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arthurmorganwateringhole · 2 years

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Opening Up the Western

How Red Dead Redemption 2 Freed the “Western” from the Grip of Traditional American Values; or how RDR2 Made the Cowboy Sexy

I joked in an old post that Arthur Morgan is the first cowboy to appeal to a more modern audience -- ‘modern’ meaning a diverse demographic no longer confined to the cis white straight man. I’m not surprised that, for a blog of my size, that is one of my more popular posts and met with no contention. So many fans of Red Dead 2 are not only newcomers to the series but to the genre of the Western itself, many of whom had never touched a Western film or story simply because of its associations with American chauvinism and colonial settler violence. So, how is Arthur Morgan so universally appealing? What does he bring that so many anti-Westerns, a subgenre of films that critique the defining tropes of the Western, haven’t done before him?

Well, let’s talk about it.

Here we are, how Arthur Morgan rescued the genre of the Western and made it way, way more palatable.

[Disclaimer: I will be using GIFs freely searchable via the ‘gif’ function of the textpost. I will also credit images if necessary. Uncredited images mean they were my screengrabs. ]

Read below the cut for the full essay! (BEWARE OF SPOILERS!)

The Gun-Slinging Hero

In a lot of ways, Arthur Morgan is a familiar hero. The Western isn’t necessarily a story about cowboys. It is, however, necessarily a story of the gunslinger. Whether he be a sheriff, a Robin Hood-esque outlaw, or a cowboy, he is nevertheless a skilled shootist, often working alone, and pitted against unequivocally bad guys. The anti-Western (a subgrenre of classic hollywood films which emerge earliest in the 60s) somewhat turn this trope of the unfailingly good gunslinger on its head by instead critiquing this lone figure as troubled, haunted by a past, and unable to survive in a society structured by morals and laws. In short, the Western does not question the gunslinger’s ability to leave behind a trail of bodies. I would go so far as to say that the Western refuses to look at this trail of bodies. The anti-Western, however, will constantly remind the hero of their body count as one of the many flaws which make them tragic.

Clint Eastwood as Will Munny in the anti-Western, Unforgiven (1992). Will Munny is a reformed outlaw and widower who is trying to make ends meet as a hog farmer. A cowboy, fascinated by stories of his past, asks him to join him on the hunt for a $1000 bounty, to which Will responds, ‘I ain’t like that anymore, kid.’

In this regard, Arthur Morgan isn’t all that far-off from a very familiar figure in cinematic history. He is a skilled gunslinger with a body count. He lets everyone know he’s a bad person and frequently contemplates the sins of his past. Yet, he differs in drastically different ways too. To begin with, this haunted gunslinger trope is often running away not just from his past but from the death of, typically, a family member, especially a wife or a lover. Due to the death of this loved one, the anti-Western hero is emotionally closed off and melancholy in disposition. Clint Eastwood is famous for portraying this type of cowboy, whose film posters and iconic performances center on the grimacing cowboy unfazed by the monstrosities committed by himself and others.

In the Revenant (2015), frontiersman Hugh Glass is haunted by his dead wife and son, who are members of the Pawnee tribe. Note that the trope of the tortured widower is condensed with surreal representations of colonial settler violence, thereby mixing the personal tragedy of losing family with the more historical problem of genocide and Western expansion.

The framing of Arthur Morgan, strangely enough, both embraces and rejects this trope. As we play Red Dead Redemption 2, we learn that Arthur has an unrequited love with the widow Mary Linton, whom he almost married once but ultimately let go, despite his persisting feelings for her, out of fear for her safety and wellbeing. Thus, Mary Linton is spared becoming the collateral for Arthur’s moral reformation. She lives, and her rejection of his lifestyle is all the reminder he needs that he hasn’t done good things in his life.

On the other hand, we have the deaths of Eliza and Isaac. I know this is going to be controversial (considering the ambiguity of Eliza’s relationship with Arthur and how the fandom likes to interpret her as a ‘dead wife’ figure for Arthur). It’s worth noting that, in his conversation with Rains Fall and Sister Calderón, Arthur doesn’t really think of Eliza as a wife he lost (he only regrets letting go of Mary aka ‘a woman who loved me’). They very explicitly never married, as he didn’t want to make promises he couldn’t keep (a paraphrase of his own words), but he otherwise thought of her as ‘a good kid,’ having only been 19 years old when she became pregnant with their son. By all accounts, I think the real tragedy and ghost of Arthur’s past is Isaac himself, with Eliza being somewhat of a friend or co-parent whose death he also regrets.

Yet is exactly on this point that Arthur differs. The deaths of his son and co-parent have done nothing to his otherwise happy-go-lucky attitude, or the excitement he feels when robbing a train [credit to @f--hawk for finding out via mods that he smirks beneath the bandana during the train robbery mission cutscene]. Neither do these deaths motivate him to leave the outlaw lifestyle, as it did for aforementioned character Will Munny in the film Unforgiven. Whatever moral reformation Arthur experiences as a result of this trauma does not manifest outwardly, but it doesn’t stop him from living his life either. As such, Arthur Morgan occupies this liminal space between the Western hero and the Anti-Western hero, neither heroic nor fallen; not widowed but still grieving; cognizant of the weight of his actions yet constantly living in the present.

This in-between-ness actually makes a good beginning for a video game protagonist, as it’s precisely this ambiguity that gives the player freedom to decide how Arthur develops. In this sense, Arthur is already more accessible than his cinematic predecessors. Loss is a memory, not an anchor, and players are free to contemplate how his actions will affect him rather than a predetermined path. (Though there’s an argument to be made that the game definitely wants players to choose the path of redemption for Arthur).

In a lot of ways, the writing of Arthur Morgan as a character is a wholesale rejection of the emotionally closed-off, brooding, and fallen hero archetype that so frequently graces the Western genre. As one of the characters mention, Arthur is always smiling. He is prone to self-deprecating humor and lighthearted banter. His responses to shit going down are the type of lines you’d normally hear from the mouth of a comic side relief in films [for instance, his sarcastic remark after trying to escape the trolley, ‘Does this trolley go to Tahiti?’ is an example of his surprisingly bombastic and humorous disposition].

More importantly, he laughs -- heartily and frequently. Clint Eastwood might smirk. John Wayne might flash a smug grin. But Arthur Morgan smiles with his whole heart and inflects every chortle with emotion. Just hear this bellowing laughter of his when he wins 36 cents in a game of blackjack.

Below, you’ll find a clip of Arthur being a vocal supporter of the theatrical arts:

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In short, Arthur isn’t defined by his pain, neither does the narrative of Red Dead flaunt the sins of his past constantly through dialogue and imagery. There’s a purpose behind all this, of course. It makes Arthur’s willingness to help out complete strangers, even at his own expense, more plausible due to his easygoing and helpful nature. If, as sister Calderon says, helping people makes him smile, then it’s more believable for us as the audience and the player to see Arthur Morgan as a complicated individual whose cheerful disposition adds nuance to a tried-and-tested cinematic archetype.

Romancing the Cowboy

Okay, so far Arthur Morgan is unconventional, for sure, but how is he more appealing to a 21st-century audience? There are signposts throughout the game and Arthur’s writing which suggest that the writers behind Red Dead 2 wanted to appeal to a broader audience than the traditional consumers of Westerns. In other words, the presence of certain tropes and imagery show that the developers were trying to appeal to so many more people than just the cis white man. Given how handsome Arthur is, women for sure is one of those newer groups brought into the Western fold. [Note, by ‘women’ I don’t just mean cis straight women either. I would further argue that Arthur has a universal charm that members of the LGBTQA community and people of color can rally behind, being a bisexual woman of color myself]

To open up the Western and reimagine the broody gunslinger, Red Dead 2 introduces two genres into the series, which shape Arthur as a heartthrob and alluringly sensitive soul: the Medieval Romance and Romanticism.

The Medieval Romance

The medieval romance is an old and varied genre that is difficult to pinpoint. Not to mention, the genre changes depending on the region and language we’re focusing on. For our purposes, the medieval romance is a type of fictional narrative. Structurally, these narratives are episodic and prominently feature chivalry/chivalric duty, knights, adventure, and courtly love. Many might be familiar with King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, aka the Arthurian legend. In the romance version of this myth (i.e. not the Welsh folklore but the English textual co-optation of the legend), the knights of the round table often go off in their own tales of adventure, with each tale serving as an episode that takes the heroes to different locations and challenges.

Is this beginning to sound familiar? Red Dead Redemption ostensibly follows this bare bones structure of the medieval romance. There is a core group with a sovereign leader (Dutch, in this case) surrounded by his loyal outlaws who all abide by a code. Remember, chivalry isn’t just some outdated way to talk about being nice and courteous to women. Chivalry also represents the codes of loyalty a knight upholds as a representative and champion of his liege lord. Thus, it is very fitting for us to think of the Van Der Linde gang as a group of knights abiding by a certain code that, while not explicitly defined, hinges on loyalty and a sense of honor (or in their case, honor among thieves). In fact, even the camp life is reminiscent of courtly life, with fêtes, singing, and their own micropolitical squabbles. Another facet of chivalry is how a knight treats with noblewomen and ladies. A chivalrous knight is always ready to be at the call of his lady, coming to her rescue or championing her in tournaments. The romantic tropes that come from this gendered dynamic survives today as the knight-like readiness of Arthur to help women and always treat them with utmost respect -- something that not every man in the camp actually do *cough Micah and Duch cough*

More to the point (in terms of how this makes Arthur sexy), the medieval romance is most famous for portraying courtly love. Courtly love too is a vague term, but you can readily identify it as often a star-crossed romance between a lady and a knight. Often there is something preventing them from coming together, whether it be class difference (for instance, a Queen and her knight, like Guinevere and Lancelot) or war keeping the lovers away from each other. Courtly love is depicted in art as elevated, not merely a carnal or romantic arrangement. Court lovers are often depicted exchanging letters, or often a knight will perform life-threatening/valiant feats in order to prove his love and loyalty to his beloved.

(Taken from La morte d’Arthur, this artwork shows King Arthur catching sight of his knight Lancelot embracing his wife Queen Guinevere. This love triangle is the quintessential doomed love affair in Western literature)

By now, I hope you’re starting to see some big motifs that are clearly at work in RDR2. Star-crossed lovers, elevated courtship, loyalty, tragedy, and circumstances preventing both lovers from being happy are staples of a rich literary tradition that informs our idea of romantic love in the modern world. More importantly, these tropes are blatantly present in Arthur Morgan as a loyal knight whose main point of narrative tension stems from the personal happiness of being with Mary Gillis vs fulfilling his duty as an outlaw loyal to Dutch and his ideology.

I would like to note that, whenever modern works invoke older literary forms, the effect tends to be elevatory. Notice how none of this is really a major theme in RDR1. We’re not supposed to imagine John as an adventuring knight caught in the highs and lows of criminal courtly life. John’s story is more reminiscent of the anti-Western. On the other hand, Arthur’s feats and tragic love story with Mary hearken back to these historical tales of timeless love and literally knights in shining armor. We’re supposed to think of Arthur as noble, in both senses of the world. In this vein, I don’t think it’s an accident that his very Welsh name of Arthur Morgan was chosen, considering how both Arthur and Morgan le Fay are major players in the Arthurian legend.

Note, it’s not an accident that, in the epilogue, 12-year-old Jack is telling his father about the legend of King Arthur and the knights of the round table. In a way, this is the game’s way of sublimating Arthur and his life into legend. He lived and died tragically, much like his namesake, and in the epilogue he continues to live on in legend, sublimated into fantastical tales for children who seek to be transported to other fictional worlds.

To summarize this subsection, the medieval romance is formally and thematically pervasive in RDR2, making it more unique among other Westerns and anti-Westerns. Arthur Morgan, as a character reminiscent of noble knights of legend, embodies the heroes of both medieval and modern romance.

Romanticism

Arthur contemplating life while sitting on the precipice of Horseshoe Overlook, VP by @papauue

Now, let’s talk about a relatively more modern artistic movement that actually has more overt connections to RDR2′s story and a genre famous for catering to sensitive souls and women.

Historically speaking, romanticism covers a lot, especially (from the German side of things) a movement of philosophy that is all about self-elevation/self-liberation, experiencing the sublime, and encountering nature as an ambivalent yet powerful force that can inspire great transformation.

We won’t get into any of that, but we will get into Romanticism’s ramifications for late 18th-century/early 19th-century culture in Western Europe and North America. Romanticism is the moment of broody poets (Lord Byron, Mr. and Mrs. Shelley, William Blake, Coleridge, Wordsworth, etc), and in this moment we see a turn away from the cosmopolitan pretensions of the Enlightenment in Europe to the purifying retreat of nature and its aesthetic pleasures.

Visually, emphasis on the poet as a lone wanderer as an agent ready to submit to higher powers pervades art in this time. The famous painting by German Romantic, Caspar David Friedrich is a great example of the individual whose seclusion in the great abyss of nature inspires self-elevation.

It always struck me as funny that, cinematography-wise, Red Dead Redemption 2 doesn’t really force shots like this in cutscenes, but the world building and design of RDR2′s open world for sure enables the player to likewise seek refuge and commune with the austere landscape of the North American wilderness. The screenshot below is one of my first screenshots from my first playthrough. The scenery honestly inspires the Romantic sublime, and I definitely think this was deliberate on the part of RDR2 writers and developers!

As you can imagine, the emphasis on landscape, self-liberation, freedom, and experiencing the world ‘through a grain of sand, eternity in an hour’ (from William Blake) works its way into RDR2 via Arthur’s journal. In a previous post of mine, you can get more of the history behind journaling and travel literature as a background on Arthur’s naturalist aspirations. But here, we’re going to talk about the act of journaling itself, i.e. the act of writing prose in a moment of self-reflection, as a byproduct of romanticism and the wandering poet.

Though journaling became a more popular activity in the 1700s, especially with the rise of epistolary fiction and novels, it became more commonplace and standard in the 1800s. The quote below briefly sums up what journaling was used for in this time period:

“Nonfictional narratives of the disease—in texts ranging from diaries and memoirs to medical publications and political debates—were equally central in efforts to make sense of life, illness, and death in the nineteenth century.” - The Making of Social Disease by David S. Barnes

Journaling therefore is an activity of moral development and sensitive self-reflection. The journal is all about making a text to make sense of one’s life and experiences, and often these attempts reflect how nonsensical the world actually is. We definitely get this tone and struggle in Arthur Morgan’s journal, who often writes in his entries that he is at a loss as each failure brings the gang closer to their demise. This writerly, if not poetic, disposition in Arthur shows he is a brooding, sensitive soul beneath that facade of tough and smart-ass cowboy.

But there’s more to Romanticism in Red Dead 2 than landscape. Perhaps the most famous cultural byproduct of Romanticism is the popularity of consumption (i.e. pulmonary tuberculosis) as an aesthetic that makes one more attractive and sensitive.

I am not kidding. There is a great article about the history of consumption as sexy. I recommend this article here for a light and quick read on the subject.

To pull a quote from the article, let me sum up how consumption was seen as sexy in this time period:

“Because of its association with young women and poets, the disease itself came to represent beauty, romantic passion, and hyper sexuality. As far as illnesses went, it was considered to be rather glamorous, and in a culture half in love with death, it inspired its fair share of tributes. There are numerous romantic depictions of young women wasting away in death beds at the height of their beauty.” (from “Drop Dead Gorgeous”)

In addition to aesthetic, David S. Barnes (from the quote above) notes that the consumptive also embodies an idealized path toward self-redemption:

"Briefly stated, tuberculosis served as a key vehicle in the nineteenth century through which womanhood was associated with a kind of suffering that was morally and spiritually redeeming. Moreover, around the turn of the century, even as the French state and the medical and philanthropic communities were elaborating and actively promoting a new vision of tuberculosis as a social problem of the first magnitude, the older reading of the disease as a sign of redemptive suffering persisted and even thrived, in a sense complementing but also implicitly contesting the new sociomedical orthodoxy." (Barnes)

Although the figure of the sexy consumptive typically was a woman, as these historians will tell you, many men -- especially poets and artists -- were considered sexy for having the look of a consumptive. Their emotional outbursts, pale and lean builds, and tendency to die before they’re 30 made them highly appealing and romanticized in an era that was a little too fascinated with death.

