TL asleep? cool.
(long post, strap in)
i wanna talk about colin's wet dream. that was the most demisexual shit i have EVER seen. there's not even any sex. its just a romanticized, elevated version of their first kiss. its colin's subconscious wanting to replay the moment he fell in love with his best friend in the Most way possible.
lets break it down:
we got the same location of their first kiss. Complete with mood lighting and a fog machine. It’s giving pride and prejudice 2005
Penelope comes out (looking gorgeous, of course) to their rendezvous spot, which has been previously agreed on.
colin thanks her for meeting him, she doesn't know why he's asked her to come
he confesses his feelings for her
she reciprocates (this is the important part of this to me. ) her wanting him, makes him want her more (do you see where the demisexual colin energy is coming from? do you understand?)
they make out
he kisses her neck as she pants his name over and over (see my point above re: her wanting him makes him want her more)
he wakes up, absolutely shook
this is an idealized reimagining for colin: during their first kiss he was basically in shock, his new personality chokes on the reality and vulnerability of the moment
in the book he talks about how he tries to think of something witty to say but finds that no words are necessary, and there's no combination of witty banter or suave bravado that could help in that moment. the rake persona that he has put on up to this point absolutely fails him. but here, in this dream, words are crucial, the declarations of love are why its sexy! (demi colin is canon idc idc)
and its so important that this wet dream, the idealized version of this scenario happens like this. because we've also seen colin having sex with sex workers (and luke newton has talked about this) but his energy in those scenes is very detached, very focused on him and his pleasure with zero connection to the women he's with. he has two different threesomes (if you can even call the second one that, he's barely even looking at them) with four different women and we know nothing about these girls. they don't even get names. they don't matter, and its simply not. as. good. as the feeling of kissing pen. there is no connection
which is, i think, why he taps out during the threesome in ep4. he tries to go back to the devil-may-care attitude toward sex and intimacy that he had before kissing pen, he tries to return to that mask he put on of "the rake" and it just doesn't work! he feels nothing! in fact he feels disdain for the position he's in and the choices he's made!
the threesome in ep4 mirrors the outburst he has later at the club really well. like he's so frustrated with this position he's put himself in, the men he's surrounded himself with. he literally says "none of you are gentlemen!" "you're actually gross and disrespectful!"
a line that i love is :
"... it is tiring, is it not? The necessity imposed on us to remain cavalier about the one thing in life that holds genuine meaning. Do you not find it lonely?"
and they laugh! in! his! face! because these are men that feel perfectly fine sleeping with strangers and bragging about their "conquests" to their buddies
but that is not who colin is! he's still very young. and his experience with marina (who tried to seduce him and it didn't work, imo bc he just didn't feel that passion, that love that makes his relationship with penelope so different) has left him jaded, but not nearly as jaded as he wants to believe. even if he wants to be casual about romance and sex, he just isn't. this man proposed to marina after knowing her for what? a couple weeks? He is an All or Nothing type of guy. He has that Bridgerton 'when i fall in love i will only ever talk about my spouse' Gene
Now: some costuming details that i love:
Her hair:
(i know this is a stretch but go with me here) her hair is in slightly tighter curls than we've seen this season, which to me seems like a nod to colin liking (or at least not minding) her hair the way it was in previous seasons and maybe not caring as much as we might think about her transformation. but its still down and flowy and in line with her new style
let's talk about this! dress! (it has genuinely been keeping me up at night)
the sleeves seem much more similar to the silhouettes of her costumes in previous seasons, not necessarily in shape but in style
the sleeves are bulkier, compared to this season's costumes, which while they might have been the same size and shape, they are made of much lighter material, giving the silhouette a softer, more mature feeling.
compare it to this dress from s3 ep2: it looks very similar with the sleeve shape and the floral appliqués, but in the dress in the image above, the appliqués are much more obvious, closer to penelope's style under her mother's tastes
the point i'm trying to make here will be made more clear in a sec. what I am NOT trying to say that colin prefers her in her little girl dresses with loud designs, bright colors, and silly hairdos. he just associates those bigger, brighter, louder style choices with penelope.
