#i feel this way about it having a tv tropes page too. wild

[charminglyantiquated]

I wanted to ask this on anon but I've decided not to be a coward. I know you do like submissions on the elsewhere account, but would you mind if someone wrote like a longform fic on like AO3 written from like the perspective of an Elsewhere student?

Ik you're okay with like submissions on the account itself, but I just wanted to make sure. I would have submitted on the Elsewhere account itself, but I didn't want it to be ooc.

Go for it! I believe Elsewhere U has been established on AO3 already as a fandom, you'd be in good company.

#which is always surreal to me. that elsewhere u exists beyond the confines of tumblr #i feel this way about it having a tv tropes page too. wild

[coffinsister]

Hi there!

I just wanted to let you know that I'd never heard of Saya no Uta until I saw you talking about it on my dash and I was like hey I'll look into that!! I had no idea what I was getting myself into, and it was definitely an experience. I've only played the route of choosing Saya and choosing to call Ryoko, so I still have to make the other choices to view all of the game's content, but I just wanted to come say thank you for giving me the second controversial piece of media I've been able to consume without my ocd throwing a bitchfit, because the whole story is fascinating from a psychological standpoint and that definitely drew me in.

I just wish the story was a little more 3D, I guess? Like the writing is overly descriptive of things it doesn't need to be descriptive of and underwhelming with the actual voiced dialogue. It's an extremely bizarre contrast. And from what little Japanese I've learn over the years out of SpInterest there are some translation points that aren't entirely accurate.

A big one is the fact that Saya speaks in third person which is a common cutesy mannerism for small children in Japanese media. In fact, she speaks super similarly to Maria Ushiromiya from Umineko ( complete with using 'uu!' for emphasis too ) which caused me to attach quickly to her for it. While it's true that this doesn't translate well into English, it does lose in translation just how young Saya really sounds while speaking. Because in Japanese she's saying things like 'Saya did this for Fuminori because Saya wants to be with Fuminori forever!' and it's getting translated as like 'I did this to make you happy. So you'll stay with me forever, right, Fuminori?' and those are two completely different tones. In fact, it's so overlooked from the English translation that this trope of hers isn't even mentioned on the The Song of Saya tvtropes page and that's wild to me.

Sorry, I didn't meant to turn this into a rant in your inbox asjklhd. Thank you for bringing this intriguing piece of media to my attention. 💖

Hiii, I'm so sorry for taking so long to reply to this ask but it was lovely getting it, so please don't apologize! We love getting long asks, and talking about our interests <3 And I'm really happy me basically screaming into the void about it, got you into it! That's great, that's exactly why I post about the things I like.

This was very interesting to read so thank you for sending it.

Side Thought: TV Troupes actually really really sucks for this kinda thing, it is widely innacurate with big media, and incredibly lacking for small media. So personally, I would not chuck TV Tropes lacking this as much to the (very bad, like super bad) official translation, as much as I would to the site just kinda sucking.

I'm sorry if I sound harsh, the website is fun, like any other wiki is, I just have personal beef against it, do not mind me, old man yells at cloud.

The first route I finished was also the one with Ryouko, and tbh, in my opinion that's the best one, but obviously seeing the other endings gives a lot of extra information, and character depth, so I hope you play through them and enjoy them too.

And yeah, I feel you, I wish it was more 3D and that I could have cared more about the characters, the writing definetly feels too much like purple prose, and way too descriptive about meaningless things sometimes, while also compeltley glazing over others.

Also big big same about the translation, I already posted my long rant about it, but it's really such a shame, because Nitro+ is actually so good at conveying character through dialogue, like actually reading some of the VNs in Japanese is a whole new experience on its own

And exactly as you said, it would have been far easier to understand Saya is a literally preubecent child if the translation had shown how childishly she actually speaks, or another big one, we would have gotten to see more of just how badly Fuminori wants to show off in front of Saya and Yoh, if the translation had actually shown him avoiding being fully honest with Saya.

Like there's so so many moments in Japanese of him just going, Well, about that, you know... to Saya when she's asking him about their plans together, and he's very reluctant to ask her for help, even when he really needs it, until she blatantly offers it, and he takes it.

In the Official English version he literally just goes "Well, the thing, Saya is that I failed to kill Koji, any ideas about that?"

So much character missed there, I feel like also missing the honorifics isn't helpful or good, like Yoh calling Oumi, Oumi-chan makes them feel way way closer, than just college friends who hang out between classes. And it gives you a better sense that they care for each other.

My hot take about translations is that they shouldn't just accomodate to what's most familiar to the target audience, in this case USA people, it should just make the media more accesible. It isn't a failure of art if it is a bit of a struggle to engage with it, it's good to make an effort to try to understand foreign art, even when the way the text is presented, isn't super familiar or relatable to you.