Morbid as it is, the figure of the consumptive is where we get these Victorian beauty standards of pale skin, leanness/thinness, rouged cheeks and lips (from the bloody coughs), and artistic sensibility! In literature and art, the ailing consumptive also had a special relationship with nature, as treatment often required they stay in the country for recovery. As such, these consumptive souls were often seen as pure, sensitive, and mellow individuals who are above the earthly concerns of the city.

The aesthetic of the sexy consumptive survives today in vampire literature, as a romance subgenre that plays with the historical monster as an eternally youthful yet morally damned/tortured lover. So, even though this fetishizing of consumption back in the 1800s might come off as morbid and twisted to modern audiences, the cultural impact of romanticism remains with us today, albeit in other mutated forms.

Now, I set up all this historical context to talk about this big plot event in the story of Red Dead Redemption 2: Arthur contracts tuberculosis.

In the tragic conclusion of Arthur’s story, Arthur’s tuberculosis manifests after a rough fifth chapter, and the symptoms become flagrant: pale skin, bloodshot eyes, coughing up blood, fainting, inability to maintain weight, etc-- the supposed traits of the sexy consumption. Now, I don’t think it’s Rockstar’s intention to portray a sick and dying Arthur as sexy, but I do think that in giving him a disease that became less common in 1899 (it was scarier and more prevalent as a disease in the earlier half of the 1800s) is their way of elevating Arthur up as a Romantic Hero. His sensitivity as an artist and ailing health ascribe to him the aesthetic disposition of a poet and a Romantic. Like the beautiful tragic poets of the prior century, Arthur is now on this doomed trajectory toward redemption and self-liberation.

In a way, the consumptive also socially elevates Arthur. Consumption is typically the disease of the rich in 19th-century popular culture. Poets, artists, and repressed daughters of rich families were the more visible victims of this beautifying illness.

I’m not sure if I am still making sense here. And if anyone has questions or confused, I am totally happy to clarify whenever yall want. Basically though, the invocation of Romanticism as a genre in Red Dead 2 is all about making Arthur a Romantic hero whose relationship with nature isn’t so much just one of an outlaw’s but also one of a sensitive soul, whose curious mind leads to moments of pensive self-reflection and contemplations on life and death.

Miscellany and Conclusion

There are other elements that make Arthur an attractive hero for all, detracting from the typical masculine archetypes found in a Western. One thing I couldn’t really classify is Arthur’s compassion toward animals. The soft, breathy whispered “thank you” he gives to his dying horse in his final mission is one such example, but ultimately you’ll find a line of dialogue every once in a while that shows Arthur has a serious respect for animals, if not a soft spot for them. Albert Mason’s photography side missions are proof and point of this tendency in him.

I also don’t want to understate how Arthur, as a talented artist and writer, contributes to his sex appeal as a modern protagonist. Most cowboys in both the Western and anti-Western aren’t artists. In fact, I can’t think of a cowboy who just sketches by his lonesome while out in the wilderness. This attention to landscape and animals in their natural habitat, while explained in my aforementioned post, show a side of him that values the precious yet fragile beauty of nature. It’s sexy for a man to be so earnest in his relationship with the world, forever willing to learn and to appreciate his surroundings. Most cowboys/gunslingers are tamers of the natural world, but Arthur is most decidedly a courteous guest of nature doing his best to respect wildlife while surviving.

In the end, Arthur is a combination of past literary traditions, but such a masterful combination of old form means he is readily recognizable and appealing, because older genres always survive, in some form or fashion, in our modern world. The consumptive Romantic is now the sexy, sensitive vampire. The knight of medieval romance is now the kind man who champions his love via devotion and respect. Arthur Morgan is a critique of the Western’s moral failings, but he is also an enthusiastic rejection of the fraught and emotionally closed-off embodiment of the hypermasculine. He doesn’t just survive -- he lives in the world as a writer, artist, and gentle soul. It is through these combinations that Rockstar can repackage the Western and give us a beautiful and beloved hero like Arthur Morgan.

#Arthur Morgan #RDR2 meta #RDR2 analysis #Lia rambles #Red Dead Redemption 2 #RDR2 spoilers

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sebastard69 · 2 years

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Not Quite At The End Shadowbringers Thoughts:

Literally had to step away for a hot minute because of a reveal so here's some more thoughts!

- Ok so I was half right about Vauthry but mostly wrong. I don't know WHY my brain went to primal when OBVIOUSLY we're dealing with sin eaters and lightwardens and given his control over eaters, it's the obvious answer. But I was right about the meol in that he was using it to enthrall people, essentially tempering them. But uh, the fact it was not only made of sin eaters but it was made of sin eaters he'd turned people into was not on my radar and that fucked me up. Sweeney Todd type shit. Anyway, I really hate him lmao.

- Every scene that Emet-Selch is in, the more I like him. And I like the route this expansion is going in general with the whole "Things aren't black and white." and that it extends beyond the events of the First. He's making me sympathize with the Ascians, which has me feeling conflicted in some ways, but none of them necessarily bad. It's good writing. Finding out that Hydaelyn and Zodiark are primals confirmed a suspicion I'd had since the beginning - because what, ultimately, is the difference between a god and a primal? And hints were dropped in things like the Resistance members reportedly trying to summon Rhalgr. In the end, there is no difference. Learning about the Sundering, about what Ascians are exactly, has been endlessly fascinating, and in some ways Emet-Selch is right that Rejoining all the shards would result in the least casualties - in that leaving men to their devices will always inevitably result in disastrous conflict that in the long run would render more casualties than the calamities necessary for a Rejoining. The comment he made about not seeing the other characters as truly alive was kind of eye-opening, too. I mean, compared to the kind of humanity he knew prior to the Sundering, they're half-formed and incomplete. None of this makes him correct in causing the calamities, but the perspective has shifted and my understanding of motivations is drastically different. He's trying to save something that doesn't exist anymore. And how many people have we ourselves slain in the name of 'the greater good'? How many of the enemy were innocent people who had been sent to war against their will or outright lied to? How many "heretics" did we cut down when they were desperate for the iron fist of the Church to be lifted? This isn't some "Oh, we're no better than the enemy." thing, it's a "Things are complicated, and we have more in common with our enemy than previously thought."

- Speaking of Emet-Selch, there's.... something there between him and the WoL. And like I don't necessarily mean that in a shippy way, I just mean that he's.... unusually fond of them. His demeanor when talking with them or even just seeing them seems.... impossibly soft? Obviously not all the time, but I can't shake the feeling he knows the wol. This is supported by him talking about Amaurot and telling the wol, "Not that you would remember." And all of this just fuels my theory that the wol has an Ascian soul just... can't remember. If that's true, did they know Emet? Were they close? Is Emet sticking around because they were someone important to him? In the same scene he talks about how before the Sundering, they had families and friends and loved ones and how even Ascians' hearts can break, and given that that's in the same conversation it just makes me think there's something there. That his interest in the wol is beyond just being bored and wanting to see what happens. What are the high hopes he has for them? Why does he speak to them with such familiarity? Why does he look so soft when he sees them? He plucked Y'shtola from the Lifestream because the wol is sad and heartbroken that their friend is lost, and I just cannot fathom that he did it out of the goodness of his heart. Whatever feelings exist there, romantic or platonic or fucking whatever, there has to be SOMETHING. It doesn't make sense otherwise.

- Thancred and Urianger are married. They're married and Ryne is their daughter and they are a family and I am going to lose my mind at the end of this expansion when everyone goes back to the Source because she won't be able to go with them and that's not FAIR.

- Speaking of Ryne! I really, really like her and her arc. It was heartbreaking sitting through all the scenes where she talked about being positive that Thancred hated her because she wasn't Minfilia and Thancred refusing to speak to her about it because he didn't want to influence her decision, but her arc overall was very good and well done imo. I loved the scene where everyone talks about giving her a new name, and that Thancred chose the fae word for 'blessed', and just!! Everything about their little family makes me so emotional. That scene made me cry! I loved it!

#i feel like i had more but i can't remember rn lmao #ffxiv #ffxiv shadowbringers #shadowbringers #thancred waters #urianger augurelt #emet selch #ffxiv ryne

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kiribakuhappiness · 3 years

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👖 Are you a planner, plantser, or pantser? Is it consistent?

Ahh, this question is always so interesting!

First I just want to define the terms above - in case some people aren't aware of their meaning!

Planner: Relatively self-explanatory, a planner is someone who plans out their entire story from start to finish before they even think about writing it. Character backstories, settings, relationship connections, timelines, order of events and their significance, important symbolic details, everything is entirely fleshed out before that pen hits that paper or before those fingertips start tapping away at that keyboard!

Pros: - No need to stop writing for every new plot point/chapter - Generally very well fleshed out characters and scenes. - Plenty of room for constructing well thought-out foreshadowing.

Cons: - Takes a lot of time and effort before the writing process can even begin. - Generally very difficult to tweak details later on, as it creates a domino effect regarding the remainder of the preemptive planning.

Panster: Coined from the term "by the seat of one's pants," a panster is someone who gets a vague idea for a story and takes off running with it. No direction or planned events needed, just their juicy inspiration and a blank document! Pansters are also usually known for writing scenes out of order.

Pros: - Lots of creative freedom. - No feeling of being weighed down by a predetermined path/plot. - Great technique when writing a story that will contain a lot of plot twists.

Cons: - So. Much. Editing. - Will generally end up doing everything that a Planner would do, just later on in the game. - Character motivations + plot structures can suffer by becoming cloudy and unclear/unexplained.

Planster: Probably the easiest to identify/define after learning about the other two, but a planster is someone who is a healthy mix of both! Most writers are plansters, as the range is much more varied and so, by default, contains the medium average. Plansters will get a new story idea, make a few notes or plan out a few important scenes/details, and then use that like a vague roadmap for their stories similar to the dodgy early-2000's Google Maps Directions.

Pros: - A healthy amount of creative freedom when coming up with new scenes and characters. - Easier to make midcourse adjustments in regard to plot devices, foreshadowing, etc.

Cons: - Writer's block can set in when struggling to connect one vague predetermined plot point to the next.

As for my answer, I am very much a Planster, leaning more towards Panster! Usually when I come up with a new story idea, it's a very vague concept, but a concept nonetheless.

So, take Why Is Everything So Weird With the Lights Off? as an example!

When I started that fic, my only notes going into it were these (copy + pasted from my notes app):

Bakugou appears at Kirishima's door; he's been drinking (third year, reasonable age to engage in such activity). Kirishima's first time seeing Bakugou drunk. Bakugou has come to confess his feelings - Kirishima can't imagine why Bakugou would think that midnight on a school night is a good time to strike up a conversation, but what kind of friend would he be if he turned him away? Kirishima's chivalry to be a good friend battles internally with his desire to be with Bakugou as the night progresses. Bakugou is uncharacteristically touchy and honest about his wants to hang out with Kirishima (internally, he's frustrated that he keeps fucking up his attempts to confess, and so tries to stay later and later to get it right). "'M not fuckin' comfortable," he [Bakugou] says [from the makeshift bed on the floor], louder and firmer, as if that will change anything. From beginning - no attraction/romance detected between them. As story progresses - lines start to cross and blur and Kirishima's buried feelings for Bakugou become more apparent to the reader. (Their relationship has started to subtly change, as all relationships tend to do.)

As you can see, there's very little in-depth details here. I don't really go into long-winded explanations and I don't really focus on anything regarding the setting or plot points. Of course, the type of notes I take and the amount of attention to details I give vary drastically regarding the project, but the entire idea is at least glossed over so I don't forget it, and I always try my best to be firm when considering Character Motive (ie; Bakugou drunkenly arrives with the one and only goal to finally confess his feelings to Kirishima), the rest of the fic and all of its minor details come as a result from these motives.

I'll give another example where I went into A LOT more detail, again, copy + pasted from my notes app! Disclaimer: major spoilers for unwritten chapters regarding Fighting Tooth and Claw to Get Back to You.

[Upon UA Katsuki + Fantasy Katsuki meeting for the first time]

"It is fucking winter?"

"Yeah. It's fuckin' winter."

[Right before they switch back] - UA Katsuki experiences a darkness where he finally meets Barbarian Bakugou face-to-face. They approach each other, movements mirrored, and it's UA Katsuki who raises a hand out towards him first, which Barbarian Bakugou hesitates to accept (he is resentful and ashamed of UA Katsuki and believes him to be ignorant and immature). But UA Katsuki needs to know what happened right before the switch, he needs to unlock that memory, and Barbarian Bakugou is reluctantly curious about his unwavering determination, so they clasp their hands together in a strong grip and are thrust into a new place - sunny and filled with green grass. The barbarian clan is there, Dragon Eijirou included, as they prepare to train for several moons straight before migrating away for the winter. Barbarian Bakugou and Dragon Eijirou leave to go train on their own, unbeknownst to them that Eri is following. They banter for a bit and kiss before bakugou wraps an intimidating hand around his neck and jaw. "Are you going to fight me or not?" Dragon Eijirou grins at that, still giving him a sultry, distracted look despite the fingers clasped threateningly around his neck. "What do I get if I win?" He teases. Barbarian Bakugou smirks before he gives Dragon Eijirou's head a light shove in the opposite direction, who steps out of his space again just as easily as he had entered it. "Off, you dumb lizard," Barbarian Bakugou grumbled, still looking amused before he reached over and pulled the glinting, golden sword (All Might) from its holster on his hip and brandished it towards Eijirou, whose red eyes glisten with a new kind of want as he stared at it - the dragon part of him yearning to collect such a valuable treasure. "You would look good as a King, Katsuki," he tells him. Katsuki's smirk grows wider. "And you as a dragon, if you'd ever hurry the fuck up." He gave the sword a vague sway through the space between them and Eijirou's eyes flash dangerously. "Come and take it from me. I know you want to," Katsuki goaded. Eijirou turns into a dragon and they fight.

[Choice made when Imperial soldiers attack during their training session (mentioned at beginning of story by Sero)] - All Might (sword) is falling off the cliff's edge, while Dragon Eijirou is about to get shot by a piercing arrow. Barbarian Bakugou chooses to try and save Dragon Eijirou (abandoning the sword and his future Kingdom), who calls out "NO" even as a dragon who shouldn't be able to speak (he doesn't want Bakugou to lose his throne just for him), which causes Barbarian Bakugou to stop abruptly in shock. The arrow is shot and pierces Dragon Eijirou's underbelly. He lets out a loud roar before he plummets down into the forest out of sight (leading to his capture). Barbarian Bakugou sees red, reaching down to grab the nearest abandoned steel sword (one shown at beginning of story that UA Kirishima shatters) that he then uses to swing down and slice into the shoulder of the soldier that had shot Dragon Eijirou. More soldiers descend into the valley. Katsuki hears a scream and turns to see Eri lying on the ground, terrified as a soldier holds up a crossbow at her. "TO THE END OF ALL DRAGONS!" The man yelled (revealing that Eri, in the fantasy timeline, is also a dragon, and explains her fondness for Barbarian Bakugou when she joins their group and observes how he treats Dragon Eijirou with kindness instead of prejudiced fear). Barbarian Bakugou's feet move without thinking as he lunges in front of Eri, just as her fingertips reach out and graze along his shoulder before everything goes black.