And he has always liked Penelope. Even when he didn’t take her seriously as a potential partner, he always saw her as an equal. He never made fun of her silly dresses and questionable hair choices.
This has nothing to do with Colin but i feel like i should point it out:
there is something to be said about how her muted pastel color palette along with the more demure style that she has adopted shows that she is trying to Show Up with this social season, but as a wallflower, she is shy. she's always hated those brightly colored dresses her mother put her in, because no matter how close to the wall she clung, she was always visible. she was always vulnerable to ridicule.
but i don't think colin knows or realizes this because why would he think critically about the specific style changes she's made. and he probably doesn't really make the connection of the influence her mother has on her clothing. and around him, pen has never seemed all that shy. she's been confident and witty. if you pair her personality that shines around colin with her louder outfits, it seems more congruous
(take the scene from season 2 where we get the line "My purpose shall set me free") this is a side of penelope that no one, not even eloise!, sees
what his subconscious knows is that he associates pen with vibrant, textured, and often 3-dimensional outfits, and his subconscious creates a dress that fits her new style, with a little more of that featherington flair thrown in.
the fucking tie in front: i feel like this is a very clear reference/ foreshadowing to the mirror scene
for those of you who haven't read the book, the mirror scene doesn't actually happen, but colin tells penelope about a fantasy he has about touching her in front of a mirror
this is a pretty small offhand comment made while they're having sex for the first time but amongst book fans the scene has become pretty fleshed out i think, with fanfics especially
because the idea that it touches on is colin fantasizing about penelope seeing herself the way he does, as sexy and desirable (he seriously cares about her pleasure so much its sickening, I'm actually sick)
and although Book Colin doesn't mention it, the idea of him undressing her in front of a mirror has become a popular story set-up
i think the tie in the front sort of plays on the time period sensibilities of propriety: this is a time where in "good" society an unmarried man and woman would never touch skin to skin, its why all the women wear gloves most of the time. its why the scenes in season 1 between daphne and simon play on the excitement of removing the gloves: its a taboo thing
this is unrelated to this post but i need an explanation as to why pen isn't wearing gloves in a lot of her scenes this season, like the scandal that that would cause??? I'm assuming its representative of her growing into her sexuality; and bridgerton is a fantasy, not a historical nonfiction, but like some consistency would be nice guys bc i was so confused abt all the skin-on-skin contact happening. even with Francesca and Lord Samadani WHEN HE KISSES HER BARE HAND I WAS SO UNCOMFORTABLE FOR HER. especially because of all the glove-related tension in s1. but i digress.
so the tie in front is sort of a dare. even though its clearly an addition, and untying wouldn't actually remove her dress, its her (colin's subconscious version of her anyway) way of saying: "you could untie this, you could undress me if you wanted to" "i love you" "i want you"
and i think that's beautiful. this season is great and i will die on this hill.
If you've made it this far, congrats! you're just as feral as me! come and gnaw on the drywall with me while i post fanfics inspired by this season: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55988977/chapters/142190584
chapters 1+2 of my new fic are up
photos are from : https://www.cap-that.com/bridgerton/302/index.php?image=bridgerton3x02_1502.jpg
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posting my wips that I’ll probably never get around to writing to free myself of them part 1
untitled high school musical (not the movie) au
“I got it! I got it!”
Eddie turns his head to see Dustin bounding into the black box, a delirious smile on his face. He skids to a stop right in front of the table, chest heaving as he rests his hands on his knees.
“I got it,” he wheezes. “I got…I got it.”
Crossing toward Dustin, Eddie grins as he crouches down to look up at him.
“Breathe, dickhead. You got what? The clap? Heard that’s making the rounds.”
Dustin snorts, coughing out a laugh.
“No, asshole,” he says. “I got the part. I’m Seymour.”
