#I can explain the plot in the replies if anyone's interested :)

[princesilverlining]

Haven't posted my music in a LONG time but. Here. Food for people interested in my music :)

This one is a test ost for the rpg maker game I'm planning to make. It's still in the writing phase, but I'm trying. It's my first time making a game and I want it to be a horror, or at least ominous. I've never written horror before, so I'm unconfident in that respect, but I'm hoping I can create a compelling atmosphere with the ost!

[pitlanepeach]

From Eden | Chapter Three (3/8)

Oscar Piastri x Francesca Gold (OFC)

Summary — Francesca Gold is an introvert with a quiet life and a Youtube channel where she talks about books, drinks too much tea, and rarely ever shows her face. She prefers it that way - tucked into her London flat with her cat, Henry, and safely hidden behind a screen.

Oscar Piastri is a Formula 1 driver. Fast-paced, high-stakes, always on the move. He hasn't read a book in years, but he's watched every single one of Francesca's videos. Just for the sound of her voice.

Following her on Instagram was a moment of weakness. He didn't think she'd notice.

She did.

Chapter Warnings — Mentions of agoraphobia + severe social anxiety, depressive episodes + references to a skin-picking relapse.

Notes — This one gets a little more plot heavy. Oscar is down bad. Also: this is an extra chapter and won’t effect Thursday’s chapter. I just had an extra lunch hour today, so finished writing this one :p ENJOY <3

“Can you be brutally honest with me?” Oscar’s voice was low, thumb skimming the rim of his coffee cup.

Mark looked up from his laptop, one brow raised. “Aren’t I always?”

Oscar exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. They were tucked into the corner of the McLaren motorhome between FP1 and FP2. Early enough that exhaustion still clung to Oscar’s eyes.

“Is it ridiculous to have a crush on someone I’ve barely ever spoken to?”

Mark blinked, taken off guard. “Depends. Are we talking celebrity crush or real-life?”

Oscar gave a small, sheepish smile. “Real-life, I think.”

Mark frowned. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone, mate.”

“I’m not. We’ve just messaged a bit.” He paused. God, this was harder to explain than he’d thought it would be. “She’s… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about her.”

Mark leaned back, studying him. “Different, then?”

Oscar nodded. “Yeah. She tries to pretend she’s interested in all this,” he gestured vaguely, “but I can tell she isn’t. Not really, you know? She didn’t know what Prema was.”

Mark snorted. “Blasphemy.”

Oscar smiled faintly. “She’s funny. Smart.”

Mark’s gaze narrowed with something like amusement. “Mate.”

“I know,” Oscar muttered. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” Mark said, almost gently. “It’s human. Let yourself have a bloody crush. You don’t always have to be so straight-laced.”

Oscar looked down at his hands.

“You think she likes you back?” Mark asked.

A beat. “I think she’s scared of me.” Oscar admitted. 

“Scared?” Mark huffed out with amusement. “Of you?”

“Not me,” Oscar clarified. “Everything I come with. All the… noise.”

Mark nodded morosely, and they sat in silence for a moment. 

“She’s not a public figure then? Not a model or whatever?” He asked. 

Oscar shook his head. “She’s got a bit of a following — YouTube, TikTok. But she keeps her life pretty much private. She’s spoken a bit about having, uh, anxiety in her videos. I don’t think she goes out much.” He swallowed. “It would be selfish to drag her into all this.”

Mark let out a slow breath. “Christ, mate. You really don’t make things easy for yourself.”

Oscar gave a tired smile. “I like her. I barely know her. But I like her.”

Mark nodded, like that made perfect sense. “Cool. Are you willing to adjust your entire life to fit her into it?” It was blunt, but it was important. 

Oscar looked out the window. His chest felt too tight.

After hearing her mention the word agoraphobia in one of her videos, he’d gone online that same night, quietly scrolling through lists of the world’s best specialists like it was normal. Like it made sense to do that for someone he’d never even met.

“Yes.” He said. 

Mark gave a low whistle. “Right then. Let me know when she’s ready to meet me. I’ll be charming.”

He got up, wandering off toward the espresso machine.

Oscar stayed where he was, staring down at his phone.

Her name was still there, in his Instagram inbox. Pinned to the top. 

He’d messaged her, said good morning, hope you have a good day. 

No reply yet.

But maybe her silence didn’t mean no.

Maybe she just needed time.

And for her — he could wait.

—

Francesca stared at her phone from where it sat on her nightstand, face down like it had personally offended her.

She wasn’t ignoring his message. Not exactly. She was just… thinking about it. Strategically.

Instagram DM’S — Oscar Piastri > Francesca Gold

Oscar Piastri Good morning, hope you have a good day

Sent over three hours ago.

She’d seen it the second it came through — blurry-eyed and half-asleep, Henry kneading at her stomach — and had immediately freaked out. 

They weren’t strangers anymore. They weren’t quite friends either, even though sometimes it felt like they were. Which was confusing. And stressful. And annoying. Because he messaged her almost every day, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Sometimes he sent her pictures. Dumb memes. Videos of him wearing the ugliest shade of orange she’d ever seen. Updates from airports and racetracks and hotel lobbies across the globe. And sometimes — sometimes — she swore he was flirting. But then she’d read it again, a few hours later, and his words would sound completely neutral.

She was probably just imagining it. Her delusional little brain, making connections where there were none, twisting things into something soft and sweet when really, he was just being polite.

He was nice. That was all.

Still, she couldn’t help the ache of hope when his name lit up her screen. Or the way her stomach flipped every time he used her name. Or called her cute, in that maddeningly casual way that made her feel like she’d misread the whole thing.

Her thoughts had been in overdrive for days now — overthinking every message, every pause in conversation, every hour that passed without a reply.

She hadn’t even told Katie how bad it had gotten — this ridiculous crush that she had.

Henry climbed up onto her chest, purred once, and flopped dramatically across her collarbone. 

Francesca sighed and picked up her phone.

She typed morning :) good luck today

Paused. Deleted the smiley. Rewrote it.

Deleted the whole thing.

“Oh my god,” she muttered. “I want to kiss his face off and I can’t even send him a good morning text?” 

Francesca Gold 

good morning :) good luck today. 

Oscar Piastri 

Are you watching? Sessions abt to start 

Francesca Gold 

oh okay! i’ll go sit on the sofa and watch :) 

Oscar Piastri 

You don’t have to. I was just wondering if you were 

Francesca Gold 

i want to! honest

Oscar Piastri 

If I see a Sky camera, I’ll smile at it. Just for you

Francesca stared at her phone, her entire body growing warm. 

Then, very quietly, she whispered, “What the hell am I supposed to do with that?”

It wasn’t even a flirty message, not really — not in a way that could be called out or laughed off. It was just… sweet. Earnest. And it made her stomach twist in that now-familiar, slightly inconvenient way.

She reread it three times.

If I see a Sky camera, I’ll smile at it. Just for you.

Francesca buried her face in the throw pillow, let out a muffled squeal, and then immediately sat up again, anxious that he might see the “typing…” bubble and get scared off.

She got out of bed and moved to the sofa, switched on the TV, and immediately the Sky Sports intro was playing, the theme music already etched into her brain from the past few weeks. 

She settled into the sofa like it was a war zone, heart pounding like she’d just run a marathon.

Francesca Gold that’ll make sitting through the noise worth it.

— 

She made herself a cup of tea during the commentators’ intro to the session, settling onto the couch with Henry curled beside her. The screen flickered through overhead shots of the track, the pit lane, the garages.

She was watching the timesheets update in real time when Sky briefly cut to Oscar in the McLaren garage.

He glanced at the camera.

His eyes widened.

And then — he smiled.

It was small. Barely there. But she knew. She knew it was for her.

Her stomach flipped so hard she almost dropped her mug.

Trying to act normal — like a person with functioning social skills — she picked up her phone and took a snap of the TV screen, just as the shot panned out across the McLaren garage.

She uploaded it to her Instagram story with the caption: “Get a load of those orange minions 🙄”

He’d probably find it funny.

God, she hoped he’d find it funny.

She just… wanted to see him smile again.

— 

She was working on exporting the video she’d just filmed from her memory card to her computer when Oscar’s name popped up on her phone.

A missed Instagram video call.

Francesca stared at the phone like it might combust in her hand. Then a follow-up message came through.

Oscar Piastri Was gonna ask if you wanted to chat but realised that might be a bit scary lol. No pressure x

She hesitated. Tries to not freak out over the ‘x’. And then, almost in spite of herself, she responded. 

Francesca Gold: you can try again if you want. i’ll pick up. promise.

Her heart was a full drumbeat by the time his name flashed on the screen.

When she answered, the video was a little shaky at first — Oscar was clearly walking through the paddock, AirPods in, a McLaren cap on, and an amused smile tugging at his mouth.

“Hey,” he said, casual but warm.

Francesca was curled up on her sofa in an oversized hoodie, Henry asleep and purring softly beside her. “Hi,” she whispered.

“You answered,” he teased, dimples flashing. “I thought you might block me instead.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she murmured, hiding her smile behind the collar of her hoodie.

He grinned, front teeth flashing. “So. I saw your story. ‘Orange Minions’? Really?”

Her cheeks flushed. “It’s fitting…”

Oscar laughed, shaking his head. “It’s papaya, by the way. Not orange.”

She narrowed her gaze, deadpan. “It’s orange.”

“Papaya,” he insisted, mock-offended. Then, softer, “But I liked it. I liked knowing you were watching.”

Francesca bit her lip.

There was a pause, and then he added — a little too casually — “I’d love to see you in my colour. And my number.”

Her heart nearly stopped. “I—uh…”

He winced. “Too much?”

She made a small, panicked sound. “Um.”

Henry meowed, stretching across her lap like a fuzzy lifeline.

Oscar grinned, clearly relieved at the distraction. “Is that Henry?”

She turned the camera slightly. Henry blinked at the screen, unimpressed. Oscar cooed anyway.

“Where are you going?” she asked, trying to fill the silence.

He flipped the camera around, giving her a view of the pit lane. Her eyes widened.

“Just stretching my legs before third practice.”

“And you’re in… Belgium?”

“Yeah. Spa.”

He turned the camera back on himself. “Have you, ah, got any plans today?”

She glanced at where her laptop was sat on the coffee table. “Work. Just- editing, I guess. I need to trim Henry’s nails. I might bake.”

God, why was she so bad at this?

He smiled, soft and a little curious. “You can bake?”

She nodded, suddenly wishing her life sounded more exciting.

Oscar opened his mouth to say something else, but a voice called out in the background — Lando. Oscar sighed, looking genuinely reluctant to end the call.

“I gotta go. Sorry this was so short. But—thanks. For answering. I don’t think you realise how much I like talking to you.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Francesca stayed still, phone pressed to her chest, her heart doing somersaults.

She didn’t even try to catch her breath.

—

Francesca balanced her phone against the sugar canister and wiped her flour-dusted hands on a tea towel. “Can you see even me?”

Katie’s face appeared on-screen, squinting. “You’re slightly tilted and there’s a bit of grease on the camera, but sure. Are you… baking?”

Francesca shrugged, going for nonchalance as she went about cracking an egg into the mixing bowl. “Needed a distraction.”

“Distraction from what, I wonder?” Katie sang, all mock innocence.

Francesca shot her a look. “Don’t. Please just… not now.”

Katie leaned in closer to the camera. “What happened? Because I’m just saying. You’re beating that egg like your life depends on it, and you’ve been ignoring my texts all day. So.”

Francesca sighed, easing up on the poor egg. “He video called me earlier.” She mumbled. 

Katie’s brows shot up. “I’m sorry. Can you say that again? He what?”

“Video call. Out of the blue. Said he liked my stupid Instagram story I made about his team and—” She cut herself off with a groan, shoving the bowl away and burying her face in her hands. “Katie. I think I’m in trouble.”

Katie blinked. “As in… emotional trouble?”

Francesca nodded slowly.

Katie tilted her head. “That’s my favourite kind.”

“I’m serious,” Francesca said, pulling her hair into a loose bun. “He’s so… nice. And he says things that make me feel like he means them. Like… really means them.”

Katie’s expression softened. “Francesca.”