When UA Katsuki awakes again, he is in the hospital on campus, and Kirishima is sleeping in the chair beside him.

[fantasy setting, after the switch back. Barbarian Bakugou - despite still being offered the throne for Musutafu - declines. Izuku and Todoroki are preparing to go back to the kingdom with the news of the vanquish of the Imperial Army, gazing out at Bakugou's barbarian clan as he absently moves about the crowd, barking orders and preparing his clan for travel. Dragon Eijirou joins them to watch as well.] "I am surprised to learn of Kacchan's abandonment of the throne. I thought there was nothing in this world that could replace his desire to be King," Izuku mused out loud to him. "He would have made a great leader."

Dragon Eijirou grinned from beside him. "You're wrong, Izuku," he states simply. "He already is a great leader."

Because of the complexity of the story, with all its many plot twists and such a large cast of important characters, my notes are far more in depth here than they are for my other fic - however, these notes wouldn't necessarily be structured enough to be considered a Planner-mindset, as there is still plenty of room for added details, dialogue, etc.

Phew! What a fucking post :,D a big ole chonker - I hope you enjoyed reading at least, if you've made it this far! 🧡

Fanfic Ask Game - send me a question! ☺️

#fic ask game #kiribaku #writing #personal #asks

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writing-fool · 3 years

Note

Hey, real stressed out right now, if you're not too busy can I get the Mlqc boys with a stressed out s/o? I'm in some need of some serotonin, love your work x

mlqc | so will i

Hi hun, I’m very sorry to hear that. I hope you’ll feel better soon. If this doesn’t end up giving you enough serotonin, I have something a little similar up on my blog: here

That said, I think I’m becoming a comfort writer, and I can’t really complain about that. So, here’s a couple of quick and loving headcanons for each boy.

Much love,

Victor

Victor isn’t actually all that cold as a husband anyways (and we ALL know author Ré likes their moody boys just a little gooey)

but when you’re stressed? oh boy this gentleman is ready to do anything in his power to make you feel better

he was deadass about to buy a whole spa before you stopped him and told him you just need him to hold you

“Oh. I...guess I can do that.” be careful, this man will not let you go until you feel better

as an excellent chef, he’s also The Person to ask when you need comfort food

mac & cheese? you got it. congee? already done. chicken noodle soup? yes yes.

the way to a person’s heart is through their stomach and mine is currently growling

on occasion, he’ll be the cause of your stress, and while he doesn’t want to favour you over his other employees necessarily, he does understand that sometimes you need a break

for once, he’ll be the one pulling you from your work

how does he notice you’re stressed? your reports become dangerously subpar. sorry hun, it’s the truth

if you don’t listen to him and keep working yourself to near death, he’ll just have to use drastic measures

did he swing you over his shoulder? yup.

did you low-key enjoy it because his ass is Immaculate? also yup.

he knows you like it when he pampers you, so when you’re stressed out, he’ll run you a nice bath with expensive oils and soaps

he’ll wash your back for you, digging his large fingers into those knots at the nape of your neck

afterwards, Vic will brush your hair for you, making sure you’re all cozy in your fluffy robe

he doesn’t like to admit it, but seeing you relax warms his heart and makes up for all the mediocre reports you write

Lucien

our favourite perceptive professor notices right away

i mean, everyone has tells when they start getting stressed out, and Lucien knows yours like the back of his hand

sometimes, he even notices before you do. how does that even happen?

prepare for the endless amounts of chamomile tea he’ll make you drink

Lucien’s very supportive of what you do, but he also reminds you that you need to rest like a filthy hypocrite~

so he’ll jot down cheeky notes in your agenda

14:00 / come have a relaxing walk in the park with me. ~L

7:30 early morning online meeting 8:00 have a lie-in with your favourite scientist. for research purposes, of course

you confront him about it and he’s just staring at you with this innocent look that’s absolutely illegal because you’re not innocent Lucien, not in the slightest i won’t believe it i’m not going to fall for it—damnit i fell for it

“Am I not allowed to take care of my little flower?”

is really good at clearing your schedule

like, suspiciously good

he’ll probably help you with anything you’ve got going on regarding paperwork, and instead of having to do research for a production, a whole stack of highlighted and marked articles will already be on your desk, waiting for you to quickly sift through everything

on a more serious note, he does know a lot about destressing and ways to relax

so he’ll suggest practicing mindfulness together, or something similar

from experience, these things may sound silly, but breathing exercises or meditation can really just refocus your brain on the tasks at hand to lessen stress. obviously though, this is all very personal

but he knows he can’t love your negative emotions away, so most importantly, he’s always there for you

whether it is to listen to you rant, to give advice or even just to soothingly rub his thumb over your shoulder

Lucien’s always right next to you, and that’s one less thing to worry about

Gavin

Birdcop! lately i’ve been associating him with bnha’s Hawks/Keigo, and i don’t know how to feel about that. but i digress

Gavin’s not the quickest to pick up on your emotions

like, he knows there’s something going on because his mind is filled with you all day, but he can’t really decipher what’s wrong

will just straight up ask you what’s going on, how you’re feeling, etc

i always turn Gavin into this really understanding and communicative, healthy relationship poster boy, but y’all deserve it

“Babe? Are you feeling alright?”

if the answer is no, this man just clears his schedule for a week, or a month, or a whole year Gavin you can’t ignore your responsibilities don’t—

not really, but he does go out of his way to spend more time with you

clocks out earlier, only does missions that require him,...

flies to you the moment he’s got time to spare

does so recklessly. gets caught by some people who, fortunately, are convinced it’s just some very weird humanoid bird. gets reprimanded by STF. does not care.

at home he doesn’t really do more than give you space when you need it, offer a listening ear when you need that. he’s really not doing anything grand, because that’s not really Gavin, but he lets you know that he cares, and that’s good enough.

Gavin will force Minor to look out for you at work, and will stage a freakin’ intervention if you’re getting overworked

“MC, you’re getting kidnapped.” wraps you into a blanket like a burrito and flies home with you in his arms

actually flying seems like a relaxing thing to do, especially at night

when the stars are twinkling, the moon is glowing, and you’re high above the city, all your problems seem just a little smaller

Kiro

the chances of him not knowing you’re feeling bad aren’t very small

he’s obviously very busy, and if he’s overseas...

being concerned that you’re going to be lonely without him like he is without you does make him call you as often as he possibly can

he’s a clingy pupper, what can i say

he picks up the stressed out tone in your voice though, even when you try to hide it

“Oh, Miss/Mr. Chips, you can’t fool me, The Best Actor Of All Time. Now, tell me...are you alright?” imagine him saying that last bit in like a hushed, slightly worried tone. i wouldn’t even be able to lie

he’ll let you complain as long as you want on the phone, even when Savin’s been calling him

he’ll just hide in the closet so he doesn’t get found

when he goes back home, the first thing he does is trap you in a big hug

he refuses to let you go, pouting about how worried he was, and how much better he’ll make you feel

“Because I’m your brightest star after all!”

if he’s free while you’re feeling stressed, for example, when you’re at home together, he’ll do something silly to cheer you up

like dance on the coffee table

yup. that’s why it broke.

i don’t think he’d be too focused on your problems, as in, he doesn’t need to know 100% of what’s going on

Kiro just kind of zooms in on the fact that you’re feeling sad, overwhelmed, stressed out, and he’ll do anything in his power to relieve that feeling

and that’s one of his qualities, to be fair

you’re not going to do stuff like have long chats about your feelings, but he is going to propose doing face masks together to calm down

maybe you’ll play a couple of video games together

at the end of the day, how could you worry when your sun is right next to you?

Shaw

look, i don’t know if you’re of legal drinking age...but Shaw’s coping mechanism is drinking and going out

so the moment you say you feel bad, he’s whipping out the wine, hun

lowkey wants to drag you to the club to make you forget about your problems...but even he realises how inappropriate that type of behaviour is

he’s actually a lot cuter when he’s a little tipsy

“Hm, beautiful.” “What?” “Nothing.”

Shaw’s also a huge diva, which is canon now you guys can’t stop me from making it canon

so you guys will have matching head bands on, face masks, glasses of wine, bottles of nail polish, talking about how horrible life is

you’re venting to him, and he vents back, and you just both come to the conclusion that life sUCKS, work sUCKS and Shaw...doesn’t suck at all

the next morning, you wake up slightly disheveled and a bit disoriented

but you feel significantly lighter

well, not physically, since there’s literally an arm slung around your waist

he doesn’t really change much about his behaviour...but you notice he’s a tad more affectionate

and a lot less mean

like, forehead poking suddenly turned into teasing hair ruffling.

tickling turns into soft kisses in the crook of your neck while you’re cooking

his rough hands intertwine with yours

“Don’t just overwork yourself, stupid.”

ahh, his words don’t match his actions at all

I had very little inspiration for Shaw...but I wanted to get this out ASAP. Feel free to send in any requests!

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aerynwrites · 4 years

Text

Liar - Javier Pen͂a x Reader

Author’s Note: Woohoo I’m BACK on the angst train baby, HELL YEAH! God, I love writing angst and I feel like I’m finally getting back into the swing of it! I hope you guys enjoy this little Javier angsty sad piece that I have here for you, and as always I love to hear what you guys think! <3

Requested? Yes! hello! i was wondering if i could make a javier peña request? something angst with a lot of drama maybe? like they have a fight about javier's one nightstands with other girls, thank you! (Requested by anon) AND Hi Love your blog :) Maybe some angst with Javier?♡ (Requested by anon

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: cursing and angst - SO much angst, this one is just sad I’m sorry XD

////

You sat at your desk, shuffling papers around loudly as well as sighing more than usual. Something that catches your partner Steve’s attention, as he sits in the desk across from you.

“Could you calm down? Your angry paper shuffling is distracting,” he muttered.

Your eyes lifted from your papers to look at the exhausted man in front of you and you let out a dejected sigh.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” you say leaning back in your chair, “I’m just…upset is all,” you offer lamely.

Steve lets out a dry chuckle before scribbling something down on his own papers, “Yeah no kidding. What’s got you all riled up in the first place? You’re usually pretty good about hanging up your problems as the door,” he observes, finally setting his pen down and looking to you.

You pursed your lips as you looked at your best friend. Steve had become one of your closest allies since you got reassigned to Colombia, and you pretty much told each other everything. But you weren’t sure if you could tell him about what was bugging you today.

So you shook your head, and looked back down to your papers trying to distract yourself from the issues running through your head, “It’s nothing I can’t handle Steve,” you assure, “Just some personal things I have to work out is all.”

You see Steve roll his eyes before they fall to something behind you and he sits up straighter, “Just in time Pen͂a! I have some things I have to run by you real quick.”

You stiffen slightly as the name of your other partner leaves Steve’s lips and he stands from his chair to greet the other agent with a clap on the back.

You feel Javier lay his hand on your shoulder as he walks over to stand by Murphy’s desk, “Afternoon, (Y/N),” he greets kindly.

But you shrug his hand from your shoulder and don’t look up from your papers, “Agent Pen͂a,” you respond coldly.

This short response shocks both of the men standing beside you, especially Javier. You were usually the kindest and most boisterous person in the room, telling everyone good morning and asking how there day was, and even bringing people coffee when the looked overwhelmed. So, to receive such a short clipped answer from you was very unusual, and Steve knew immediately that Javier was the reason for your less than chipper mood today. Javier, on the other hand, was very confused. Just the other day you all had been laying in his bed, sans-clothing, after a very rousing and heated evening with one another. You had been perfectly fine then, and yesterday when you both had worked together…so what had happened between then and now?

“Hey, are you okay?” Javier asked sincerely, going to put a hand on your shoulder once more.

You smacked his hand away and cast him a cool stare, “Just peachy Javier,” you grabbed your pile of papers from your desk in a rush and stood from your chair, “I have to go give these Ambassador Noonan,” you move past Javier without another word to him and look to Steve as you leave, “I’ll see you later Steve.”

* * *

The rest of the day had been like that, you not so subtly ignoring Javier, in favor of either burning a hole in the papers in front of you with your eyes or talking inly to Steve and the others in the office. It was absolutely infuriating Javier to no end. He wasn’t necessarily angry at you, more frustrated and confused as to what had you so obviously upset with him.

Steve let out a loud sigh as they both watched your figure retreat from the office to go home for the day, and he turned to look at his partner.

“You have to get the sorted out Pen͂a, because I cannot go another day like that,” he said in an exasperated tone, hands on his hips.

Javier looked to his partner incredulously, “Me? I don’t even know why she’s mad at me!” he defended.

Steve just shrugged and grabbed his jacket from his chair and walk towards the door, “Well go talk to her or something,” he suggested, “figure out why she’s upset.”

and then he was gone, leaving Javier alone with his thoughts as he too left the Embassy to figure out what had happened.

He tried to think over every single interaction you all had as he walked up the stairs of his apartment building to your apartment, which was directly above his. He stood in front of your door, hesitating momentarily before knocking three times on the wood. He heard shuffling around before a faint ‘Just a minute!’ was called out. Then the door was swung open, and your face seemed to fall into a scowl the minute you laid eyes on him. You had one hand on the door and one hand balled into a fist at your side.

“What do you want Javier?” you bite.

Javier feels himself bristle at your cold and dismissive tone and he crosses his arms, “I want to know what your fucking problem is,” he deadpans.

You let out a humorless laugh, “You want to know what my problem is?” you ask rhetorically, “My problem is you Javier, you’re a selfish asshole!” you exclaim.

Before you can stop him Javier is slipping past you and into your apartment, not wanting to have this conversation out in the middle of the hallway.

“I’m the asshole? You were the one treating me like shit all day at work, even though I didn’t do anything wrong.” He argued.

You closed the door to your apartment and turned on him, fire burning in your eyes, “You didn’t do anything wrong?” you almost screamed, “I heard you last night Javier, I heard you and our informant loud and clear.”

Javier’s moth dropped open forming an ‘oh’ shape as if he ad just realized what you meant. But then a look of confusion came over his face and he crossed his arms once again.

“So what?”

Those two words, two simple words and his dismissive tone, extinguished the fire running through your veins and replaced it with lead. Your heart fell to your stomach and a lump formed in your throat as your hands came to cross over your stomach, retracting into yourself.

“So what?” your voice cracked as you repeated his biting words, “So what?” you whispered again.

Javier was immediately aware of your drastic change in demeanor and he felt his heart constrict.

You looked up at him through the tears collecting in your eyes, “Did what he have not mean anything to you?” you ask desperately, “I mean I know that-“ you paused, not sure if you wanted to crack open this surely rotten egg, “I know that you aren’t the ‘settling down’ type but I thought that maybe-“

“Maybe what?” Javier asked, anger bubbling up to hide his insecurities and fear at what you were insinuating.

You quickly wiped a tear away that had slipped from your eyes and you refused to look at him, “I though that maybe you felt something for me,” you whimpered, “because I know I feel something for you,” you admitted, “something more than just sex.”

You heard Javier scoff, and that was the final blow that ripped your heart in half and you hugged yourself tighter as he stepped closer to you, almost nose to nose.

“It was just sex, (Y/N). Nothing more than a good fuck to release the pent up frustration that comes with the job,” he seethes.

He has to grind the lies out past his teeth. the only thing he wants to do is pull you in close and hold you and tell you that he felt the same way. He truly did feel something for you, but the idea of being in any kind of committed relationship terrified him. It played on his insecurities of if he was good enough for you or if this life was safe enough to even have a relationship. Yes he did feel a lot more for you than just physical attraction, which is precisely why he chose to sleep with the informant on your case. To not only get information as usual, but also to try and shove the thoughts of you from his mind. Yet, as he was there with the informant, the only thing he could think of was you beneath him, and that’s when he realized he was royally fucked over by his emotions and feelings for you.