Eddie stands to hook an arm around Dustin’s neck, tugging him into his side as he pulls the brim of his cap over his eyes. Dustin cackles wildly.
“Fuck yeah, you are,” Eddie beams, holding Dustin in a headlock while he tries to wriggle free. “That’s fucking amazing, man.”
Dustin’s hat falls to the floor as he manages to slip out of Eddie’s grip. He shoots him another toothy smile before pulling him into a hug.
“Congrats, kid,” Eddie says as he claps him on the back. “And you thought you bombed that audition.”
“Shit, I really did,” Dustin says, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe it. Freshmen never get cast in lead roles.”
A familiar voice comes from the other side of the room.
“They do if they’re right for the part.”
Ms. Shapiro stands in the doorway leading into her office, leaning against the doorframe. A willowy woman fond of flowy scarves and big banana clips, she’s hard to miss.
She peers at Eddie through her green-rimmed glasses as he stares down at his feet, silently hoping that she hasn’t graded his tech theatre exam yet.
The look that she’s giving him tells him that she probably has.
“Thank you so much, Ms. Shapiro,” Dustin grins. “This is, like, a dream role for me. Oh, man. I just…you have no idea.”
“Don’t thank me,” Ms. Shapiro replies with a soft smile. “You gave a great audition. We’re lucky to have you.”
Dustin grins even wider, still flushed and starry-eyed.
There’s a warm tug inside of Eddie’s chest. Precious little bastard. He’s not sure he’s ever seen him this happy, not even after winning a campaign.
“You can come by and pick up your script and libretto whenever you want,” Ms. Shapiro tells Dustin. “First rehearsal is Monday right after last period.”
Nodding, Dustin hoists his backpack onto his shoulder.
“I gotta go call Steve,” he says, turning to Eddie, “but then I’ll be right back to play.”
“Hey, no rush,” Eddie assures him with a lazy wave. “I’m still settin’ up. Go bask in it, Streisand.”
Eddie crosses his arms as he leans against the table, chuckling to himself as Dustin all but sprints out into the hallway.
He and Ms. Shapiro exchange glances.
Expecting her to disappear back into her office, Eddie goes back to busying himself with getting ready for that afternoon’s game. He dares a peek in her direction out of the corner of his eyes.
She’s still there. Just staring at him.
“Sorry for the, uh, noise,” Eddie says with a sheepish chuckle. “Kid just got excited. Dreams coming true and all that.”
Ms. Shapiro hums in agreement but stays right where she is.
“You won’t hear another peep out of me,” Eddie continues, pulling an invisible zipper across his lips. “I mean, uh, until everyone else gets here.”
“I was hoping to have a word with you, actually,” Ms. Shapiro says. “Got a minute?”
Panic crawls down the nape of Eddie’s neck.
“Uh, sure,” he answers, nothing in his head but Fuck Fuck Fuckity Fuck. “What’s up?”
Ms. Shapiro walks briefly back into her office to take something off of her desk before making her way over to Eddie. She pulls out a chair and takes a seat, placing a crumpled sheet of paper on the table in front of her.
“I have your last exam right here,” she says calmly, sliding it towards him. “I have to say I’m surprised that you even showed up to take it, considering that I’ve marked you absent for almost every class this year.”
Eddie’s heart drops into his stomach as he looks down at the exam, a big, fat 27 glaring up at him in red pen. He huffs a laugh, running a hand across the back of his neck.
“I really tanked that one, huh?”
Ms. Shapiro cuts her eyes in his direction.
“Yes. You did.”
She sighs, sitting back against her chair.
“Look, I know that my class is the last period of your day. You’re a senior. And it’s a class that you don’t really care about.”
Guilt sticks in Eddie’s gut like a knife.
“I never said that I don’t—“
“But unless you’d like to be a senior again,” Ms. Shapiro interrupts pointedly, “you have to pass.”
He’d been busting his ass cramming for O’Donnell’s exam that he completely forgot about Shapiro’s. Eddie had walked into her class that day without so much as a pencil.
