Honestly…. Twilight isn’t even that badly written. Yeah it’s not outstanding, but I’ve read so many other books with writing 10 times worse that were not even as interesting or readable. I think a lot of the hate Twilight specifically gets is because society automatically loathes anything that adolescent girls like.
Twilight-Style Covers If Jacob Was The Protagonist
A key for Twilight, not only because he was the key to Bella figuring out the Cullens were vampires, but also because all that time in his Pre-Bella head would let us “unlock” his character more.
A hazy full moon for New Moon, because while it was a dark time for him, he had Bella, which must have made what would’ve been the “new moon” phase of his life much, much more bearable. And hazy because of how confusing and conflicting his early werewolf days were. (And, okay, I couldn’t resist the werewolf joke.)
A stopwatch for Eclipse, because he’s running out of time to save Bella.
And an earth marble for Breaking Dawn, because so much of his world changes in the last book.
In the past, some rulers have disguised themselves as ordinary peasants and spent a few days among the townsfolk. They would visit the marketplaces, stop at local taverns, and mingle with their subjects with the latter being none the wiser. One reason they'd do this is so that they could see things from the perspective of their subjects, but they would also use these trips to find local problems that could be fixed. Have you ever thought of using an illusion spell to do something like this?
Frankly, it sounds rather dishonest. I think it’s good to mingle with ponies, but it should be about real interactions, real friendship, not under false pretenses.
Furthermore, if you think a disguise is needed, that indicates you don’t trust other ponies. Often the purpose of such disguises was to spy on the common ponies because rulers did not count on their loyalty (which was more a matter of them not being benevolent rulers who deserved such loyalty rather than any flaws among the commoners).
Granted, ponies do treat me differently because I’m a princess, which limits what data one can collect; a manifestation of the observer effect. However, any data collected while disguised is questionable in usefulness because it measures an artificial situation.
I think it’s better to be among ponies and let them grow accustomed to you being there, and not seeing you as some mythical figure or high horse. Eventually they will become comfortable and start acting like themselves. And then you will have real data from real interactions.
I'm sick and can't sleep and finals are next week and I'm so stressed out :( Can you write what Carlisle would do if he were here?
This is so late, and I am so, so, so sorry. I was trying to get through finals myself. Consider this little drabble a gift for working so hard and making it through another semester. I’m proud of you. x
“Darling, I really think you should-”
“Carlisle, I’m fine,” you huffed out a breath of irritation, which was undoubtedly mixed with the germs and bacteria that were the source of your current state of misery. One of the sources, you thought as you glared at the cluster of papers scattered around you on the bed.
When you noticed the surprised height of his eyebrows, you sighed. “I know you’re trying to help, but I just have a cold, Carlisle, I’m not dying. Go tend to your actual patients and let me study.”
He frowned, obviously dissatisfied with your dismissal. “You need to sleep, you’re quite insufferable when you’re sleep deprived.”
“I’m insufferable?!” your throat scratched at the exclamation, and you coughed a few times before continuing. “You bundled me up in so many blankets last night, I thought you were prepping to put me in a tomb!”
He didn’t even try to hide his smile, his golden eyes twinkling in delight at the memory of you squirming beneath the layers upon layers of cotton. “You looked adorable though.”
You groaned, crumpling one of your study guides into a ball and chucking it in Carlisle’s direction, though he easily caught it without shifting his gaze.
“What-” he caught another one, which only frustrated you more. “What are doing?”
“Stop catching them!” you grunted, throwing another paper ball into his hands. “Get out and let me study!”
“How are you going to study when you’re throwing all your material at me?” the amusement in his voice made you pause, and once you realized what you were doing, you cried out in frustration.
“See! Your excessive smothering has officially driven me mad!”
“I think it was your excessive studying that did that.”
Next were the pillows, which he blocked just as easily while his laughter filled the room, along with your sounds of frustration mixed with coughing fits. You didn’t stop until you felt the pressure of cool, scratchy fabric colliding with your face, the pillow falling into your lap after skewing your hair.
You blew a hot puff of air, the long strands hanging in your face dancing with the short gust, allowing you to see Carlisle’s smug face.
“Are you satisfied?” he asked, suddenly right next to you on the bed and reaching out to fix your messy hair.
You swatted his hand away, rolling your eyes when he simply dodged the gesture and started reorganizing the strands.
“Are we done braiding each other’s hair so I can get back to studying?”
“Be nice,” he mumbled and pulled on a lock of hair as a warning, smirking at the small noise you made in the back of your throat in response. “Hm, I like the sound of that.”
You laughed despite your vexation, hitting him in the ribs as he chuckled along with you. “Don’t be dirty, I’m mad at you.”
“You’re not,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head after your hair was fixed. “You’re just stressed out. I understand.”
You watched him pick up the paper balls and unroll them, and you held your hand out to take them once he had them in a pile.
“Uh-uh,” he shook his head and smiled playfully, holding the papers out of reach. “You’re going to take a nap, and I’m going to rewrite these notes for you since you destroyed them.”
When you went to object, he held up a finger. “And after you have a nice, long nap, I’m going to help you study. Understood?”
“Carlisle, I don’t have time for this, I-”
“Love,” he sighed. “You know this isn’t healthy, you need to give your body a rest. You aren’t going to retain anything when you’re this sick and tired, please just listen to me.”
When you stayed quiet, he took it as a win, smiling softly at your pouting face.
“You’ll thank me later,” he murmured, pressing a sweet kiss to your warm, clammy forehead.
You hummed a disbelieving mhm, which made him grin and lean close to your face.
“I promise, you won’t be anything but completely and absolutely sated tonight,” a mischievous flicker danced across his honey-colored eyes, as he snuck his hand up to tug at another lock of hair.
The little whine that passed your lips left him beaming as he retreated from the bedroom. “We definitely need to explore that.”
You took the pillow from your lap and whipped it at the back of his head, pursing your lips when he ducked out of the doorway laughing. You shook your head, smiling to yourself and falling back onto the mattress. It wasn’t even two minutes later when your heavy eyelids fell and you finally drifted into your overdue slumber.