Francesca sniffled a little, feeling ridiculous for getting emotional over this. “It’s just… What does he want? Like—what is he doing? He’s him. And I’m just… this. Always just this.”

“Firstly,” Katie said, holding up a finger, “Stop trying not to cry. You’re allowed to cry. Secondly, maybe what he wants is you. Pyjamas, cat, homebody and all.”

Francesca gave a tiny smile, even if it felt ridiculous to even consider that being a possibility. “He said he liked talking to me. And he wants to see me wearing his colour. And his number.”

She’d looked it up after ending their call. OP81. His number was eighty-one. 

Maybe it was just a coincidence that her flat, her safe haven, was number 81 too. 

Katie didn’t speak for a second. Then, gently, “Babe. That doesn’t sound like someone who’s messing around. I looked him up, did some research. His teammate is undoubtedly a playboy, but Oscar seems different.”

“I know,” Francesca whispered. “But it doesn’t feel real.”

Katie leaned back on her sofa, phone wobbling in her hands. “You’re just used to bracing for the worst.”

Francesca looked down at her mixing bowl, voice quiet. “What if I let myself fall a little bit too deep, and it all disappears?”

Katie shrugged. “Then I’ll come over and help you pick up the pieces. I have a question now. What if it ends up being the best thing you’ve ever done, hm? Letting yourself fall?” 

Francesca didn’t answer right away. Instead, she turned the oven on, carefully spooning batter into the muffin tin.

After a long pause, she said, “Then maybe I’ll make him banana muffins one day.”

Katie snorted. “God, you’re smitten.”

“Yeah.” Francesca stared at the circled of batter before sliding the tray into the oven. “Maybe.” 

— 

Instagram DM’s — Oscar Piastri > Francesca Gold 

Oscar Piastri

Can I have your number? You can say no. 

Francesca Gold 

Uh. Yes. Sure. Okay. 

Oscar Piastri

Are you sure? I don't mind DM'ing you forever if thats what you want.

Francesca Gold 

*phone number* 

— 

He sat on the little couch in his driver’s room, legs stretched out, race suit unzipped to the waist. His head rested against the wall, phone pressed to his ear, helmet sitting on the table beside him.

“Hi, Mum.” He said, when the dial tone stopped. 

“Well, hello stranger,” she said warmly. “How are you feeling?”

“Bit nervous,” he admitted. “Spa’s always a bit of a beast.”

“You’ll be fine. Car looks good this weekend.” She said. There was a beat of comfortable silence. Then she asked, gently, “And how’s the girl?”

Oscar smiled before he could stop himself. He’d mentioned Francesca once, a week ago, when he’d last spoken to her. “She’s fine.”

“You’ve still been talking then?” She asked. 

“Yeah,” he said, rubbing his thumb along the seam of his race suit. “More than I expected, honestly.”

His mum hummed. “You like her.”

He didn’t deny it. “Yeah.”

There was a soft chuckle. “And does she know that?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured. “Maybe. I think I might be… too much.” He glanced at his helmet, the noise of the paddock just beyond the walls “The opposite of what she needs, probably.”

“She sounds special, Oscar.” His mum said, and he’d never heard her say his name like that before. Something between fondness and excitement. 

“I don’t know how to make this work for her,” he said, voice low. “She doesn’t— do you know what agoraphobia is?” He asked. 

She was silent for a beat. “Oh, dear.” She said, quietly. “Yes, I do. Poor girl.”

“Yeah.” He said, shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t want to overwhelm her.”

“So don’t. You don’t have to rush it. You’ve never been flashy anyway.” His mum said. “I mean, you disappear during off-season, you hardly have a social media presence, and you stay under-the-radar a lot more than your friends do.” She said. “I’m not saying it’s the same thing, but…” She trailed off. 

Oscar let out a quiet breath. “Okay. So how do I ask her out without… scaring her off?”

His mum’s voice was kind, but certain. “You ask her like you mean it. You give her a way to say no, and you let her know it wouldn’t change how much you like talking to her. And if she says yes, you make sure that she’d going to be able to feel safe the entire time.”

Oscar closed his eyes. He liked that picture. Him and Francesca, together, close enough for him to reach out and touch. “Yeah.” He breathed out. 

“You’ll be alright, love.” She said. 

“Thanks, Mum.”

He started to push himself up. He was running out of time before he’d be called to start checking the telemetry. 

“And Oscar?” She called out before he could end the call. 

“Yeah?” He asked, shrugging his race suit onto his shoulders.

“Maybe don’t lead with ‘do you want to come to a grand prix’.”

He laughed quietly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Noted.” He said, sarcastically. 

There was a knock on the door — his engineer, probably — signalling that his quiet time was up. “Gotta go. I’ll call you after. Love you.”

“I’ll be watching. Love you too.”

He ended the call and looked at his phone screen for a long moment, thumb hovering. Then, impulsively, he opened the new contact he’d added to his phone. Francesca. 

iMessage — Oscar > Francesca 

Oscar: I want to meet you. Somewhere quiet, just us. I’ll come to you — whatever makes you feel safest. Just… think about it, yeah?

— 

Francesca stared at her phone, rereading the message like it might suddenly rearrange itself into something less terrifying.

She could feel her heart pounding in her throat. Henry, ever attuned to her moods, jumped onto the bed and settled beside her, purring like an engine. Ironic. 

Her thumbs hovered over the keyboard. She typed out “Okay”, then deleted it. Typed “That’s not a good idea”, deleted that too.

She curled onto her side and let the phone fall against the duvet.

Quiet. Just us.

No pressure.

She stared down at her hands.

The skin around her nails was raw — red and sore in places where she’d picked too much, too hard. A relapse, if she was honest with herself. The kind that crept in quiet, all sharp edges and shame. Her thighs didn’t look much better, marked with pinches and scratches and soft bruises that bloomed like confessions.

If this thing with Oscar ever went anywhere — if they ever saw each other in person, really saw each other — he would know. He’d see all of it. The messy parts. The anxious rituals. The bad days she couldn’t hide behind a screen.

That was the cost of being known.

She didn’t know if she was brave enough.

She glanced at the time.

Twenty minutes. That’s how long she’d left the message sitting there, unanswered. Her phone rested on the arm of the sofa, screen dark, like it was holding its breath for her.

By now, he’d be in his car. Strapped in, suited up. Probably lined up on the grid already, surrounded by chaos and noise and expectation.

She could turn on the TV. She could watch him — this man who’d somehow become a soft ache in her chest. Watch him blur past in papaya-orange and pretend that the message waiting for her answer didn’t matter so much.

But it did. God, it did.

She picked up the remote with trembling fingers and turned on the TV.

The pre-race coverage was in full swing — sweeping camera shots of the grid, engineers moving like clockwork, the roar of the crowd humming beneath the commentators' chatter. Her eyes scanned the screen, searching.

And then — there he was.

Oscar. Stood a few meters from his car, helmet still off but balaclava on, focused but calm. The camera panned over him briefly, catching the sharp line of his jaw, the way his fingers tapped rhythmically on the phone in his hand.

Her heart squeezed.

He had no idea if she was watching. No guarantee she'd seen the message at all. But he’d sent it anyway.

She picked up her phone. 

Francesca: okay. yes. i’d really like that. but you have to pretend not to notice if i get really awkward and say something dumb.

She didn’t expect to catch it.

Just a second, maybe less — the camera drifted back to him on the grid. He had his head bent, the phone still in his hand. The, he paused and moved it closer to his face.

He was reading her message.

Francesca watched, frozen on her sofa, breath caught in her throat.

Oscar’s mouth curved. Just a little. Just enough.

The smile wasn’t for the cameras. It wasn’t the grin he gave reporters or fans. It was soft. Barely there. But she saw it — and somehow, it made her feel like her ribs were too small for her chest.

He handed his phone to one of his engineers. Straightened his shoulders. Slipped on his helmet.

And then he was gone. The drivers were all in their cars. The formation lap started. 

And she sat in her quiet living room, a fat, ginger cat curled up in her lap, feeling like her whole world had tilted just a little.

—

The race began with a roar.

Francesca stayed curled on the sofa, hands wrapped around a mug that had long gone cold. 

She wasn’t really sure when it happened — when the noise and the chaos and the flashing graphics on-screen faded into the background and she started watching only him.

Oscar. Calm and sharp and focused, even when the car danced on the edge of control. Even when the commentators gasped. Even when the margins were paper-thin.

She watched the way he drove. The way he navigated past the other like it was second nature.

And then, somewhere between lap twenty and thirty, it hit her.

Not all at once, but slowly — like light creeping under a door.

She wanted to be there.

Not in the stands, pressed shoulder to shoulder with strangers. Not surrounded by cameras. But somewhere quiet. Somewhere just far enough out of sight. In the shadows. Hidden, maybe, but still there.

To see his face when he stepped out of the car. To hug him, if he wanted that. To say well done, Osc into his shoulder while everyone else was still trying to get his attention. To be close enough to experience the tiny motions that no one else saw — the ones he didn’t perform for the cameras.

To be the first face he found if something went wrong. If he crashed. If he was hurt.

The thought made her stomach twist and her hands shake, but she didn’t look away.

She sat through every lap. Every pit stop. Every replay. And when he crossed the line, she found herself whispering a breathless, “Well done,” to no one at all.

She rubbed the back of her hand beneath her eye.

Fuck.  

— 

Katie burst through the front door without knocking, a bundle of coat, scarf, and wild energy. "Okay, okay, sit down, sit down—wait, you're already sitting, perfect."

Francesca blinked at her from the sofa, a spoon halfway to her mouth. It was incredibly rare that Katie ever showed up without warning, but today was a good day, so it didn’t matter. “Hi?” She greeted, confusion lacing her tone. 

Katie didn’t bother with pleasantries. She tossed her capaciously filled bag onto the armchair and pointed dramatically. “You’re about to owe me your firstborn.”

Francesca raised an eyebrow. “You’re not having Henry.”

Katie waved her off. “Shut up. This is huge, Fran. Harper Collins reached out to us. They want it. A novel. Written by you.” 

Francesca froze.

This had to be some kind of joke.

Was it April? 

She shook her head in denial. “No way. You’re lying. I— Wait—what?” 

“I’m not lying,” Katie said, pulling out her phone, scrolling furiously. “They’ve seen the shorts you post. They know about your following. They think you have the voice and the audience. And they’re offering a good number, Fran. Like… actual money. Actual advance. No nonsense.”

Francesca’s mouth had gone dry. “I don’t— I mean, I’ve not written a full book before.”

“They don’t care. They want you. Your tone, your voice, your take on love.” Katie’s face softened, seeing the look on hers. “Francesca. My god. This is insane."

Francesca stared down at her lap. Her heart was thumping in her chest. “Oh my god. And I already said yes to something else today.” She laughed, slightly hysterically.

Katie frowned. “What do you mean?”

She took a breath. “Oscar. He asked to meet. In person. I said yes.”

Katie didn’t respond immediately. She blinked once. Then slowly lowered herself into the armchair like she was afraid sudden movement would spook her.

“You said yes?” she asked, carefully.

Francesca nodded.

Katie broke into a grin. “Okay. Wow. Wow. Big day for Francesca Gold.”

“I might throw up,” Francesca muttered, pressing her hands to her cheeks.

She was so overwhelmed. 

“That’s fair. But also—this is huge. The universe is literally clapping for you right now.”

Francesca huffed a laugh, still half-stunned. “I feel like I’m living in a fever dream right now.”

“Francesca?” Katie leaned forward, her eyes a little wet. “I’m… really proud of you. For the book deal, obviously, but also… Oscar would be stupid not to fall in love with you.”

Francesca sniffled. 

“And,” Katie added, with a sly smile that was only softened by the fact that her eyes were still damp, “this romance novel is going to hit different if you’re literally falling in love with somebody whilst you write it. Oh my god! Make it motorsport themed. You have to.”

Francesca groaned, pulling a pillow over her face. 

