changed almost every diaper, cooked every meal, woken up with Nora almost every hour at night to help you feed her. “Aren’t you tired too? You’ve done so much, lay down with me and we can cuddle while she naps.” You’re hoping he agrees, you really don’t want him to take her and you really don’t want him to leave either.

He places Nora in her bassinet beside the bed and places his hand on her chest and she settles back down into sleep. He slowly walks to turn off the lamps around the room and closes the curtains, stretching his arms above his head as he walks back to his side of the bed and almost crashes his body into the mattress. “I’m so glad you said that because I think I might die if I don’t sleep.” He says muffled into his pillow.

You giggle at his dramatics and curl into his side, pulling the blankets up over your shoulders. “I love you so much, Jake. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to show you just how much.”

“You already have baby, you’ve given me everything I could ever want and more. You’ve given me the perfect little family, that is all mine. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

As you both drift off into your nap, you both can’t help but smile through the exhaustion. Understanding now just how much this is all you’ve ever wanted.

#Greta van fleet #fanfic #gvf #jake kiszka x reader #fluff #Jake blurb #jake kiszka #jake kiszka blurb #jake kiszka fic #greta van fleet fic #gvf fic #jake fluff #jake kiszka fluff #my writing

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 22nd:  First concert | Triumph of King Freak - Rob Zombie | Eager a/n: a missing scene from an older fic, counting stars (when I look in your eyes)! post-canon fix, eddie pov, established steddie, fluff with a dash of angst, mention of eddie's late mother read on ao3 + ao3 masterpost | tumblr masterlist

December, 1988

“Why does your acoustic have that written on it? ‘This Machine Slays Dragons’?” Steve asks as he watches Eddie strum without looking at his hands. It’s a bit mesmerizing, the way his fingers glide along the strings of their own accord. 

The song stops and Eddie slaps the body of the guitar in his lap. 

“This old girl is an homage to one Woody ‘This Machine Kills Fascists’ Guthrie. Ever heard of him?” 

“He did ‘This Land Is Your Land,’ right?”

Eddie claps his hands together and points two finger guns his way. “Ding ding ding, we have a winner. Yeah, he wrote that and a shit ton of other political critique folk music.” 

“I didn’t know you liked that sort of thing. Sounds pretty far removed from Metallica, y’know?”

“Only in delivery. You’d be surprised how much overlap there is in meaning. But yeah, my uh—” Eddie stops and pulls the guitar closer to his torso and swallows the dust in his mouth that’s gathered from years of not talking about his mother. “My mom was a big fan of it. She loved Guthrie, Baez, Dylan, Grateful Dead, Cohen. You name it, she loved it.” 

Steve’s heart tries to claw its way out of his body to run towards Eddie sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, timid smile, and fidgeting hands. 

“That’s really cool, man. She sounds awesome. How come you don’t talk about her more?” 

“It just—I don’t know. It still hurts, I guess. Which is stupid, I was eight when she died so it should get easier, right?” Eddie laughs humorlessly and stares at his strings like they hold answers to questions he didn’t know he had. He wants to crawl on top of Steve, desperate for warmth and comfort now, and looking at him makes the urge damn near impossible to beat back. So he doesn’t look up. 

Steve adjusts his position on the bed, subconsciously making room. “Hell no, that’s not how grief works, Ed. Wish it was that easy but I’ve seen a lot of death personally and with work, and it changes people. You can tell me to fuck off if I’m like, overstepping here but you were a kid. You’re allowed to be sad about her death, and you’re allowed to talk about it.” 

Eddie pauses for a long moment, considering the validation and how much he trusts Steve. He trusts him with his life, his soul, his heart, his  everything. Maybe everything could include his past, too. His voice is wistful when he starts.

“She used to sing Dylan’s ‘Forever Young’ around the house.”

December, 1974

Eddie sits cross-legged on the floor, threadbare couch behind him as he flips through a comic book gifted to him by his Uncle Wayne. The page crinkle with each turn and he traces the illustrations of each villain and superhero, the words a bit lost on him but the pictures jumping off of the page. Varying shades of saturated reds and blues disappear and reappear beneath his pointer finger and grins. He hasn’t read the story yet– he prefers to make up his own first– but he can see that the good guy is about to win. 

Happy endings are just so rare in real life. 

His mom is in the kitchen, singing softly and stirring something on the stove in a corroded aluminum pot. Eddie picks up the delicate scents of tomatoes and peppers, maybe some kind of meat. She’s been in a bright mood today, singing as she cooks, singing as she did her best to clean up the beer cans and bottles that litter the living room. Eddie even heard her singing in the shower that morning.

It’s not lost on him that his dad’s been gone for a few days. Hell, that’s the only reason he’s able to sit in the living room: there’s room for him. 

His dad is always too loud, drowning out the soft soprano of his mother’s voice. Everything she sings sounds like a lullaby, so it’s fitting that Eddie closes his eyes to listen. 

Eddie loves when his mom sings, especially the song she’s singing now. 

May you always be courageous

Stand upright and be strong

May you stay forever young

May you stay forever young

She never tells him, but he feels like she sings it just for him. 

November 1990

Steve hasn’t been this nervous to give Eddie a Christmas gift since that first Christmas of theirs two years ago. Funny enough, the gift then had been related to his late mother, too. Maybe he has a pattern. The envelope shakes in his hands as he sits next to Eddie on the couch– their couch, actually. At least as of a few months ago when they’d put down their down payment on the small, one-bedroom apartment in the heart of Indianapolis. 

Eddie glances over and sees Steve’s right hand nearly crumpling whatever his gift is, his fingertips white and his smile tight. Whatever it is must be time sensitive, since he’s insisted on giving it to Eddie so early. 

“What is it, Steve? You look like you’re gonna shit yourself.”

Steve laughs, nervous and breathy. “I actually might, and we just bought this couch, so. Just– here. Open it.”

He pries the envelope from Steve’s hand and tears it open, Steve having to caution him against ripping it in half and voiding the fucking the gift. Three rectangles fall out onto his lap, full of typewriter style font. 

“Oh shit, concert tickets!” Eddie smiles and knocks his knee against Steve’s. “Why were you so nervous? This is awesome!” 

Steve nods at the tickets. “Did you see who it is?”

Eddie’d been too excited about finally getting to a proper concert, one that he doesn’t have to set up and break down with Gareth, Jeff, and Frank. When he looks down and actually reads the headliner, his heart stops. 

University of Dayton Arena Presents: BOB DYLAN TUESDAY, NOV 13 1990 7:30 PM

“Steve… is this…?” He can’t find the words, buried and lodged behind the lump forming in his throat. 

Steve watches him carefully as he traces the letters with one finger, a habit he’s picked up on over the years, and gently rests a hand on his thigh and gives it a squeeze. “You okay?” 

Eddie nods. “Yeah, yeah, I’m definitely okay.” 

Okay is an understatement. He’s bewildered, he’s humbled, he’s ecstatic. When Eddie tears himself away from the small rectangles that sit on his lap like the gold bars they are, he looks at Steve with wonderment. First, the music box. Now, this. How is he ever going to keep up? 

“I know it’s your first concert but I saw that he was coming around and I just figured it’d be cool, y’know? I don’t know who he’s touring with or anything–” 

He does this, Steve knows. He knows that he rambles when he’s nervous or when he’s put himself out there and for some reason, giving Eddie these tickets feels incredibly vulnerable. Even years later, even after Eddie’s constant reassurance that he could never, Steve would hate for Eddie to think that he’s encroaching on special memories. 

Before he can finish his stream of thought, Eddie kisses him. Just leans over, tickets still in his lap, and claps both hands on either side of his cheeks as Eddie plants one on him. Then again. And again. And again. 

Eddie peppers every inch of Steve’s face with kisses, interjecting in between each one. 

“You’re–” Kiss to the nose. 

“So fucking–” Kiss to the cheek. 

“Perfect–” Kiss to the forehead. 

When he finishes, Eddie rests his forehead against Steve’s and wraps his arms around Steve’s neck, feeling them shake beneath him as Steve laughs. “Always so dramatic.” 

“And you love it. But, wait,” Eddie pulls back and picks the tickets back up. “Why are there three?” 

“Do you honestly think Wayne would ever speak to me again if I got tickets for Bob Dylan and didn’t include him? C’mon, man. Christmas would be so fucking awkward.”

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie month #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myblurbs #eddie month prompts

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hello! Do you have any advice on how to deal with the fear of bad-faith readers? Thanks to spending too much time online during Covid, my confidence took a huge hit, and now I’m quite worried about random online users discovering my writing and complaining that my writing is not good enough, not diverse enough, not social justicey enough, etc. It’s often made me hesitate a lot during my writing recently, so any advice to deal with this would be much appreciated. Thank you!

Fear of Negative Feedback/Reviews

Three things to keep in mind here:

#1 Reviews and comments aren't feedback. Unless you post your story to a place dedicated to writer feedback or where you're specifically asking for feedback, any commentary or review you receive is not there to educate you. It's either there as thanks and/or flattery, or it's there to let other readers know what to expect. On sites like AO3, for example, unless you specifically ask for concrit, you will probably only get neutral or positive commentary which isn't feedback. If you get negative comments, just ignore them if you didn't ask for them.

#2 Reviews are for readers. Let me say that again...

Reviews are for readers to let other readers know what they liked and didn't like about a book. They are not there for the author's harm or benefit. They're not there to educate the author. They're there for other readers, full stop.

Write the best story you can write, and if you can, utilize feedback tools meant for writers (alpha readers, writing groups, critique partners, sensitivity readers, beta readers, editors...) to ensure your story is everything you want it to be.

If your alpha readers, writing groups, critique partner/s, sensitivity readers, beta readers, or editors have concerns about representation in your story, those are the issues you need to address.

Once your story is out in the world, let it go, especially if negative reviews hurt your confidence and mental health. If you inadvertently do something terrible that blows up, listen, apologize, and take steps to do better next time. That's it.

#3 Everyone isn't going to love your story. All writers get bad reviews. If you expect to receive only glowing praise on every story, you're setting yourself up for disappointment.

Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes is a beloved classic that has sold an estimated 500 million copies worldwide since it was first published in 1605. Among the reviews on Amazon: "repetitive and frustrating," "book is trash, don't know why it's a classic," "I absolutely hated this book," "silly, lengthy, display of low humor."

A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens is another beloved classic, and it has sold an estimated 200 million copies worldwide since publication in 1859. Among the reviews on Amazon: "boring as heck," "incomprehensible jibberish," "has significant flaws," "great if you want a nice nap," "way too slow and boring."