This is basically what everybody who isn't from an English speaking country already does lol

#The first few people I met who had played tcoaal way back in the day got into it from me posting about it on a different sideblog and it #means so much to me to this day I wanna keep sharing what I like so maybe other people will like it too #I apply the same mentality to reblogging art and fics #I have actually never read Umineko I need to get in on that either way it's always lovely to see you around and I'm always up for #chatting about my silly little vns :) #soleil asks #saya no uta #longer answer to long ask

[princesssarisa]

Character ask: Fitzwilliam Darcy (Pride and Prejudice)

Tagged by anonymous

Favorite thing about them: His fundamental goodness and generosity, and I don't just mean after his character development. Even before he meets Elizabeth, when he's at his proudest and most aloof, he's always been kind to his servants, good to his tenants, generous to the poor, a faithful friend, and a loving, caring brother. And of course after his humbling process, his kindness and politeness both to Elizabeth herself and to her relatives are exemplary (even if he does still struggle with it around the likes of Mrs. Bennet – he's only human), and the generosity and selflessness of all he does to save Lydia from disgrace are outstanding.

Least favorite thing about them: His arrogance and inconsiderateness before his character development, especially in his first proposal to Elizabeth. That probably goes without saying.

Three things I have in common with them:

*I'm not good at socializing with strangers.

*I try to always be generous to people in need or who depend on me.

*I like to read.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I don't have excessive pride.

*I tend to have too little dignity, not too much.

*I'm not of noble birth on either side of my family.

Favorite line:

His sarcastic response when Sir William Lucas calls dancing "one of the first refinements of polished societies" (yes, it has period-typical racist implications, but it's still a witty line):

"Certainly, sir; and it has the advantage also of being in vogue among the less polished societies of the world. Every savage can dance."

His response to Elizabeth telling him that his natural defect is to hate everybody:

"And yours is to willfully misunderstand them."

His famous declaration of love, even though the scene it takes place in is far from his shining moment:

"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

The last sentence of his letter to Elizabeth, bidding her farewell with genuine best wishes despite the fierce rejection and insults she gave him the day before:

"I will only add, God bless you."

His bait-and-switch response when Caroline Bingley, after a long string of insults about Elizabeth's looks, recalls that Darcy once thought she was "rather pretty":

"Yes, but that was only when I first knew her, for it is many months since I have considered her as one of the handsomest women of my acquaintance."

His simple, humble second proposal:

"You are too generous to trifle with me. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes are unchanged, but one word from you will silence me on this subject forever."

During their engagement, when Elizabeth asks him why he talked so little to her in his visits just before he finally proposed again:

"A man who had felt less might."

brOTP: Bingley, Colonel Fitzwilliam, and Georgiana.

OTP: Elizabeth.

nOTP: Georgiana.

Random headcanon: He's on the autism spectrum. This headcanon is nothing new to the fandom, but it makes perfect sense. See the TV Tropes Wild Mass Guessing page, under "Darcy is neurodivergent," for a good explanation of why. And no, it doesn't excuse his rudeness, or turn his entire character arc into "overcoming a disability."

Unpopular opinion: Where to start? I could argue that from the very beginning, he's a flawed but decent man, neither "just misunderstood" nor a total jerk. Or that he doesn't change his whole personality, and most certainly doesn't change "for Elizabeth," but because he genuinely wants to be a better person. Or that he's not a Byronic hero – in some ways he's a subversion of one. Or that his character arc isn't about "unlearning toxic masculinity." Or that even before his personal growth, he genuinely loves Elizabeth – it's not just lust that only becomes love when he's a better man. Or that he never mistakes Jane for a gold digger – he has nothing against her, he just thinks she doesn't love Bingley. Or that he isn't Elizabeth's total opposite and is her intellectual equal. The list could go on and on: @anghraine has covered it all in her fantastic Pride and Prejudice analyses much better than I can. At any rate, I think pop culture misunderstands Darcy almost as much as Elizabeth does at first!

Song I associate with them: None at the moment.

Favorite pictures of them:

This illustration by Hugh Thomson.

This illustration by C.E. Brock (I know it was just the fashion of the day, but the monocle makes him look hilariously prissy!).

The same artist's illustration of the first proposal scene.

This illustration by his brother, H.M. Brock. (A blond Darcy! Blasphemy! Not that the book ever mentions his hair color, but blasphemy!)

Laurence Olivier in the 1940 film.

David Rintoul in the 1980 BBC miniseries.

Colin Firth in the 1995 BBC miniseries.

Matthew MacFayden in the 2005 film.