But he held fast in his resolve to push you away. If he pushed you away he couldn’t hurt you anymore than what he already had right? That’s what he tried to tell himself as he took in the sight if you almost physically crumbling apart in front of him.

You shook your head as more tears fell and you were basically sobbing now, “I don’t believe you,” you cried, your fists balling up and hitting him roughly on the chest, “You’re lying, you are lying to me and I know it!” your breaths are ragged now, hiccups interrupting your words as you pound weakly at the chest of the man who stole your heart.

He finally clasped his hands around your wrists to stop your pathetic attack and pushed you away from him slightly, cringing at how much it emotionally pained him to do so.

“I’m not, and you need to accept that what we had was nothing more than a physical relationship,” he said, a certain finality in his words.

You felt stupid, you felt ashamed that the man you loved was looking at you like you were nothing, but you could see the guarded look in his eyes. A look that showed he had put up many, many walls to protect himself and others around him. You furiously wiped away the tears that wouldn’t seem to stop falling and walked swiftly over to your door, ripping it open and looking at the floor beneath you.

“Then get. Out.” The words come out bitter and clipped, yet your voice was still wet with tears.

Javier felt his composure falter slightly at this command and he felt frozen in place. He couldn’t even open his mouth to speak. So you, feeling anger and heartbreak overwhelm you, marched over to him and grabbed his arm, dragging him to the door.

“GET OUT! Get out of my fucking house Javier!” you shove him roughly out the door and you see him turn to you before you fully retreat back into the safety of your apartment.

“(Y/N), wait-“

“No. I hate you Javier. I will continue to work with you until we catch this son of a bitch, but don’t ever show your face here again. Now leave.”

The anger in your voice along with the resounding slam of the door in his face left Javier speechless on your doorstep. He felt his own heart break at the words you threw at him, but he knew he deserved them. He deserved ever single word. The quiet opening and closing of a door next to your apartment cause Javier to take his gaze from your apartment number to the source of the sound, and he saw Steve leaning against the wall a few feet away, giving him a disapproving look.

“What Murphy? If you’re gonna lecture me or something or tell me how horrible of a person I am then save it,” he sneered at his partner, “I’m well aware.”

Steve didn’t say anything, he just walked over to the dejected and lost looking Javier and squeezed his shoulder lightly, before walking down the stairs and out of the apartment complex. Javier looked after his partner, then back to your still closed door, painfully aware of the quiet sobs still coming from inside, before he followed suit. Leaving two broken souls in the middle of the hallway.

////

Permanent Tags: @lord-wolfgen @petalduck

Pedro Tags: @fleurdemiel145

#javier peña #Javier pena x reader #narcos #narcos x reader #steve murphy

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cowboypossume · 4 years

Text

so i reread keeper of the lost cities and here’s my fresh input:

a note before we begin: you know how people fake throw up at things on tik tok? this book is the reason i now unironically do that.

dex and fitz really have the enemies to lovers troupe going for them and i’m ok with it. i really am.

so do sophie and biana at the beginning but it fizzes out so a better description is enimies to friends to lovers

marhella and stina give me such power top energy i cannot express how much i think that contributes to people not liking them

speaking of stina i wish sophie didn’t just immediately hop onto the bandwagon of “oh she’s evil” without investing further, especially with how much she is written as a ‘good’ person (which i can and will defend to the day i die that good people don’t exist but that’s for a different day).

there’s way too much heteronormativity and Patriarchical Ideas mushed into the book. like three hole pages of a 488 page book of teenagers being like “oooooo girls like guys and guys like girls” only for della to join in. not to mention the amount of times keefe is the reason for those ideas because he’s teasing like “oh fitz has a girlfriend”

keefe and fitz didn’t have as many bonding moments™️ in this book as i remember, but they stil know each other really well, have comfortability around each other, and would make a 10/10 best friends to lovers troupe.

oh my god s o many crushes i swear. like two teenagers of the opposite gender really can’t not like each other apperantly

i miss read a line and really thought there was cannon sexism for me to do a whole ass rant about in the notes part of my analyzation but n o p e

but we do have classism, sexist stereotypes, and the fact that there’s been SO many characters who’ve spoken and ✨🌺far too many of them are white🌺✨

oh also: no ones disabled. which annoys me because their society is described as ‘euptopic’ almost implying that it’s something that makes people problematic, which,,,, no

ok a side note on the society, i understand that the story’s message (kinda) is that things that seem perfect are probably deeply flawed, but something tergan said stuck with me. on a page i can’t remember at the moment he says something like “[the black swan exists] in a society that doesn’t have rebels”, which it suck with me bc that’s boarderline dystopic if it’s not there already. it’s one thing for laws not to be broken, but when you think your society is so perfect despite it having obvious flaws and you think that no one rebels, then i really hate to break it to you, you have a massive rebellion about to occur; it’s just scented as foul under your resplendent nose.

please stop flirting. i get its part of teenagers being teens but i swear if i read “s/he realeased a breath” or “their heart fluttered” or literally ANYTHING like that god no.

yall. i missed dex. he actually has more role in this book than ‘you can gadget and we need one’ and oh boy i really missed him. he’s a BEAN and deserves better.

hole’s said everyone deserves better and i absolutely agree so we’re adding that note here.

if you do what i did and read this book out loud to one of your best friends who has no clue anything about this weird fandom and give fitz a really deep voice for no reason it’s comdy GOLD.

i really think i’m reading too much into this point but iggy seems,,,, symbolic to me?

like ok with humans, sophie didn’t ‘fit in’, right? like she grew up hearing things like “why can’t you be normal like your sister” (which i can do a whole other rant about how that will affect her for the rest of her life just a s k)

not to mention looking really different from her family and graduating high school at age twelve

but you know who never judged her?

m a r t y

so anyway sophie meets this teal-eyed, movie star smiled wonder boy who takes away her entire knowledge of everything she’s known while taking away her family too

and it turns out even in a place of weirdos she still manages to be the exception to everything

and she doesn’t have the comfort to hear what people are really thinking about her anymore (which as i said before say the word and i’ll deadass write a whole speech about how everything she heard will completely fuck up every relationship she has) which unfortunately means that she grew used to confirming people didn’t like her but now she doesn’t have that

she has to adapt to this new space and feel like she’s always felt, like an outcast in a place that was accepting, but yet again, she the exception to everything

but about halfway through the book she starts to become more comfortable around grady and edaline and that’s when iggy comes in

she finds him while cleaning garbage, and grady compliments her. they have a bonding moment and it’s because of this t h i n g. and then sophie actually feels proud not only does she take up a room, but she did something

and her new parents are proud of her

so she finally feels like she BELONGS because she helped out at the place where she lives/they work

to me it seems iggy is kinda a manifesto of the world building and character development that happens in this book

i think the plot/character arc is fixated a little too much on how different sophie is. like, i get it, she’s exception to everything, but the plot really didn’t need her to be that quirky. yes, she’s different, but there’s a lot more to the plot and her character than how different she is.

also, i had to reread pages a lot bc i needed an exact paragraph number and,,,, it’s really paced like a fanfic

some questions i have about the society is:

it’s established that they use books, physical papers, etc., and the only thing i remember about trees is the speech alden gave her about how she doesn’t know the name of their most popular tree, and the fact that people become trees when they die. even then i don’t think the second one is in this book. never o n c e do i remember something about planting trees that aren’t dead elf’s, so do they feel the affects of deforestation and that jazz?? like if they use trees, will they run out of them? can they??? and do they use the coffins of elf’s for paper??

this is more of a rant than a question, but here it goes anyway. in foxfire, students have a testing system very similar to the one in america: a huge test at the end of the year determines the future of a student. that in of itself doesn’t sound too drastic, right? well,,,,, not necessarily. several studies have shown that tests in general, but especially these types, don’t work. despite how good or bad of a teacher i think my past and current teachers have been, every single one of them hates this system that we have in place. they know it’s an unfair assessment that does it’s damnist to make you fail, and they’re trying so hard to denounce it. however, that doesn’t happen at all in the lost cities. in fact, most of the teachers pride themselves on failing students. so if elf’s are in such an advanced society, why do tests still exist? especially in an environment where the consequences are far greater than just staying back a grade.

so sophie’s figuring out that major problems exist in the world the elf’s created, right? i wonder if more society structured problems exist more than ‘oh bad people do things and the law justifies which is what’. like, as i’ve previously stated, there’s sexist stereotypes presented (like girls like dresses and guys don’t), but does sexism still exist? does racism exist? it’s established that poverty isn’t a thing because of the fund elf’s have at birth and their limited usage of money (which if you understand please explain bc i don’t really get how they buy stuff but still don’t use money) but if someone gets shipped off to exile, do they lose their money? is it possible for elf’s to starve to death because they can’t afford food? do they pay for food?? if they did starve who would they call? because someone on this website, who’s post i tried to find but i couldn’t so if y’all know what i’m talking about please link it, brought up a good point that elwin is a school physician, he shouldn’t be dealing with the near-death experiences sophie has, so who would they turn to? especially if they don’t have access to foxfire because they got exciled??

is therapy a thing in this world? sophie and dex could really benefit from it, yet mental health has only been brought up when someone went insane, which REALLY shows how little they think about it.

that perfectly transitions into my next point: sophie and dex’s trauma. i really don’t get the vibe that there was much thought going into their kidnapping, other than sophie needed something to trigger her inflecting ability and establish the black swan are on the good side, which really sucks because wow trauma doesn’t happen lightly. and the fact that it happened seems rushed to me, but i’ll come back to that. but anyway, their trauma doesn’t get developed that deeply in this book because it wasn’t given the space to. they were beaten, tortured, starved, gagged, and who even knows what else for t e n d a y s, only for them to find them again, repeat the process, but someone saves them and dumps them into an illegal city and they both nearly die from dehydration, coldness, and lack of concentration, and you’re telling me after three days of conscious of bed rest sophie wants to get her failing out of school over with? ma’am, it takes more time than that to adjust to THAT alone, not to mention the realization that “hey your entire life is fake because people genetically altered you to be their weapon in a war so much bigger than yourself” that was recently dumped on her. like,,,, you really expect me to think that three days is what made her feel prepared and CONFIDENT? no sir. i don’t buy it.

coming back to it being rushed: the book starts out slow and then really hits the ground running and doesn’t stop. so much more stuff happens in the second half of the book than the first and it never gets fully developed it feels like. in the first half sophie moves away but gets a new family and struggles a bit but adapts, fires maybe but hey don’t worry about it, dex hates fitz, fitz is ✨d r e a m y ✨ but our main girl doesn’t like him like that, right?, stina’s a bitch, and sophie is a quirky girl and telepath but can’t tell anyone. pretty basic stuff, not too plot intensive. the second half though: sophie almost fails her midterms but doesn’t, grady and elaine want to unadopt her (which that’s never really explained as to why they do that but ok) fires exist in san degio but they’re fine but they’re actually a rebel elf so..., sophie accidentally breaks a law but it was an accident so it’s fine, update on the fires: sophie burns herself trying to get the evidence that it’s a rebel elf and it works, she’s the moon lark and basically a weapon bc no one knows her well enough to evaluate her safety, sophie and dex get kidnapped but fitz can now transmit to her and she has two new abilities so it’s all good, trauma doesn’t exist except for nightmare you can fix with sedatives, sophie doesn’t fail out of school, and yayyy her family doesn’t want her remove their adoption. there’s probably a lot more that i missed, it’s just that’s a LOT of stuff crammed into a little bit further than the second half of the book that really could have been devolped or explore further instead of forcing into less than 244 pages, ya know?

fitz’s eyes are mentioned seven times, the first time being on page TWO of the novel

his smile is mentioned three times

alden says “no reason to worry” five times, he writes it once, and sophie points out he says it a lot so he chances it slightly to something like ‘don’t stress about it’ so i didn’t count those though i should have

speaking of alden, in this book he’s absolutely creepy, but something that stands out to me is how much he calls sophie girl. i didn’t count it, but he said “that’s a good girl” to sophie too many times for it to be normal especially when you consider how he doesn’t do it to anyone else.

i kinda forgot i was annotating for sophie’s anxious habit of pulling out her eyelashes so i got she did it twice, but i highly doubt that number

but i will keep adding to this when i actually do the words with my annotations.

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mendrax · 3 years

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My first review of Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time

Here’s my first impression under the cut...

The franchise as art.

Not just the Eva franchise but the concept of a franchise itself. Because franchises, as they exist in the world of filmmaking, are inherently a capitalist product designed for escapism. Let’s go to the movies for a brand new chapter in the ever-sprawling saga of commoditized characters conquering a new mile in the millennially trotted hero journey, yay! Isn’t that how you can describe the act of purchasing a ticket to the latest entry in your favorite franchise? And what’s so wrong with that, anyway? After all, we need our escapism when life becomes unbearable. It’s just a public service really!

And is Eva really that different? At the end of the day, no matter how avant-garde it can be, it’s still a product that we’ve come to consume, quite literally, again and again. Not only that, but it’s also a damn good profitable IP with millions of merchandise goods, box-office record numbers and, now, a distribution deal with one of the gods of capitalism: Amazon. Long gone are the days of non-profit experiencing of it. You can now legally pay to watch its whole audiovisual canon in Netflix and Prime.

Still, even after its paradoxical commodification, the text of Eva itself remains as a message of anti-escapism. No matter how many figures, blu-rays and streaming services you pay for, the message of Eva remains the same. A message that quite starkly opposes itself to this escapist consumerism. Even if, ironically, is this very message that, due to its humanity, has touched the hearts of millions who have then turned it into another comfort food. This is so sad, alexa play komm, susser tod…

Now, cynicism aside, the reason 3.0+1.0 elevates the concept of a franchise to an art form is, quite simply, because, at its best, art is a method of communication delivering a message that could only be delivered through its chosen medium. I could very easily tell you to go outside and touch some grass, talk to your parents and hug your dearest, but that’d never have the same impact as experiencing the Eva franchise from start to finish.

3.0+1.0 is a film that can’t work without experiencing all the films and TV episodes before it. I mean, it has its own beginning, middle and end but, really, its message can’t be as impactful without the other entries in its franchise. The film itself rehashes images and situations we’ve come to intimately know from its predecessors. Not only that but it converses with them, presenting nuanced and overt contrasts of key moments. Particularly in its final act, we see the reversal and echoes of a lot of moments from End of Evangelion. Asuka gets mangled, not by outside forces, but by her own doing. Misato gets shot but she survives this. Ritsuko shots Gendo, but doesn’t kill him. Shinji doesn’t punish Gendo by devouring him through Unit-01, but instead saves him by getting close to him. This last one might be one of the most heart-wrenching moments in the whole movie, which, it’s worth noting, serves as the wholesome counterpart to EoE’s bitter ending. To say nothing of the contrast 3.0+1.0 presents to EoE’s beach scene…

But these are all narrative points that, with some serious talent, could even be conveyed through literary form and film, as we know, its powerful because its an audiovisual medium. And here’s where Eva, time and again, separates itself from most, if not all, franchises in recent memory. Its images are not only narrative but discursive. I’d even argue that, come its ending, Eva uses images that don’t really advance its plot, but rather help to cement its discourse, its message. And its been doing that since eps 25-26… The last minutes of Eva will always be a Brechtian assault on the senses with images that demand to be studied and interpreted. They’re not there to finish the bedtime story with a kiss on the forehead of your overworked soul, but to shake it out of its zombie state and fill you with emotions you can’t even describe through words until much later, if at all… I believe that’s why a lot of us have come back to Eva again and again. Not necessarily for its plot, but for the rise of emotions and thoughts that bolt through your core as you experience its final moments and how they re-paint the whole journey you’ve just travelled to get there.