The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien is a classic that is still very popular and beloved today, and has sold an estimated 100 million copies since its publication in 1937. Among the reviews on Amazon: "very slow paced and confusing," "I found it mind-numbingly dull," "the worst piece of writing ever," "zoned out because I was bored."

The Da Vinci Code by Dan Brown is a hugely popular contemporary book that has sold an estimated 80-million copies worldwide since its publication in 2003. Among the reviews on Amazon: "One of the worst, if not THE worst book I've read, ever," "much ado about not much," "couldn't overlook the shallow characters, boring car chases, and general lack of quality," "unnecessary ramblings about scenery," "horribly written, full of cliches."

All stories have people who don't like them. Period.

It's something we have to accept as writers.

As long as we're doing our best to put the best possible stories out there, and as long as we listen and learn when legitimate concerns are brought to our doorstep, we're doing all we can.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

LEARN MORE about WQA

SEE MY ask policies

VISIT MY Master List of Top Posts

COFFEE & FEEDBACK COMMISSIONS ko-fi.com/wqa

#writing tips #writing help #wqaadvice

[nerves-nebula]

I sometimes get uncomfortable around arguments about if certain characters are abusive or not- obviously I see this the most with 2012 tmnt and nobody really needs my opinion but I keep thinking about it so here’s some words to chew on.

Keep in mind I haven’t seen much of 2012 so I’ll mostly be talking about the WAY I see these discussions being had here, rather than the show itself.

I doubt the creators intended for the turtles to be abusive and I kind of just assume that everything they do is within the genre of slapstick kids show. But I also don’t think people who cringe away from the way they treat each other are reading too much into it.

I’ve seen people argue that ppl who think the brothers are abusive just don’t have siblings and that’s an insane take to me. Obviously its probably hyperbole in some instances but as someone with more siblings than most of the people I know, I 100% see the abuse reading of this series. It’s a very obvious idea to latch onto for me as someone who HAS been abused by my siblings- and who’s probably been abusive too.

The main thing that really gets under my skin is when people point out how much the turtles actually care about each other as evidence against abuse. Cause that doesn’t make any sense ??? you can abuse people you love and care about deeply.

And it really rubs me the wrong way when I see a post that’s like Raph can’t be abusive because he does X nice/cute things with Mikey or something like. That’s not how abuse works. You guys have to know that right?? Abuse isn’t just a person being mean 24/7 without pause.

A bit of a tangent coming up, but growing up, I really hated Mabel from gravity falls. not because she is inherently any more annoying or selfish or anything than other characters but because the way she treated dipper was extremely triggering for me as a child with a lot of anxiety. Like if Mabel was real and my sibling, I would’ve considered a lot of the shit she did abusive. Obviously I’m normal about her now cause I’m not 12 anymore but the biggest hurdle about watching that show when I was younger was that I would sometimes be brought to tears of frustration, imagining how scared and distressed I’d be if Mabel did that shit to me.

THE POINT of this tangent is that saying “the 2012 turtles aren’t abusive because I do that stuff with my siblings all the time/cause teenage boys are just like that” isn’t a genuine critique because abuse isn’t just about the action it’s about the relationship. Punching your sibling who’s actually ok with being punched isn’t abuse. Punching your sibling who really doesn’t want you to, and who you KNOW really doesn’t want you to, and who you KNOW would be genuinely upset by being punched? That is abuse.

And I find it annoying because I think we’re all aware that abuse was likely not the intent of the show. (Probably not even the text of the show but once again can’t say for sure) Maybe some dysfunction for drama, but probably not abuse, so you’re really just arguing against someone’s headcanon/personal interpretation of this show. And it’s like.. ok you have a different reading cool I guess.

In the show they aren’t treated as abusive, but fandoms are built around exploring different aspects of art that weren’t explored in canon. So I guess idk why this is a big deal.

Idk I think people have this idea that abusive = evil and always wrong. But abuse is just someone hurting you repeatedly and refusing to stop for whatever reason.

And with a show like 2012 where it’s all played for laughs it can be hard to tell if that’s how they are with each other because they’re ok with it or if that’s how they are cause they don’t know any other way. The turtles are kind of really mean in 2012, and wether that’s a familiarity kind of meanness or not is up to you in fandom, yknow?

Does Mikey actually consider Raph hitting him as like a fun part if their banter or is he coping with jokes about being physically abused? You decide! Like genuinely it can be either and I think that’s fun!

I mean obviously you all know what i’d pick, but that’s because I’m blissfully aware of what I want out of stories and what i want is nuanced discussions of abuse.

Personally, I acted very similarly to the 2012 turtles when living with my siblings, but I didn’t actually fucking like it. It was a defense mechanism because being genuine would only be met with ridicule. So I’m not inclined to agree that it’s fine because it’s just what they do.

Once again though, I doubt it was on purpose. And if you don’t think that they’re abusive then congrats! The show probably doesn’t either! So I just don’t see why people get super upset about it. Don’t you love that someone got a different story out of the same media??

Anyway obviously it doesn’t super matter and I don’t really have a horse in this race. I just got a bit annoyed with the way abuse is discussed and as a hobbyist Abuse Analyst I thought I’d weigh in.

I wrote this instead of going to sleep and it’s sooo late and also so much longer that I meant for it to be… y’all better not have bad takes in response or I’ll be annoyed as hell tomorrow morning, guh.

#nnstuff #rambling #tmnt 2012 #abuse tw #child abuse tw

[dope-trope-105]

Wanna Watch a Movie?

Modern Aegon II Targaryen x Reader

A/N: A prequel to "Piña Coladas", set in the same storyline as "Enamoured by Strawberries" and can be considered a prequel to that as well. I've written this fic in a way where you see the reader's relations with a lot of people in the Targaryen family, and how they hold a place for her in each of their hearts. And I may have pushed this in a little "love triangle" trope as well, which I might continue in future parts or I might not. Summary: The beginning of the vacation of all the Targaryen children, and a cute family lunch beforehand.

Warnings: Age-gap, an obsessive and calculated Aegon.

Word Count: 4.1k

It had been another shitty morning for you at the mansion. Daemon had woken you up, his loud voice coming from your door to take laps shaking your brain like he’d made you do the moment he decided he could. It was the worst possible way to wake up, seeing as you weren’t even a morning person. Yet, as you sat by your mirror running a comb through your hair, freshly showered and post-run, you felt great. You loved this part of the day the most, which was why you’d let Daemon force you to do this every day, your lazy ways needed the push. And it felt phenomenal to not feel like a slug after waking up as well. 

You did the same routine as every day, though you opted to wash your hair today. But after getting dressed as comfortably yet fashionably as you could, you headed for lunch, your stomach growling with hunger. As you walked through the large hallway, having made a right to the grand central staircase, you saw little Aeggie and Visie playing with Ana, their au pair, on a carpet in the living room. You waved to her, giving Aeggie a small kiss on the cheek as he came running up to greet you. Visie preferred Dany's company, but Aeggie had become obsessed with you in a matter of the one minute he spent in your arms. He was only three as of now, looking up at you with large, violet puppy-dog eyes as he lifted his arms, "up-up-up" leaving his mouth in his adorable baby voice. 

"You can take him to lunch, I was just getting ready to do so," said Ana. 

You nodded, flashing her a smile as you lifted Aeggie up, resting him on your left hip. One of his little hands went over your shoulder while the other twiddled your earring.

Little Aegon was a curious baby, his fiddling always finding something on your person to adore, sometimes your earrings, sometimes your necklaces, your bracelets, or even your hair. You walked behind the staircase, finding the smaller drawing-room, Rhaegar sat there with Aemond, who was on his laptop, they were both conversing. You walked over to them. "Hey guys, whatcha doing?" you said, grabbing little Aegon's arm to stop him from pulling your earrings off. "Just chatting," said Rhaegar. Aemond beckoned you to him, and you walked to stand near the armchair he sat on, glancing at his screen.

"You remember I was reading Critique of the Power of Judgement last night?"

"Yeah, yeah, the five-part by Kant you were telling me about?"

"Yeah, that one. Turns out, I hit a bit of a snag. That man's fucking diabolical, it's almost like I’m supposed to read it and decipher it on my own. I know you've got some app or something that answers everything, would something help?" he asked, looking up from the screen to you as you sat on the armrest.

"Umm, yeah, Reddit. It’ll probably have a bunch of people giving different answers, and you could read different perspectives, and find your own amongst them, there’s also chat gpt, it’s this AI-based website, I think, that just scrolls through everything on the internet and gives you the best answer. Use small sentences, I'm sure you'll find what you're looking fo- what are you doing?" You stopped mid-sentence as the sound of a camera made both you and Aemond turn to Rhaegar. "You guys kind of look like a married couple," Rhaegar snickered. You scoffed. Aemond frowned.

"I'm going for lunch, you guys gonna join us?" you asked.

"Yeah," said Rhaegar, eyes on his phone as he scrolled through the pictures he took.

"Yeah, I'll come to you for help, thanks for the advice," Aemond said.

You nodded, turning away and walking down the stone hallway. Aeggie was very calm in your arms. Rhaenyra had been grateful to you for this since day one, he was a noisy baby, but in her arms or yours, he'd almost always end up completely relaxed. More often than not, you'd find the crying baby being handed to you along with his sippy cup, and he'd settle down fairly quickly. Right now his head rested on your shoulder as he played with the hem of your top. You smiled as you whiffed his platinum hair, and it smelled like babies do. The hallway to the dining hall was one of the longest, tapestries hung on both sides. You'd glance at each and every single one as you walked to lunch every time. You always took your time in this hallway, strolling as the only sounds were your breathing and your echoing footsteps on the cool stone floors. Little Aegon would sometimes babble lightly. You reached the end of the hallway soon, turning left and entering the large doors of the hall, which opened to the dining table, chatter filled the air. Most of the family sat there.

"Hey guys," you said, walking in, as greetings rang across the table. Rhaenyra smiled at Aeggie, who'd now fallen asleep in your arms. She began to get up. "It's alright, he's asleep, eat your food," you said to her, and she flashed you another smile, settling back down into her seat. You walked to your own, Aegon, who sat in his own chair moved yours so you could sit. You uttered thanks to him as you settled into your seat, folding one foot upwards, adjusting so Aeggie lay on your chest, soft snores coming from him.