#character ask #ask game #pride and prejudice #fitzwilliam darcy #jane austen

[scuttling]

Paper Rings

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 10,191 Tags: SFW, Fluff, Literature, Friends to lovers, Everyone thinks they're dating, There was only one bed, Some angst with a happy ending, Confessing love in the rain, TW fire and blood/wound Summary: Some of my favorite tropes rolled into one cute fic inspired by Taylor Swift's Paper Rings. (lyrics and music) Link to A03 or read below! “Good morning, my friendly neighborhood crime fighters,” Penelope says as she enters the briefing room, wearing a dress that is bright bubblegum pink, with fingerless gloves and glasses to match. You, Derek, and Spencer groan your replies, because you just got home from a case last night, with less than seven hours between arriving at your apartment and returning to the office, and that is everyone’s least favorite thing.

You can’t deny that her typical sunny disposition makes you smile a little bit brighter, but you’re still exhausted, and even your usual extra large travel mug of breakfast blend is barely taking the edge off.

That’s probably why, when Aaron enters with trays of steaming espresso drinks from the cafe down the street, and a striped box of donuts, you act like a kid on Christmas morning.

“Oh my god, I love you. Thank you, I love you.” He got an array of basic drinks based on everyone’s usual orders, and you scan for one that has something with latte, but he takes one out and hands it to you, smiling when you take a sip and sigh—okay, he’s smiling with his eyes, but you are well versed in his body language and facial expressions, and he’s practically grinning at getting your order (triple one pump hazelnut extra hot latte) correct.

You are not the only one to notice.

“Get a room, you two; it’s just coffee,” Derek says, taking the white mocha from the tray and drinking half of it in one sip. “Now if you tell me there’s a bear claw in there, I’ll confess my undying love too.”

“I don’t know; I asked for an assortment,” he says, and it’s clear he did, but your cup has your name on it; you cover the ink with your hand and take another grateful sip. “I do know there’s a plain glazed in there, though,” he says a bit lower, just for you, and you smile, give his wrist a squeeze, and dive for it before Jennifer Jareau can get her hands on it.

That’s all the morning meeting consists of—bickering and bantering and caffeine and carb consumption—and when the group disperses, you follow Aaron to his office and sit down in the chair across from his.

“Thanks again for breakfast. You definitely raised the morale of the troops,” you say with a sip of your perfect latte, and he shares the hint of a smile.

“You’re welcome. It helps that you’re all so easy to appease.” He flips open his bag, pulls out a small, worn, paperback book, tosses it toward you. You pick it up, run your hand over the well-loved cover, and hum.

“The Call of the Wild—this made it into the Aaron Hotchner Nightstand Collection?” He arches a brow.

“It’s so overrated that it’s underrated; no one ever actually reads it, they just assume they know what it’s about. It’s a great book, if you’ll give it a chance.”

“Hey, you’ve read all of mine without complaint; of course I’ll give it a chance.” You take the last, sad sip of your latte and stand up, point out the door with your thumb. “Speaking of, mine’s still downstairs on my desk. I’ll be right back.”

Exchanging books started as an offhand comment one night, on a flight home from Georgia, when he’d mentioned that he never buys new books, only cycles through the same ten or twelve he’s been reading since college. He knows what he likes, finds something different in the text each time he reads, and you’d found something so profoundly beautiful about that that you’d asked for the list. You wanted to know more about the books that tug at his emotions enough that he’s read them day in and day out for over twenty years with no boredom in sight.

He’d done you one better, said he’d be happy to lend them to you, if you’d like, and that was an offer you couldn’t refuse. Seeing college-aged Aaron’s notes in the margins of battered paperback novels was a prospect too good to be true.

Of course, you couldn’t accept the gesture without returning one of your own, so you’d offered to share your favorite books with him too, only... you don’t exactly give him your favorite books. You purposefully buy the cheesiest romance novels you can get your hands on, pass them off to him while he hands you poignant, classic novels that have won literary awards and Nobel prizes.

Today’s is called Lord of Scoundrels, complete with a shirtless man on the cover, kissing a woman with dark, flowing hair and a light blue dress; you snicker the whole way to your desk and back up to his office—earning curious glances from the rest of the team—and when you drop it on the desk in front of Aaron, you watch closely for a reaction.

As usual, he doesn’t really give you one, just flips the book over, skims the summary on the back, and nods.

“Sounds interesting,” he says, and your heart does a little flip.

He could easily hand the book back, laugh in your face, refuse to read something so clearly out of his wheelhouse, but he thinks these novels are important to you, and he never fails to read them, offering his favorite parts the same way you do for his.

The world probably doesn’t deserve Aaron Hotchner; you definitely don’t.