3.0+1.0 is filled with such images that, one day, I’d love to analyze. I’m still too shocked from having watched it almost 20 hrs ago and this is already too long, so I’ll leave this task for subsequent viewings… still my mind can’t help but replay certain images over and over, even as I write this… from Misato looking at the photo of her son and Shinji… Kaworu crying as Shinji extends his hand to him… the juxtaposition of Unit-01 lying on its side, staring at the phallic ruins of Nerv HQ, and Shinji, on the same position and equally sized, staring at the piano he played with Kaworu… baby Shinji blatantly rejecting Gendo, only to find comfort with his mom, and baby Asuka painfully looking at this from afar… to the shot of Shinji and Rei, discussing the neon genesis, on an dismantled theater, as frames from the TV anime are projected onto them and the brick wall behind them… I can’t word what these images mean yet, but I’m looking forward to doing it one day…

I suppose this has turned into a long ramble, but I’m still sure of my opening thought. 3.0+1.0 takes elements of every entry on the Evangelion franchise to express a message that could only be conveyed with such impact by having consumed the entire franchise beforehand, and it does so in a way that doesn’t perpetuate the comfortable escapism of other franchises. Its very message of anti-escapism and use of images that converse emotionally, aesthetically, and intellectually with the viewer prevent it from being purely a capitalist product designed for escapism. It’s a piece of art, worth of being discussed at the same level of any work from a grand master of any other type of art. But it’s also a franchise… hopefully this will inspire more franchises as art forms.

And now, as a post-scriptum, because no review of Eva is worth anything without some shameless personal history, I must say that my journey with Eva has been like none other piece of media… I was introduced by it at 18 years old, fresh out of high school, by the person who would become my best friend, and I remember, back then, finding it incredibly comforting and enigmatic. It helped me through a period of drastic change in my life, from changing majors halfway from English to Film, to becoming an older brother at 19 (after a life of being an only child). I was incredibly depressed and struggled with addiction for years after that. I related to Shinji and his perpetual running away from life but, now, seven years later I got to see the conclusion to that journey my best friend invited me to… I also earned my bachelor’s degree in film, have a comfortable job and have been sober for 10 months. I don’t run away as much but I’d be lying if I wasn’t still, somewhat, disconnected from most people in my life. To be honest, I related so much to Gendo’s story on this film and that scared me. It’s still hard to let people in but, still, there’s been some growth. Small victories that allowed me to accept this final film’s message as completely valid. It’s just so wholesome, isn’t it? And yet, there’s a bittersweetness to it… like in every ending, you’re glad it happened but it’s painful coming to terms that it’s over. I cried for a good thirty minutes after it was over, washing the tears away, only to stare at my reflection and turn into a sobbing mess… I’ll never get to experience anything like this for the first time and that’s just incredibly sad… still, I’m so fucking glad for it all, even the wait (as shorter as it was for me) and I do believe I’ll be able to say bye-bye, all of Evangelion… one day.

#evangelion 3.0+1.0 #neon genesis evangelion #Shinji Ikari #Kaworu Nagisa #rei ayanami #gendo ikari #Misato Katsuragi

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theplumsoldier · 4 years

Text

let's have some fun (this beat is sick) [1]

summary: donald finds himself attracted to the [smoking hot, yes u r] reader and when she realizes this, she decides to play the game of seduction. part 1 of 2 pairing: donald pierce x reader word count: 1672 warnings: vulgar language, eventual smut

The infamous Alkali-Transigen Reavers rarely had time off and this time was no different. Howbeit, that did not stop them from deciding on celebrating their latest catch, and so at five o'clock they brazenly took to a bar downtown. Donald Pierce had not necessarily expected to "get some" as it would appear his fellow Reavers did, but the night takes a drastic turn when his eyes land on a certain little someone.

The night was passing slowly, and to be quite true, Donald was not feeling it. Not the cheerful atmosphere, not the drinks, certainly not the music. When an elegant figure waltzed its way through the crowd, now that was something he would like to feel.

Your sultry mien quickly rubbed off on him, even from the unbearable distance separating you from his grasp, and it was wickedly wrong how hard he grew a just that sight.

Bare legs balancing on impossibly tall heels, tight dress - stopping just beneath your enticing ass and fuck, he could not tell if that red dress sculpted you or the other way around - held in place with spaghetti-straps. A single delicate, golden necklace laced tightly around your neck and when you moved to take a sip from your drink, he noticed your alluring, plump, peach-colored lips. Everything around you disappeared and all sound had ceased to exist as he watched you with intense lust. He watched your tongue dart out swiftly, and then he caught your nails. He could not make out the color from the booth he sat in, but they caught a glimpse of bright light and reflected right back at him. He never had been attracted to someone so dolled up, but you were simply irresistible.

A shove in the arm brought him back to his drunken group.

"What?" grumbled he, looking confused to his mate.

"At work," hinted the Reaver. "The three new field-policies. Aren't they the fuckin' same?"

"I discern no difference," shrugged Donald off, reaching for his glass and drank the remaining half of his beer, piercing eyes looking for you. But you had disappeared. "And Pretty Boy, if you're still talking work, you haven't had enough to drink. Next round's on me."

Donald's coworkers cheered and hollered at him, banging on the table as Pierce stole toward the bar.

You were nowhere to be seen.

Donald sighed and brushed his blonde locks back in place, placing his order. The night continued and many beers later, you finally revealed yourself. But you were no longer alone. You sat in a man's lap, playing with his hair, and Pierce's body tensed at the sight. How the man with jet-black hair held you in place with his hands, frustrated him exceedingly. This was around the time - meaning a dozen drinks past ten – where he usually would have gotten up from his seat and made his move, but he did not want to embarrass himself in front of all your friends.

Besides, Mohawk had already whistled a couple of fine-looking ladies to the table, so Pierce settled.

But it was not the same. As the woman on his left flirted with him, traced the heel of her stiletto teasingly up his calf, he could not help himself but close his eyes and imagine it was you. Your fingertips playing with his hair, your lips brushing against his cheek, your teeth teasing his earlobe, your nails drawing blood from his back as he ruthlessly—

"What's the matter wit' you, boss?"

"The pretty lady gettin' your worked up?" grinned Angelo and the woman who had now crawled halfway up Donald's lap giggled, preening in the thought, but Pierce knew. Only you.

He cleared his throat and tore his eyes off of your grinding body. Tapping the woman's thigh, he shifted. "Actually, I just need to take a piss."

She hummed, confused, and stood awkwardly as the man with the bionic hand marched away from the table.

Donald slowed down his pace as he walked past your booth, watching you intently. As you pulled your lips from the guy you ground your ass against, your eyes shot up, catching the man passing. A rush went through your body. The man beneath you sucked on your neck, but your attention was focused on Pierce. You could not help but smirk and shoot a wink his way. You would have to be blind not to have noticed his ceaseless eye-fucking throughout the evening. Any fool could tell you looked sublime, and you were all for the game, so when a stranger came around and blatantly flirted with you, you had to put on a show for the cyborg.

A part of you had hoped he simply would grab you by the neck and show you how a real man did it because to be quite honest, the one kissing you now was ignorant.

Pierce suppressed his lust and did his business, making sure to go the same way around when returning to his booth. Again, you locked eyes for a split-second and he knew it; he knew what you were doing.

Running a hand down his stern face he cursed, for he knew you were way out of his league, and his game had seen better days, so he saw no opportunity with you.

That changed later when you showed up at his table. And fuck me thought he because you looked even hotter up-close. Beautiful, even.

Leaning against the wall shielding the booth from the rest, you earned a few sultry comments from the men as they saw you. You paid no attention to his friends, however, merely biting the inside of your cheek and looking Donald suggestively up and down.

You put on a coy smirk, "hey there hot-stuff."

His eyes shot up from his drink, feeling a bag of TNT explode in the pit of his stomach. Your voice went straight to his cock.

"I've seen you staring all night. Wanna come over?"

All eyes expectantly landed on Donald, and as a smirk pulled at the corner of his lip, his mates could not keep their encouraging comments to themselves. Donald did not utter a word, instead, he stood to his feet, grasping your outstretched hand, feeling the tingle of your manicure.

As you led the way to an empty table, you cast a seductive look over your shoulder and found him looking you up and down, licking his lips.

Yeah, this was going to be a fun night.

Sitting on one side, you patted the spot beside you.

"Thought we were going to sit with your friends," wondered he, taking a seat. "Figured I'd get to know the man I'll soon have beggin'." You nodded toward your girlfriends and shrugged as if it truly did not mean much to you. "I mean unless of course, you'd rather sit with them."

Donald smirked at your words, admiring your confidence. He rested his arm behind you and leaned closer.

"I got everything I need right here, baby."

"Don't think I've never met a man with a gold tooth."

"Wanna feel it?"

Laughing, you shook your head at his boldness. "You're quite gutsy, aren't you?"

"Well, you've been teasing me all night, baby. I have to make a move before you move on to the next. I gotta admit, though, I ain't the beggin' type."

Challenge accepted.

"You don't think I can make you beg. . ." asked you while you teasingly drew a finger up and down his thigh, waiting for him to fill you in on his name.

"Donald."

You moved closer, taking advantage of how focused he was on your lips. Tilting your head to the side, you parted your lips teasing your teeth with your tongue. "Well, Donnie, I'll have you know men ain't nothing like themselves when I get on my knees. I'm Y/N, by the way. So you know whose name to mention in your prayer."

The images those words sparked. Fuck—

Donald took your hand from his thigh and placed it directly on the bulge in his jeans, pulling you close with the aid of his bionic hand. Keeping you mere inches from his face, his hand had a rough grip around your neck, and you could feel yourself get hotter by the second.

"You sure you could handle me, little girl?"

Licking your lips, you smirked up at him, his grip tightening just enough to elicit a gasp.

You subtly massaged his length through his pants, watching him breathe heavily through your long lashes.

"Funny you should ask that."

Holding you by the back of your neck, he kept you in place as he hungrily kissed into you. Squeezing your thigh, he moved his hands to your waist to lift you to sit on top of him. At the chill feel of his right hand, you gasped into his mouth, moaning out as you could not do a thing but imagine those cyborg fingers deep in your cunt.

Moving up in his lap, you sat just like you had with the guy from earlier. You had purposely put on a show for you admirer then, and now you sat grinding your hips against said man. He was rock-hard against you and you moaned into his mouth, biting on his lip as you pulled away.

Donald worked on your throat, licking and sucking until he found a sore spot, where he generously lapped. Your dress was too tight to sit with your legs on either side of him, but that did not stop him from sliding his hand between your leg and tease your inner thigh. What did stop him, however, was when he found that you did not wear any panties.

Halting his actions, he looked almost stupefied up to you, cocking an eyebrow.

"You little—"

You looked knowingly in his eyes and grinned at his reaction.

"This place is too. . . crowdy–why don't we go somewhere peaceful?"

"Baby, you're reading my mind. But there won't be no peace where we're going."

#donald pierce #donald pierce smut #donald pierce imagine #donald pierce imagines #boyd holbrook #boyd holbrook imagine #boyd holbrook imagines #marvel #marvel imagines #marvel smut #boyd holbrook x reader #donald pierce x reader

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titconao3 · 3 years

Text

tagged by @beguilewritesstuff

i’m going to change the formatting bcs i’m evil like that and must ramble on, feel free to ignore. as usual, i take these things way to literally and i don’t understand the questions, probably.

tagging: whoever’s into this!

indoor plants or gardens: depends on whether we’re talking in my place, or everywhere. If everywhere, both. If my place, none: i can’t be arsed to take proper care. also i’ve tried to have plants in pots and i tried to Do Things Right and it didn’t work out, so... i gave up. know thyself and thy limits etc

cloud-watching or star-gazing both yes both, as long as i have proper eye-protection from the sun for option 1.

water or fire ...uuuh.... watching a fire in a hearth etc (i mean, not Nero style, obv) is great? but the ocean too? i don’t understand T_T

paperback or hardcover hardcover: too heavy. but i often use an e-reader.

running or hiking: omg neither. running means dying lungs, Extremely Painful Knees, etc very quickly. Hiking is... idk, everything is bad: i get all the branches in my face, all the rocks start moving when i step on them, etc. Put me in a city and i can walk for hours; put me in nature and i #suffer. i have also been somewhat traumatized by people claiming “Oh come one it’s a small easy walk not even a HIKE” and it was in fact climbing up a small mountain with very narrow, gravely, unstable paths hugging the side of the mountain and if you stumbled, ti meant a fall so SOMEHOW i have become Extra Wary of the word “hiking”

sleeping with socks or without socks although with wouldn’t be a problem. i use a hot water bottle in winter.

fruit or vegetables fruit only if i can use them in a salad, or cook them LIKE a veg.

hanging plants or succulents see above re indoor / outdoor plants. succulents also mean repotting etc; they’re not care-free.

dark wood or light wood both yes both. i have both at home, in the same room.

handwritten or typed typed is way easier to read. ofc if we’re talking postcard, personal letter etc, handwritten is more pleasant, personal touch etc. my handwriting is terrible, btw.

instagram or pinterest: neither. who wants to see my face or what i eat? no one, not even me. pinterest: i don’t even really understand what it’s for apart from thing to filter out of my google & co searches.

braids or pigtails: on me, neither. my hair refuses (because length when it’s short, because it’s not thick enough if not, and in any case it just Won’t Stay In Place)

dc or marvel i’m not super familiar with DC, although Batman is my kind of character.

books or movies why would i choose? my attention span has drastically reduced since childhood, but it means it affects both.

oceans or meadows: meadows > flowers > sneezing.

forests or fields: see meadows above

sweet or salty oh yeah i’m def not one for sugar.

ice cream or chocolate you... you (person who created this) do know there’s chocolate ice-cream, right? but i’ll go with DARK chocolate. DARK only, 70% cocoa minimum. i can accept salt / pepper / coffee / mint if i MUST, in it. D A R K

hoodies or sweaters: tbh both but a hood is def good at times.

piercings or tattoos: i have or want neither. they’re cool on other people, but i don’t really feel a need for myself. If for other people, both, if for myself, neither.

summer or winter well, the cold is easier to deal with than the heat because once you’re naked you can’t take your skin off, but longer sunlight is good? probably??

boots or sneakers WhaT Am i DOinG How Am i SupPoseD tO KnoW

cars or motorcycles: public transportation ;-) but i have a licence for cars only, not motorcycles.

curls or straight hair: i have curls, if that is the question; on other people, idgaf

castles or cottages to visit? to live in? i mean, castles are super expensive to maintain... and what kind of castle? European Middle Ages? even among those, there is a Wide Variety in architecture. if we’re including more geographical & historical areas...

sunny days or storms: once again, *bafflement* storms are really cool to watch but can be destructive, and sunny days can be too hot or painful if i don’t have sunglasses but are pleasant if mild...

reptiles or birds: as pets neither. i don't want to be responsible for a living thing, and end up not caring for them properly because i’m too tired / not in the mood etc. otherwise, i’m totally cool with both. however... birds are dinosaurs are reptiles (private joke moment!!! @pixelbypixelfanfic do you remember that museum). a baby bird pooped on my once, idk if that counts. oh and i got adult bird poop on me too. this hasn’t happened, yet, with reptiles.

disney or nickelodeon: (what about if you’re not the USA) i have never been into what we think of Disney (princesses and THE CONSTANT SINGING), and don’t have nickelodeon here

strawberries or watermelon: well i’m not into fruit or sweet things, as previously established. Watermelon can go into salads, and strawberries one in a while are okay i guess?

essays or posters... i don’t understand. posters go on wall? do you people put essays on walls??? what IS the question *sobs*

phones or laptops or desktop desktop because big screen, big keyboard, separate mouse: more comfortable. if not, laptop. if i’m desperate and far away from both, phone.

glass or stone i drink in glasses, i wear glasses, i have Pretty Decorative Stones. ik, what are we talking about?

dark or light: if it’s a computer screen setting, dark. if we’re in winter and outside, light, otherwise it’s too cold. i need context!!1!1!1!

photos or paintings: uuuuh. i have a few paintings from my grandfather around, but not photos. that's, um. i mean. photos... that’s... old? or are we talking about stuff that stays on your hard drive? i have a bunch, from trips. as long as my face isn’t there, cool; i take them to remember. i’ve found that the action of taking the pic was enough to help me remember, not necessarily looking at them again: because i make the conscious decision of taking the pic, thinking about what i want to preserve,et c, somehow it sets the brain drive into memory mode, at last better than if i didn’t take pics.

circuses or theatres: neither; RL, live shows make me uncomfortable.

reading or writing i do both but i only write fanfic.

dogs or cats i like both, i would have neither.

poetry or novels poetry just leaves me cold. i know, i know, how dare i.

monsters or ghosts why choose?? (shaniac though)

thrift shops or libraries: i like browsing through thrift shops, and i’ve lost my voracious Real Grownup Book reading obsession that i had in my younger years. i like looking at silly mugs and cute objects and sometimes i’ll buy something, and Do Good at the same time when they’re charity shops!

fiction or non-fiction both, although these days fiction is mostly fic.