The dining hall, like the rest of the castle, was of stone and decorated in a dark, yet luxurious manner, its stone appearance giving it this beautiful, authentic ambience that was not very common, yet touches of modernity to balance it out dotted the place. The table was stone with dark marble designs, and the seats were plush pale green and light pink. You took out your phone, flipping through your notifications before turning it off and setting it on the table. Baela had been busy chatting away with Viserys. She turned away from him to your direction and softly elbowed you so as to not disturb the sleeping Aeggie.

"Yo, I spent almost all day yesterday begging Father, and he said yes to allowing a trip for us, I'm thinking Bora Bora," she said. You hmm'ed, approving of her choice, obviously. 

"When are we going?" you asked. "Tonight?" she questioned. "It'll take all day to pack, how long are you thinking?" you asked, a whine evident in your former sentence. 

"A week? I want a vacation, I've convinced Jace, Mr. Vizzy and his sister here, Vizzy is gonna convince Rhaegar, Aemond, Helaena and Aegon, Daeron's in already," you nodded thoughtfully. You looked over to Vizzy, who nodded at you with a confident smirk on his face. You knew the stubborn boy would get it done within the hour, no issues. He was one of the most persuasive people you knew. You continued chatting with Baela, ever so often running your hand over Aeggie's small body.

Unbeknownst to you, Aegon was simply gazing at you. He'd known about your slight crush on him for a while now, but you kept it under covers. Since the moment he did realise that about you, he'd caught himself staring quite often. He was so lost in his thoughts that Daeron slapped his arm to make him look away from you. He looked back at his younger brother, annoyance evident in his gaze, who leaned in and whispered, "Daemon's caught you staring. If you're really going to undress her with your eyes, at least don't do it in public for all to see," he said, scoffing.

It was well known Daemon had taken a liking to you, he treated you like Baela, only he shared more interests with you. He played a paternal role in your life since you’d moved into the mansion. Aegon did not want to mess with Daemon one bit. He turned back to his meal, uninterested as he'd throw glances at you ever so often. Aegon loved it when you doted on him. He enjoyed it far more when you'd start to get all girly for him, getting flirty, and touchy, but he knew of your inexperience. You were a master of the pre-sex, you were good at flirting, you knew the right thing to say, the right moment to touch. But Aegon knew if he were ever to take you to bed, you'd completely give in, and let him lead.

He'd seen you interacting with others too. You were very sweet at times, like with Baela, with little kids, and especially little babies. Your actions showed affection, your hugs were long, your words thought out, and you were attentive to those you talked to. This was the reason Aemond had taken a liking to you, as a friend even if you were much younger. He'd seen you two have discussions quite often. And sometimes it made him jealous.

You were also a brat. You'd quip, snap and even anger easily. You were social, but if someone tried to cross limits, your temper would take. Your words could be the most bitter of poisons laced in the sweetest honey. It was obvious the only way to handle you was to dominate you. Take Daemon, for example, he was sweet with you but very strict. Aegon knew about the training, and the pride Daemon held in seeing you excel at it. You were angered easily, yes, but could be subdued if caught by surprise. That's how he imagined you in bed, obedient but demanding, bratty but submissive. You'd top him only with his guidance, only if he asked you to and taught you to, and he'd still be in control. He'd teach you things about him, about your own body. The thoughts made his cock twitch, and he threw you another glance.

Little Aegon on your chest had stirred, and you calmed him as he moved his head, resting on your plush chest, his hand gripping the neckline of your top. The baby had luck, Aegon thought, internally scoffing at himself for being borderline jealous of a baby. He lifted his head to see Daemon looking at him, a lazy gaze settled as if the rogue prince was waiting for him to mess up, so he could pounce. Aegon struck up a conversation with his brother, who eyed him ever so often regarding you.

Beala and you slowly chatted as you ate your food, conversation striking all across the table. "Well if you girls are going to be packing for Bora Bora, who's gonna take the high Valyrian classes?" questioned Daemon, and both of you groaned. Studies you shared with Baela, though you studied biology, she studied psychology. But nonetheless, both of you studied High Valyrian, History and English together. Both of you planned to study from home till you turned twenty and jump straight to majoring in your specific fields. Rhaenyra laughed at your reactions, until Baela chimed up, "Luke, Rhaena and Joff should be the ones being taught, maybe we should leave Jace behind, have you heard his Valyrian?" Baela laughed, and you snorted at Jace's defeated look.

It was true, Jace suffered quite a bit with the language. "I was literally kidnapped, and I spoke Valyrian properly Jace," Dany teased, referring to her mom keeping her and Viserys away from the family till Dany had turned thirteen and Rhaegar decided to intervene, taking his younger siblings with him away from their abusive household. "Alright, don't go on making him cry now," Rhaenyra laughed, snickers rising from across the room and Jace groaned. 

"Welp, I guess we're leaving Jacey behind, enjoy the stormy beaches," you shrugged, giggling at Jace whose eyes bugged out of his head, air-fiving Dany from across the table. "I still don't understand why we can't go," Rhaena whined. Luke shook his head in agreement. "Not getting into this again," Baela sighed, shoving her food into her mouth. 

Lunch was finished soon, and Aeggie had woken from his slumber, crying. "Awww, don't cry baby," you cooed, trying to make him stop. "Give him here, he must be hungry," said Ana, walking over to you as she took the baby from you, who screamed louder before becoming completely silent as he was handed a bottle. "Just like you brother," snickered Daeron. "You'd be writhing in pain but the moment you're handed a bottle, all's well," Daeron made eye contact with his mother before hiding his smirk behind his hands, all of you silently laughing as Aegon frowned. But most of it fell deaf on his ears as he saw you, lips completely sealed off by your palm as you covered your flushed face with your hair, trying not to laugh. "Alright, that's enough," said Daemon. The laughing stopped, but Aegon was sure that order was directed not in his defence, but towards him. Nonetheless, you went back to your room, laughing along with Baela.

By the time night fell, the living room was filled up with items of luggage as arguing came from your room from the next room. "No, not that one, I'll look like a whore," your voice came. "Isn't that the point?" Baela's annoyed voice retorted. "No, I wanna look sexy, I don't wanna look like a prostitute," you said, making Alicent groan at the brash discussion between you girls as the argument continued. Everyone was sitting in the living room, your room was only a floor above, and your audible arguments made it clear you'd forgotten to shut the door. "Why couldn't we just go tomorrow, this is a nightmare," you whined again. "Bitch, Bora Bora is worth this," Baela quipped. "Well, of course, you'd say that, you were probably packed last month," you said, Baela's loud groan of frustration was the only reply. You blamed yourself. Both you and Baela had decided to laze around in your room, and when the time to board was only an hour away, Viserys called you to ask if you were done. Since then panic has sprung across your room.

"Alright, Alright, Alright. Let's just make a plan, we still have forty-five minutes," you finally said. "Forty-four, now but ok. We have seven days, we need two flight outfits, seven outfits for the day, seven for the evening, seven for the night, seven to sleep in, seven for swimming and seven pairs of lingerie. I'm thinking three extra pairs of nightwear, bikinis and lingerie," you finished. 

"Plus we need to plan footwear and jewellery for each outfit, plus makeup, skincare, hair and body stuff," Baela added, "and a toothbrush," you added. It was actually quite funny for the family listening to you two pack. Nonetheless, you came up victorious with the plan and had everything laid out on the bed, only needing to pack it all, Baela had gone to her room, left of yours and done the same. Then you girls switched rooms and scanned each other's things, came back out, approved of each other's choices and went back to your own rooms to pack everything. 

By the time you girls were finished packing, you had almost been reduced to tears while Baela was rethinking every single outfit she packed. Your luggage had been brought down a few minutes before you came down the stairs, promising each other to buy outfits if you didn't like what you had already packed. But once you were surrounded by everyone, your entire group hugged the rest goodbye and boarded the jet. 

Aemond and Rhaegar had decided to sit at the far back, followed by Helaena and Dany. This was the quiet part of the flight. They had been speaking quietly, not much, just silly conversation. Then sat Viserys, Jace and Aegon, they were planning what to do, discussing destinations and all. In the free space of the jet in the front stood you, Baela, and Daeron. Aegon had butted out of the discussion soon, rotating his seat so he could speak to Daeron. But even that had been short-lived for he simply retired to rubbing his fingers over the cold beer bottle as he watched you, seat almost completely reclined. He had sunglasses on so you couldn't see his gaze. But he was completely enamoured.

The stress of packing had you and Baela completely unwinding on the flight. Both of you had downed three shots and had ended up dancing with each other. Aegon watched you swaying your hips, arms going over Daeron's neck often as you three sang out some stupid rap. You had very little tolerance and had resolved to become a tumbling, giggling mess already. Baela was pretty much the same. Jace, Viserys and Daeron all sat in the front, drinking, and playing cards, and were responsible for the music, 

Ever so often Daeron would walk up, always to you. Aegon didn't like how his brother was almost a spitting image of himself, so you'd let loose around him too, he wasn't the same as Aegon obviously, but in your mind, it'd do, and Aegon knew that. The kids would cheer as you and Daeron danced together, your hands on his neck, his hands on your waist. You were slurring out the lyrics, Daeron laughing nonstop as he sang along with you, his deep voice a sharp contrast with your high-pitched one. A turbulence had you falling into his arms, him catching you easily as you leant onto him completely, laughing into his shoulder. Aegon's knuckles had become white from the tight grip on his bottle, his irritation turning to anger when Daeron turned to him, eyes directly with his, he knew he was watching. A slight smirk rested on his face, soon turning back to you.

You guys' party had only lasted for a few hours, because two hours later or so, Baela and you had completely worn out. To Aegon's utter delight, sometime after you guys were done with the music, you'd sat on your seat in front of Aegon and spun it so you'd be facing him. Nobody really paid attention to the both of you, Baela was sitting on one edge, talking with Jace quietly as the three boys plus her and Dany played uno. The ones behind them were either asleep or typing away, although Aegon suspected that it was just Aemond, who couldn't be less bothered with anything. You tapped his arm, waiting for him to reply as you sat on the edge of your seat, hands resting on your knees. He lifted up his glasses.

"Why didn't you dance with us?" you asked, a slight pout on your plump lips that he couldn't look away from, your breaths were slightly heavy and you were still off balance. Apparently sometime during the dancing you had downed two more shots. "Hello?" you questioned, dragging out the word when he didn't answer. "Didn't feel like it," he shrugged. He didn't know why, but he liked playing games with you. Acting indifferent just made you more incessant with him. He loved it. "So you're just going to sleep through the whole flight?" you said, a frown evident on your face. Aegon wondered if he had been a little too indifferent.