“I think you’ll really like it. Sebastian and Jessica start out kind of indifferent toward each other, but the more they interact, the more they find they have in common. It’s very acquaintances to friends to lovers, if you’re into that.” He looks up with an expression you place as uncertainty, even if you’re not quite sure the reason for it. You smile softly. “I should get to work, but thanks for the book. I’ll see you at lunch?”

It’s been so nice lately that you started taking your lunch outside, sitting on a bench beneath a huge, shady oak tree, and Aaron had taken to doing the same; you both quickly realized it was stupid to sit outside together, apart, so you meet up in the bullpen now and walk out side by side, spend the hour talking about your books or the team or Jack or life in general. He shakes the uncertain expression, nods his head.

“Of course. Thank you,” he says with a wave of the book, and you head back downstairs to start your day.

You’ve become mostly accustomed to the feeling, but it still surprises you a little when all that gets you through the day is thinking about your next conversation with Aaron. A week later, you’re on a case in Pittsburgh, and you and Aaron are paired up to room together. That’s nothing unusual—it seems like you’ve been rooming together more often than not lately, which is fine by you; he’s tidy, quiet, always interested in a late night snack, pretty much the perfect roommate—but when he opens the door and you step inside, the single king size bed in the middle of the room takes you by surprise.

“Uh… do you think it’s a mistake? Or maybe they just ran out of doubles?” you suggest; he's kind of frozen in place, and while it’s not ideal, you know it’s not actually going to be a problem. You’ve shared a bed with JJ before, and Spencer, and even though you don’t feel the same way about them as you do about Aaron, you think you can manage a couple nights in close quarters.

“Probably just ran out of doubles,” he agrees after a moment; he doesn’t bring up calling the front desk to ask for another room, so you don’t either, just hang your clothes and head into the bathroom to change into your pajamas and do your nightly routine.

It’s a little awkward at first, and you don’t know why; over the last six months or so, he’s actually become your closest friend on the team, and conversation usually comes easily, but silence settles over the room uncomfortably as you slip between the sheets on your side of the bed.

He goes into the bathroom, does his own nightly routine, then comes out in his pajamas and turns on CNN.

You take out your book, pay no attention to Aaron, but the longer he sits on the edge of the bed, staring at the news ticker on the television screen but not actually watching it, the more you wish he’d just get over himself and come to bed. If he’s trying to wait for you to fall asleep, he’s going to be waiting a while.

“So you were right; I love Buck,” you say as a way to start some conversation, to bring some normalcy to this unusual situation. You hold up the book you’re reading, the one he let you borrow. “His struggle between remaining loyal to his owner and answering the call of the wild—I love dogs, but I never imagined a book about a dog could be so moving.”

He turns back with a soft smile, then switches off the tv and heads over to his side of the bed; he pulls back the comforter, slides between the sheets, meets you toward the middle of the bed.

“I told you you’d like it; what chapter are you on?” He leans over to look, so close it wouldn’t take much to lift a hand and brush it over his hair; it looks unfairly soft, and part of you wants to card your fingers through it, to tug on it and mess it up a little. He probably wouldn’t even mind if you did.

“Chapter 7—I only have a few pages left.” You snuggle more comfortably against your pillow, lean into his shoulder, and move the book so it’s more evenly between you. “Want to finish it with me?”

He does, and you read silently at a similar pace; he reaches up to turn the pages, and you think about how these hands have flipped through this book so many times before, what he might have been thinking, feeling, while reading. It’s a more intimate act than you’ve shared with anyone in a really long time.

When you finish the book, you sigh, let the feeling of reading a really great story envelope you; you turn to face Aaron, and he’s looking at you… and then there’s a knock at the door that startles you both.

He gets up, walks over and checks the peep hole, then opens the door.

“Are you sure?” you hear JJ ask, and he steps back so she can enter the room; when she sees you tucked snugly into the middle of the bed, she shoots you a soft smile and mouths you’re welcome, which makes absolutely no sense without context. You’ll have to bring it up to her later and ask what exactly you’re supposed to be thanking her for.

“So you said the detective called?” Aaron prompts her, and she looks away from you, nods.

“Yes, he wanted me to ask if we could have a few agents meet him at the second crime scene tomorrow instead of the precinct, figured it could save a little time.” Aaron looks confused, like he doesn’t see why this couldn’t have waited until tomorrow, but he ultimately agrees.

“Sure. You, Reid, and Prentiss can head straight there, if that’s what he wants. I’ll let them know in the morning.” JJ nods, and looks over at you, and then back at Aaron, who makes a kind but curious face. “Was there something else?”

“Huh? Oh, no, that’s it. I just didn’t want to forget. I’ll let you guys go—enjoy the rest of your night,” she says with a smile and a wave, and when he closes the door behind her, you both exchange a look.