#tagged #tagging game #tagging thing

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mydarlingklaus · 4 years

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The Confrontation

So this is the second part of my “the merge” drabble which you can find part one here! I highly recommend you read part one first so it makes sense. This is going to be a 3 (or 4) part drabble that I’ve enjoyed writing about and hope you enjoy reading. I’ve already gotten great feedback for it. Leaving reviews on my ff.net account are appreciated. thanks :)

Summary: Aftermath of Klaus finding out that the twins have to merge. This is now the confrontation between Caroline and Lizzie.

(I will die on the hill that Klaus is Lizzie’s dad and no one can tell me shit!)

******************************************

"Mom?"

Caroline instantly lifted her tear-stained face from the palms of her hands to meet Lizzie's worried gaze from across the room. She didn't even realize how fast the school day went and it was already lunch time—nursing a second glass of scotch that had been beside her elbow since morning.

"Hey sweetie." Caroline greeted with a sniffle, wiping away the tears underneath her eyes. "I thought you were studying during your lunch break?"

Lizzie swallowed, taking in her mom's appearance of puffy red eyes and tear coated cheeks.

"Why are you crying?" She wondered.

Despite her distress, Caroline had to push it to the side and seeing her daughter reminded her of that. She still had a school to run and daughters to raise—-chalking up Klaus' absence as a 'time away for work in NOLA' with a quivering fake smile each time they asked. 'Fake it till you make it' was a phrase Caroline knew all too well.

"It's nothing." She brushed off with a hesitant smile.

"Obviously it's something." The braided haired witch challenged.

"What do you want Lizzie? I really don't have time to just talk. I'm very busy." Caroline snapped.

Lizzie scoffed. "Yeah, I can see that." Nodding her head towards the booze. "But fine we can skip the mother/daughter chit chat and cut right to the chase. I want to know why you've been lying to us."

Caroline's eyes grew and lump in her throat jumped at the abrupt—-and accurate—- accusation.

The charade worked, the first day, but Lizzie only grew more persistent. Constantly pestering and pointing out the holes in the fabricated story, mainly Klaus dodging her phone calls—he's never done that since she was able to use a phone.

"I—I don't know what you mean—"

She shook her head. "Don't do that, please don't make an idiot out of me more than you already have!"

"Keep your voice down. School is still in session." Caroline demanded in a hush tone.

The young witch telepathically slammed the door shut behind her, earning a glare from her mother.

"I want to know what happened to Klaus, and I know it was something because he's never ignored my phone calls or texts before. And he definitely never goes back to New Orleans without at least saying goodbye—emergency or not."

Three days.

Three long and antsy days had gone by since she last seen or heard from Klaus. She called all of his siblings but they to not have heard from him either.

Caroline couldn't get that look out of her head. His face full of such disgust and betrayal he could barely suppress his boiling anger—he hadn't looked at her like that since their first days of knowing each other, when he was the enemy and she didn't know what he'd mean to her.

Not that she didn't deserve it, but he didn't even say goodbye before she had to find out on her own when his things were packed and car missing. He was big bad hybrid Klaus, so she wasn't necessarily concerned for his safety, but not knowing where he was and if he was mentally stable caused just as much anxiety.

Caroline gave Alaric an earful for informing Klaus before she had the opportunity to, which only resulted in her feeling worse than she already did. She never expected Klaus to take the news about the merge lightly, but she underestimated how hurt he'd feel. He's feeling as helpless as she now does.

After hundreds of failed calls and texts, the only thing Caroline could do was impatiently wait for this return—whenever that would be. She didn't even know where he was, crying herself to sleep every night. Missing him, yearning and worried about him. Subconsciously reaching over to the cold vacant spot on the bed beside her where his warm body usually lied to embrace her in his arms as they caught slumber together. He was her refugee and security—now he wasn't. Caroline never felt more incomplete and unsafe.

It was driving her crazy not knowing his whereabouts or his well being—she couldn't pretend that the fragility of their relationship wasn't also packing into her anxiety.

Caroline sighed, standing from her office chair. "It's complicated—"

"It always is with you." She muttered.

"Hey!" Caroline sternly pointed her finger. "I don't care how you're feeling or how upset you are, you won't disrespect me."

"You have to give respect to earn it, and lying to me about where Klaus has been when you've seen me going crazy over it isn't exactly role model behavior."

"Lizzie—"

"What happened? Where is he!"

"I don't know!" Caroline blurted.

She felt all she could do in this moment was scream. As if her anxiety wasn't already thriving on Klaus' sudden disappearance her own disgusted wasn't making it better with her accusations.

"I don't know..." Caroline repeated, looking up at her beautiful daughter who's tear-filled eyes matched hers.

Lizzie cautiously approached her mother who was now holding her hand over her mouth to suppress her sobs. She pushed her hair back anxiously, swallowing her nerves while taking a seat and crossing her legs.

"Um, did you and Klaus like break up or something?" She asked, fearing the response.

Caroline shook her head, wiping under her eyes again. "No, nothing like that."

- Right?

Lizzie let out a subtle breath of relief.

"But it is something. Bad enough for him to leave out of nowhere. Please mom." Scooting to the edge of the chair. "What happened between you two?"

The obvious concern in her daughter's voice only worsened Caroline's guilt.

There was no one in this scenario she was more angry with than herself and she hated not having the answers Lizzie wanted, but she was scared. Scared to tell her the truth of why Klaus fled in the first place—possibly losing him was devastating but losing Lizzie or Josie would be soul crushing.

Caroline took a deep breath, leaning against her desk while grabbing both of Lizzie's hands. Her beautiful and smart Lizzie, with so many aspirations and goals for her future. How was she supposed to explain that in just a few years there's a 50/50 chance she won't have one?

"Um, me and Klaus had an argument."

Lizzie's eyebrows scrunched. "But you guys never argue, and if you do it's over dumb stuff like when he wanted to fly me and Josie out to Tokyo for our sweet 16 during a school week."

Caroline sadly laughed, thinking back on all of Klaus' outrageous and ridiculous gestures that made her love him so much.

"Yeah..." She sniffled. "Um, Lizzie there's something I need to tell you and I really wish Josie was here because it's actually something I need to tell both of you."

Lizzie gulped, suddenly feeling a shiver of panic run down her arms as Caroline continued.

"Jo, your birth mother, was a descendant from what is known as the Gemini coven. When you girls were first born I didn't know what that meant or the significance until your fifth birthday when you began developing your magic...that's when your father explained it to me."

"Dad?" Lizzie questioned.

- What did he have to do with it?

Licking her lips nervously, Caroline resumed. "Being apart of this particular coven comes with a price, a curse known as 'the merge', for every new set of twins. When Gemini twins turn 22 years old the merge forces you to participate in a duel against one another to determine who will lead the coven until the next generation. Only one of you is meant to survive..."

The young witch gulped again, as she tried to process what was being told to her. This was impossible information to digest and she felt any second she was going to puke.

"So...what you're saying is that, one of us will have to kill the other?" Lizzie asked, feeling more sick and confused with every burning question popping into her head and how it led to Klaus' departure.

- Did he know about this?

She wondered.

"More like absorb." Caroline clarified. "Whoever is to win the duel would acquire the other's power. That's part of why I was doing so much traveling a few years back, why I was away from home all those long and tortuous months. It was to find a cure or some type of loophole. We were hoping this would be something neither of you would even have to know about, let alone experience."

- What the hell?

Was all Lizzie could think. She felt frozen in the uncomfortable chair, barely listening anymore to her own mother justifying her reason to keep her death sentence a secret her entire life—their lives.

Josie.

How was she supposed to break this down to her sister when she didn't fully understand it herself? Lizzie's entire life felt like a lie. What other secrets were her parents keeping from them?

How did her life take such a drastic turn in a mere of a few minutes? Just yesterday she was brainstorming prom dresses and venue ideas for the dance. Post-graduation plans of going off to New York for college and stressing over if Sebastian would follow her wherever she went. Would their relationship even make it to graduation? Would she live in dorms or pursued Klaus to pitch in for an apartment? Design school or major in literature? She was supposed to be thinking about the beginning of her life, not the ending.

"I know this is a lot to take in at once and you must have a million questions that I'm more than willing to answer." Caroline said, making Lizzie blink—-one, two, three times as she mentally jumped back into the conversation. Her face still blank as the words spewed.

The letters G-U-I-L-T couldn't be bolder on her mother's face if they tried. Her pleading blue eyes and quivering bottom lip did nothing to sway Lizzie from her state of shock.

"You can't imagine how sorry I am we didn't tell you girls sooner, but it's what we felt was best at the time. We wanted to wait until your 18th birthday with the hopes we'd find a solution by then, and you girls would be old enough to understand..."

Lizzie still said nothing.

Caroline squeezed her hand. "Sweetie I know this is scary and overwhelming. Believe me this wasn't easy on me or your father having to keep it from you and your sister, definitely not how we wanted to tell you. It wasn't our intention to lie. This was an impossible decision to make, everyday it killed me that you girls didn't know but...how do you tell your children that there are things you can't protect them from, not even each other?"

One tear fell down each of Lizzie's cheek, unsure if she was more angry or sad—maybe a lot of both. Her life was flipped, disintegrating, literally hanging by a thread and the only person she wanted to console in and seek advice from was MIA.

"You should have told us..." Lizzie finally said, coldly, when she eventually found her voice. Abruptly snatching her hands from Caroline's and placing them in her own lap.

The small—-microscopic—-understanding part of her brain was quickly being dominated by her burning rage.

Her lips quivered as she stood to her feet, stepped outside the chair to increase the distance between them. Seeing Caroline's face dramatically drop made her stomach turn, briefly, then she was reminded why she looked so distraught in the first place.

She shook her head frantically. "You—you should have told us, way before now. Way before you encouraged us to live our abnormal life as greatly as possible. Remember that?"

"Lizzie—"

"Instead of giving me and Josie false hope that we had any chance of getting out of this shit town to do anything we desire, you should've just told us the damn truth!"

"Elizabeth Saltzman!" Caroline stomped her foot powerfully, enough to shake the ground.

Lizzie knew she was crossing the line but her anger piled on top of each other until it became its own monster. But she didn't care about, not anymore.

"I had dreams, real goals for my future mom." Lizzie sobbed. "For the first time in years I felt normal and was genuinely happy. My mental health was managed and I was actually looking forward to living. I was going to leave Mystic Falls, did you know that?!"

Caroline gasped. "Wh-what?"

Lizzie scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Of course you didn't, why would you? But yes I had a whole plan mapped out to leave this place after graduation. Go to school somewhere new. I wanted to stay stateside for now, probably New York with Auntie Rebekah or Los Angeles with Uncle Kol. Just to start a new life, my own, in a big vibrant city where no one knew who I was. Where I wouldn't be the neurotic witch, the bipolar freak, Josie's sister, or Caroline Forbes' daughter...I'd just be me. Attending whatever college I wan and make new real friends and finally live my life!"

Lizzie looked heartbroken, as the hot tears dogged her vision.

Caroline opened and closed her mouth. This was brand new information. It never occurred to her that either of the twins desires to flee the small town they've known as home—-neither ever brought it up. This reminded her a lot of herself at their age, stores she's told them multiple times in disguise of bedtime stories. Which only pained her more that Lizzie didn't think she could confide in her about these incredible dreams.

"You—you never told me about that."

"You never asked." Lizzie fired back, crossing her arms over chest defensively.

Caroline nodded. "You're right, I should've. I've been so invested in so many things lately I allowed them to overrun you and I'm sorry. I should be more involved in your future as well as your present—"

"Is it because you know only one of us would have one?"

Caroline's eyes narrowed offensively.

"Lizzie, of course not. I always had hope we would find something by now and I'm sorry we didn't. I'm sorry this is how you found out and that all of this is happening. You have to know this is the last thing I wanted for either of you." She pleaded, reaching for her daughter who instantly pushed her hand away.

Her chest tightened at the blatant rejection.

17 years, neither of the twins had ever been genuinely angry with Caroline before, besides basic teenage angst. Never were they full blown hateful or disrespectful, not that she blamed her but the justification didn't lessen the pain. The way Lizzie was staring at her, with such disgust and hurt pulsing through her bloodshot blue eyes made Caroline's stomach turn. She was taking the full beating for something initiated by both her and Alaric—-she'll relay the anger towards him later.

It was the same way Klaus looked at her.

Pulling a tissue from her bag Lizzie wiped her nose, biting down on her bottom lip. Growing more enraged by the second as the realization settled in and raised her eyes.

"He didn't know either, did he?"

Caroline licked her dry lips anxiously.

"Answer me." Lizzie demanded through her clenched pearly white teeth, huffing out a puff of air when her mother responded.

"No, he didn't."

Pacing, back and forth, in her corner—pinching her bottom lip between her shaky index finger and thumb Lizzie felt she was at her wits end. Despite her shattered exterior, it was comforting to know Klaus was just as in the dark about the situation.

She was certain she wouldn't be able to handle Klaus of all people lying to her too.

The young witch eventually stopped pacing, hanging her head low with her hands firmly on her denim clad hips. Trying to gather all her thoughts best she could but every conclusion had the same tragic outcome. Lizzie loved her mother, with everything she had, but this was a life decision she and Alaric made about she and Josie's life. This was a huge secret they voluntarily kept from them since birth—no matter the intentions it was wrong and harmful and drove away the only person in her life who's ever been honest with her.

Quite frankly she was too hurt and confused to care about anyone's feelings but her own.

Caroline stood patiently by her desk, waiting for her daughter to break the tension any second now.

Lizzie sniffled. "Klaus, um—Klaus wasn't an easy adjustment when he officially became apart of our lives. I didn't know what he was supposed to be to me and Josie, what Hope was supposed to be. There was a moment, brief, but a moment where I didn't want either of them around. I never told anyone that."

The baby vampire felt all her emotions bottling up in the base of her throat at her daughter's shocking admission.

"Klaus quickly became one of the most important people in my life—probably the only person I could depend on fir anything, but especially when life became overwhelming." She explained, blinking away her thick tears. "He was always the one who told me to dream big, to never limit myself no matter how far fetched it seemed. He encouraged all three of us—me, Josie and Hope—to get away from this small town the first chance we got if that's what we wanted. He wanted us to live. He was the most constant thing I had and you took that from me, you took everything from me..." She shook her head side to side, still not entirely processing the devastating news.