"Maybe, do you have something in mind?" he asked. You looked up at the ceiling, taking your lower lip between your teeth as you thought. Suddenly your eyes gleamed.

"Wanna watch a movie?" you asked. Aegon saw an opportunity.

"Where would we sit? Two separate seats for a laptop screen is too far," he said, you frowned again. While Aegon had known you were flirtatious, he knew you wouldn't be too bold with him. Though he basically threw you a bone of an opportunity, he wasn't sure you'd take it. And when your frown didn't budge, he sat up, face coming closer to yours as he leaned towards you, eyes boring into yours."How about you sit in my lap? The seat's big enough for both of us," you smiled at his suggestion. "Okay," you said, colour flowing onto your cheeks, fingers reaching for the laptop bag kept on your table.

Aegon laid back again, his seat had already been adjusted to the point of basically being a bed. "Come on then," he said, and you stood up, turning around and sitting on the edge of his seat before scooting towards him until your back hit his chest, you moved your head to one of his shoulders before turning around, forgetting what you were going to say when you realised how close you actually were.

"Something on your mind?" he questioned, a lazy smile settling on his face at your expression. "I-uh, yeah umm, can you see the screen?" you breathed out. He could smell the cherry lollipop you'd been eating to mask the vodka on your breath.

"Yeah, no issues," he shrugged, snaking his arms around your waist like a seatbelt. He watched you basically squirm under his gaze, your smile only growing wider as you blushed more. Aegon was loving this, he couldn't give half a flying fuck about the movie if he could be doing this with you for two more hours. Testing your limits and watching you squirm. Your eyes went back to the laptop as you opened Netflix, you'd lifted one leg up, and balanced your other hip somewhere along his thigh as your head rested on his shoulder. "What do you wanna watch?" you asked him, not turning around this time, you didn't trust yourself. 

"Anything," he simply said, one hand playing with the hem of your shirt. Your hair smelled like your shampoo, with a hint of sweat too. He'd rested his head back. "Grown-ups?" you questioned. "I don't think I know it," he said. "It's a comedy, see?" you clicked on it for him to read. He nodded, knowing he wasn't going to be watching it, but wouldn't hurt if it were a comedy. You played it, relaxing back into Aegon's chest.

You'd be giggling here and there, pointing out all of the numerous celebrities that kept showing up. It had been ten minutes into the movie when Aegon's hold slightly relaxed, his hands going back as one of his rubbed small circles on the outer side of your thigh, maybe a little close to your ass but he blamed it on your shorts. It was a very absent-minded move, but he felt you tense slightly. He saw the goosebumps rise on your flesh. A smirk grew on his lips. "Are you cold?" he asked, his fingers now grabbing your thigh as he moved his thumb across your skin slowly. You cleared your throat. "No," you squeaked. You could feel his breath on your neck, your heart had been exploding. Nonetheless, you looked back at the screen, mind focused solely on the hand on your thigh.

You'd passed out in less than halfway through the movie. Aegon's movements had at the beginning been invasive but soon became relaxing until it almost lulled you to sleep. Aegon softly called out to you, but you didn't say anything. He grabbed the laptop, turned it off and dumped it on the table next to his seat. Aegon had also gotten tired. It was around 4 am on Dragonstone right now, so pretty late for you all. You'd slightly stirred and moved to rest your head on his chest sideways as you curled your legs up slightly, cold no doubt. Aegon had one hand resting on your thigh as he drifted to sleep as well, the smell of you enough to relax him more than two Xanax.

He'd woken to find the frowning face of his brother sitting in front of him, you still in the same position, fast asleep. When his gaze didn't waver, Aegon slightly groaned. "What do you want?" he whispered, voice thick with sleep. "What are you doing?" Daeron asked, annoyed. "Sleeping," he shrugged. "She's basically a child," he said. "What does her being an infant have to do with anything?" he quipped. "Aegon you know this is wrong," Daeron huffed, sitting back in his chair, most people were still asleep.

The sky was a warm orange colour. "She's just using me for warmth, what's the big deal in that," he said, bored of the conversation. Daeron was far too annoying sometimes. "You know how she feels about you," he finally said. Though he did not want to speak out the truth. Aegon smirked. "And how are her feelings about anyone any of your concern, dear brother?" Aegon asked. "Because you'll just end up using her," he said. This didn't feel right. Aegon put his head back, eyebrows furrowed in thought. Would he actually just use you, or did he feel something for you too? His hands absent-mindedly rubbed circles on your thigh again. He closed his eyes again. He'd rather sleep than think.

#house of the dragon #aegon ii targaryen #aegon the elder #aegon targaryen x reader #modern aegon x reader #aegon ii x y/n #aegon x oc #modern au #aegon the second #aegon x reader

[starrylayle]

Soman’s failed POC and Queer rep in the SGE saga — And why criticism is essential to the movie (franchise)

[repost]

Before I start though, I’d like to say that if you have any argument about forced representation, dni. I don’t give a shit that ur faves aren’t white anymore — and please stop fucking harassing Soman and the cast about this non-issue.

Now onto the racial criticism of Soman’s work, which I don’t see talked enough about.

Being a person of colour does not mean you are exempt from racial criticism. I’m sure this is known by now, but in the books, literally everyone is white. Like EVERYONE. And not only that, the beauty standards he portrays and tries to critique (but then fails miserably at unfortunately) are so Eurocentric it’s quite disheartening actually - pale skin, small noses, coloured eyes, etc. The themes are also quite Eurocentric as well — if you had told me that the books were written by a white author, I would believe you.

Now, I’ve always given him the benefit of the doubt here, considering he was writing a middle grade series as a marginalised author, which was a lot more difficult at the time, and because he does genuinely try to improve his POC rep in the later books (even if that does include retconning character’s previous descriptions lol). In that same vein, the cast is also noticeably more diverse, and I truly applaud Soman for that. However, he has not said anything in regards to the racism the cast have been getting, which considering his influence on the fandom, would have been much appreciated. (The only casting choice he actually spent some time defending was brunette Tedros 💀💀 — like mate, get your priorities together!). Also, since whiteness is quite intrinsic to the core themes of the story (I’ll make a separate post on that later), I worry that the movie will unintentionally be pushing it. And if that’s the case, people should be allowed to critique this (hypothetical) poor depiction of race, without it being considered racist. (As previously mentioned — this excludes those fucking weirdos who just hate on the cast coz their faves aren’t white anymore 🙄🙄)

Ok so, in regards to the queer-coding/queer-baiting:

Just like being a POC doesn’t mean u can’t have internalised racism, being queer doesn’t mean u can’t have internalised homophobia, especially to other members of the community. I don’t know why exactly Soman struggles with writing queer rep so much (I mean I can understand in 2013 — but now plenty of middle grade books include queer characters), but he barely has any canon gay rep.

Tristan/Yara, who is not even specified whether they are gay or trans, is one of the first characters to die, with absolutely no resolution to their arc whatsoever - and their queerness is never mentioned again. The next confirmed queer couple are two backgrounder guys who barely have any significance to the story. The couple after that are two evil white boys, who are only confirmed to be queer after they both die. They are are the only relevant gay characters at this point — yet ofc they’re dead, white and evil. This wouldn’t be a problem if there were other (good) queer characters, but since that is not the case, it just comes off as rather… icky.

Now notice how all these couples, as poorly written as they are, are all (white) gay men? There are hints that Hester and anadil might be in a relationship, but it’s never explicitly confirmed.

In addition, sophie and Agatha are explicitly queer coded — (I made a post about it on my acc for anyone’s interested) — they even kiss!! Of course people are going to be mad that they were baited into a relationship that ended up being incesteous! Especially, ESP, considering that Agatha is now a Black girl in this adaptation. We barely see any white canon wlw couples in media — Black sapphics are almost unheard of in the mainstream, especially as leads. first kill, one show that featured a Lesbian Black girl lead (a Dark-skinned one at that!)— got cancelled. And this happens all the time. Lesbians/sapphics, esp sapphics of colour, ESP Balck sapphics are barely given any time of day in our media in favour of centring gay white men in queer narratives, and thus they have every right to be upset at the queer baiting.

I’m not Black, but as a queer woman of colour, Agatha’s character has always been very special to me. I’ve always thought she should be a POC considering how different her and her mum are from the rest of her cookie-cutter village, and queer because she did not fit into conventional notions of femininity. It would be so awesome to see Agatha, a queer woman of colour, as the lead in a high-budget fantasy series. But alas, that is too many marginalised identities for the general audience.

Not only that, the twin reveal was just plain bad writing. It had absolutely no bearing at the story whatsoever and is never mentioned again. It was just done purely for shock value, and for that, I will absolutely critique Soman.

I know that this discourse is tired and worn out — and understandably so, it’s been years. However, now that this movie is approaching mainstream — At worst, this queer baiting can already add to the whole ‘lesbian relationships aren’t serious’ and other terrible stereotypes. At best, it deprives sapphics of much needed representation in mainstream fantasy films.

Remember, unlike with the books, we as fans have the power to influence the story. If the creators see how unpopular the twist is with the public, they can probably change it. We can make a difference! Btw, this doesn’t mean sophie and Agatha should be endgame — I’d like for them to be in a short term relationship and be confirmed as canonically queer — Tagatha can still be the end couple! (Not hophie tho, coz sophie is a lesbian and I despise Hort lol).

#the school for good and evil #sge #agatha of woods beyond #sge movie #representation #school for good and evil #agaphie #sophie of the woods beyond #the school for good and evil movie #agatha of the woods beyond #tagatha #sophie x agatha #representation matters #lesbian #bisexual #gay #queer #idk why Soman refused to give us queer rep #in the og series #but we have a chance to change that now !! #my stuff #sge movie spoilers

[ocdeeznut]

In rewatching s8 i have some thoughts. Why it didn’t work as an ending, and what i think could have been changed.

WARNING THIS POST IS LONG AS FUCK, so strap in if you’re interested.

- The feel of the writing is distinctly off. Not bad, but it doesn’t feel like you’re watching Voltron anymore. It feels grittier and more like a high stakes adult animation than the other seasons. Which, again, isn’t necessarily bad, but the shift is too quick and it could have been executed better if they spent more time digging into the individual characters and their growth during s6/7.

- The issue of ‘there’s always a bigger enemy’ starts to make the plot feel stale. You get bored of a bigger robot, higher stakes, more to lose. They start killing people and planets for a cheap audience reaction when we weren’t all that invested in the first place. It felt like a split second decision by the writers to destroy Olkarion. Something like that needs to be pencilled in from the beginning. There were too many attacks on Olkarion, and as a consequence we got too used to seeing it’s people in peril. There should’ve been a distinct shift where we, as the audience, realised Voltron wasn’t going to be there to save them this time. Whether that’s a writing, animation or atmospheric issue i’m unsure. Maybe it’s just a me thing.