She’s definitely acting a little weird, but it’s late, so you give her the benefit of the doubt.

You scoot over to your side, put the book on the nightstand and switch off your lamp; Aaron climbs back into bed and switches his off, too, and he turns to face the wall while you lay on your back and stare at the ceiling.

It takes about half an hour, but he falls asleep first; you turn to face him, watching his back, following the rise and fall as he softly breathes in sleep, and the peaceful rhythm lulls you into submission, and you drift off as well.

When you wake up a couple hours later, he is on his stomach with his face pressed into his pillow, and you are draped over his back with your cheek against his t-shirt. It’s soft, and warm, and smells like him, and you glance at the clock and realize it’s too early to do anything but get comfortable and fall back asleep, so that’s exactly what you do.

The next time you wake up, to light creeping in between the curtains, Aaron is no longer in bed, but you’re holding his pillow, still warm beneath your cheek. He doesn’t act weird when you get up and start moving around, just pops out of the bathroom with his toothbrush dangling from his mouth.

“Got you a latte,” he says around it, gesturing to the desk and the pair of paper cups that sit on it, and you grin.

“Seriously, you’re my favorite human,” you answer, and you grab your coffee and lean against the doorframe, sipping and sighing until you’re a little more clear-headed. “Sorry if I crushed you; guess I was restless last night. I usually don’t move around that much.”

He just shrugs, spits out a mouthful of foam into the sink.

“You didn’t crush me. I’m pretty solid, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“I’ve noticed,” you tease, looking at him over the lid as you take another sip. “Now hurry up and quit hogging the bathroom if you want to leave here at a decent hour.” He rinses, zips up his toiletry bag noisily for dramatic effect, and slips past you, rubbing a hand over your unruly bed head as he goes. The day passes quickly, with lots of interviewing witnesses, following dead-end leads, and bad police station coffee. When Aaron calls it and tells everyone to get some dinner, you all split off into smaller groups—Spencer and Derek go for Chinese, JJ and Emily opt for pizza, and you and Aaron end up at a retro diner with burgers and milkshakes and a plate of fries between you to share.

“I think we should be focusing more on the docks,” you say, dipping a fry in ketchup and taking a bite. “Even if that’s not where the bodies end up, it seems to be where the unsub is meeting with the victims. We could stake it out tonight, maybe. If you want.” You never want to step on his toes, because he is the boss, the leader, even if you’re friends too; you try to be careful how you phrase things, especially in front of other people, because you don’t want your comfort to look like disrespect, however unintentional.

“That’s a good idea. You and I can head down there after this; I’ll let the others know to patrol nearby, in case we need backup.”

He dusts off his fingers and pulls out his phone, types out a text, and you look around the restaurant—the place looks like it was ripped right out of the 50s, with a checkered floor and lots of red vinyl, a shiny jukebox in the corner. Out of place is a flatscreen tv behind the counter; during the day, when it’s busier, it might play news or sports, but you two are the only ones here at the moment, so the staff is hanging out beneath it watching a movie. It’s Titanic, you realize, when the iconic ‘Rose floating on a piece of debris’ scene plays, and you snort, take a long drag of your chocolate shake.

“I always hated this part. They could have found a way for him to survive, too. Unnecessary death for the heartache factor,” you say, and Aaron looks up from his phone to the screen, makes a sound of contemplation.

“I always thought it was kind of romantic. When you love someone, you’d do anything for them to be okay, even at your own expense. Even if it’s stupid.” You look over his face, study the features you know like the back of your hand, and you guess you can kind of see that, but you can’t say that, so you just sigh.

“I suppose you think Romeo and Juliet is romantic, too,” you tease, and he looks back at you, rolls his eyes.

“It’s very much of its time; it's a lot harder to suffer a miscommunication like that these days. And there is something to be said for star-crossed lovers—people who shouldn’t be together, for one reason or another, but can’t help but drift close anyway.” You swirl your straw in the metal cup, thinking briefly of how that happens to describe the two of you, and when you look up at him, you think you see a hint of that same thought on his face.

More likely, that’s just wishful thinking.

“I like the sword-fights,” you say to lighten the mood, and he laughs, and you both polish off the rest of your food and then head for the docks.

Two hours in and absolutely nothing has happened, but just when you’re ready to complain, or suggest playing I Spy or something, there’s movement from one of the shipping containers to your right. You nudge Aaron, point to the container, and you both creep closer, trying to make out the situation.

When you’re just around the corner, it’s clearly two men fighting, but you obviously don’t know if this is your unsub, two random guys having it out on the docks, or what, so you mutually agree to wait until you have some kind of sign that this is your guy. When one of them pulls out a hunting knife that looks vaguely similar to your murder weapon—as close as you can tell in the dark, anyway—you raise your guns and identify yourselves as FBI.