Caroline's chest caved and heart fell to the pit of her stomach. Hearing all of this—-what Klaus meant to Lizzie and vice versa—broke her heart more than anything she's ever encountered in her 25 years of living. All the death and tragedy that's surrounded her since knowing the existence of the supernatural held no water to the familial bond she broke between father and daughter.

Seeing Lizzie so distraught was gut wrenching, and knowing nothing she could say would make her pain go away. Caroline had to admit she underestimated the reactions from a kept secret fueled by good intentions.

Swallowing back her tears, she tried reaching her hand out again. "Lizzie please—"

"Klaus left because of you. He abandoned us and it's your fault!" Lizzie screamed, aggressively pushing her away and unintentionally blowing out the lights in Caroline's office and the outdoor hallway.

The ground shook—like a mini earthquake—but enough to rattle around everything in the large office space. No doubt the rest of the school felt it just as intensely. Caroline covered her ears and slightly lost her balance, tripping over her feet as the shaking wound down. Her initial mortified gaze now stunned and proud at her girl's amazing abilities but Lizzie wasn't letting up—leaving now room for praise.

"He left because he couldn't bare to stare at your lying face anymore than I can." She said exhaustedly. Voice hoarse, face blank and wet with tears.

Her body was present but it seemed she consciously wasn't. She had no more energy to give. After all the cries and yells she was mentally drained, not even enough to show a reaction to Caroline who was practically sobbing in front of her. Maybe there was a rational side to this, maybe, somewhere deep inside her core surely there was a justification. But Lizzie didn't have it in her to search for it, not now and she wasn't sure if she ever would.

Caroline pressed her quivering lips into a tight line, staring up at the ceiling to clear the glassy film over her eyes before fixating on her daughter again—no such luck. The rage, understood, the grief—valid. But the blatant disrespect was exceeding a level of inappropriate she didn't think was possible.

"Lizzie." She said sternly, approaching her with an equally reddened face. "This is a lot, I get that and your anger is beyond justified. I love you, and Klaus, and I really wish he was here right now but he's not. I don't know where he is yet. I don't know when or if he's coming back anytime soon and I'm sorry I can't provide you all the answers you want, but what I do know is that I'm still your mother. No matter how upset you are that is never going to change and you will not speak to me anyway you want. Is that understood?"

Lizzie swallowed audibly. Her body still facing forward as she grabbed the doorknob and twisting it with her shaky wrist. Staring Caroline down with a glare so sharp, it defined the phrase 'looks can kill'.

"You're not even my real mom. You're just the surrogate, remember?"

- Wow.

Caroline's stomach dropped, knees buckled and face drained of color and emotions. Her undead heart grew colder and weaker and body shriveled like a flower during Winter time, as Lizzie's haunting last words repeatedly stabbed her in the chest, over and over again. Her mouth opened and closed but no words came out—-there were no words to explain how Caroline was feeling. Even if it was a heat of the moment outburst, the blow couldn't have been any lower.

She didn't think anything could hurt more than watching Klaus walk away, until her distraught daughter stormed out the door without another look.

*****************************************************

Night time came quicker than anticipated. The school day came and went, and an exhausted Caroline couldn't be more relieved to be in the comfort of her home. Thankfully the house was empty, giving her all the alone tone she craved. Throwing her keys on the marble countertop after closing the door behind her—immediately making her ear upstairs to her room to drop off her bags and laptop.

After the horrific confrontation with Lizzie, the remainder of the afternoon Caroline was stuck with paperwork, phone calls, meetings and delinquent students. Never her favorite moments of the day but it was the perfect distraction from her personal life. The last thing Lizzie said still ringing in her ear and making her bleed by the lobes.

You're not even my real mom.

- Yup, still stings.

Still in disbelief Lizzie had it in her to say such a thing—to want to hurt her that badly. Bringing back the negative memories of when the twins were first born and everyone referred to them as Alaric's instead of theirs. Having to fight and prove she was worthy of the title as a mother, as if she wasn't the one who carried them for nine months and nearly died from it.

Her past frustrations beginning to mingle with the new.

She hadn't seen Lizzie around campus since and didn't make any attempts at calling or texting. Caroline figured she needed some space, it was a heavy case load of information that she was nowhere near prepared to drop yet. She wondered if Josie knew yet, or even Hope.

Caroline heavily sighed—-wanting nothing more than a warm bath, jazz on vinyl and a Cosmopolitan to was it all down.

Now in her bedroom, she prepared for just that. Her leather jacket, black pumps and laptop bag suffered the same fate as her house keys—carelessly thrown on the nearest surface. Running her fingers through her golden blonde curls with another sigh leaving her lips, taking as many breaths possible.

Looking down at the freshly made queen sized bed, she briefly paused, realizing this would make night four of sleeping in its comfort alone. No more safe and warm arms wrapped around her waist, holding her body snugged against his front. Light kisses and seductive licks up her exposed neck. Humming to sleep with a lazy smile as he whispered dirty confessions and sweet nothings on her ear. No more whispered 'I love yous' shared in the dark when basking in their mutual glow after making love.

She missed him...god did she miss him. Everything about Klaus made her feel so whole—never feeling more loved in her entire life. It amazed her how quickly he became a focal point in her life and how, just as quickly, he wasn't there.

This was the longest they've gone without speaking to each other and it was pure torture.

With that thought Caroline sat up on her bed, legs tucked under each other's and pulled her iPhone out her purse.

Her throat tightened—biting down on her bottom lip apprehensively as her thumb waved over his name in her contacts list. If she had a heartbeat she would've heard it pounding crazily in her ears by now. Giving their recent track record, the likelihood of him answering her at all was slim to none...

- What the hell.

Realizing she had nothing to lose, Caroline sucked in some bravery and pressed the 'call' button with a shaking thumb. Holding the device against her ear impatiently but, per usual, she was directed to his automatic voice message system. She wasn't too surprised he turned his phone off but more by his other skills.

Even for being centuries old and, usually, technologically challenged Klaus had enough knowledge on modern technology to disable the tracking feature.

Caroline smiled to herself at the sound of his distinct and seductive voice for his voicemail, remembering when she begged him to record one and how it took 15 minutes to persuade; nearly bursting into tears before the beep.

- This is so pathetic. You look pathetic and needy but if you just hang up now you can redeem some of your dignity.

Going against her own subconscious, she remained on the phone and quickly composed herself while clearing her throat at the sound of the beep.

- Shit.

"Hey, it's me but you already knew that because my number is in your phone." Caroline began with a sad smile and picking at the fabric of her pants with her fingertips. "Um, so I know your phone has been off the past couple of days and you're not exactly in the mood to talk to me now which I understand but um...I hope you're okay. You're on my mind everyday and...well I've had quite the day, a pretty shitty one actually and all I wanted to do afterwards was come home to you. Whenever I feel horrible I go to you, not because it takes one shitty thing to know another or anything like that. I just—" She smacked herself on the forehead.

Now she was a rambling mess, per usual when put in nerve racking situations but she caught herself. Closing her eyes for a second to release a long exhale before continuing.

Her blue eyes already welling up like the sea.

"You always make me feel better because, well you're the love of my life. That's still surreal to say, um, but it's true. You make me feel safe and valid, even when I probably don't deserve it. You're my greatest supporter, shoulder to cry on. You give me comfort, and I could really use some of that right now." She sniffled into a smile, shaking her head. "I'm so sorry, for everything. I regret keeping that from you when all you've ever done was be honest with me, but even more I regret letting you walk out that door. I didn't realize how much you were the glue keeping his family together until you were gone. We need you home, I need you. I miss you, and I really wish you were here."

The minute she hung up the phone, with a final tear streaming down her face, Alaric appeared in the doorway with bugged eyes and frustrated expression on his face.

Caroline's eyebrows pulled together in concern as she stood from her bed.

"What's wrong?"

He sighed, leaning one hand against the threshold. "It's Lizzie, she's gone."

*******************************************************

Klaus stared intently at the wall of his dark studio—sketchbook resting on his lap and a glass of bourbon in his hand. Everyone else in the house were in their respective rooms, likely asleep, but he was wide awake and alone.

He didn't intend on staying in New Orleans longer than a couple of days—-fleeing wasn't in his plans either—-but every night he'd close his and an image of the twins lying lifeless in the dirt flashed before him and jerking him awake. The news of the merge wasn't something he wanted to accept, nor something he could avoid—Caroline avoided it long enough.

Caroline.

His Caroline. His light, his love, his everything and more—who he now couldn't look at without feeling immense anger. With all the progression they've made through the years, from a friendship to blending their families he couldn't fathom why she didn't think she could confide in him. Why she didn't trust him with the truth about the girls—their girls! Now it felt too late, not enough time to be there for them the way he promised. Five years were nothing. They'll fly by in a blink of an eye, which one of them would be dead and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Despite his animosity towards her, Klaus missed Caroline the longer he stayed away. Over a decade she played a crucial role in his heart and finally having her in his life intensified the already burning love. He missed kissing her before going to sleep and distracting her from work responsibilities. Everything about her made him happy to be alive. They never went more than a day without speaking, let alone him abruptly leaving and not at least informing her of his whereabouts.

He transformed into a wolf that first night, running wild and free in the dark woods of Mystic Falls for the whole night. Desperately trying to but out his frustration that never left. The urge to rip apart anyone who stood in his way was strong. All he saw was vibrant blood shot red as the moon washed through his dark brown coat, howling to himself in despair. Klaus was usually incapable of controlling his beast but demonstrated remarkable self control as he regained form any kills and turned back to a two-legged man when the sun began to set. Getting dressed and driving off to New Orleans like his life depended on it. Compelling his way through speeding tickets and hitchhiker's blood for the road, before finally arriving to his home.

Living under the same roof with Elijah, Freya and Hayley again wasn't an arrangement he missed in the slightest. Just as nosy as ever with their millions of inquires when he arrived on the front door. Thankfully all his irritants of siblings didn't live together anymore, but it didn't take long for word to spread to Rebekah and Kol who bombarded his phone with invasive questions. Hayley was probably the most respectable. After receiving the reassurance that Hope was safe, they spoke briefly while he unpacked. She knew his surprise arrival was Caroline related but didn't press him for information like the rest of the Mikaelson clan—Klaus appreciated the discretion.

Eventually he turned his phone off, not just to ignore his siblings but to also fight the temptation of reaching out to a certain blonde. He was in no shape to speak to her right now, and their last confrontation wasn't pretty either. Instead he buried himself into his art and community to distract from the shenanigans known as Mystic Falls.

Klaus' ears perked and eyes shot up when he sensed a presence outside the mansion—his suspicions confirmed at the sound of the doorbell repeatedly ringing. He threw his head back with a groan, certainly not in the mood for any surprise company—not to mention it was the middle of the night.

Ring. Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Fuckin' hell." He mumbled, rolling his eyes.

After finishing off his drink, Klaus slammed it on the table and stood from the chair with murder on his mind.

Storming towards the front door he yanked it open with as much force as he could muster, fangs out and vampiric eyes already golden and threatening.

Klaus' body stiffened.

His jaw clenched and stomach dropped as he held the door open. A mix of emotions ran through him as he stared in awe at the blonde girl before him who was looking back at him with the doest of eyes.

"Lizzie?" His voice almost a whisper.

"Surprise!" She hesitantly waved. Her half lip-glossed smile made his chest jump and hands soften.

After the initial shock faded, his eyes observed her appearance to make sure she was at least in good condition before he lashed out.

She had an overnight bag hanging on her arm and backpack thrown across her back. It was a fairly warm night, so her washed jeans with a cropped black sweater and tennis shoes was perfect attire; however, not typical Lizzie-like attire. Her wavy blonde hair was still perfectly in place.

Klaus nearly cried at the sight of her angelic face, for more than one reason.

- What the hell is she doing here? How did she know I was here? Is she here alone?

She was safe, good, now he can be mad.

"What—what are you doing here in New Orleans, at bloody 2 A.M. no less?"

"Klaus I—"

"How did you even get here?" He asked.

Lizzie gulped. "I—I flew."

"You flew, alone?" Klaus' eyes widened with his assumption.

She nodded.

He shook his head in disbelief while running his fingers through his curls irritably as if he felt a migraine coming along.

"Are you mad!" Klaus stepped closer towards her. "You drove through the French Quarter, on your own for the first time in the middle of the night. What were you thinking? Anything could've happened to you Lizzie do you realize that!" He growled.

"But nothing did. As you can see I'm fine!"

Words couldn't describe the amount of fear running through his body and blood rushing to his brain, at just the thought of anything going awry during her journey. Whether it be through the airport or on her way to the mansion. Lizzie's safety being compromised in his own city. He didn't even care that he was yelling.

This was New Orleans, boundaries were obsolete. He's seen what can happen to girls wandering around the city alone—he's had his fair share of sins. Knowing he'd paint the entire state of Louisiana red if anyone even thought of touching her.

Klaus rubbed his hand over his face, taking a deep breath while trying to calm himself.

Licking her lips nervously, Lizzie sighed.

She knew he'd be shocked to see her but maybe she overestimated how much.

"Look, I know you're like really pissed off with me and I get that. There's an actual explanation which we can talk about all of it inside but...you wouldn't by any chance have $60 to cover my cab? I kinda already told the driver you were good for it."

Just when he thought his night was uneventful.

**********************************************************

part 3 coming soon!

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #klaroline fanfiction #lizzie saltzman #caroline forbes #klaus mikaelson #KLAUS IS THE FATHER LIZZIE DESERVED!!#and they'd be inseparable #my writing #klaroline shippers club #caroline's voicemail was my fav part to write #and the klaus/lizzie scene obviously #lizzie saltzman-forbes mikaelson

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ljf613 · 3 years

Text

Red String Theory, Part One (Rough Draft)

The fifth-grade class was filled with chattering children. “This so cool!” “It’s so stupid and gross- why do I have to learn about some girly-” ‘My parents told me years ago.” “I’ve never even heard of-” “My dad says that was he was a kid, they didn’t learn about it in school until seventh grade!” “No way!” Everyone seemed to have an opinion on the subject. Everyone, that is, except for a girl sitting in the corner of the room, sunglasses over her closed eyes, running her fingers along the bumpy pages of her book. She wished everyone would be quiet. She was the first person to hear the teacher coming down the hallway. The moment she heard the familiar footsteps, she stood up, grabbed the white cane lying next to her, and walked over to her desk. “Class! Please settle down and get to your seats! I know I’m a few minutes late, but that’s no excuse to disturb other classes. Now, I know what I said yesterday, but we still need to get through this week’s vocabulary words.” The entire class let out a collective groan.