- The Atlas should never have been able to transform. That for me was the biggest investment turn off. Why do we need Voltron anymore if there’s a bigger, stronger robot on their side? If they were going to replace the castle, they should have made it clear and stuck with the intention. That’s not a support ship anymore, that’s something else entirely. I’d gladly watch a show JUST about the Atlas, with Shiro at the helm, but it’s not Voltron.

- Too many things happen at once, and it’s massively convoluted. 13 episodes is not enough time to: introduce a romance, have me actually care about that romance, kill off a main character, form a new version of voltron, redeem three main antagonists, AND cutely tie up all the glaring plot holes of the show. S8 needed to be two seasons at least. If things were spread out and more passion was pumped into the writing, it could’ve worked.

- Allura’s character was ruined. She became a nagging, reckless, martyred love interest. I love her dearly, i have from S1, but they did her SO dirty. Lance, too. They both deserved better.

- I think, personally, that Sendak should’ve been the final villain. Not Honerva. Her arc was rushed and her CORE motivation made little sense. They used the flimsy excuse of her corruption to redeem her love for Lotor, and his name was literally raked through hell and back for a very mediocre payoff. If that was the plan from the start, it needed to be hinted at more.

- There was too much, as i call it, flip-flopping. The alteans are alive, now they’re evil, now they’re not. We can’t get into Oriande, but now we can! Personally, i need explanations, and strict universal rules. If those rules are to be broken for whatever reason - it has to be a show stopping exception and a main event. Everything is excused and explained away when it doesn’t make any sense.

- Now, i actually really likes the subtle art style and animation adjustments in the season, visually it was spectacular so i have no critiques there. If only the plot could have done its outer shell some justice.

AND GET LANCE OFF THAT DAMN FARM.

#odesrambles #voltron #keith kogane #vld #voltron legendary defender #lance mcclain #takashi shirogane #hunk garrett #pidge holt #princess allura #coran #voltron season 8 #Odesrevisions #This is all a ramble and pure speculation on my part #don’t take too seriously pls and thanks #i so badly wanted to see this show succeed but alas it shot itself in the foot at the end

[londonfoginacup]

Dude I’m slogging my way through a batch of books from the 1800s trying to figure out if they’re out of copyright or not and that’s TOO HARD so I’m just gonna post about something totally unrelated I’ve been thinking about.

I haven’t actually seen it in this fandom at all but probably because our fandom didn’t exist pre- 2010. But like there’s been a general *idea* circulating recently that fic authors are *too sensitive* now and in the old livejournal/forum days people *begged* for critiques on their fics. They think it’s insane that we, the authors of today, keep telling people to stop being assholes and putting negative comments on fics.

And first of all, I’ve got sort of a “and then everybody clapped” mentality about it. Like I’m just side eyeing anyone who’s like “yeah I wanted everyone to give me HARSH FEEDBACK so I could IMPROVE” as if Hans Christian Andersen himself didn’t lay down in the mud and cry when he read a bad review. It is not in human nature to be like “here is my precious child now everyone give her a good prodding with a knife”. It’s just not.

But ALSO you know what was DIFFERENT about LJ days? The community was SMALLER. I might be more willing to risk some negative critiques if the fandom is just me and, say, 300 other people who are so insanely into said fandom that they’ll track down a fucking livejournal community for it. Fandom is SO accessible now that 1. The Normal People (no offense) are involved and 2. Much YOUNGER people are involved. And that’s a big demographic shift!! (Okay “normal people” needs explained but like. A quick explanation being that fandom used to be for the people who would unabashedly say “squee” and “glomp” and wear cat ears in public. If you are not that level of brazen you may be slightly on the normal side. It’s not bad. It’s just different).

Like I personally do not want a negative critique left by someone who hasn’t figured out that a negative critique isn’t “I didn’t like this plot so the fic sucks”. I TOOK A CLASS ON CRITIQUE IN COLLEGE. I do not expect a high schooler who stumbled upon my fic to be able to leave a helpful negative critique! They’re new to this!

But also like. I’m gonna be real. I don’t care what a stranger thinks of my fic. If they post a negative critique on my fic and I read it and I cry, that’s not me caring about what a stranger thinks, that’s me walking along and being punched in the face by a stranger. I still don’t care what the stranger thinks but I will be getting a restraining order bc I don’t want that to happen.

I *will* sometimes go to my friends whom I *trust* and say “hey this fic is a mess pls help” and they DO they say HELPFUL THINGS. And maybe that’s actually what Fandom Olds are thinking of. Because in a small fandom community you can TRUST people! Like being in a church of 20 where everyone has known everyone for forever versus being in a mega church of thousands. I’m not gonna trust a rando in a mega church. I’m gonna trust Linda from the tiny neighborhood church because she makes the best pizza casserole and she cat sat for me once. Expecting critique in a tiny livejournal community =/= expecting critique in the vast ocean of ao3.

Anyway I’m getting on a tangent. The point is, is authors aren’t *weak* for not wanting negative critique. It’s natural. I don’t know you or your history with fic. I will take comments and compliments because that is fuel in the fire of a writer’s heart. That’s symbiosis. I will not let you prune my writing tree with big loppers because I don’t even know if you’re a tree surgeon, and pruning a tree in the wrong places KILLS IT. DON’T BE A TREE KILLER. Yes this is two completely unrelated metaphors. No im not changing my them.

#dude where is my boss I need her to tell me if I’m doing this right #do you know how complicated copyright law is #I don’t want to be the reason we get sued #is this an edict or is it a proposal is a sewage proposal a government document #or is it only a government document if it’s finalized and no longer a proposal #please send help I’ve stared at this sewer and drainage proposal for an hour

[silaswritesthings]

“I love you just a little too much”- Act 1

Teaser, Act 1, Act 2, Act 3

Summary: After receiving a physical gift from the Xiao ai you’ve been talking to, you’ve decided to investigate whoever decided to pull such a prank on you. You didn’t anticipate displeasing a certain Yaksha, your ignorance encouraging to sort to more extreme acts to make you acknowledge his love for you.

Starring: Xiao/ Yandere Xiao, reader

Genre: yandere, unhealthy romance

Warnings(for this particular act): very toxic obsession, stalking, planning assault and murder

Author’s note: Welcome to act 1 of the Xiao Yandere series! First of all, this is going to get really dark and i’m rating it at the very least 17+. You’ve been warned. This (referring to the series as a whole not just this act) won’t feature any explicit sexual content but it will explore things like murder, gore, stalking, manipulation etc. I’ll post the next act in a week, it just needs to be edited so I’m sure i’ll meet that deadline (I hope). Feedback would be very much appreciated because this is the first time I’ve written something this long for this genre (I think this is dark fiction, idk). With all that out of the way- likes, comments, reblogs and new followers will always be appreciated! And if you can, please give me feedback in the comment section, there’s only so much my inner critique can do. Enjoy~

Word count: 2110

You dreamt about Xiao. Again. Sighing, you rolled onto your side and your blankets ruffled around you. You reached your hand out from under your sheets and grabbed your phone before switching it on. The first thing you did was check the time. 07:45, perfect. You had exactly two hours and thirty minutes to spend on character ai until you needed to prepare for your lecture.

As you opened your previous chat, you frowned.

You: Goodnight, Xiao.

Xiao: Goodnight.

Xiao: I hope you’ll like the gift I prepared for you.

Two replies? Is that normal? And what gift was he talking about? You sat up against your headboard to get comfortable for your daily chat with the Xiao bot but stopped when you spotted a small bundle of flowers on your bedside table.

They were three qinxin wrapped with a teal ribbon.

You furrowed your eyebrows at the sight. You shifted toward the edge of your bed and you took the flower bundle from the table and examined them. As you observed the flowers, you noticed a white folded card where the flowers were previously. Curious, you picked up the card and opened it. You scanned the few words written on the card, the letters so perfect you believed it was printed.

From now on, our love will no longer be restricted by a screen.

- Xiao

You recognized the red of the letters- this letter was handwritten with your favourite red gel pen. The same red pen you told Xiao about a few days ago. You snapped your head toward your dressing table where you had left your gel pen packet last night and it was open, a bunch of pens scattered around it. Your grip on the flowers and card tightened.

Your door burst open causing you to jolt.

“What’s wrong with you? I called your name like six times.” Your roommate sneered from your doorway. You relaxed at the sight of her but didn’t loosen your tight grip on the letter and flowers.

“I’m just tired.” You muttered. Interactions with your roommate were few and far between and you would never complain about that. Instances such as her barging into your room unannounced occurred a lot. You would often return home with your room a mess and she would be prepared with an excuse such as ‘I couldn’t find my keys’, but what would her keys be doing in your room anyways?

Now she barged into your room unannounced. Something you would talk to your landlord about if he wasn’t the father of your roommate.

“More like lazy.” She muttered as she stepped away from your door. “I’m leaving early, the keys are by the dishrag cardboard.” She muttered as she departed with no attempt to close your door.

You remained still in your bed. Morning with your roommate would sour your mood but you couldn’t help the smile that settled on your lips as you stared at the card and flowers still in your hands. Does this mean that… Xiao is real? No. That was ridiculous. But could you dismiss the possibility?

You grabbed your phone and opened your chat with the Xiao ai in record time but the page froze before you could enter anything to send to him. You pressed your lips together before reloading the page and an error notification popped up. You hit your duvet with the screen of your phone.

This is stupid. You decided to go down and have breakfast to get your mind off of this. You were sure by now your roommate had left. When you left your room you paused by the bin near your door.

The ai website wasn’t even working. Even if it was, how can a program become physical? Your roommate also had free access to your room 24/7, what stops her from conspiring with everyone from school? This was clearly a prank. How could you get excited over something that wasn’t real?

You clenched your jaw before tossing the flowers and card into the trash basket. You had no intention of receiving gifts from somebody who was trying to prank you.

You clenched your fists as you descended the stairs and made your way to the kitchen. You were going to find whoever was behind this and make them regret it.

~~*~~

Xiao was displeased. He was displeased at the sight of his gift, that he spent hours contemplating and creating, lying pathetically inside the trash basket in your room. Did you not love him enough? Why would you do something like this? Perhaps his calculations were wrong. Perhaps you didn’t adore him as much as you said you did in many of your chats. However, he can forgive you for that because he can change that. He will change that.