CHAPTER FOUR

[housemdork]

house md rewatch: 1x06, "the socratic method"

can someone help me figure out why this episode includes house's birthday?

re: my question above, i'm struggling a little with pinpointing the goal of this episode. they don't have to be tied up neatly every time, but the message seems both disparate and weak. here's what i'm working with:

motherhood via the patient, named lucy, and her son (with retrospective knowledge that chase is so affected by lucy because of his own mother).

the filial experience via house's birthday and chase and house's especially strong interests in the case.

introducing psychosomatic pain (loosely) through house relating to lucy.

each of these themes evolves into larger conflicts/plot points in the future, so i guess we could treat this episode as a stepping-stone. it makes sense that after 5 definitive episodes, we need a transition moment or 2. it makes me very excited to hear more from chase about his childhood, more than anything.

two conversations bear highlighting, i think: between house and lucy about no one believing her, and between house and cameron about his birthday. first up! ->

everyone pokes fun at house for being so taken by lucy, insisting that he only cares because she has been diagnosed (wrongly!) with schizophrenia. even though his attention is overbearing and rude at times, house gives lucy a lot more care than the rest of the team, and in their first conversation (above), there's a softness in his eyes that we haven't seen much of before. when she says "no one believes me" in a moment of clarity, he's quick to reply with "i do."

while chase brushes off house's obsession with lucy as him liking "crazy people" because "they're not boring" (thanks, 2000s tv), house is actually relating to lucy. she's trying to explain that her diagnosis is wrong, that the medication her son is (innocently) giving her are not working, and that she feels trapped. as a stepping-stone episode, this sets up the idea of house's "real"* vs. psychosomatic pain very well. in the future, cuddy and wilson are especially insistent that house's leg pain is mostly emotionally-driven, therefore making it less legitimate. in lucy's case, her doctors insist her illness is in her head, locked away and untouchable. solving this puzzle is extra vindicating for house because he sees his own strife in it.

*i don't mean to say that any chronic pain is real or not real based on its cause/source, just using house md lingo.

moving on - like i said, the house birthday thing is bugging me, but that cameron is the one to introduce it to the episode gives strong insights into where her character is going.

(she's so pretty, i can't handle it)

if nothing else, cameron being so insistent on house's birthday, and that it's "an excuse to be happy." having been one to already worry about house's misery (from last episode), it looks like cameron has embarked on her quest to Fix House. yet the audience, just like cameron, has no clue how deep house's potential misery goes at this point, but since he has at least 2 people who care enough to tell him happy birthday (or nearly do; cuddy throwing out his birthday card after he was such a jerk made me sad), and turns them both away, this social debacle also shows us that house is maladjusted of his own accord. truly, he didn't need to be such a grinch.

despite my english degrees, i don't have much to say about the yeats poem that lucy's son, luke, reads to her. if anyone has any thoughts and insights on that detail, please share!

and my last remarks are about wilson, who doesn't do much of anything this episode apart from look pretty and actually practice oncology! on screen! while also committing medical malpractice by injecting lucy with ethanol to shrink her tumor just because house asked him to :') i also found the visual black/white synergy between house and wilson to be extra prominent this episode, but i can't think of a certain reason why it was more pronounced in 1x06.

if anyone really likes this episode, i would love to have my horizons broadened about it lol. i thought the patient story was very touching, and luke's performance (actor's name is aaron himelstein) was amazing. i just think it was missing some of the substance that carried its predecessors.

[e-dubbc11]

Such a Flirt

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Hunter Reader; supporting character Sam Winchester

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ please or I’m telling on you) fingering, oral, p in v protected sex (be safe out there everyone), couple of swear words, love confessions

Word Count: 3.3K-ish

Summary: Dean and Sam ask for your help getting information from a bartender at a local bar. You’re a smooth talker and can get info from anyone but Dean hates having to watch you flirt with handsome men.

A/N: Fair warning, there’s only a little plot with this one. I really just wanted to get to the smexy time. I had the strongest urge to write some smut for this smexy son of a bitch, I don’t know why but I’m just very much in love with all things Jensen Ackles right now(I’ve watched Tracker, My Bloody Valentine, and started watching season 3 of the Boys again plus random episodes of Supernatural) I can’t wait to meet him in October! I hope you like this one!

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

“Dude, why are you grinding your teeth like that?” Asked Sam.

Dean’s eyes were fixated on you as you flirted with the bartender. You were trying to see if he knew anything about a man who was in the bar a couple of days ago.

Later, the man couldn’t explain why he had beaten his girlfriend to death after being seen in the bar with a beautiful woman who was definitely NOT his girlfriend.

“Does she have to flirt so hard with that guy?!” Growled Dean. “He’s not even that good looking!”

Dean angrily took a sip of his beer and continued to watch you like a hawk.

Sam rolled his eyes, pressed his lips together in a straight line and tried to continue talking about the case with Dean but he was more interested in what you were saying to the bartender.

“She’s trying to get information for us, Dean. Relax.” Said Sam.

The boys didn’t always need a third “FBI agent.” Sometimes they just needed help getting information from the opposite sex. Men were a lot freer with their words with you rather than the “feds.”

You mostly hunted on your own but they would call you from time to time when they needed your…”wits,” so to speak. Plus, you liked to watch Dean struggle with his feelings for you and you very much liked him back but it was fun to make him jealous.

**********

Before leaving the bunker, you had asked, “What kinda bar is it?”

“What do you mean what kind? It’s a bar, y/n.” Answered Dean.

“Ok, I realize that, Dean but is it a biker bar, a country western bar, one that doesn’t have a theme? I need to know what kinda clothes to bring. I threw a whole bunch in my car, I’ll bring the one outfit I need, and pick up the rest back here before I head home.” You replied.

Sam was already on his laptop doing research so he did a quick search and found the bar’s website online.

“Looks like it’s quite the nice place, y/n. Reviews say it’s an after work hot spot for bankers, real estate brokers, professionals, etc.” Said Sam.

You replied, “Soooooo a little swanky, but don’t dress like a high end call girl, got it. You guys will fit in perfectly wearing your FED suits.”

You decided to go for the “classy attorney” look but without a blazer. A Kelly green fitted silk blouse, black wide-leg pants that had black studs on the seam, and black ankle boots. Your perfectly chosen outfit, paired with a black structured tote bag seemed like impeccable choices.

Eat your heart out, Dean Winchester.

While they were out eating lunch, you did your hair and makeup. You didn’t do this super girly stuff very often but you liked…feeling pretty. The times that the boys needed you to turn on the charm and bat your long lashes to get information, were really fun for you.

Drawing on your black winged eyeliner after having a little too much coffee proved to be difficult sometimes but you were a professional and could probably do it with your eyes closed if you needed to.

A medium tone matte eyeshadow and a bold lip completed the look while a strobe light like highlighter emphasized the high points of your face.

Satisfied with your look, you watched a little tv before changing clothes. They would be back soon to pick you up for drinks after they talked to the local cops.

While in the bathroom, you heard the door open and Dean called out to you.

“Y/n?! You better be ready; we gotta go!” Said Dean.

You emerged from the bathroom fully dressed with the exception of your shoes.

“Ok, ok keep your shirt on, Winchester. I just need my boots.” You replied.

After slipping into your boots, you picked up your bag and finally had a chance to look up. For once, Dean’s brow wasn’t furrowed and you could see his hypnotizing green eyes much better which caught you off guard.

“What is it? Do I have something on my pants?” You said, gazing down at your pants then turning in a circle with your head over your shoulder, trying to look at your own ass.

Dean was speechless and couldn’t get any words out so Sam answered as he tossed a burger at you, “Nope, all good. Let’s go. You can eat in the car.”

They walked up ahead as you locked the door behind you.

“Dude, what is wrong with you? You were staring at her.” Said Sam.

Dean replied, “She looks too good, Sam.”

“Can you wrestle with your feelings for her another time? She’s supposed to look nice.” Sam said.

Nervously, Dean whispered, “Well she’s distracting! And I don’t have THOSE kinds of feelings for her.”

“Whatever you say, dude.” Replied Sam with raised eyebrows.

You covered your mouth so they wouldn’t see you crack a smile.

While riding in the car, you leaned forward so the boys could hear you better. Making sure he could feel your breath on his ear, you said, “You two can go in first, have a seat, and I’ll make my way in after a few minutes. You can keep an eye on me as I walk up to the bar.”

A sly smirk stretched across your lips as you slinked back into your seat and looked at Dean in the rearview mirror, trying his hardest NOT to appear flustered but failing miserably.

You could have made it easy and told Dean how you felt about him but he deserved to be on the receiving end of the teasing. Women made it easy for him, just falling at his feet which meant he had his pick and he hated every time you teased him.

And now, drinking at the corner of the bar, you could feel him burning a hole in your head with his angry stare. It appeared that Dean couldn’t take just sitting there anymore. Sam tried to grab hold of his jacket but he missed and Dean started to walk over to the bar when the bartender walked away to wait on someone else.

“I’m getting some good stuff, Dean. Get outta here!” You whisper yelled at him without looking and without drawing attention to yourself.

He nonchalantly whisper yelled back at you, “You’re being a little TOO friendly with him, don’t ya think?”

“I’m perfectly capable of weaseling information out of a dumb bartender. Now get outta here before I kick your ass all over this bar!” You growled.

“Need something, friend?” The bartender asked Dean.

A tad flustered, Dean replied with a narrowed expression, “Two more beers, buddy. Thanks.”

You got what you needed from the bartender and after another hour or so, you paid for your drinks and left. Dean and Sam followed you out a handful of minutes later.

“Can we get pizza?” You asked.

Dean was always in a better mood if he was fed properly so as a peace offering, you bought pizza on the way back to the motel. And of course, Dean picked up more beer.

Settling in with your dinner, you told them everything Jeremy, the bartender, told you about what he witnessed.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, I didn’t know the two of you were on a first name basis.” Said Dean.

You rolled your eyes.

“Will you let me finish, please!?” You asked.

“Dean…let her finish. Come on.” Said Sam.

Dean continued to pace back and forth while you talked.

“…So the woman that he left with, Jeremy had never seen before. And this guy hung on her every word, gazed at her like she hung the moon, she said all the right things. Almost like he was legit under a spell or something.” You finished.

Sam had his laptop open. His fingers swiftly typed words into the search engine and he then flipped the screen around to show you and Dean what he found.

“I think we might be dealing with another siren.” Said Sam, confidently. “Two other women were murdered by husbands or boyfriends after encounters with beautiful women at that bar. Sirens need love and they compel people to kill to show devotion to them.” He turned to Dean. “Remember that one we dealt with before? The time where we were trying to kill each other?”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, I remember. I try not to though.”

Preoccupied with Dean’s eyes, they had darkened a little to match better with the green shirt you had on, you covered your infatuation by pushing the chair across from you out from under the table.

“Take a load off, tiger. You’re makin’ me nervous with all this pacin’ around you’re doin’.” You said in between bites of pizza.

The Winchester brothers were your second family and you knew them well, especially Dean so you knew when something was really bothering him. And right now, something was definitely bothering him.

Sam’s face was buried in his laptop, it was quiet in the room except for the sounds of fingers moving across a keyboard, and the tension in the room was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. Something about you being there was keeping Dean on edge so you finally decided to break the silence.

“Dean? Come on. What is it? You’re being extra grouchy right now, so grouchy that pizza couldn’t fix it. Ever since I walked outta the bathroom earlier, you’ve been short with me.” You said, calmly.

He pressed the palm of his hand to his forehead and traced the outside of his lips with his thumb and forefinger before narrowing his eyes at you.

You knew that look. The look of an extremely handsome literal green-eyed monster glaring at you from across the table. Dean was close to blowing a gasket.

He pointed at you and in his low gravelly voice said, “I don’t like it when you flirt with other men. There! I said it, ok!? You happy!?”

In one fluid motion, Sam closed his laptop, grabbed the keys to the car and said, “I’m gonna go talk to the cops again. Lemme know when you two work THIS out.”

You started to say, “O-ok, well just be—“

“Yep, I’ll be careful. I know what to look for. I’ll see ya guys later.” Said Sam.

The door closed behind him, the Impala roared to life, and Sam drove off, leaving you and Dean alone in the motel room.

“Well that was weird. Anyway…Dean, I’m just doing what you guys asked me to do! You needed me to get information, so I turned on my charm and I got what we needed just like any other time you’ve needed me for something like this!” You said with a raised voice.