Eddie’s shoulders slump as he flops into the chair across from her, his face buried into his hands.
“Yeah, I know,” he mumbles. “Fuck.”
Ms. Shapiro clears her throat.
“Sorry. Shit.”
“Listen, Eddie. I like you. You’re a bright kid and I don’t want to see you stuck here another year,” Ms. Shapiro starts. “But we just don’t have a lot of time left in the school year, so you don’t have very many opportunities left to make this up.”
She absentmindedly toys with one of the figurines on the table. Eddie clenches his jaw as he resists the urge to snatch it from her hand.
“That’s why I have another option for you,” Ms. Shapiro starts. “Something you can do to fix your grade.”
Eddie studies her closely, eyes narrowing. “Like…extra credit?”
“Sure.”
“What exactly are we taking about, here?”
“I only had three men show up to audition for Little Shop of Horrors,” she explains. “Three. The only one worth listening to was Dustin.”
Ms. Shapiro pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose before tenting her fingers in front of her.
“I had no choice but to cast the other two, but there are four male roles. I’m short one.”
They stare at each other. Eddie’s stomach drops.
“No. No. Nope, not me,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “You’ve got the wrong guy. There’s no way in hell I’m doing a musical. I don’t sing.”
“You’re in a band, right?”
“I play guitar!”
“Oh. Well, it’s really just talk-singing, anyway.”
“I don’t act!”
“Give me a break,” Ms. Shapiro laughs. “I hear you in here, Eddie.”
“This is dif—“
“This,” Ms. Shapiro cuts in, sweeping her hand over the table, “is acting. And you’re good at it.”
Eddie rakes an anxious hand through his hair.
“Ms. Shapiro, I will do anything,” Eddie pleads, “anything else. You don’t…you don’t want me in your show. Trust me. I’ll f—muck it up.”
“I doubt that.”
Groaning, Eddie runs a hand over his face.
“Please. Don’t make me do this.”
“I’m not,” Ms. Shapiro clarifies. “I’m simply giving you an option. It’s this—a guaranteed A in my class—or a failing grade.”
“Are you even allowed to do this? Is this illegal? It feels a little illegal.”
“Like you said, it’s just like extra credit. A lot of extra credit. I’m perfectly within my right to give my students opportunities to improve their grades.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, Eddie squeezes his eyes shut. The last thing he wants is to rot in this pit-stained cesspool for another year because of his grade in an elective.
A fucking musical, though. A singing, dancing, jazz hands-ing onstage spectacle. What better way to draw the unwanted attention of a bunch of brain dead meatheads than to step into a literal spotlight and make an idiot out of himself?
“Ms. Shapiro—“
“Hang on a second,” she says, cutting Eddie off as she goes to stand.
Eddie watches as she rummages around on her desk for something before walking back over to the table. She holds out another sheet of paper, thankfully not a second failed exam.
“What’s this?”
“I thought you might like to look at the cast list before you make your decision,” Ms. Shapiro answers, an unsettlingly pleased smile on her face.
Cocking a brow, Eddie takes it from her.
“I don’t know who else I’d know besides Henderson, but o—“
Eddie chokes on a breath as he stares down at the list, an all too familiar name typed out right beneath Dustin’s. His pulse pounds at his temples, the paper shaking a bit in his hands as he reads it over and over again.
Chrissy Cunningham.
Looking up at Ms. Shapiro, Eddie opens his mouth but no words come out, his tongue like a wet piece of cardboard. He swallows hard.
“I was surprised to see her at auditions,” Ms. Shapiro says as she takes the cast list back from Eddie. “I knew she’d be perfect for Audrey the second she walked in, though.”
Eddie’s blood rushes in his ears, his brain a useless pile of goo. He suddenly finds himself looking down at a thick libretto with the name Orin Scrivello scribbled across the top in black sharpie.
“Totally up to you,” Ms. Shapiro chirps, offering him the book.
After a beat, he takes it from her. It’s like being handed a hammer so that he can pound the final nail into his own coffin.