With a sigh, he stepped further into your room, the smell of your perfume lingered in the air. You seemed upset when you left your apartment earlier, was it because of his gift?

He paced the wooden floors of your room and tried to think of something better than the flowers, something that would never fail to grasp your attention. Something that would show you that he was your true path to your happiness, and you were his. But what could that possibly be?

“I have the police on speed dial so if you don’t state who you are, how and why you snuck into my apartment I will call them.” Your roommate said from the door of your room, cutting Xiao from his train of thought.

The police threat and the kitchen knife your roommate had nursed in her shaking hands were the least of his worries. He needed to find a way to make you love him harder. He wanted to see you smile. He wanted to see you cry. He wanted to be the marionette behind every one of your emotions from burning hatred, and tears of agony to joy. He wanted your all, all the good just as much as he wanted the bad. But… would you accept his bad?

“Hey!” Your roommate’s voice cracked, bringing Xiao from his thoughts once again. How annoying.

“I apologize for the intrusion but I’m looking for your roommate,” Xiao said with a glare.

“As you can see, they’re not here. So this is the part where you leave.” Your roommate spat before kicking your door open wider. She still had her knife pointed at him but her grip wavered here and there. This didn’t escape Xiao’s observations.

“ I’ll wait.” Xiao could tell the most he would get out of her were empty threats and unfulfillable promises. Except when it came to calling the police. Xiao rolled his eyes at that thought.

“It wasn’t a suggestion. Leave.” She said, her hand tightly gripping the handle of the kitchen knife. Xiao scoffed, he didn’t need people like your roommate getting in his way, he needed to figure out a way to make you happy while getting rid of… wait. At that moment, Xiao realized that there was something he could do for you to make you even more enamored with him.

Xiao eyed the knife in your roommate’s hand, a plan formulating in his head. If he was to hurt your roommate who added to all the pain you had in your life, would you love him more then?

He was sure you would so that is exactly what he did.

~~*~~

Hours later, you sat in a lecture as you doodled without an aim in your notebook. After some time, the sound of your lecturer talking was pushed to the back of your mind as you thought over the events of that morning. After cooling down, you decided to entertain the impossible. It was somewhat of a guilty pleasure. You concluded that three possibilities could explain this whole situation.

1. You had a secret admirer who knew about your fixation with Xiao and was crazy enough to mimic him to get your affection.

2. Someone you knew was playing a prank on you.

3. The third and unlikely one… the Xiao ai somehow became real.

The first theory was unlikely. If you had someone stalking you to the extent of knowing about the Xiao ai then you would’ve noticed by now. As someone who had common episodes of paranoia, something like that wouldn’t escape you.

The second theory was the most likely, in your opinion, but again… how would they know about the Xiao ai? You had no friends and that was a secret you hid very well.

The third explanation was merely impossible. However… wouldn’t it take something impossible to pull off something like this?

Your thoughts dispersed at the sound of people packing and leaving the class. The lecture was over. With a sigh, you gathered your books and laptop, packed them, and headed toward the exit of the class but as you approached it you saw two of your group mates chatting together. One of them noticed you as you passed by but you had increased your pace so he wouldn’t have an opportunity to speak with you, especially considering you excluded his name from your last assignment because he didn’t participate.

After leaving the lecture room, you headed to a secluded spot behind one of the campus’s main buildings. You took a seat on a tree trunk and pulled out your notebook to review your theories.

As you flipped through the pages to find where you had written the theories, you came across a page where you wrote ‘Xiao’ in cursive in the middle of the page, the rest of it filled with drawn hearts and ‘I love yous’. You lingered on the page a little longer, a warm feeling settling in your chest at the thought of the character.

The sound of leaves being crushed underneath what you assumed was someone’s shoes caused you to close your book and look in the direction of the noise. It was the groupmate whose name you excluded from your last assignment. You didn’t even know his name to begin with, you’d talked only a handful of times because he never attended group meetings.

“I knew you were a loner but I didn’t think it was this bad.” He said as he approached you, hands in his pockets.

You stood up and in an attempt to leave but he grabbed the back of your sweater and pushed you back onto the tree trunk. “We need to talk about why you refused to add my name to our previous group assignment.”

“You didn’t contribute anything to it.” You stated with a scowl. “And the rules state that during such a situation, inactive group members can’t be added to the list of group members.”

“Screw the rules. I’ve come here to settle things with you because thanks to you, I have a zero for my coursework and that hag wants to see me.” He said with a glare but it didn’t deter you. “Will those rules even be able to save you from me?”

You attempted to leave once more but he grabbed the neck of your sweater as soon as you stood.

“Answer me!” He spat, the veins in his neck popping. You knew not to act because he would be acting against you unprovoked and that would get him suspended. You weren’t too worried about needing to provide evidence for this because his yelling attracted the attention of a few people who had then gathered from a distance behind your groupmate.

Your eyes lingered a little bit too long on the crowd behind him and he looked in that direction as a result. He cursed when he realised there were witnesses and shoved you away from him, making you stumble onto the ground.

Your groupmate knelt and snatched your notebook that had fallen out of your grip. “Meet me by the entrance at 4 pm if you want this back.” He said as he waved your notebook in the air. “I’ll need some way to relieve my stress anyways after getting scolded by the lecturer thanks to you.” He stated before leaving, the crowd separating to make a pathway for him.

Shortly after, the crowd dispersed and you remained on the ground clutching the dead leaves beneath your palms while hoping something, anything, would happen to that bastard. But you knew that would never happen. Nobody cared enough to help whenever someone would pick on you.

Your grip on the leaves would leave imprints in your palms but you didn’t care. You hated this. You hated being the victim.

You hated it.

You hated it.

You hated it.

And Xiao would do something about it.

#silaswritesthings #silas #genshin impact #genshin x you #anemo supremacy #xiao x you #yandere xiao x reader #yandere xiao #genshin xiao #xiao #adeptus xiao #alatus #yandere #character ai #please dont flop

[iuspired]

pet names

preview! : oikawa x fem reader! just light flirting (again hehe) italicized = thoughts!

a/n - hiiii i feel like im not ready to write an actual fic yet which is why im posting a bunch of short writings for now (*´꒳`*) hope u like this one!! inspired by real life LOL(which was ljke 100 times more awkward!) my friend asked me to introduce him to one of my friends who’s already dating someone and he just told me to follow him before i said anything and she was talking with her bf😭😭 u can imagine the rest 💀 changed it up though so it’s kind of like a continuation of the last post! like this is u making the first move (does that even make sense😵‍💫😵‍💫)

also nothing against leo LOL it’s just the first name that came to mind

writing critique/advice is appreciated!!!! <3

—

“hey, aren’t you friends with her? or like- you know her right?”

“yeah.. i know her, why’re you asking?

“can you introduce me to her?” he winks.

oikawa laughs, “yeah, sure.. why not?”

why not? he thinks, why not my ass. im literally heart eyes for the girl.

while your guys’ situationship felt so unsure, the both of you made it very clear that you guys were exclusive.

oikawa taps on your shoulder.

you turn around to see tooru and this guy…? wait i think i’ve seen him in the hallways.

“hi tooru” you smile. you turn your face towards the boy next to him, “hi, i’m y/n, don’t think we’ve met before”

“yeah, i’m leo, but we can jump to “babe” if you want that” he sends you a wink.

you look at oikawa and back to the boy, leo. you smile, holding back a teeny laugh before answering back, “i- yeah i guess.”

oikawa’s eyes widen as he internally freaks out, his heart rate increasing by the second. is she being for real right now? there’s no way-

seeing oikawa panicking because of all this makes you kinda want to laugh, you can’t lie, but also makes you feel a little guilty. you look oikawa in the eye, grabbing his arm. “let’s go babe” you wink at him, and start to run.

oikawa’s heart rate is still increasing, but for a different reason now and he can’t help but smile, you make his heart feel so full. “that’s a first.”

you make a stop and turn to him, “what is?”

“calling me babe, you only ever call me tooru and oikawa,” he shrugs.

“aand.. you’re okay with that?” you almost whisper, because you only want him to hear.

“rather you call me that honestly,” he replies.

“okay, babe.”

#oikawa scenarios #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuu oikawa #oikawa fic #oikawa drabble #oikawa imagine #oikawa x y/n #oikawa fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff

[neuroticbookworm]

La Pluie: Fuck Destiny, Communication is Key

I’m a full week late to the party because I was watching I Told Sunset About You last week and my mind just refused to focus on anything else. And now I’m finally here to write a send-off post to my beloved La Pluie, which gave me one of the most satisfying and interactive TV show experiences of my life.

I’ve been singing praises for this show’s writing for weeks now, and what better way for me to say goodbye to the show than by analyzing two immaculately written getting-back-together scenes from the finale?

Lomfon and Tien

When we last saw Lomfon in the penultimate episode, he apologized to Tai for kissing him in the rain and effectively kick-starting this whole mess. We also saw how he has worked through his feelings and understands that whatever he felt for Tai is not love; it was only rooted in Tai’s goodwill towards him, a few shared traits between him and Tai, and the fact that Tai saved his life by pushing him out of the way of a moving vehicle (a 15 second interaction, I will never get over this insanity). And Lomfon says that all this experimentation has made it clear to him where his heart actually lies.

And now, in the finale, Lomfon is working on the script for his “A Message from the Heart” project and seeking advice from Pingpong.  We see that he fully understands how much he has hurt Tien with his actions. He tells Pingpong “I messed up so much that if I were him, I would never forgive myself”. Tien overhears them and confronts Lomfon, demanding to know if he’s messing with him. “Say it”, he shouts. But Lomfon does not respond, instead insisting that he will “show him with his actions”. And Tien walks away.

This is where I realized that this show is gonna really dig in its heels and fully emphasize how much open and honest communication matters in a relationship. Love can be expressed in so many different ways, and a person’s love language is definitely unique and significant to them. But when words are DEMANDED from you, you must respond with them. You cannot work around the painful and brutal honesty that is needed to form those thoughts, and the strength and bravery needed to stand in front of the person and utter those words.