Dean stood up from the table and loosened his tie a little. Unbuttoning the top button on his dress shirt, he didn’t take his gaze away from you.

“You don’t have to be THAT good, ya know! They eat it up every single time! Lemme ask you this…did that Jeremy guy ask for your number?��

Seeing Dean this upset made you think that he didn’t just have a little crush on you.

Feeling a little warm, you unbuttoned a couple of buttons on your blouse and stood up also. You were reluctant to answer him but finally said softly, “Yes, he did.”

“HA! I fuckin’ knew it! They always do and did you give it to him?” Asked Dean.

You started to answer before he interrupted you, “Dean…”

“Did you!?” He asked again.

Not wanting to confess your feelings first, you tried to stall.

“No, I didn’t!” You shouted.

The table was in between the two of you. Both of you were breathing heavily, your jawlines tight with anger and frustration, and the sound of your heart beating inside your chest was deafening.

“Oh yeah?! And why should I believe you, y/n?!” Dean growled.

“I’ve never given any of them my number, Dean! Not a single one!” You bellowed.

His expression softened as he asked, “Well…why not?”

After a long day, you couldn’t help but collapse onto the bed. You allowed your legs to give out and sat down on the edge of the mattress before answering him.

“Why do you think, ya big dumb animal?! Because the only guy's number I want in my phone is yours, Dean! And Sam’s but for different reasons. You know what I’m trying to say, stop looking at me like that.” You said, nervously.

He walked around the table, gazed down at you with his beautiful green eyes, they were the color of fresh blades of grass, and leaned over to inch his face closer to yours. The sprinkling of freckles across his nose was so youthful and adorable. You swallowed hard as you felt his breath against your eyelashes.

“And why do you think I get the way that I do when I see you flirt with other guys? You know why, don’t you sweetheart.” He said, melodiously.

Dean’s lips were ghosting over yours. You were silently begging him to just kiss you and kiss you hard. All the tension that had been building over the years was coming to a head right now. His tie dangled down from around his neck, you were dying to just pull him on top of you and find out what he tastes like…all of him.

“Because you want me as much as I want you?” You replied, gently touching his tie.

Still holding his tie, you inched yourself up toward the headboard. Dean followed your lead as you removed his tie and began to unbutton his dress shirt.

“I want you more.” He purred into your ear before his perfect lips crashed onto yours.

Dean covered your mouth with his own, devouring you with every kiss he placed on your lips, neck and jaw. You won the fight to be on top, although you were sure he let you win, and you continued to unbutton his shirt while he grasped clumsily at the buttons on yours.

They were small so he was having a hard time with them until you stepped in.

“I’ll do them, baby.” You whispered as he haphazardly tossed his clothes to the side.

You stood up and let your pants fall to your ankles while you finished unbuttoning your silk shirt. His desire for you was very apparent by the large tent in his boxers that you felt against your core as soon as you straddled him. The bottom of the shirt brushed against his thighs and goosebumps peppered across his skin.

You decided to let him finish undressing you.

Dean’s hands gently pushed your shirt off of your shoulders and all that was left was the black lace bra that was barely containing your breasts that he could not wait to get you out of. The man was a pro at unhooking your bra with one hand. If you didn’t want him so badly, you would have stopped to give him shit for it.

He lightly nipped the skin down the side of your neck, making you gasp when he got to the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. You felt like you could have come just by him biting down on that sweet spot. The growing ache between your thighs was torture and you desperately wanted him to touch you.

Like he read your mind, his strong hands migrated from your breasts down to your waist. Reaching in between your thighs, Dean teased your entrance with one finger, then slid another inside with ease.

“You’re soaked, sweetheart.” He whispered as a strangled moan escaped your lips.

To suffocate your screams, you bit down on your lower lip as he continued to move his talented fingers, hooking them in just the right spot to make you see stars, and drew circles on your clit to really tease you.

“Dean!” You pleaded, just before you hit your peak and tightly clenched around his fingers.

“You can be loud, baby. These kinds of places are used to noises like that, if ya know what I mean.” He said with a wink and a smirk.

You smiled back, pressed your lips to his, and lightly bit down on his bottom lip before starting to pepper kisses down his chest.

After pulling down his boxers, you took him into your mouth. A deep guttural moan and words of praise fled from Dean’s lips when your tongue circled the underside. That made him draw in a sharp breath as his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Fuck, that feels good, sweetheart.” He hissed and mumbled something else incoherently.

Crawling up his body, he slipped on a condom and then as you straddled him, you replied, “My mouth isn’t just for flirting, Dean.”

He slid into you with ease, burying himself to the hilt, causing you both to gasp before he cut your moan short with a hard kiss. You circled your hips slowly, allowing him to go deeper inside you, and it sent sharp tingles down your spine.

You pulled him in close as your walls began to tighten around him, clinging to him like your life depended on it with your climax starting to build.

Dean’s body was a warm cradle for yours as his fast abrupt strokes were about to send you over the edge and fast. But he loved to look at you so he pulled away slightly and watched your pleasure surge through you.

As you were riding out one orgasm, Dean managed to pull another one from you as you loudly called out his name like no one else was around which made him feral.

His movements became faster, more brutal, pulling out of you just so he could slam into you again and again as his body went rigid underneath you. Crushing your waist, his arms were wrapped around you so tightly that all of the air escaped your lungs.

His release came hard and fast, followed by a strangled moan while your bodies trembled from overstimulation. Dean’s eyes were wide and unfocused as he tried to catch his breath while you leaned in for a gentle kiss and let your fingers glide through his soft brown hair.

Collapsing on top of him, you smiled against his chest as his fingers tickled the outside of your arm and the only thing you could hear was Dean’s heart beating rapidly against your ear.

Trying to get your breathing under control, you covered yourself with the sheet and finally managed to ask, “So…does this mean you don’t want me to flirt for information anymore?”

Dean kissed the top of your head and replied, “As long as you come home with me, I’ll allow it.”

“ALLOW IT?! You’re not the boss of me, Winchester.” You said, sarcastically.

He licked his lips as you looked up at him through your long dark lashes.

In barely more than a whisper, he said, “Well what if I told you you’re really pretty and that I might be…in love with you?”

“Awww…you’re really pretty too!” You said, jokingly.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Alright, I’m tryin’ to—“

Wrapped up in the sheet, you sat upright, cupped his cheeks and pressed your lips to his, your tongue slipped into his mouth to tangle with his as a low growl escaped his lips.

“I might be in love with you too.” You whispered against his mouth.

Chasing each other’s smiles, he continued to kiss you until you heard a key in the door. Sam walked in, took one look at the two of you and without missing a beat said, “Oh good, you two worked it out. So I was thinking, I might know who—“

He stopped, looked at the two of you and shouted, “Guys…that’s MY bed!!”

You and Dean started to laugh.

Oops.

Tag List: @munsonownsmyass @gijos @stoneyggirl2 @vaguekayla

Others that might enjoy: @k-marzolf @jvanilly @fluffyprettykitty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @deans-spinster-witch @savorxe

If you would like to be added to(or removed from) my tag list(s) for this smexy Winchester, just let me know!

[musashi]

Hiiii, so this is a call for some help with a video I have in the works right now.

I am looking for a Latinx volunteer to... I guess sensitivity read and/or help me fine-tune a very specific part of a youtube video script. Preferably someone in the Ace Attorney fandom, but you do not need to be by any means--if there are any plot details you need me to explain to you to make my points clearer, my autistic ass will jump at the opportunity.

It's a misconception debunking video with a little 'character assassination' bit at the end where I plan on talking about unfortunate boxes, flanderizations, and stereotypes that some of the characters in my favourite visual novel often get lumped into. One of these characters is Diego Armando, a Latino (dark skinned Japanese in the original) man who is constantly held to higher scrutiny by the fandom than his lightskinned peers. He is frequently demonized, painted as a misogynistic scumbag, held in much worse faith than other culprits for his very understandable and sympathetic wrongdoing, and overall just treated incredibly harsh for things that other comparable characters get away with on account of them 'looking' white and having more anglicized names.

Since I am white myself I do not plan on speaking excessively about the experience when it is not my own but I think it is a huge fucking disservice to not focus on the fact that this fandom treatment all just stems from racism. It's the one part of my video where I don't plan on even entertaining "the other side" or explaining where the misinterpretation "comes from" I want to just. Make the point. That it's racism, with no rhyme or reason.

But I obviously don't feel qualified to just do that on my own so this is just me putting out feelers to ask if anyone would like to read over this part of my script for me, offer concrit (scalding concrit if you must, please, I want it to be as tight as possible) and basically just make sure my own white privilege doesn't gloss over, misrepresent, or miss anything. Basically just asking for help not fucking it up.

Again you do not have to be into AA to help me with this, I can tell you all about the character and what he does and doesn't do, his place in the story, and the things I hear about him in fandom and how they don't hold up on other comparable characters. Just know I will have to spoil the whole final game for you if you ever plan on getting into it haha. And, once again, please only volunteer if you are Latinx yourself.

I will, of course, give you full credit and thanks in my video and in the description, and link my viewers to any and all platforms if you'd like. Since I make no money off youtube and am horrendously broke myself, if you have any donation links posted anywhere I will boost the hell out of those too. That's about all I can offer for compensation OTL

Please contact me via ask if this is something you're interested in. You can also reply on this post and I can open DMs for you or get in touch with you via email or discord. I really, really, really want to include this in the video but I want to do it right.

Even if you're not someone who qualifies, if you are an AA blog or have lots of AA blogs following you, I'd appreciate a reblog to boost this! Thank you :3

[sonoftydeusthemusical]

My friend has never heard of Diomedes before; how would you describe him? Like his motivations, his way of thinking, his strengths and weaknesses, his relationships, major plot points?

(I would explain him myself but I'm still not that far in the Iliad.)

Hello, thank you soooo much for this ask and sorry for the late reply!

First of I want to say that we’re by no means experts on Diomedes. We’re still in the process of learning more about him and discovering and exploring him through this musical, so people with a background in ancient studies might have a more detailed/accurate analysis of him than we can provide at the moment. But we still try to answer you to the best of our abilities!

(You’re welcome to correct us in the comments/reblogs ^^” )

In the words of @holy_mother_of_whumpers:

Diomedes kicks ass more than anyone in the Iliad, is scolded more than anyone. Odysseus best friend (according to historians). Shitty childhood (incest, prophesies and and a lot of dead relatives, which is almost as ancient Greek backstories go), shitty post Troy (banished from his city, cursed by Aphrodite). Actually happy ending (founder of cities, immortalized by Athena).

He’s like Odysseus, but with an unbelievably tragic childhood and less disaster energy. He gets stuff done and slays doing it

But here’s our answer…sorry if this is turns out too long!

Starting out with your question about his motivations

Oath bound, Diomedes avenged his fathers death at the age of 14, sacking the city of Thebes (the epic surrounding it is called “Epigoni” but unfortunately it’s a story lost to history, also he was 4 when he took the oath, should that count rly? shouldn't there be an age of consent for oaths? anyway)

The story surrounding his fathers death is tragic and a bit disgusting (he ate brain and Athena who wanted to gift him immortality was too disgusted to do so)

Diomedes doesn’t remember his father, and he still gets compared a lot to him (just see Agamemnon low-key trash-talking him by stating how much of a better fighter his father was to motivate him for battle) so that kind of plays into his motivations

Additionally like so many other heroes, glory and honor are definitely also motivations of his. Often it is Athena who pushes or motivates him to many of his greatest deeds and other feats (like wounding Ares, throwing the spear at Dolon, beating everyone in the funeral games,…..yeah Athena HATES loosing)

What’s interesting that despite the fact that he was raised on war, later on – after Troy (and admittedly, even more warfare) – he’s said to have wanted to settle down more, founded his cities in peace (or as peaceful as life for kings was back then haha)

In the Iliad Diomedes is always the first to volunteer, and despite often getting treated rather badly (Nestor kicked him awake, my boy was even sleeping in his armour, Agamemnon calls him a coward) he tends to keep a cool head and doesn’t retaliate (…except that one time….or two?) BUT he also definitely doesn’t take BS, he calls out Agamemnon for being a bad leader when he suggests to leave (Diomedes insists they stay and fight until they won)

For his way of thinking…he’s rather pragmatic, a good strategist (mentored by athena), first to jump into the fray, trusts his own strength, knows when to back down/when to talk back, can get caught up in the heat of the moment in battles, doesn’t shy away from violence, lies & trickery…. (correct me on this if I'm wrong or missed something)

Strengths & Weaknesses

One thing that makes him stand out among the other heroes is that arguably, he’s one of the few greek heroes whose lives don’t end in a complete tragedy because of his hubris against the gods (…….wellll………..his wife betraying him after he injured aphrodite and being exiled for arogs is an instant where he still pays for his acts against the goddess, but its tame compared to many other heroes fates, who committed lesser crimes) and in the end he even gets deitified (or at least in some versions, like athena wanted to do with his father, but his father messed upppppp so…..)