The unsub drops the knife, but fists his hands in the other guy’s jacket, manhandles him to the edge of the dock, and shoves him into the water, then jumps as well. You swear, and Aaron takes off his jacket, throws it on the ground, then his phone on top of it, and looks back at you.

“Stay here and call for backup,” he instructs, and then he jumps in too; you call the team from your comms, get a response from Emily, and then toss your phone onto Aaron’s jacket and follow him.

He, of course, went for the victim first, so you look for the unsub, who is not visible above the water. You completely submerge yourself, feeling for more than looking for him, because the water is cloudy on a good day and pitch black at ten o’clock at night; when you pop your head up for air, you see Aaron getting the victim up onto the dock, and the unsub bobbing a bit further out. You swim to him, limbs aching, and he seems to know it’s time to give up.

He’s winded, gasping for breath, so you keep him above the water to your own detriment, dragging him by his wet jacket instead of cuffing him, because you’re not trying to kill the guy or lug his unconscious body back to shore. You just barely keep your own head above water most of the time, coming up for big gulps of air when absolutely necessary.

You finally make it to the dock, and your team has arrived, so Derek pulls him out of the water, makes sure he’s alright, and puts some cuffs on him. Aaron’s hands are on you right after, getting you up on the dock, wrapping a towel around your shoulders.

Despite the warm spring breeze, the water was freezing, and you can feel your teeth chattering. He rubs your arms for warmth, crouches down to look you seriously in the eyes.

“Thought I told you to stay here,” he says with an arched brow, a scowl you can tell is more concerned than angry. You wet your frozen lips and try your best to smile.

“You jump, I jump, Jack.”

He looks at you like you’re an idiot, but fondly, if that’s possible, then hugs you so tightly, guides your face to press against his warm neck. How he’s not teetering on the edge of hypothermia is anyone’s guess.

“Your lips are practically blue. Stupid,” he murmurs, but his mouth dusts over your temple in what is unmistakably a kiss, and when you’re able to feel your lips again, you reciprocate, press them a little harder against his throat while you shiver in his arms.

It doesn’t mean anything except I’m happy we’re both alive. Probably.

That night in bed, he faces the wall, and you stare at the ceiling, but you wake up with your nose against the back of his neck. The way he’s breathing tells you he’s not asleep, and when you wrap your arms around him, he holds them tight. Things don’t change after Pittsburgh, and that’s okay. You are comfortable with the way things are, and you love what you have—lunches under the oak tree, the exchange of books, late night texts when you both can’t sleep, hands brushing when you walk to the parking garage, glances shared across the jet. All those things make it easy not to focus on what you don’t have, what you’re not even sure Aaron would want anyway.

You exchange books again on Friday at lunch: he hands you Beloved by Toni Morrison, a book you already know and adore, and you hand him Ravished by Amanda Quick.

“Dubbed the Beast of Blackthorne Hall for his scarred face and lecherous past, Gideon,” Aaron shoots you a glance—“that’s purely coincidental”—“was strong and fierce and notoriously menacing. Yet Harriet could not find it in her heart to fear him. For in his tawny gaze she sensed a savage pain she longed to soothe... and a searing passion she yearned to answer.”

You hold back a smile.

“It’s a modern retelling of a classic story—Beauty and the Beast,” you add, taking a bite of your sandwich. He looks you over like there’s something he wants to say, but he just tucks it under his arm and steals a piece of melon from your lunch.

“I have Jack this weekend, so I probably won’t get to read much, but it sounds intriguing.”

“Well I hope you like it when you read it. Tell him I said hi; it’s been too long since I saw him. I bet he’s looking more like you every day,” you say, popping a piece of melon into your mouth. He smiles softly.

“A little, but Haley says she sees her father in him, and I have to agree. We may have to wait a few years until he looks like me; he’s too cute for that now.” He doesn’t sound self-deprecating, just fond, but you can’t let a comment like that stand, regardless.

“You’re cute; the difference is that kids are cute all the time. You’re an adult, so sometimes you’re handsome, sometimes you’re cute, sometimes you’re hot… it can be hard to reconcile.” This time, he looks you over with something light and playful in his eyes, and it’s something you want to explore, but the timer on your phone goes off, indicating that lunch is over, so you just exhale softly and pack up your things.

You don’t talk much after that—his Fridays are usually busy with meetings, and he leaves in a hurry to pick up Jack, which is understandable.

Emily, JJ, and Penelope invite you out for drinks and dinner—“because we know Hotch is busy,” Penelope says, which has literally nothing to do with your weekend plans, but you don’t correct them—so you don’t linger either.