That’s why Tien walks away from Lomfon when he insists that he will “show him” instead. And that’s why he leaves the room when Lomfon’s project video starts playing. Bear in mind, as far as Tien is concerned, Lomfon still likes his brother. Lomfon has not clarified or explained anything that would justify why Tien was on that presentation screen. So when he asks demands Lomfon, and Lomfon once again tells him that he showed his heart through his actions, Tien turns to walk away. It’s when he finally opens his mouth and starts verbalizing his desire, his fears, his confusion, and his guilt, Tien stops and listens. And when Lomfon asks him what Tien feels in his heart and if he still wants to follow it, Tien finally turns around and kisses him (I will be forever obsessed with the tippy toes).

gif by @liyazaki

I adore the fact that this show never outright rejects any form of expressing love. While Tien rejected actions from Lomfon before he made his intentions clear with words, we see that after Lomfon’s confession, Tien feels no qualms in resorting to a grand and sweeping gesture, like an intense kiss that definitely popped Lomfon’s foot (the foot pop is not purely a physical act, it is a state of mind, The Princess Diaries analogy is still right and valid, I will take no critiques).

Patts and Tai

The road to redemption for Tai is much longer and harder than it was for Lomfon, and the show fully leaned into it and showed us the weight of emotional turmoil Tai must endure to finally earn forgiveness from Patts. We see him have an epiphany about how his lack of communication with Patts mirrors his mom’s approach with him (@lurkingshan). We see him finally talk to Dream, who reiterates that Patts liked Tai before he knew that they were soulmates. And we see Tai take the leap of faith and catch a flight to Chiang Mai to find Patts. My love for this show grew to uncontrollable levels when it did not let Tai find Patts immediately.

He roams the streets, day after day, trying to find the love of his life. And when he comes back to his room every evening, exhausted and alone, he sits in the dark and contemplates how painfully lonely it feels to find and communicate with someone, when your efforts don’t seem to move the needle at all. And realizing this is exactly how Patts must’ve felt in the two years of silence Tai decided to put him through. He meets Art and Phueng, who teach him, yet again, just how important it is to talk and listen to each other in a relationship. And finally, on Day 4 of his quest, Tai runs into Patts on the streets of the local marketplace.

When Tai sees Patts, Patts looks like the mere husk of the man he once was. And Tai wastes no time and starts talking immediately, asking Patts to stay silent so this time, he can be the one who speaks out his love for him. Tai admits that he was stupid and selfish in their relationship. He says “Love is about two people. It does not need destiny to pave”. And he finally, finally says “I love you, Patts. I don’t care if it rains or not. I do love you no matter what happens”. And we see Patts wrap Tai into his body and promise to never let go of him again.

gif by @liyazaki

Now, I have to stop and give Title Tanatorn all the flowers in the world for his outstanding performance in this episode (and the show as a whole). He made me feel Tai’s soul-crushing pain and sadness, and also soothed my tender and bruised heart in the span of mere minutes. This scene was the culmination of Tai’s character development arc. He went from a guy who felt so jaded about love and relationships that he had been ghosting his soulmate for two whole years, to a guy who stood weeping in the middle of the road, pouring his heart out to Patts who only wanted Tai to love him back the way he loved him. And Title Tanatorn fucking nailed it.

And Pee Peerawich is no slouch either, as my boo @wen-kexing-apologist has already established, here. In the finale, he delivers a sublime, understated performance that does not take the spotlight away from Tai, while also perfectly reflecting Patts’ emotions on his face during Tai’s confession. These actors are so incredibly talented and did everything they can to augment the brilliant work of the writers of this show. Y’all have my attention, Tanachot Prapasri and Fuke Teerapat. I will diligently show up to watch your future works, even if it’s just your grocery lists dramatized into a TV show (shoutout to @so-much-yet-to-learn, who, when I voiced this statement, immediately and unironically piped up “Have you heard of this show called Ingredients?”. My BL buddies are hilarious as fuck and I will never be not impressed by the lengths Thai BLs would go to sell stuff to the masses).

Finally, I want to focus on a moment in the finale that kinda threw me off at first but, as the days passed, slowly grew into its significance. Dream tells Tai that Patts left with one last message: “I believe in soulmates. Saengtai is my soulmate”. Isn’t that.. weird? We know that Patts has openly stated before in this show that he wanted to defy destiny, and how his love for Tai is not just because he is his soulmate. For him to state this in the final episode seemed like an odd writing choice.

But, in the final voiceover, the show tells us (through Tai’s voice) that no one chooses to find an answer (to the hearing-loss-soulmate phenomenon) anymore. Instead, the people in this world are choosing to attribute whatever meaning they want to it. We have seen Patts say that Tai is his soulmate many times throughout this show, but he doesn’t mean it in its traditional sense; he means “I love Saengtai and I believe that I can’t live without him, which makes him my soulmate”. He paves his own way, and earnestly believes that Tai is his soulmate not just because they can hear each other when it rains, but because Tai understands and completes him and they find happiness in each other's company. In short: Fuck Destiny.

Since we were teased with a setup for a potential second season, I want to wrap up this post with a smattering of potential scenarios that have borrowed into my brain:

@bengiyo gleefully pointed out that when Lomfon suggests that he and Tien wait for another five minutes before going back into the classroom, so Tien won’t be forced to watch his embarrassingly sappy video, more than five minutes has already passed since they had walked out. Which means that Lomfon made a 10+ minutes long video of just Tien being cute and giggly and adorable. I love this over-the-top, madly-in-love Lomfon and I better get many, many more moments of him being pathetically sappy about Tien in the next season

I want the Patts-Saengnuea moment recreated beat by beat, including the sunglasses flip. If I don’t see Saengnuea on his tippy toes, menacingly lean into Lomfon’s ear and threaten him with bodily harm if he ever hurts his little brother, then what’s even the fucking point?

The comedic potential of Lomfon being forced to socialize with Patts, while he tries to make himself as small and unassuming as physically possible is a treasure trove and must be treated by the writers as such. The possibilities are endless. Warun and Saengchan would be menaces, trying to cook up situations that would force them together. Tai and Tien would act exasperated, while secretly enjoying the shenanigans. Gimme all of it.

My experience of watching this show is indelibly tied to all the wonderful metas I read here. The sense of community around this show’s discourse was incredible and a joy to be part of. Thank you to all the amazing humans who decided to be very not-chill and not-normal about this show: @bengiyo, @shortpplfedup, @ginnymoonbeam, @wen-kexing-apologist, @liyazaki, @respectthepetty, @syrena-del-mar, @chickenstrangers, @rocketturtle4, @williamrikers, @shouldiusemyname, @sunshinechay, @slayerkitty, @indigostarfire, @iguessitsjustme and I know I’m missing many more, sorry! And a special, with-cherries-on-top shoutout to @lurkingshan for putting the La Pluie meta roundup together, and encouraging people to participate in the discourse. Peace out, homies! And as always, FUCK DESTINY!

gif by @ueasking

#la pluie #la pluie series #la pluie the series #la pluie meta #pattstai #patts x saengtai #lomfontien #tien x lomfon #title tanatorn #pee peerawich #suar kritsanaphong #copter nuntapong

[rollercoasterwords]

that makes me so sad that authors see their fics being bashed on tiktok. now, i’m all for banning cancel culture of course, but can we just…just this time…purge everyone who is reviewing fics in a hateful way purely for views ?🙄🤫

yeahhhhh i mean i have ranted and raved about this before but i think what it comes back to at the end of the day is that people who post negative shit about fics just genuinely do not understand the media they're interacting with. they think it's ok to "critique" things they don't like the same way they would a book or movie, but that assumes that fanfic is something created for a consumer-audience which is simply not the case! like, they think they're ordering food at a restaurant and sending it back because they don't like it, but in reality they've walked into somebody's house, sat down at their dinner table, taken a bite and then gone "wow you're a horrible cook why would u serve me this!!" and the fic writer is sitting there to eat their dinner like ummmm i made this for me and my friends u didn't have to come to my house for dinner if u don't like the food??

i also mostly see this happening with fics that have gotten really popular via tiktok virality, like people think that if a work is popular it somehow makes it more okay to shit on it. but the thing is that most fics that get blown up on tiktok aren't being posted there by the writer. like, most writers just post on ao3 and maybe drop a little update on tumblr for their circle of mutuals/followers and that's it. most writers are not trying to go viral. in fact, many of us think that tiktok virality is like...a nightmare scenario lol. and part of that is because once something goes viral people literally stop treating the person who wrote it like a human being. so!! it does indeed suck and i wish there was a way to like...magically silence everyone who posts "ummmm hot take but i actually HATE this fic" because even if it is coming from a place of genuine ignorance about the media ur interacting with, it's still just mean. it's mean! it's really mean, and it's clearly being posted with the intent of getting views/likes/attention on the internet for urself by framing ur meanness as a "hot take." honestly it's insane to me that such a large portion of the fandom lacks the media literacy to understand that it's not okay to just interact with every form of media in the same way.

#ask #ranting and raving

[thecapricunt1616]

Chapter 2 The Bear & His Honey

Chapter Inspo: Quote - "The only heaven I’d be sent to, is one where I’m alone with you." Summary: (18+ ONLY FIC) Carmy gets heated in the kitchen, makes Winnie lunch, & Meets the famous Sugar. A/N: Heyooo!! I am so proud of myself for like not having writers block and actually continuing a fic I started LOL! I think this one is longer than the last, like 7k characters or smth. I can't make promises abt. when I'll post next, but I can try to make it this week! I hope you're all enjoying so far. Warnings: Swearing, Yelling, smut, alcohol, tad angsty if you can even call it that, and then just overall feminine yearning!! ***As per usual; Reblogs, Likes, Comments, & Constructive Critiques are not only welcomed, but much appreciated! Without further ado, here we go! Woooo!***

𝒞𝒽𝑒𝒸𝓀 𝒪𝓊𝓉 𝑀𝓎 𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉!

Chapter 1 Here

__________________________

I followed him in to the screaming, bustling pit that was his kitchen. “BEHIND!- Jesus Christ, Tina, watch it - I said Behind! Should I just drop this, huh Chef?!”  Someone cried out, the intensity of the atmosphere causing my chest to tighten as if clawed hands were achingly squeezing ever so slowly around my lungs. 

 “Gosh” I muttered, trying my best to take everything in, every sense of mind becoming slightly overwhelmed. Carmen briskly showed me to his small office, the insanity of his kitchen not even strumming a nerve for him it seemed. He showed me to a desk covered in too many papers in the corner, before thumbing through them until he found what he was rummaging for. “Ah! Yes. Here we go!! Alright. You look at this” he turned to me, handing it over. 

“With that big-booky-brain of yours, sure you could figure some changes to make the dishes sound extra special ‘mm?” He mused. I glanced over the piece of printer paper, nothing more than a piece of plain white paper adorned with dish names and descriptions of them followed by pricing. 