He’s more level headed than many other heroes (cough Odysseus “i am in the infamous odysseus” King of Ithaca)

He’s one of the best fighters - or THE best fighter of the greeks next to Achilles, the trojans were more scared of him than of Achilles (….since Achilles didn’t fight) without him the Achaeans….would’ve probably lost the war

As for his weaknesses….one thing is something that’s not even within his own control: his young age (compared to the other kings), almost nobody realllyyyy respects him despite his badass deeds on the battlefield and good battle advice, his many ships he brought and his battle experience even before the war and two) the kind of lingering shame of his fathers final moments (nom nom brain, and failing to take Thebes), but also his fathers supposed greatness that he keeps getting compared to and has to live up to

Now…..his relationships…oh boy theres so many, I’ll try to sum up the most important ones I know in once sentence for each

His family:

His father: he doesn’t remember him, but people keep bringing him up and comparing him to him

We dont know much about his relationship with his mother

most…of his other (male) relatives die in his early youth (which is how he ends up as King of Argos) like his grandfathers, and his uncles…

The achaean kings:

Agamemnon: the boss who’s a bully, but Diomedes talks back to him sometimes at least (…unless he’s insulting him, he just accept that)

Ajax: Diomedes almost kills him during the funeral games….the acheans have to break up the fight

Achilles: Diomedes doesn’t like him, Dio is the only one who wants him punished for killing Diomedes cousin that everyone else hated

Odysseus: LOTS of tea to be found here (he seems to see Ody as a mentor figure and keeps picking him as companion for missions, they both have Athena as their patron goddess but while Odysseus leans a little bit more on the wisdom part, Diomedes leans more into the pure strength of battle, they work well together and have a bunch of missions together)

Comrades

Most noteable are Sthenelus (known him since early childhood) and Euryalus, who are with him in Troy, they were part of the Epigoni (its rly a long story)

His wife: is his cousin, he marries her to strengthen his rulership, in the end, its said that she betrayed him with a new lover and exiled him from his own kingdom (another long story)

Glaucus: they met on the battlefield and realized their grandfathers were bro’s so they didnt fight each other, and instead exchanged armours (but Diomedes got the better, golden armour, while Glaucus got the bronze armour..)

There is sooooo much more to say about him, all the stories of the Iliad, the events before AND after it, his relationship with Athena, etc. I barely scratched the surface here so maybe we have to make a whole series of posts about this one day so we can get more into detail because its so much! (Let us know if we should???)

I hope this answered some of your questions, though! And again thank you so much for your interest and apologies for the late reply!

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

I read your post about not letting kudos and hits upset us. I try to think this way but I'm curious about something else. I've written many fanfics for my fandom and they're all "flop". I don't mind that honestly. But then some writers have written only one fic about the ship I do and and it gets hundreds of kudos. How do some writers achieve that when I'm doing the same and it doesn't get the same response. What else can I do?

I’m afraid I can’t give you a definite answer about what you should do or why this person’s work is more popular, but what I can give you are some advice and, from my experience, some reasons that might explain why other’s works receive more hits and kudos.

start with why other writers’ works are more popular when it’s the same characters, same ship, same fandom. there are various factors at play that might be it;

maybe the person already has large audience base prior to their posting about the fandom you’re in, I know a few authors who already have these sorts of loyal readers that would read any work the authors posted even if they (the readers) were not in that fandom.

maybe someone, anyone, decided share the link to this person’s work on Tumblr or Twitter (X) or any social media platform, and it kind of became viral, thus it drew in lots and lots of readers. it could take just one person, didn’t necessarily have to be the author themself, to share the link among the fandom as a recommendation, or maybe a screenshot of one sentence from the fic that they liked, what happened next is that the replies were filled with people asking for the link.

tags and summary are important factors when people are looking for a fic to read. so maybe this person’s work is tagged with the content people were looking for? maybe their summary grabbed people’s attention or curiosity?

these are just what I can think of over the top of my head.

as for what you can do to gain more readers, I’ve never seen your work so the advice I can give will be a general one; I believe the trick lies in summary, tags as well as the format of one’s work.

when it comes to AO3 (I assume it’s your platform?), tags and summary are the main things people use to determine whether or not they want to click on the fic.

tag your content properly, what characters or pairings it’s about, as well as what the readers will find upon reading your work (you don’t have to spoil it, only the general tags that will give your readers an idea of what they’re in for).

summaries are just as important. there are no “rules” obviously, and I’m not telling you or any writers what to do. though a little advice that I personally take is that you use this little summary section AO3 gives you to do anything to make sure it stands out and that people will see it and want to click on it. that means leave “author’s note” out of the summary section. folks, AO3 summary is the first glimpse into the fic itself that people will see prior to clicking on it, most of the time, people look at the summary to see the author’s writing style and if what’s written, plotwise, grabs their interest. personally, when I see an author use “summary” as a place to write “author’s note”, chances are, I will scroll past that fic as I am interested in what the fic is about, not what the author has to say about their opinion on said fic or their personal life or anything (there’s an author’s note section for that) and if I can’t get a glimpse of what the plot is about or what the author’s writing style is from the summary section, then I won’t click on it, and will look for other fic that can get me interested instead.

moving on to fic format, again, I am not telling anyone what to do here. this is only a suggestion, an advice I’ve learned and want to share: when you write your fic, make sure to use line and paragraph spacing. if your 10k word long fic is one long block of text with no paragraph break, chances are, people will back away from it entirely. also, if it’s two different characters talking with dialogues, don’t put all of their dialogues in one paragraph. for instance, a paragraph for character A’s dialogue, then another separate paragraph for character B’s dialogue and so on.

and I think that’s it for my advice? however, I’ll say this again that the secret to truly enjoying your role as a fanfic writer is that you only focus on yourself. write whatever you want for yourself. it doesn’t matter if this person’s work is more popular, because fanfics and fandoms aren’t a competition. you are your main audience. just have fun creating the stories you want to create for you.

[gongustheawsome01]

ok ok ok ummm youll probably talk about this in the thing youre writing obviously but i have been Dying to know how you think nina came into cortex's care in the first place .. and maybe his feelings on his family? i know he had that whole scrapped circus family background thing in one of the concepts for like. i know for sure in that cancelled game but idk if it was gonna be in anything else lol (<stupid)

FIRST OF ALL I’M SO SORRY FOR REPLYING TO THIS SUPER LATE-

SECOND I’m gonna be so for REAL with you chief the whole “how Cortex got Nina” thing is something that dumbfounds me EVERY time I try to make a plot that makes sense mainly because of things that clash with Cortex’s cannon history. ( The circus plot line IS canon by the way!!! I can’t remember if it was stated in a manual for a crash game or if it was in the Crash holy bible aka. The Crash Bandicoot Files. Unless they randomly changed his backstory and I was never aware of it REALLY hope they didn’t though because the circus plot line is way cooler. )  (( Some of that history below btw or at least the parts that seemed important ))

Now I do actually wanna talk about how he feels about his family for JUST a split second sense you seem more interested in how he found and got Nina. To simply say that he HATES them would be the UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE CENTURY. To him there is no word strong enough that he or anyone else can create to describe the VISCERAL reaction he has to his family and the way they treated him as a child. Either making him the butt of the joke on and off stage, or doing nothing about the abuse he suffered from the hands of the other clowns other than just watching and LAUGHING.

Laughter is all that surrounds him jokes, gags, and mockery. MOCKERY THAT’S IT THAT’S ALL IT EVER WAS TO HIM. A MOCK on his mind, on his ability to be better than all of them. That’s how he saw it, how he came to comprehend it, how he came to begin to HATE humanity as a whole and swear to rule over it one day. But he could not hate all of humanity equally because he could not share the utter WRATH he feels for his own blood. They caused this. It’s all THEIR fault. And he has to seek and destroy the wrong. BUT BACK TO ME BEING STUMPED ON IT. The whole reason that I can’t really ever wrap my head around on how exactly he got Nina is because of this OTHER lore placement that states his entire family besides him was wiped by a freak firework accident.

( little note I wanted to add just cause. No fireworks being present within the circus in my opinion DEFINITELY implies the death of his family was his doing! :D ) But this would mean how the HELL did Nina come to y’know be in this world if Cortex squad wiped his family??? There’s multiple theories on it like “Cortex’s sibling survived/ wasn’t present during the explosion! And went on to live a happy life until Cortex found them again and kidnapped Nina/just killed them and THEN took Nina!!!” Or. “Nina is Cortex’s secret love child he had with a mysterious mistress!!!” And probably some other theories that I’m forgetting.

For the sake of it though I’m just gonna go with the first one. It makes the most sense to me with the ideas for Cortex and Nina that I’ve been forming in my sick SICK mind. I would love to talk about the second theory though and the possibilities of that one day sense I think in its own way is also a REALLY, REALLY, REALLY COOL CONCEPT.

Anyhow I’m gonna try to explain this to the best of my ability but I guarantee you I am 100% speaking out of my behind here and going off of what little cannon I know about his family + some of the stuff I could pick up from that scrapped Crash game. I AM SO SORRY FOR THAT!!! 

So again going off of the first theory I can’t really picture HOW exactly he’d find out one of his family member’s survived that fateful day but I CAN picture HOW exactly he’d feel about it. SPITEFUL. He didn’t just sneak in fireworks to that hel-lspawn of a circus to take away the lives of those who practically took away his (metaphorically) just so one MEASLY little rat could escape and continue to live a life that they didn’t DESERVE. 

He’s had to plan, scheme, and be TORMENTED into this way of life he has now as a mad scientist he WORKED to be here and he’s still cooped up experimenting away to rule the world someday with his only childhood friend ( that he doesn’t even know is planning to BETRAY him behind his back. ) And all they’ve ever done is use him in their STUPID acts and yet they still got out? He sought to seek vengeance that day and by god the madman is gonna do it again. 

So basically we can assume what THAT leads to! Ray gun pointed, aimed, and fired! Boom baby done and done nothing else here except for that sweet TOTALLY NOT EMPTY sense of revenge that was 100% justified and- is that a baby. 

I think his first reaction to seeing her would be sort of solemn. Dude JUST killed her parents, she’s probably crying because of the loud noises, and he can’t just LEAVE her here. I think in a way a hidden part of his mind sees it as punishment but he doesn’t want to accept that maybe what he’s done was wrong and evil and that there’s ANY chance that he’s the bad guy in this situation! So it CAN’T be regret, it CAN'T be punishment. They had it coming! And now he has the responsibility of a little baby who he’s made all alone.

It isn’t until he actually thinks for a moment. This is the only person on earth ALIVE related to him by blood, who hasn't abused him, who is an INFANT, and who he can t̶r̶a̶i̶n̶ raise PROPERLY! To one day be his right hand man and once he’s passed… Rule the world THEMSELF!!! AS THE CYCLE CONTINUES!!! IT’S GENIUS UTTERLY GENIUS!!!