You go out for Italian, so you are sleepy and full of wine and pasta by the end of the evening, and you smile at your friends.

“Thanks for inviting me out tonight, guys. I had a really good time.”

“Of course,” Emily says, taking her last sip of Pinot Noir. “We barely see you anymore; it was long overdue.”

“Definitely,” you agree. “I should really try to drag my ass out of bed more often.” You can’t help it, though, that after a long day, your bed and a good book just call your name. You’ve always been introverted in that way. JJ laughs softly, chin in her palm, elbow on the table.

“Honeymoon phase. Give it another couple months and you’ll be past that.” You do have a new memory foam mattress that has made sinking into the pillows and blankets all that more indulgent, but you didn’t think JJ knew about that. And you’ve never heard of a honeymoon phase for a mattress before.

“Eh, I don’t think so. There’s literally nothing more satisfying on this earth.” The three of them exchange an amused look, but your phone vibrates, and that catches your attention; you smile when it’s Aaron, sending you a photo of Jack with a toothy grin and his hands covered in fingerpaint. You look up to the sound of chairs scraping against the floor.

“Alright, we’ve lost her. See you all Monday,” Emily says, pulling you in for a hug; when she steps back, she smiles. “And tell Hotch we said hi.”

“I will,” you promise as you hug the other two. You hang back a moment, type out a reply—Looks like you’re having lots of fun without me!—and get into your car to head home.

You change into comfy clothes, drink a glass of water, and climb into bed with Beloved, and at around 9:30 you receive a reply.

Having the most fun we can without you. Maybe next time Jack is over, we can tempt you with dinosaur chicken nuggets and fingerpaint?

You smile, the happiest you’ve been all night—and that’s saying something, because you really did have a great time—and send back, It’s a date. Come Monday, you’re feeling pretty good, well-rested and relaxed from probably too much time in bed, but Aaron looks upset when he walks into the morning meeting. He keeps it short and sweet, and everyone disperses quickly, giving you sympathetic looks as you hang back to try to have a word with him. He clears off the white board, tidies up the table that doesn’t need tidying, and you place a hand on his back, gentle and comforting. He sighs, and you can feel the tension leave him almost instantly.

“Hey. What’s bothering you?” you ask softly, leaning around to try to catch his expression; he looks tired, sad, and maybe a little conflicted, leans into your touch.

“Taking Jack back to Haley’s was rough last night; it always is, but yesterday was really bad.” You know a little about this from weekends past, how Jack always cries when Aaron has to leave, how he feels terrible about it for the rest of the evening, but it must have been extreme for him to still be so upset. “And Haley…” He sighs again, runs his hand through his hair. “It’s like it’s one step forward, two steps back with her sometimes.”

“Why don’t we go sit in your office and you can tell me more?” You want to continue discussing this—that’s what friends are for, and he’s clearly in a bad state emotionally, you think it could help—but he just shakes his head.

“No, I… it’s okay. I don’t want to weigh you down with my problems.” You take your hand off his back, lean a hip against the table and look up at him.

“I’m not just your friend when it’s all easy breezy, lunch in the sunshine, talking about our favorite books,” you say with a sad smile; he reciprocates a little, which is more than you expected. “I’m here when things are complicated, when you have bad days, too. The Monday blues especially.” One of his hands rests on the table, and you cover it with yours, lean in to press your forehead to his shoulder. “Let me be here, okay? Even if all you need me to do is listen.”

It takes a moment, and his eyes are wet when he finally responds; he inhales deeply, nods, and brushes his free hand over your head in something of a hug, murmurs a rough, “okay.”

You sit in his office for an hour—which, again, is more than you expected—listening to him talk about his weekend with Jack, how heartbreaking it was to take him back to Haley’s, how he tried talking to her about taking him more often and she just wasn’t sure she could trust him to do what he says he’ll do. He understands where she’s coming from, knows he’s been unable to keep his word in the past, thinks he doesn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt; he hasn’t asked for advice, seems to just want to vent, so you just listen.

“Then I mentioned you, that you might come for dinner next time he’s over, and she was worried about that,” he says, exasperated, and you frown.

“Why would she worry about that? I’ve been around him lots of times.” It doesn't make sense, because Haley has always been nothing but sweet to you; Aaron looks up at your question, and it seems a little like maybe he hadn’t meant to say that part, though you can’t imagine why.

“It’s just different now… because he’s older,” he says after a brief moment of hesitation. “She doesn’t want him getting attached to someone who might not always be around, you know.” You sigh softly, because if that’s all it is…

You lean forward, take his hand, squeeze it tight.