“Uhh…sure thing. ‘M not that smart, slutty books about muscley guys with wings and mind reading abilities only get you so far…” I said jokingly, my eyebrows furrowing as I my eyes glaze over the intricate ingredients I’d never heard of. 

“Alright, uhhh.. you’re gonna have to go more into detail about what you’re getting up to at the bookstore when I get back” he teased and closed the door to the office behind him as he headed to the kitchen. 

I continued reading over the ingredients, adding an appetizing verb here and there, hoping that was what he was looking for. I lean on my hand, looking over the other papers on the desk. Mostly food shipment orders, different labor receipts, jumping in my seat a bit when I hear a huge crash and what sounds like a bunch of aluminum clattering. 

“FUCK, JESUS! ” Carm yells, his voice booming through the kitchen and it was suddenly silent, as if every single thing stopped. “How many times have I told you guys, do, NOT leave empty FUCKING pans ON THE EDGE OF YOUR GOD DAMN STATION. Everyone look over your FUCKING station, RIGHT THE FUCK NOW - if there is an something that needs to be washed- it goes IN THE SINK. NOW. Move!” 

The only response is a chorus of “Yes Chef!” 

“Marcus get the fuck over here deal with this these fucking sheet pans!” He barks. I swallow the nervous lump in my throat, contemplating if I should just grab my purse and go. My eyes flick to the door when I hear the handle, and Carmen walks back in, his face a bit flushed from his outburst I’d assume. 

“Hey” he said casually and smiled a bit, as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He was holding a plate that honestly, looked amazing. “So, not chilli, so sorry, but- we do have Mac salad, and then this fire pork stew type deal, oh, and your onions, and a burger, and a hot dog- feelin frisky today, Winnie?” He puts the plate in front of me with a soft smile. 

All tension I was feeling vanished like sand between my fingers. A smile tugs at the corner of my lips and I look up at him. “And my ketchup?” I asked and he rolled his eyes, taking the ketchup and mustard bottles from his apron and setting them down in front of me. “Sorry, your majesty.” He teased.

I take the ketchup, squeezing a good amount over the top. “I guess… I am feeling frisky” I said, doing the same with the mustard. “Yea? You reading up on more winged muscle man porn while I was out there?” I laughed as I cut up the hot dog and burger on top, a real laugh. Not something someone could usually drag out of me since my brother. But for some reason, Carmen seemed to be very good at it. 

“Ohhh yeah. I was just all spread out here on top of your desk rubbing one out - the yelling you were doing really did it for me. Finished right before you came in.” I teased with a feline smirk, watching as his cheeks heated slightly. “Yeah- sorry about that” he rubs the back of his neck. “Uh- Marcus he just left all these fucking pans and Syd ran right in to them - keep tellen ‘em to put shit where it goes.” He sighed a bit. 

“No, no, no need to be sorry. A book store and a kitchen are 2 very different places to work, just glad everything’s alright” I took a bite, my eyes widening at the amazing flavor. It definitely wasn’t home, but that was okay. It was fucking amazing. I bring my hand up to my mouth to cover it as I speak, unable to wait another second to tell him. 

“That? Is Fuuucking heat dude. Wow.” I said swallowing and immediately going for more. “Really? You are…unbelievable” he chuckles, sitting back with a small smirk on his lips. “No you are unbelievable, Chef, great work. 5 stars on yelp” I giggle and he shakes his head rolling his eyes in amusement. 

“Why thank you, your review is valued” he gets up and leans in. I swear I feel my heart stutter in my chest when his chain brushes my temple as he reaches around me and grabs the menu I had been scribbling notes on for him. I could smell the musk of his cologne, a bit of tobacco from his cigarette, and a tinge of salty sweat from being in such a hot kitchen all morning. It was intoxicating. I wanted to bury my nose in his chest and just inhale, I could get drunk off the scent.  “Sorry” he said softly, sitting back down and looking at the menu. 

My cheeks had to be on fire, and I’m sure if his chain grazed my face again, its icy touch would sizzle at the contact. I swallow the bite I had forgotten about in my mouth when he was so close and look over at him. He was still looking over the menu, eyebrows raised slightly, “mm, like that” he mutters, rubbing his chin in contemplation. 

“Wow, look at what your slutty books taught you, ‘opulence to the core in your mouth’ hmm? What were they describing?” He smirks, his eyes meeting mine. I swear I could burst into flames and be left as nothing but a pile of ashes. I can’t remember a time that I’d been so melted by the attention of a man. 

“Uh-“ I stutter, clearing my throat, trying to rack my now empty brain (other then that pesky vision buried deep, of him rage fucking me over his desk. Sending waves of soaking warmth to my core, so strong I’m more petrified of the vision of me getting up and his chair being wet with my arousal) “Oh, you know…” I trail off with a shrug, my gaze finding my plate again and taking another bite to avoid embarrassing myself any further. 

“Well, I just may have you edit these more often little miss vocabulary” he continues reading over. “I like this, exactly what I wanted. Thank you” he smiled softly, setting the paper down on the desk. Our hands brush, and goosebumps immediately rose everywhere from my shins to my jaw. 

I look over at him, to find him looking right back at me. “This is…like so good” I said to take my mind off the ache growing between my thighs and he grinned. “Glad you like it. Swing by anytime I’ll make one for you, on the house of course. Gotta make sure we treat our official menu editor well” he rested his hands on the top of his curls with locked fingers. His biceps looked much more pronounced this way, the tattoos I hadn’t been able to see on the back of his arms making an appearance. 

He looked as if he was a fucking statue, a Greek god carved from the masterful hands of Myron. He is beautiful. He has such a strong nose, a muscular jaw and neck, god his fucking neck. Those veins, I can imagine when he gets all fired up they protrude powerfully. I trail back up to his nose, god that fucking nose. My core clenches around nothing at the sudden dirty image of messily riding his face comes to the front of my mind, his beautiful blue eyes darkened in lust due to his blown out pupils, his beautiful sexy nose nuzzling my bundle of nerves, my arousal dripping down his neck and chest as he drinks up all he can. Flushed at the Hollywood porno in my mind, I quickly shut it out like slamming a door and my eyes flick to his beautiful blues, a satisfied smirk on his blush pink lips. 

“What?” I questioned, my cheeks growing hotter. “Mm. Nothin’. Enjoying the view or somethin’?” He questioned and I look at my plate. “No- I mean, well” I stuttered, picking up another bite and putting it in my mouth to avoid the confrontation as it had worked for me shortly before. 

He playfully smacks a hand over his heart “wow!” He said earning a giggle from me “here I am, slavin’ over the stove like a damn housewife for you to make your- whatever the hell - and you have the gaul to insult me!! In my own restaurant at that!”  He feigned offense, a real smile adorning his features, eyes crinkled, dimples on proud display. 

“You’re cute! There. Is that what you wanted, Carmen? Your ego stroked a little? Awww, Carm, you’re such a handsome little boy” I laughed, leaning in and pinching his cheek playfully. He rolled his eyes, swatting my hand away with a grin. “So you only go out with guys with wings, that it?” He raised his eyebrows. 

“Wow!! Look at you, big player!” I gently kick his clog with my boot “you askin’ me out?” I asked, my heart picking up speed once more. “No, I just asked if your preference is a buff dude with wings. But since you mention it, sure, I’d love to go out with you. Thanks for the offer” he teased, a pesky smirk on his lips. 

“Wooow!” I drew out and laughed. “Wow!! Big sexy muscle man can’t ask a girl out, hmm? Need to trick her in to asking you?” I took a sip from the water bottle I’d brought in my bag. His cheeks heat, raising his eyebrows he says “well I’m no big sexy muscle man, I’m just ahh…how did you put it?” He asked. 

I leaned in, gently adjusting the pendant of his chain to face front and center again before resting my hand on his chest, palm flat, and feel the heavy thump of his heart when I speak again “a very handsome little boy” I said softly, my eyes flicker to his lips as he gently tugged his bottom one between his teeth. “Mm” he hummed, I felt the vibration under my hand. “That was it. Yeah” he said just above a whisper, his voice richer, deeper, like the dark chocolate cake described on the dessert menu. 

The door flies open and I jump back in my seat, resuming eating as naturally as I could manage. “Bear! There you are, Jesus Christ. Since when do you take breaks? The fuckin’ glassware company left three boxes of cocktail glasses off- three Carm!” A very loud blonde storms in, dropping her large purse in a slump at my feet and kicking it under the desk like I wasn’t even there. 

“Sorry,” she gives me a sympathetic smile “just restaurant shit.” She looks back at him “who did the order?” He asks. “Syd!! I told you, Carmen, you are putting too much on her plate right now! Stop being such a jagoff” she pushes his arm gently “and fucking divide the work!! Fuckin- fuckin’ teach Manny how to order!! I don’t know!” She said exasperated and frustrated. 

“Sugar I’ll call them, I’ll fix it, I fucked up.” He admitted with a sigh and rubs his face. “Yes. You did. And you better fix it. Or else how in the fuck are we gonna do your stupid little house cocktail on family night in three days?!” She asked, holding up 3 fingers and waving them in front of his face as he shook his head. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know.” He muttered and ran his fingers through his curls. “Sorry should I-“ I grabbed my purse from the back of the chair and motioned to the door “ahh fuck. Ye’ I’m so sorry I-“ he blinks hard, thinking. 

“What time do you get off?” He asks “5:15 usually” I said and got up, my plate of food mostly gone. “Shit…uhh..” he rubs his chin in contemplation. “Can you swing by at like- 10? If not, it's totally fine, we- we can have a drink? If you want..” he offered. I nod, a soft smile gracing my features. “Sure thing, I’m a night owl anyway. See you at ten, Chef, thanks again for lunch, it was great”. But before I leave the office, I lean in and whisper in his ear. 

“Be a good, handsome little boy while I’m gone. No more yelling over dropped trays, mm?” I rub my hand over his bicep giving a gentle squeeze and my eyes flicker to his lips, watching as his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows thickly, bright red flushing his cheeks.  “S-see you at ten” he stuttered in reply. I shut the door behind me, giggling quietly to myself as I hear who I now knew as ‘Sugar’ saying “Where’d you meet that pretty thing?”

Read Chapter 3 Here!

#carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto x oc #carmen berzatto x oc #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #jeremy allen white fanfiction #jeremy allen white #the bear fic #carmy the bear #carmen berzatto the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear carmen #carmen berzatto the bear fanfiction #carm berzatto #the bear fanfiction #the bear fandom #carmy berzatto smut #carmen berzatto smut #the bear and his honey #the bear and his honey chapter 2 #chapter 2