SHE WAS NO “BuRdEn” SHE WAS A BLESSING! Someone HE now has a chance to give the REAL childhood he never had! A genius of his making! She’s perfect! Why actually he’s the  good guy in this situation not only taking vengeance for himself but for this poor little girl who was probably going to have a HORRIBLE childhood that’s right! He’s helped both of them in this scenario. He's going to be a better parental figure than whatever dollar store crap she was going to get with THEIR parenting they were probably going to teach her about *gulp*… How to share…

This one is really short. I don't have much to say on how exactly he got her even if I think it’s REALLY friggin 'interesting guy, but there's barely any lore to go off of and you’ve just gotta assume or make up things like 99% of the time. 💔 I REALLY HOPE THIS WAS GOOD THOUGH AND THAT IT MADE SENSE AND WASN’T TOO RAMBLEY AND BAMBLEY!!! ♥️♥️♥️

[scapegoated-if]

Hi! I love the idea of a gender locked female PC in the 70’s as it will further reflect the misogynistic society and totally respect it being your choice and your IF. However I was a bit disappointed I couldn’t be anything other than a white woman as I usually like to self insert. I was just wondering the reasoning behind it as it might stop some people from being completely immersed (not in the story but the character, the stories great) Either way it’s your if and your choice, this is just a curious anon.

I don't want to be too specific plot-wise, but I will take you through a lot of what my coming up with Scapegoated looked like, because it does cover a lot of my thought process behind my reasoning.

This response is semi-long because I wanted to be as thorough as I can about this, so this is my slight warning in advance! If you hit me with a 'Congratulations or sorry that happened', I wouldn't blame you, friend.

As I state in my disclaimer, Scapegoated heavily explores discussions of race and gender politics throughout. It drives a heavy crux of the story. I didn't want to have a self-insert MC because I wanted to ensure that the conversations had revolving these social issues and the murders that unfold aren't danced around. Perspective is an extremely important factor in that, and I want to ensure that the MC is directly involved--rather than just there as things happen because it wouldn't be interactive.

Intersectionality is also an important topic in this IF (race and gender cannot be discussed without the discussion of intersectionality, but I digress). Initially when I planned this story, before it was titled and the only thing I knew was that I wanted to write an IF about the '70s music scene, it was neither gender or race locked because the only IFs I had read--because they were the only IFs I enjoyed reading--were neither gender or race locked too. But I did toy with my ideas by self-inserting (I'm a black woman) when I was attempting to figure out the logistics of gameplay. That's when I realised that due to the time period and all of the change that was happening at the time, social issues had to be discussed.

I added the aspect of Hollywood because it interests me, and murder I introduced because during the late '60s and the '70s, it was such a dangerous and frightening time--from the assassinations, the Manson Murders to the coining of "serial killers" around this time, too. After a while, I didn't want to do something strictly music-related because the biggest IF currently is music-related (I will profess my undying love for Infamous another time), and a lot of popular period-piece media set in the '70s is music-related in general: Almost Famous, a film; Daisy Jones and the Six, a miniseries and book; and I recently saw Stereophonics on Broadway this summer.

A lot of what Scapegoated is took shape very naturally. When I self-inserted as a black woman, I felt like the story I was telling was a repetition of what Hollywood already tends to do a lot: i.e. make media that explains racism to white people, which I have no interest in doing whatsoever. But the story I have settled on with Scapegoated feels like it just makes sense. It feels like a story with no ulterior motive other than exploring relationships between real people during a time of major social change. And I get to explore The Troubles and the IRA; the Anarchy movement; and touch upon May '68, so the Paris riots.

I genuinely didn't know that gender-locked and race-locked IFs were this uncommon. I said in a reply to another anon that because of the scope of video games and interactive gaming apps (i.e. Episode), I didn't think it would be off-putting to anyone. That being said I am extremely new to IFs. But I promise you it isn't a decision that I made without cause or plausible reason. I spent more time developing a concept of what this story is than I did planning Scapegoated and writing it.

Thank you for reading my IF anyhow, and this absolute yapathon, because I would have completely understood if you chose not to. Sending all my love and...

Stay groovy!🌼

[atopvisenyashill]

How would You sort the guilty of Elia's death from more to less guilty: Robert, Tywin, the Mountain, Jaime (he is just here because he thinks he is somehow guilty Even if he was just a baby), Rhaegar and Aurys II?

Tywin

Aerys

The Mountain

Rhaegar

Robert

Jaime

tywin is the one who gave the order, he deserves the lion’s share of the blame. he claims he didn’t know what sorts of monsters he had in gregor or amory but a) i think he’s lying, this is the man who drowned castamere, i think he said it that way bc he wants to ~teach tyrion a lesson about knowing what tools are in your box, plus imo he knows both his sons find the elia rape a bit beyond the pale, and b) he still gave the order to kill two kids like 😭

aerys is next not only bc he lets the lannister army in & pulls elia and the kids from dragonstone while sending his Own wife and kids there, but also because he clearly doesn’t really care if they live or die? if he did, he would have had guards on them the way he did on viserys. not for nothing but he does make a passing attempt to protect rhaella, because she and their children are his ~legacy as a man. unlike say, stannis, who isn’t pleased by the fact that shireen is his only heir yet is CAREFUL to keep her safe, i think aerys is playing fast & loose with elia specifically bc he does not want her kids to inherit - he wants viserys to!

the mountain is right in the middle. he is a tool and nothing more. if he didn’t say yes, someone else would have, but he DID say yes and he enjoyed causing elia & the babies pain. @transdimensional-void replied once a looooong time ago that gregor is interesting bc so much of the plot really hinges on his behavior and yet he’s a glorified mook in boss’ clothing ya know. and it’s bc he really is the sort of end point of this violence - driven to anger and madness because of his gigantism, and able to take that rage and make it everyone else’s problem.

probably controversial to put rhaegar above robert. but all robert does is condone the action. he’s not involved in planning it, he’s not involved in carrying it out, he just laughs afterwards. heinous, a symptom of the rotted system they are living in that tywin, gregor, and amory can get off consequence free. but he does nothing to actually cause it. contrast to rhaegar. he knows his father is unstable and is in the middle of trying to overthrow him during the harrenhal tourney, then decides to abandon elia on dragonstone for the tower & lyanna. he does not leave any sort of plan b behind to keep her safe from his father, like placing her in DORNE or even sending her to the free cities. he disappears for a YEAR which is what allows elia to be recalled from dragonstone - completely abandoning his responsibilities as a father to keep his heirs safe. and not only that, but he then comes out on the side of his father! he leads all those dornish forces to their death on the trident and he doesn’t explain his rationale to anyone but like 2 guys, who he has hiding out in dorne anyways. his thing with lyanna is directly responsible for sparking the chain of events that gets his family killed. to me this is like saying otto has no blame for the deaths of his family - he didn’t hold the blade but he put them in a situation that was completely untenable and dropped the ball when HE is the one with some of the most power in this situation. that’s actual blame, whereas robert’s blame is less about elia dying and more about how he handles it.

and last is jaime, who was a teenager in over his head given an impossible situation to navigate and no help or backup who tried his best, and believed in the gooodness of his father. i can’t really blame him for not worrying his father was going to kill elia & the babies - it wasn’t even a sure thing what side tywin was going to take bc he’d been fencesitting. i get why jaime blames himself for this bc im sure it FEELS like he did something wrong but there really wasn’t a good or easy choice to make here, he was always going to do something “wrong” and earn an undeserved reputation because of it.

[veneerslipstick]

⋆.ೃ࿔lights, camera...*:･

actor!veneer x GN!jealous!reader

• one shot

• fluff

at this point in yours and veneers relationship, you’ve been pretty used to his fame and how the life of dating a celebrity is a bit challenging than you imagined. until one day, veneer is casted on a new netflix movie airing worldwide ! but, of course, it had to be a romance.

you were super supportive ! showing up to rehearsals, meeting the cast members, helping him out with lines, you really enjoyed it. though, it being a romance plot, you had to witness every. kissing. scene, with his romantic interest, Arden. reminding yourself it was all just for a plot, you push past the fact of how much time they spend together and worrying if he was falling for them.

what will be your breaking point in order to prove he was unattainable?

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

“if you want to be as famous as me, you gotta work, gotta work, gotta -“

in the middle of washing your dishes, you picked up

your phone and held it against your shoulder when

you answered it.

“hello?” you forgot to look at who was calling, so you

stuck with the automatic basic greeting.

“Y/N! hi, hi, uhm so i’m on my way over, i still really

can’t believe that, yknow… you know !!” veneer

exclaimed, not having to second guess that it was

him from the way he squealed your name at the

beginning. smiling to yourself, you rinsed off your

hands and turned around from the sink to look out

the living room window.

“i can’t believe it either! and it was only yesterday !

im so happy for you. are we going out to celebrate ?”

there was a pause.

“mm, not exactly. we’re going out, but it’s kind of like

a get together with the cast members, so we can all

get to really know eachother.” veneer explained, and

you furrowed your eyebrows slightly.

“oh, but didn’t we already do that? i met everyone.”

you took the phone in your hand.

“well that was different , like , a basic meet and greet

slash first rehearsal. this is a little more like a loose ,

flowy, have-a-drink-make-someone-laugh type of

deal.” he seemed to have trouble with his

description, but you just laughed, leaning against

your island.

“i like how you describe things.” you blurted

randomly, and you felt him smile on the other end.

that was odd, but you just knew.

“i’ll be there in a minute, love you flower.” he

responded. blushing, you dropped your head.

“i love you too ven.”

hanging up, you went to your room to throw

something on half decent to wear. you weren’t

trying to impress anyone but your own boyfriend,

but you were trying to prove a point to veneers

romantic interest in the movie, Arden, is their name,

that their relationship was strictly for the screen and

nothing else. when you had first met them, they were

actually sweet and funny — but that’s what scared

you. there was nothing that you feared more than

you ending up being just a test subject for veneer , as

he was just famous and hungry, and being pushed to

the side as soon as he tracks down another

person significantly better than you.

pulling on a nice dress shirt, you looked at yourself

in your full body mirror. you knew most of that

definitely— probably, wasn’t true. but that sickening

feeling in your gut pulled your heart closer to your

stomachs depth. you shook it off, swallowing the

lump in your throat. then you heard a horn honk.

rushing out of your room, you opened the front door

to veneer in his car, one hand on the steering wheel

and the other around the head rest. he grinned at you

from afar and you rolled your eyes, scurrying over to

the passenger side and getting in.

���veneer, you’re gonna give me a stroke one day and

it’ll be all your fault.” you shot at him and he laughed.

“mhm, sure, aaaaaaand i’m slowly building up your

fight or flight reactions so one day you can whoop

major ass when you need it.” he replied as he put

the gear in drive and started his way up your

neighbourhood. you shook your head with a smile.

once you two arrived to the actual set of the movie,

which was just a mansion as of right now, you both

exited the car and made your way inside. you were

slightly nervous, though you’ve met everyone before,

but having to see people after already meeting them

once is weirdly even more awkward. once inside,

your arm intertwined with veneers, you were blinded

by spotlights and a huge chandelier over your head.

you saw a tall, tan person, who you remembered as

Arden, wave at venner who he waved back at, and

that’s where he dragged you to go. you made sure to

keep my arm tight around his.

“arden! you remember y/n,” he started, gesturing his

head towards you. you smiled with a nod and they

did the same. “yes, of course. both of you look very

nice.” they looked specifically venner up and down

and you bit your cheek.

“oh well thank you! you also look great. where’s

Lucas?” veneer asked, who you knew as their

director.

you zoned out as they both talked, but keeping an

eye on Arden, making sure their expressions weren’t

too exaggerated or incase they tried to make a

move on veneer. you obviously weren’t worried of

veneer reciprocating, but it still icked you

nonetheless. you then noticed someone approached

the little group, who you recognized as Lucas.

“ven! it’s nice to see you. and y/n, i’m glad you

showed up. veneer always needs his number one

supporter.” Lucas laughed and so did the rest of

them. you smiled and nodded. “it’s nice to see

you as well.” you were quiet as you were just lost

in thought a moment ago.

“anyway, veneer and arden, i was thinking as a little

teaser for the gram..” you cringed at his abbreviation

of “Instagram.” veneer and arden smiled

simultaneously.

“we could post a snippet of your guys’ hot scene…”

you felt your heart beating quickly as you shot a

glance at veneer then back at Lucas. did he really

just suggest that in front of you?

Arden clapped their hands together once and looked

to veneer. “oh, yes! imagine the fame that would

flood because of it !” they exclaimed, but veneer

expressed a face of uncertainty, but plastering a

smile.