God, he’s so fucked.
“When’d did you say the first rehearsal is?”
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Husband is off work today, taking FMLA because he’s so stressed out about my surgery.
He’s worried something is going to go wrong.
I’m working my ass off because I’m so stressed out about my surgery.
I know that something going wrong is a possibility, but I’m more worried about things going as planned. No matter what, it’s gonna suck. I will be in pain, uncomfortable, a burden, depressed (post-anesthesia does that), and anxious (pain does that).
I just packed up six servings of chicken tortilla soup for the freezer though, that’s pretty cool. Less work for the guys. Obviously less work for me because I’m not doing shit after surgery! ��
I worry that they won’t keep up on the house. I’ve been burned before (not by them). So I’m cleaning as well as I can this week, all they’ll have to do is my usual “pick up and wipe down” of each room that only takes like 20 minutes.
If something goes wrong, I’ll be in the hospital, probably unconscious. Possibly dead. Then I really wouldn’t care lol. But if everything goes right, it’s up to me to recover as well as I can so I can…do it all over again for the reconstruction.
(Read more for more graphic worries, or don’t. My Read Mores are always optional.)
There’s also the visceral ick and body horror of what exactly is going to happen. Dr. Oncology Surgeon is going to cut my breasts off. Like carving a turkey.
Dr. Plastics is going to stick plastic expanders under the skin, then fill them with saline every two weeks to stretch my skin so it can hold fat from my belly to make two new pseudo-breasts. Imagining that and the reconstruction too hard makes me woozy.
They’re also taking my port, which most cancer patients are happy about because it means they’re “done” with cancer, but I’m grieving. My port saves me so much time and pain. Trying to hit these veins is like trying to thread a needle with twine. I usually get stuck 2-3 times for lab work where they can use a butterfly needle, 4-5 times for an actual IV start. It sucks and it hurts.
It is downright rude that I can’t have weed right now. Or alcohol, I’d settle for getting roaring drunk right now.
I’m gonna have drains coming from my wounds. *GROSS* I’m nervous about taking care of them.
Anyway, I think I need to watch Document 72 Hours now.
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This was on a reblog of a fic concept someone added one of my posts but I decided it was risking backlash against the person, and also it ended up half vent post, so just tucking it into its own little post here instead.
I'm glad you're enjoying this, but... Okay, actually, I'm really sorry but this goes against what I was thinking with this post in a lot of ways. I know you didn't intend any malice, but I just. I cannot not talk about this right now. I need people to know to just... not do this to my posts. Because it keeps happening.
I do know which "the younger person should be the sugar daddy, like they made an app or something" post you're thinking about, and i'ts a good post, but that is 100% an Obikin plot. Cody is not a guy to make a super successful app. That is an Anakin thing. In that respect, this is an Obikin fic in Cod*Wan clothing.
I mean, I've talked about wanting people to do more Obikin plots in Cod*Wan, but that's about exploring the age difference and power dynamics, not Cody Is A Tech Whiz.
A billion is too much. The only, only ethical ways to get to billionaire status are 'lottery' and 'relative I never heard of just died and left me everything.' In both cases, the only ethical way to proceed is to invest enough to live off of comfortably, and donate the rest. If an app makes that much money? The app is screwing someone over.
I also cannot imagine Obi-Wan in the financial industries sector unless he absolutely loathes his job or is an auditor who delights in making Rich People's Lives Miserable. Better option would be that Obi-Wan is the president of a charity that Cody partners with, like the CEO of a Free Housing For The Homeless initiative or a big name lawyer in an activist lobby for environmentalism or something. This might just be my "I am a business major who hates the business major norms" and look at financial services industry types with uhhhh distaste. If he's a financial advisor, it is for a nonprofit. At most, he is part of a company that specializes in helping rich people funnel their money into charitable ventures.
This also just doesn't fight my envisioning of either Obi-Wan or Cody.
I do need to throw in that my first thought reading this was my Codakin version where Cody wins the lottery and Anakin is the sugar baby. It's not that similar, but the vibes were there (for me).