After the vocabulary lesson, the teacher erased the board. “Alright class, today we’ll be learning about the red string. By a raise of hands, how many of you have seen it?” Three hands tentatively rose up from different sides of the room. “Three out of forty-four-- more than than I was expecting. When I was your age, none of my classmates had seen it yet.” One boy in the back raised his hand. The teacher called on him. “Umm, what is the red string? It seems kind of like, ummm,” he said nervously, “It’s like everyone else here already sort of knows about it, but I never heard of it until you mentioned it yesterday.” “That’s a very good question, Andy. Some of your classmates know about it because their parents or siblings have told them, but some parents wait to tell their children until they’re older, or let the teachers tell them.” At this, several of the students let out sighs of relief. Evidently, they’d been as clueless as Andy, but hadn’t wanted to admit it. “The red string,” continued the teacher, “Often referred to as ‘the red string of fate,’ is an invisible, intangible- that’s one of your new vocabulary words- red string that is tied somewhere on your body.” A couple of the children started looking at their arms, checking for a red string. Of course, they didn’t see anything. “The string connects you to your soulmate. Now, many of you already know that much. What most of you probably don’t understand is what a soulmate is, and how the string connects you.” A tall girl in the back of the class raised her hand, and the teacher called on her. “A soulmate is the one person who you’re meant to be with, right? And following the red string will lead you to them-- so romantic,” said the idealistic girl. “It’s not quite that simple, Olivia,” said the teacher, “You three, who can see the string, do all of you have String Since Birth Syndrome (SSB Syndrome)?” The two boys nodded, but the third student, a wispy, short girl shook her head. “It just appeared yesterday, when you mentioned that we’d be talking about it today. I didn’t really know what it was, so I hoped you would be able to explain what was going on.” The teacher looked thoughtful at that. “Hmmm…..Well, Adam and Jared, have either of you ever tried to follow the string?” The boys nodded sheepishly. “Did either of you ever find the end of the string?” They both shook their heads and sighed. “It’s to be expected,” explained the teacher, “You’re both very young and have plenty of growing to do and choices to make. Your soulmate isn’t set in stone, after all.” The girl in the sunglasses was listening carefully, and was now very confused. An invisible string tied you to your soulmate, but who your soulmate wasn’t necessarily determined? And yet some people could see it? Why hadn’t her parents ever mentioned the string to her? Was it because- “In your life, you will make many, many decisions. Some of those decisions will change the course of your future. Where you go to college, what job you have, where you want to live. That’s what it means to have free will. Different circumstances in your life will make you into different people, and your soulmate is the perfect match for the person you become. Some theorize that a person may have as many as seven different potential soulmates. That’s why, other than the occasional SSB, the vast majority of children and teenagers can’t see their string- because you all have so much potential, and could become anyone.” All the children (other than the girl in sunglasses) were staring uncomprehendingly at their teacher. She realized she was going a little too deep for them. “Let me put it this way,” the teacher said, “You guys know how identical twins, who are genetically the same person, can have totally different personalities?” The students nodded, some of the turning to look at Adam and Michael, the two identical boys sitting next to each other. They knew all about identical twins with drastically different personalities. “Well, you’re all sort of like that. When you’re an adult, you could be anything, and choices you make and circumstances that you go through will make you different types of people. And just like twins will need different soulmates, if you become an artist in Paris you’ll need a different sort of soulmate than if the become President of the United States. That’s why you SSB boys couldn’t find the other ends of your strings- your lives are going to take plenty of twists and turns before meeting your soulmates. And the person who might be tied to the other end of that string right now might not be the one you eventually meet.” The kids more or less understood that one. A cheerful looking boy in the corner raised his hand. “So if my soulmate could be anyone, then when will I be able to see the red string?” “Good question, Sammy. Unless you have SSB Syndrome, you won’t see the string unless you’re really ready to meet and commit to your soulmate. That’s why, even if they’ve only just met, unless they’re underage, soulmates will usually get married right away- they know that both of them are committed to building a future together. Which is another reason why there aren’t many kids- or even college students- who can see the string, and why almost no one who can’t see the red string gets married. They aren’t ready to commit.” The classroom starting buzzing. This was definitely news to all of them. It took a few minutes for the teacher took get them all settled down. “Now, as I was trying to explain before you all worked yourselves up into a tizzy, when someone without SSB Syndrome can suddenly see the red string, it usually means one of three things.” The teacher started writing on the board. “Number one, and most common,” she said, pointing to the first line on the board, “People who are already in a relationship. Can anyone guess why? Yes, Jennifer?” “Ummm, because if you’re dating someone,” said a brainy girl in the front row, “They’re likely to be someone who makes you happy?” “Very good, Jenny. Your soulmate is probably not a starving in some third-world country-- they’re someone whom you’d probably meet anyway-- and maybe already have. In which case, it’s very likely for two soulmates to meet and start dating before the red string appears. The red string will only appear when both people are ready, and sometimes, even if they’re dating, two people have too many things to do with their lives before they’re ready. I just want to be clear, though-- this does not mean that just because two people are dating, they are soulmates.” The girl in the sunglasses sighed. This was so complicated. “Number two,” continued the teacher as she pointed to the second line, “Someone who needs their soulmate. Yes, Andy?” “My mom always says that no woman needs a man.” The teacher sighed internally at that one. Andy’s mom was a wonderful single mother, but she didn’t really believe in soulmates. “Like I said, most of you probably don’t really understand what a soulmate is. Now I know that all of you have been really sad at one point in your life, right?” The students all looked at each other. Where was she going with this? “Well, when you’re really sad, sometimes you just need a friend, right? A shoulder to cry on, if you will.” Some of the students nodded along-- including the girl in the sunglasses. “Well, a soulmate, aside from being a romantic partner, is also the best friend you’ll ever have. Sometimes, when someone is going through some hard times, they need their soulmate to help them get through it. That’s probably why you can see it now, Millie-- either you or your soulmate needs someone to be there for them right now.” Millie-- the short girl who hadn’t been able to see the red string until yesterday, looked puzzled. Clearly, she didn’t need anyone there for her right now. “The third reason has become much less common than the others, especially with younger people, but used to be the mainway most people found their soulmates.” The teacher pointed at the third line on the board. It just said one word: Ready. “Sometimes, people are just ready to find their soulmates. They’ve decided what course they want to take with their lives, and they’re ready to share it with someone else.” She erased the board. “Alright, the test will be the day after tomorrow. Does anyone have any questions?” Most of the class raised their hands or started calling out. One by one, the teacher patiently answered each of their questions and was about to let them out to recess when she realized one more student had her hand up. “Yes, Mattie?” The teacher was surprised. The quiet girl rarely spoke, let alone asked questions in class, and the teacher didn’t know much about her. “How will I know if I’ve met my soulmate?” “That’s what I just spent the entire class explaining! You’ll be able to see the--” That’s when the teacher remembered. The aloof girl in sunglasses was blind. A few days later, Millie’s mother was diagnosed with cancer, and she died six months after that. Luckily, Millie had her soulmate to help her get through it. Seven years later, Jared met his soulmate in his AP English class, and he married her two days after graduation. Adam met his soulmate when he went away to college, and Sammy, who’d chosen to stay and work in town, discovered that his high school sweetheart was also his soulmate. But ten years after she’d sat in class and learned about the red string, Mattie was still looking for her soulmate.

#short story #original work #scene one #first draft #spelling mistakes #and all #i wrote this two years ago #and haven't touched it since #it needs a lot of work #and i actually haven't written the rest yet #even though i have an outline and know what i want to happen #is this something you guys would be interested in seeing more of #?

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whalohs · 5 years

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i’m back with meta.

( and then immediately i hecked up the tags, so deleting and reposting. sorry for the spam! )

let’s look at caleb and jester’s relationship, as mainly a retrospective of where it started. i’m also going to talk about where it has gone since, and how the heck we got here. not particularly shippy unless you ship it already (in which case i hope you enjoy the ship meta), and ready to discuss anything as long as you’re respectful about it.

as always, general disclaimer: for me, it’s more interesting for me to think “[character] would do this because [actions]”, rather than “[character] would do this because [player preferences]”. i can’t claim to know the critical role cast, and i think it does a disservice to their characters if i try to bring them in like that. a weird distinction, i know, but i always think it’s important to mention! i try to distance my meta from the cast, and take the character’s actions by their own merit.

anyway.

for all we joke about how ridiculous jester is or how much caleb was ready to run from the mighty nein, it’s hard to deny these two had a really, really rough start. jester was everything caleb didn’t want in a person, and caleb was someone jester never... really had experience with.

lemme explain, first with caleb’s perspective: caleb is running from trent & the cerberus assembly. the last thing he wanted was to be noticed or seen, let alone get his name out there in any way shape or form - and yet here comes the most silly, obnoxious, ready-to-turn-the-world-upside-down tiefling he has ever met, and he met molly at the same time.

naturally, he hates it. but it runs a deeper than having to travel with someone who doesn’t give a shit about discretion when caleb is discretion personified. i think when we dislike someone, it’s because we see parts of ourselves reflected in them; not necessarily all bad, but parts we have lost, never had, or don’t want to acknowledge.

it’s important to note that while caleb and jester are very different, there are parts that are shockingly similar; caleb started as a very hopeful, bright, and confident young man at the time he entered the assembly, not unlike where jester started in their adventures ( now is a different story, and i’ll get to that later ). they are both stubborn in their ideals and put a lot of faith in the people they care about ( caleb with nott, jester with the traveler, marion, and fjord ).

i would not be surprised if caleb sees a little bit of his younger self in jester. but the conflict occurs where he sees his younger self as a very flawed, terrible individual, while jester is not... that. he simultaneously wants to protect her from becoming jaded (as anyone with experience tends to want to), while also knowing she could make very awful mistakes (like he did) if left alone.

that said! jester is the way she is because she was able to foster her positivity, her hopes, and her ideals in a way that didn’t come and bite her in the ass. so it’s not “jester is caleb pre-development”, and more “jester and caleb are two different results due to different experiences from similar individuals”. unfortunately, caleb can’t think like that with the experiences he’s had, hence all of this.

i think that it’ll make more sense from jester’s perspective: jester’s living conditions weren’t perfect by any means, but they weren’t exactly trauma central, either. she had loving, kind people in her life that allowed her to develop by encouraging what she enjoyed, as opposed to molding her a specific way. again! she was able to grow the strong parts of her personality - her hopes, her positivity, her confidence - in a way that didn’t come and bite her in the ass. she doesn’t regret anything that she did, because she has never had a reason to.

you could say that she doesn’t have enough experience to see the negative consequences of her actions, and i both agree and disagree. experience doesn’t always equate to hardships; while failure is an important part of learning, it is not the only way you learn. caleb is not necessarily more experienced because he suffered negative consequences, but because he experienced more types of consequences.

that said, she is sorely lacking in some experiences! primarily in dealing with people with different wants and opinions than her. having a loving, encouraging, but ultimately sheltered environment likely means she got to have a lot of things her way. and we see a lot of that at the start of the campaign.

so the simplest way to say is: jester has never really had someone who dislikes her for who she is. she has never sat through a level of conflict resolution her and caleb needed, and so in an attempt to do things in the way that made the most sense for her, basically got off on the worst foot.

and so, you know, this goes on for a while. start of campaign two is hilariously turbulent for the both of them. caleb makes nice because he sees the benefit of someone like jester in a party (and not much else), and jester isn’t going to treat caleb any differently than she does anyone else. hence, friction.

then the money conversation / argument / caleb-smears-mud-on-his-face-out-of-spite happens. which i think really was a bigger turning point than we originally thought it would be (because the nature of the fight wasn’t too serious), mostly because caleb took forever to warm up to the party (disclaimer: i love caleb).

it’s interesting because it’s the one of the first times we actually see... any actual conflict involving jester. most people brush jester off as the quirky weirdo at first, and doesn’t take her opinions as seriously as others. that makes sense, and jester is fine with that! but that’s what makes caleb’s reaction to jester basically saying she grew up spoiled really fascinating.

he’s furious, and rightfully so. and caleb back then was keen on making sure he didn’t attract any attention, that unless she really struck a nerve he was just gonna nod and not think about it. but as we saw -- that’s not how it happened. i think he especially felt stung because he tried to help, because she had been distressed, but all of it backfired terribly.

so they fight. they’re upset at each other. caleb smears mud on his face then walks away and i think it hits jester on the head that oh, what she said without thinking really did upset someone, when she hadn’t meant to necessarily make them uncomfortable.

jester, for the limited social experiences she has, is a very empathetic person. it doesn’t take a lot from her to understand why he would have been upset by what she said, once she cares enough to consider it.

the remainder is a gradual, but noticeable change to where we are now; while it’s outdated and my opinions on details have changed, i did write a shorter meta on caleb and jester on an earlier episode point. i think the bulk of it stands true, though, so feel free to read that and then come back!

spoilers: they’re destroying me now.

a few things i did want to add: i think a lot about how out of all of the nein, the main people who notice jester’s slowly dwindling confidence are caleb and caduceus (beau, nott, and fjord notice it too, just in a slightly different way; and yasha is.... bring ashley back 2k19). caduceus pretty much has 3 million in insight so i’ll touch on that later, but fitting caleb in here is interesting!

mostly because he likely, again, experienced that dwindling confidence in finding his place in life, just in a more drastic way than jester; he pretty much hit rock bottom at the start of the campaign! he’s definitely projecting a little, but a lot of relationships are built on people projecting parts of themselves to others; it’s the easiest way to relate to another person.

as an aside: it really is cool, and speaks to his development a ton, that caleb’s motives for helping the party have become a lot more altruistic than when i wrote the post above. he cares about them now, very, very deeply, and i have a lot of thoughts on why! this just isn’t the post for ‘em; maybe next time.

how he comforts her has changed too. before it was a lot of [ throw frumpkin at her and hope it fixes the problem ]; his attempts at bringing the party together were definitely more material in nature, compared to now.

it’s also really, really good to see jester slowly starting to see the “imperfections” in caleb ( the ones that caleb sees, anyway ), and accept them wholeheartedly. again! she is an extremely empathetic person, and once they understood each other it became a lot easier for her to actually provide the support he needed.

it’s the subtle things; less jokes at his expense, and more ridiculous things in general. sharing porn with him because she thinks he’ll like it. and, a surplus of optimism about her outlook on life that seems to affect the top row a ton.

they’re all in love with her. i can tell. that’s okay, jester has two hands and a tail ( i had to ).

so, where are we now? it’s obvious enough to say that they’re friends, good friends at that! they care about each other a lot! caleb makes the softest faces at jester and jester grins so happily at him and they really do have a good thing going.

i think the biggest change in caleb is that he trusts her enough to rely on her for things outside of her abilities. i think a lot about the conversation they had recently after talking to the scourger, and how caleb let himself be comforted by jester instead of denying her attempts completely. it speaks to the level of emotional vulnerability he is comfortable showing to the group now.

that said: i definitely consider jester to be the group baseline for caleb. liam has mentioned multiple times that out of all of the nein, jester is the one person who he doesn’t want to share his past with. which, again, given the juxtaposition in their upbringing, makes a lot of sense!

but the fact that he’s willing to be vulnerable with someone he didn’t want to be vulnerable is huge. the fact that he doesn’t see her optimism and ridiculousness as a weakness for the group, and instead looks to use them as strengths (how they use polymorph is a huge example) is very different than beginning-of-campaign caleb.

the biggest change in jester is that her worldview has expanded to understand what caleb needs, and how that might be different than what she needs. it wasn’t as huge strides for jester as it was for caleb, but i think that makes sense! a lot of jester’s development is internal, and reflects a lot about what she thinks of herself, whereas caleb’s development has been very external, and how he is beginning to view the people around him ( and allowing himself to be viewed ).

but still! it’s huge! jester has two decades of solving problems a certain way, and being told that that way was all that she needed; but her ability to listen, comfort, and provide insight in ways that others in the group can’t thanks to her unique world view really helped shaped the types of conversations she had with him.

a really, really simple way to say this is that jester started taking caleb a lot more seriously. which i think is hilarious, because you’d think that’d be more fitting for caleb’s thoughts on jester. but once she started reaching out to him to understand, the tone of their relationship changed. it seems less caleb-indulges-jester-on-nonsense and two equals who indulge each other on ridiculous nonsense, if that makes sense?

oh that said: i do attribute a lot of caleb’s relationship changes with the party to the fact that he went through a lot of external development. definitely not the place for that here, maybe i’ll come back to it some day.

well i’m back and surprising no one i wrote like 2k words on critical role so welcome back, me. i’m rusty and rambly and i may have written things here that aren’t as poignant as i wish it was, so please forgive me if anything seems off!

#critical role #jester lavorre #caleb widogast #the mighty nein #widojest #sure lets tag the ship why not #not particularly shippy though #just good ol character analysis #anyway i love them #i wrote all this in one sitting then never saved it #so we're really living life on the edge today #yolo #meta meta meta #what if i didn't suck at tagging #why is tumblr so hard

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