“oh, i..” trailing off for a quick moment he looked to

you and you intervened.

“he would love to.” you said monotonously but with

a slight grin spreading on your lips.

no, no he wouldn’t, you told yourself, but oh, yes he

did, your tease told you.

veneer shot you a look of surprise but also distress,

but Lucas has already walked away while whistling.

“get the cameras UP!” he yelled enthusiastically.

swiftly pulling you to the side , veneer stuck his head

out at you and gestured his hands in a “what is this”

expression. you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“i’m not going to stop you from having fun. just

go do it, it’ll be a core memory for all of you.”

you explained, him biting the inside of his lip.

“i don’t really get you. just a moment ago you were

clearly uncomfortable…” he trailed off and shook

his head, but shot a smile at you. he kissed you

gently as his right hand ran through your hair,

then ran off to the others.

you watched the whole scene happen. the tension

between veneer and arden’s characters , the slight

touching , and of course, the kiss. that rose

dangerous flames in the pit of your lungs. you had

been digging your nails into your palm without even

nothing , which turned your knuckles white.

once the shitshow was over, you let veneer mingle

amongst his peers before you gave him “the look”,

which signaled you wanted to go. without thinking

twice, he started ;

“this was fun, but me and y/n have to get going.

photoshoot tomorrow.” that was always the excuse,

a photoshoot. and it always worked.

“ah, of course. it was nice seeing you two.” Lucas

replied, and Arden looked straight at veneer.

“i’ll see you soon, ven.” they said quietly. your

teeth grit and veneer took your hand.

after all the goodbyes, you and veneer exited the

house and got into his car. without exchanging any

words, he started the engine and revered out of the

parking spot, looking over his shoulder whilst

putting his hand on your head rest. you watched

him in the corner of your eye and felt your body

tense at this simple yet effective sight , and you

swallowed with a dry throat.

on the highway back home, you still felt fury in

your chest.

“pull over,” you said out of nowhere , veneer

looking to you, back to the road then at you again.

“what, why? are you gonna be sick?” he sounded

panicked and you looked at him, that being all

it took for him to put on his signal light and pull over

onto the shoulder of the road. he parked the car.

throwing off your seatbelt and pushing the buckle of

his, you threw your legs over to the driver side and

climbed atop him, left hand on his shoulder as the

other reached down to recline the seat. this all

happened so suddenly, he didn’t have time to react

until the brief 5 seconds you gave for you two to look

at eachother. his hands that were in the air slowly

lowered down onto your waist as his eyes scanned

the view in front of him. looking back into your eyes,

you crashed your lips against his with your hands

gripping the collar of his dress shirt.

both of you had craved this all night — veneer

more than you, actually. having to touch someone

else that wasn’t giving him the satisfaction of

what you gave sort of drive him mad. you noticed

his hands grew tighter on your body and his kiss

moved from gentle to hungry, you inhaling his low

exhales felt like taking a drag of a much needed

cigarette.

the cold surrounded around you disappeared as his

hands started to disperse on your back, running

up to your hair so he could pull your head back and

press kisses to your neck and collarbone. your

throat managed a sound you couldn’t explain,

and you let your eyes fall closed as you felt his lips

dragging slowly on your skin.

you loved how patient he was with your body, how he

took his time to explore what made you gasp and

breath out his name , like it was his only purpose to

do so.

pulling away, he looked up at you and pulled you

close to him by your waist, simply just gazing into

your eyes.

“i will never get sick of you.” he whispered , his voice

seeming to travel in the wind around your head.

you felt a smile quickly spread on your lips and you

cupped his face in your hands.

“i’d like to see Arden try and get that from you.” you

joked and he shook his head with a chuckle.

“they could never. no one could ever.” a moment

of silence sat between you two.

“i love you , y/n,” he kissed you again, pulled away ,

“my flower,”

another quick kiss to your lips concluded the closure

you needed. he loved you, and you loved him, and it

wasn’t just for show. ♡

*･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ ✧.* *･῾ ᵎ⌇ ⁺◦ ✧.*

a/n: FINALLY. i am so sorry. i’m so stressed out

but i love you guys pls eat my scraps 😞🩷

[olderthannetfic]

https://www.tumblr.com/olderthannetfic/753405110589259776/note-spoilers-on-this-ask-for-anyone-who-hasnt

I’m this anon, and using your anon box to reply to a bad take in the reblogs of it lol.

1. aO3 treats the show and book series as separate fandoms for Bridgerton. My friend’s genderbend fic though is based on the books — thought I made that clear here. And yes book fans were being genuinely homophobic in her comments, not just her interpreting them not shipping it as “homophobia.” It was full of “get out of OUR tag” and claiming just writing a female character in a male version or shipping her male love interest with a guy was “misogyny,” exactly as I said. It’s a huge problem in the fandom. The main Reddit sub is so full of homophobia that queer fans had to spin out a separate inclusive sub called r/bridgertonlgbt. I’ve heard of people on TikTok being called “bourgeois degenerate” and “groomer” just for questioning why it’s supposedly such a dramatic and horrible change to make Michael into Michaela in the show.

2. Can we finally fucking retire the really tired, knee jerk “book is always better” attitude that has never been universally true anyway lol. The books Bridgerton are based on are pretty middling het histrom that repeat plots so much between them that that’s one of the big changes the show has had to make — just not have seasons 1 and 2 follow the same plot beats like books 1 and 2 did. The show has had to make a lot of changes just because it has a bigger audience than your average het histrom reader and while I haven’t loved every shift, it is overall better for it. Or just like, focusing on more than just each season’s main couple like the books only do — also better! The subplots are some of the most fun parts of that show, but also, it makes sense that people are going to continue to want to follow their favs from season to season and not just zero in on each couple. Yes I’ve read all the books. They simply are just not that great, TV is a different medium than books anyway and so certain changes are necessary, and frankly most of the loudest parts of the “book fandom” online who complain about the changes are people who read the books because of the show anyway. They’re all wildly inconsistent in what they consider acceptable changes: they’re largely on board with making the universally white books more racially diverse, but not adding queerness and gender diversity. Why is one ok but not another? Especially when a lot of them are ok with sad or bittersweet queer stories in subplots like Brimsley’s but not happy stories for main characters. Why is that, I wonder? A lot of people are pretending to be “book snobs” as a mask for bigotry, or just have bad taste, but regardless I think we need to get over the idea that stalwart defense of some mediocre and overly tropey romance novels is more elevated or intellectual and like the show isn’t an improvement in being less lazy about the cliches of that genre than the original author. (Seriously, I read a lot of romance novels, so this is not a knock on the genre as a whole or its readers — but the Bridgerton books are SO lazy and SO repetitive. Honestly I think a lot of the book defenders need to read more histrom themselves. Then maybe they’d see how weak and lazy those books can be compared to what else is out there.)

Fandom please learn basic things about how adaptation between different mediums works 2k24 also stop assuming that consuming a story in text form over another is an inherently intellectual activity

--

A pretentious friend of mine who loves Shonda Rhimes was going on at me a while ago about how she ~always reads the book first~ and then waiting for applause as if that's unusual!

She then tried to launch into how shocked she was by the books being... well, lowbrow trash, but she had some complex and boring way of explaining this.

I was like "Honey, you do know what a regency romance novel is, right? Right?!"

I mean, there are adaptations that are nearly exactly like the middle tier of romance novels. They're movie length and they air on Lifetime. This was a change not only of medium but of overall target audience and vibe.

[glitcheslikeslego]

DISCLAIMER BEFORE WE BEGIN HERE: this is just me ranting and being done with certain sides of the lmk fandom, and not the fandom as a whole. if anyone decides to start trauma dumping or actively trying to start arguments in my replies again, i have a block button for a reason :3c

Okay, uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…

I think this fandom needs a lesson in media literacy and I am here to give one :3c!

So, media literacy is the ability to analyse stories presented in media to determine its credibility, and who better to talk about analysis than me, that one character analysis bitch uwu.

LMK is very main character focused, especially with MK since he’s, you know, the main character. It leans heavily on the plot of MK and his friends facing enemy after enemy, and with how short the seasons are (10 episodes each), it’s understandable that they won’t give every character large amounts of screen time, this especially goes for side characters, mainly Nezha, Li Jing, Red Son and his parents, Peng, Mayor, the Nine-Headed Demon etc etc. It’s all about MK and his friends.

Just because you like a side character, that doesn’t mean they need a whole season or special dedicated just to them. As seen with Red Son and Nezha, their familial issues are handled off screen, and just because you want to know more, that doesn’t mean that the show actually has to show it. And with Peng and the Mayor, just because we want to know where they are, doesn’t mean they have to show us. They may end up showing up, that’s not completely out of the realm of possibility, but you can’t expect the writers to shove every past character they can into a newer season.

While side characters can be important in moving a plot or explaining it more, they don’t completely matter in the long run. In season 3, the only reason why Nezha gets involved is because Wukong steals the map and they end up in a wild goose chase until Nezha arrives to wreck Wukong’s shit. Aside from that, his other appearances are relatively the same, something happens and Nezha just so happens to get involved and help out, then when all is said and done, he heads off to the Celestial Realm again. Same with Red Son, he just so happened to be involved, helped out a bit, then he and his family just vibe in their fortress. Really all the side characters just show up, help out a bit, then leave to do their own thing. In the end, they don’t really do a whole lot in the long run aside from help.

Now, side characters aside, let’s talk about headcanons. I like headcanons! I like coming up with my own and seeing other peoples headcanons, I think they're so neat! Headcanons on their own aren’t the issue here though, my issue is when people take headcanons and pass them off as canon and factual information about a character.

Take the genderfluid Red Son headcanon. I think it’s neat, it’s a fun and interesting idea, but when people try and use it as actual canon information, it can be pretty disappointing to newcomers who discover that a genderfluid character that they could possibly relate to isn't canonically genderfluid at all, but is instead just a headcanon from one storyboard artist. The person could feel tricked when they come into the fandom for the first time. That’s why I believe if it’s confirmed in the show or the creator themselves said anything about a character, then it’s true, unless stated otherwise.

In addition, just because you like a headcanon, that doesn’t mean you have to force people to like/believe in that headcanon too. And if you don’t like someone’s headcanon, that’s cool too, don’t harass them/bully them for it. The same can be said for ships too, if you do like it, cool, don’t force others to like it. You don’t like it? That’s cool too, don't bully them for it.

Tumblr has tag blocking and user blocking for a reason guys, you aren’t bad people for blocking people who you don’t like/don’t like you, and you aren’t bad for blocking tags for things you don’t want to see. Curate your online experience to cater to yourself and make you comfortable.

So long story short about media literacy and being online in general; take the time to understand what this show truly is, a silly lego show for kids ages 8 and up. Just because you like a specific character, that doesn’t mean they will get the screen time/on-screen development you want, and don’t harass other people over that. And while headcanons are cool, don’t pass it off as factual when it isn't.

Thank you all for coming to my class :3.

[finickyfelix]

Writeblr Intro: Up-to-date Version

About Me:

You can call me Felix. Adult, trans man, he/him pronouns exclusively. Also aromantic and bisexual, which probably explains a few things about how I write relationships. I am extremely shy and socially awkward, but I'm trying my best to become more social, mostly by talking in reblog tags, which is my main method of communication around here.

Also I draw, sometimes. I occasionally post my art here, but only very, very rarely.

I am a very big fan of Slay the Princess and Scarlet Hollow, so expect to see reblogs related to them sometimes.

Feel free to tag me in tag games, but I can't guarantee that I will do most of them. I only do them very occasionally. But tag me anyway; I want to see your writing! I am also open to asks.

I now have a sideblog @phantasmalfelix where I reblog random stuff that doesn't fit this blog. You're welcome to follow that one too if you want to get to know me more outside of my writing. I am currently way more active on that blog than this one.

What I Write:

I once would have said write fantasy, but who knows what I write anymore, honestly. Horror mostly, lately, I guess? Regardless of genre, I always write character-focused stories without much of a focus on plot. I often write fairly dark stuff so please be careful around here. Also I have been known to write (and reblog) NSFW writing. I do make sure to try my best to tag everything appropriately and use mature content labels when applicable, but still. I will also block any minors who interact with my NSFW writing or reblogs.