Finally, it's just... the point of this post is that I find it frustrating when people make Cody the same age because I find it disingenuous to flatten the power dynamic. Some people do it fine, are multi-shippers who are as honest about Cod*Wan as they are with something like Obikin. If they have one fic where Cod*Wan are the same age with no power diff, and another where the power dynamic is flipped, and a third where the power dynamic is as in canon and just explored as necessary, that's fine.
But with the number of Cod*wan (and Barr*ssoka, which is full on NOTP for me as a direct result of this behavior, despite having a canon age diff of 4yrs) folk that have talked shit to and about me and mine for doing something similar with ships like Rexsoka or Obikin... The amount of shit I've had to deal with for shipping Rexsoka for adjusting ages in a modern AU, coming from people who do the same thing with Cod*Wan, is the driving force of this post. It's basically this: If I don't get to change the ages a bit to make things palatable, then neither does anyone else.
This is not just about the age difference. It's about looking at canon and going 'if you guys are going to give me shit for my ship, then play it straight on your end. What does it look like when you're honest about the power dynamic?
There is a reason my first suggestion is Cody having a crush on his boss.
The intent was always that Obi-Wan is the sugar daddy, because Obi-Wan is the General. Because Obi-Wan is the one with power. Because Obi-Wan is the one with control.
Because this post was about "if I don't get to change my ships to make them less problematic, then neither does anyone else."
Also because I just find a lot of Cod*Wan fics to be OOC, and not in the fun way.
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30 years old and constantly reposting other people's shit? go get a job
y’know, i think the thing that throws me off about anons like this is that they’re on anon. Because it puts the person in a position where if they want to respond, they have to put an insult to themselves on their blog.
i don’t know where i’ve ever claimed ownership of any of the frimages or gifs that i didn’t take or make, and of the gifs i do make i don’t even watermark half the time bc one, i forget to, and two, i honestly don’t give a shit about someone crediting me for them.
if i know who took a frimage and it’s not already watermarked then i absolutely will credit, and if i need to crop a frimage but it takes out the credit then guess what? i don’t crop it. same idea for gifs. thankfully most people do remember to watermark their gifs unlike me, and thus have their credit on the gif.
there was an instance where i posted a gif set and hadn’t credited bc i didn’t know who created them and the creator saw and rb’d the post about it and i edited the post with credit and a link to their post and encouraged people to go give notes to that post instead. then earlier it looks like someone linked credit to another gif i posted that i now see is a full gif set. of gifs that have been watermarked by the creator. a watermark that gives them credit. because they have essentially signed it.
i have absolutely no problem making a disclaimer tag for all the content that isn’t mine. i guess i shouldn’t have assumed that people were smart enough to realize/understand that the photos and gifs that i post on a frank iero fan blog aren’t taken or made by me for christ sake.
not only that, but i kind of hoped that if someone had an issue with something i do that even if they went on anon that they’d be at least respectful enough to do so without throwing insults. i’m a person who is always willing to make corrections to my actions and posts. last night someone let me know about a post that bothered them and they were on anon. they were so fucking respectful and yk what? we came to a resolution.
alternately, if someone wants to insult me i’d very much rather they have the courage and self respect to do it off anon or in my dms. because the funny thing about me? i don’t throw insults back. not even in real life. i don’t see the point in it.
finally, to address your insult? i do have a job, technically two. and i like them. there’s this fancy thing called a queue that i use during my working hours. but also, to throw an insult like that? “go get a job”? for myself that’s not hurtful, but there are people who don’t have a job and who are desperately and actively trying and can’t get one or are physically/mentally unable to hold a job. so for them, if they were to get an insult like this, which i know for a fact they do on the fucking daily, is incredibly hurtful and is something that has potential to push them over the edge.
so how about we try this again and you send me a respectful ask on or off anon or a dm about what you specifically take issue with and we can actually discuss it and see if there’s a solution to come to.~🎃
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