Below the cut are my currently posted works + info on my WIPs, which I shoved down there because this gets long otherwise. Please click on the read more if you're interested.

Currently Posted Writing:

Note: Although I have works on AO3, I no longer can use AO3 going forward due to reasons involving their updated privacy policy and my anxiety. So although my works are staying up, I can no longer reply to comments and I can't read anyone else's work on AO3 anymore. Sorry!

Snakeskin:

(Available on both Tumblr and AO3)

Part one on Tumblr

Part two on Tumblr

Linos Tievis, a failing medical student who has an interest in monsters, finds an injured monster on the side of the road. Obviously he can't just leave her there, so he does what he can to nurse her back to health. However, she hates him, which is making things difficult.

Word count: 11,117 (on AO3. The word count on Tumblr is a little different due to edits.)

Genre: I have been told that it's horror. It's not supposed to be scary though, just... subtly disturbing. It's mostly meant to be a character study.

Content warnings: Blood and injury, misgendering, familial death, childhood trauma/child abuse, gender dysphoria, non-consensual kissing, past sexual assault, sexual thoughts, kind of cannibalism threats. Very brief and minor mentions of animal death and self-injury.

Notable features: villain origin story set 15 years before Faded Daisy, has a one-sided and very toxic monster/human "romance," has authentic evil insane trans man representation. Also there is a hot lizard lady.

There is also a separate NSFW monsterfucking bonus content story that I wrote for Snakeskin that exists both on Tumblr and on AO3. The Tumblr version is better because I added a bit to it. Please do not click on that link if you are a minor.

Some Company for the Evening:

(Currently only available on AO3.)

Mazarian, a priest currently in line to become the High Priest of Palvis, has recently made a habit of sneaking out at night and drinking in the Lower District. He's kept his celibacy vow intact though; although he's breaking several other vows, this is one line he's not willing to cross. However, tonight he encounters a somewhat suspicious foreign prostitute who seems determined to make him break that vow.

Word count: 8,139

Genre: Fantasy-romance

Content warnings: No actual sex but there are a lot of sexual themes. Also contains themes of religion, implied self-harm, and mild transphobia

Notable features: Fluffy tea date, exploration of religious sexual repression, a cat indirectly contributes to a religious crisis

WIPS:

Faded Daisy:

A monster wakes up with no memories and no idea who or what they are, in a city that usually kills monsters on sight. However, they survive due to the help of the questionable Dr. Tievis, who names them Nameless and says he has never seen a monster like them. Grateful to him for saving their life, Nameless trusts him.

First draft word count: 38,656 words

Status: finished 8/10 of the first draft, taking a break from it at the moment.

Genre: Horror, probably

Notable features: Second person POV, a mad scientist, monsters, an extremely fucked up relationship.

Content warnings: Abuse, manipulation, injury and mutilation, blood and needles, borderline sexual assault, cannibalism, kinda maybe body horror?, referenced self harm, referenced child abuse.

Foxglove Dust:

Linos Tievis has lost everything, his career, his clinic, his assistant– and worst of all, the monster who he had depended on to try to achieve his life goal. But he's come back from worse. He'll get it all back, one way or another.

Estimated final word count: Probably slightly longer than Faded Daisy.

Status: Writing the first draft.

Genre: Also horror, probably.

Notable features: Human/monster sexual relationship that is actually consensual? Mad scientist gets a redemption arc??

Content warnings: Not entirely solidified, but expect suicidal thoughts, injury and mutilation, blood and needles, mention of past child rape, probably body horror of some variety, and probably explicit sex. Who knows what all else.

I posted some erotica involving the Foxglove Dust characters that you can read here without knowing much about Foxglove Dust.

I had other WIPs once, but I abandoned them all and Faded Daisy and its sequel are all that's left.

[kyouryokusenshi]

hi :)

can you write something about post S11 Mulder found TikTok and asks William to explain it and later Mulder asks Scully to do a TikTok with him (something cheesy or very dorky but cute)

It had been a quiet afternoon at the Unremarkable House, the kind of day where everything seemed to move at a slower pace. Mulder had been sitting at the kitchen table, laptop open in front of him, scrolling through the endless stream of what seemed like nonsensical videos when he stumbled upon something called "TikTok." The name alone intrigued him, and soon enough, he found himself down a rabbit hole of short, fast-paced clips—people dancing, pranking, lip-syncing, and generally doing things that he couldn’t quite wrap his head around.

"Jackson’s got to know about this," he muttered to himself, grabbing his phone and sending a quick text to his son.

It didn’t take long for Jackson to respond, and before Mulder knew it, they were on a video call. Jackson appeared on the screen, his face a mix of amusement and curiosity.

"Hey, Mulder. What’s up?"

"Do you know what TikTok is?" Mulder asked, as though he were about to crack some major conspiracy wide open.

Jackson grinned, already sensing where this was headed. "Yeah, of course. It’s everywhere. Why?"

"Well, I’ve been watching these videos, and I don’t get it. What’s the point? People are just dancing, and then there’s music, and sometimes they’re doing… well, I don’t know what they're doing, but they’re all just—having fun?"

Jackson chuckled. "That’s kind of the point, Dad. It’s just a place where people can post quick, funny, or even ridiculous videos. It’s supposed to be chill. There’s no deeper meaning or conspiracy here unless you want to claim that niche. You can do anything on it—dances, challenges, jokes, pranks, even educational stuff. You name it."

Mulder leaned back in his chair, frowning thoughtfully. "So, it’s like… a place to embarrass yourself in front of millions of strangers?"

"Pretty much," Jackson replied, still smiling. "But in a fun way."

Mulder pondered this for a moment, incredulous. "And people watch this stuff? Like, a lot of people?"

"Yeah, tons of people. Some of these creators are huge. People love it. And you can make your own TikToks too if you want."

Mulder’s eyes narrowed mischievously. "Interesting. And how do you make one?"

Jackson laughed. "I can walk you through it if you want, but I have a feeling Dana's going to find it hilarious if you try."

"Well, speaking of which…" Mulder glanced toward the living room where Scully was sitting with a book in her lap, completely unaware of his budding plan. "What do you think of me convincing your mother to do one of these TikToks with me?"

Jackson’s laughter grew louder. "I think you’re going to have your hands full with that. But I’d love to see it if you can pull it off."

"Challenge accepted," Mulder said, a grin spreading across his face.

Later that evening, Mulder approached Scully with the same determination he used when presenting his wildest theories. She was still on the couch with Lily fast asleep upstairs, now curled up with a cup of tea, and looked up at him, raising an eyebrow as he stood there, clearly plotting something.

"Mulder…" she said cautiously. "What are you up to?"

"I’ve discovered something today," he began dramatically, pacing a little as he built up to his request. "It’s called TikTok. Have you heard of it?"

Scully blinked at him, half-amused, half-bewildered. "I know what TikTok is. Why?"

"Well," Mulder continued, rubbing his hands together. "I was thinking… we should do one."

Scully stared at him for a moment, then let out a small laugh. "We should do a TikTok?"

"Yes. You and me. Together. Something fun, something… cheesy," he said, throwing in his best attempt at a charming smile.

Scully looked up at him, her eyes narrowing slightly as she tried to figure out if he was serious. "Mulder, we are not teenagers. What could we possibly do that anyone would want to see on TikTok?"

Mulder took a seat next to her, leaning in with a gleam in his eye. "That’s where the genius of it lies. We don’t have to do something crazy. We could do one of those cute, couple-y things people seem to love. I’ve seen some of these challenges where people throw stuff at each other and then hug or… I don’t know, something dorky."

Scully shook her head, smiling despite herself. "So, you want us to humiliate ourselves on the internet for the entertainment of the masses?"

"Exactly," Mulder said, beaming. "Come on, Scully. When was the last time we did something completely ridiculous together?"

She sighed, giving him a long look, but there was a softness in her eyes. "Okay, fine," she said finally, much to Mulder’s delight. "But I get to veto anything that involves dancing. Or singing, you know I cannot carry a tune to save my life."

"Deal."

The next day, they found themselves standing in the living room, Mulder holding his phone, looking way too excited for Scully’s liking. He had picked something simple—a cute couple’s challenge where one partner points to themselves or their partner in response to a series of questions about their relationship. Harmless, cheesy, and dorky enough to satisfy Mulder’s newfound fascination with TikTok.

Mulder propped the phone on the table, setting it up to record. "Okay, ready?" he asked, a glint of excitement in his eyes.

Scully crossed her arms, giving him a skeptical look but unable to hide the small smile tugging at her lips. "Let’s just get this over with."

They started the video, answering questions like "Who’s the better cook?" and "Who’s more likely to make the first move?"—pointing at each other and occasionally exchanging playful eye rolls. By the time it got to "Who’s the bigger nerd?", Scully pointed at Mulder without hesitation.

"I’m not a nerd!" Mulder protested, though he was clearly enjoying himself.

Scully shot him a look. "Mulder, you’re doing a TikTok with me right now. That speaks for itself."

When the video ended, Mulder stopped the recording, looking incredibly proud of himself. "That wasn’t so bad, was it?"

Scully shook her head, laughing. "You know, I’m actually surprised. That was… kind of fun."

Mulder grinned. "See? Now we’re officially TikTok stars. The internet’s going to love us."

"I don't know about that," Scully rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling as Mulder fiddled with the phone, uploading the video with a caption that read: When your partner’s still obsessed with the truth, but you just want to read a book.

As the video uploaded, Mulder leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple. "We make a good team, don’t we?"

Scully smiled, leaning into him. "Yeah, we do. Even if you are a dork."

Mulder laughed, wrapping an arm around her. "I’ll take it."

And as they stood there side by side watching their silly video on the screen, Scully couldn’t help but feel a sense of lightness. It was a reminder that, even after everything, they could still find joy in the little moments—TikTok or not. @today-in-fic

[robbbbbbbie]

I'm so deprate for Bowser x Luigi content I've come back to tumbler😭🙏

Sooooo if anyone on here has discord and roleplays, and wants to roleplay bowuigi LMK PLEASE 🙏🙏🙏🙏

I have some plots and ideas that we can use, I love hearing head cannons and your plots too! Below I'm gonna explain my plots and some in for about myself:D

I don't have experience with either character so I'm not picky though I think I'd probably be best with Luigi (plz don't make him a total push over if you play him tho..)

Please be 18

Plots

⪼slow burn where Luigi first gets close to the /a koopalings and then gets closer to Bowser. Perhaps a koopalings could get hurt or lost and Luigi helps them feel better and the koopaling gets attached. This would be a slow burn- kinda so the person playing Bowser is probably best taking the kids role to (idm who I play)

⪼ I love Luigi being a badass against king boo, or even permanently defeating king boo and taking/being shoved into his role as king of the dead. King boo and Bowser would have previously had treaties and Luigi would start talking with Bowser to redisciss those things and they'd get close that way. - this plot could follow these of discrimination, other kingdoms being scared of the boos/ghosts and being hesitant toward s Luigi kingdom despite him being a former hero.

⪼𝙄𝙣𝙛𝙤 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙚

⪼ I'll write whatever length, the more characters I play the longer the response tbh I don't ever wanna wrote loads to the point it forces a character to follow what mine has done you know?

⪼When writing it's okay if your response is a bit short but I expect at least and action and a dialogue or an action and a feeling I'd it's only one- two sentences so I have something to work with. AND NO ASTERISK I hate it and please be 3rd person

⪼Roleplaying is a casual hobby, I have a life outside of my phone so sometimes my replies might be late or at weird times, if I'm ever away for relatively long I'll send a message at some stage

⪼Please be 18+ as I've said. even if it's the most wholesome roleplay to exist with no romance or anything I don't care, I'm not comfortable with it. I like to rp about some serious topics even if it's Mario lmao.

⪼Anything else, like personal triggers or any other important matter can be discussed in Discord. if your interested do comment(or DM if you don't wanna put your username on a public post) I'm interested in hearing about any plots you have!!!!

Also if you know of any other spaces or communities I can look please help me out!!!

⪼Thank you!

-robbie