“I’m always going to be around, Aaron. I can talk to her, if you want, tell her that.”

“No, it’s—you don’t have to do that.” He squeezes your hand back, closes his eyes for a beat. “Just hearing you say it, it makes things easier. I’ll talk to her again next time.”

You talk a little more, and he seems a lot better afterward, even if he is a bit less expressive during lunch; you figure any progress is good, but it makes you sad to see him so down, so naturally, you formulate a plan to help get him back to the Aaron you know and love.

At the end of the day, when he makes his way to the bullpen, you spin around in your chair, take him by the sleeve.

“You’re coming home with me tonight,” you say in no uncertain tone of voice. “For a few hours. I’ll bring you back for your car.” He agrees with a fond look, and you lose yourself in the expression for a moment, then stand up, grab your things, and walk with him out to the garage.

Rush hour traffic is what it is, and you leave Aaron in charge of the music, which means you get The Beatles and The Who, Rolling Stones and Neil Diamond, and you’re both singing along and so much happier by the time you pull into the parking lot of the bodega nearest your apartment.

“Just running in for provisions—be right back,” you say with a grin, and when you return with two paper bags of loot, he looks at you like you might be his favorite person in the world with an age in the double digits. It’s a look you love putting on his face.

“Do I get to see what provisions you’ve acquired?” he asks, teasing, but you shake your head and tell him he’ll see it when you get there.

With a pit stop in your apartment to grab a blanket and a few throw pillows, you take him up to the roof and get things ready for your makeshift picnic. There is white wine, still mostly chilled; cubed cheese, far from gourmet but no less delicious; crusty french bread that was fresh this morning but at this hour is a little extra crusty; blueberries, because they didn’t have grapes; dark chocolate, because you share a fondness for it; and paper cups for the wine.

Aaron takes a look at your bounty, spread over the blanket, and smiles the first real smile you’ve seen all day.

“Fancy,” he teases, and he takes off his jacket, gets on the ground with you. You pour each of you some wine, pop a blueberry in your mouth.

“No, but I thought a meal—and I do call it that loosely—under the stars might do you some good.” You lift your paper cup and tap it against his, brush your fingers over his hand. “To the best boss, best dad, best friend I could ask for.” You take a sip, but he doesn’t at first, watches you with something simmering behind his eyes.

“Do I get to make a toast?” he asks after a few beats, and you smile, nod, and hold up your cup. “To the only person stupid enough to jump into a freezing cold river after me. To the only person I would consider eating a bodega dinner with. To the only person who sees me the way you do.” You both take a sip, which is hard to swallow around the lump in your throat. He looks into your eyes, then breaks the dark chocolate into slivers and hands you a piece like he didn’t just say the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to you before.

You eat, and talk, and drink, and when you’re done with dinner you put everything back in the bags and lay back on the blanket, side by side, and stare up at the stars. The moon is high and full, shining while the stars twinkle around it, and you can’t think of a single time you’ve ever felt more at peace.

“This was really perfect,” Aaron says, almost a whisper, after about twenty minutes of companionable silence. “I can’t thank you enough for being there for me today.” You turn to face him, hands curled up under your chin, and he turns toward you as well. He’s so handsome in the moonlight your heart almost aches.

“You don’t have to thank me. I just wanted to see you happy.” You feel your eyes well up with tears, because he deserves to be happy; you sigh, blink them away, and he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead, rests them there for a long time. When he eventually pulls back, you bring a hand to his hair, brush it back at his temple, and then the creaking of the door makes you pull back, sit up.

It’s your neighbor from 422, who you’ve seen on the roof a handful of times, sneaking away from his wife to smoke a cigarette. He squints in the dark, recognizes you, and waves.

“Hey, 418! You’re not alone tonight.” Aaron sits up too, and you laugh softly.

“Nope, but we were just leaving. The roof is all yours.” Aaron stands, pulls you up, and you grab the blanket and pillows while he grabs the bags, and the two of you head back down to your place.

It’s after ten when you get the groceries put away, and you stand next to Aaron in your small kitchen, contemplating what you want to say next. Your mouth betrays your brain, says what you’ve been thinking but weren’t quite sure how to approach.

“It’s late; I know I said I’d take you back to your car, but you could stay here if you want. I have a spare toothbrush, and I know you have a spare suit at the office, and it’s not like it’s the first time we’ve shared a bed before.”

You’d completely understand if he’d rather go home—you hate when your plans are changed at the last minute, and you prefer to do your full nightly routine for your sanity’s sake—but he only nods, and you lead your way to the bedroom, show him the master bath.

You are in your pajamas, tucked into bed, when he comes out in his boxers and undershirt; he hangs up his suit in your closet where you’d left him some space, then climbs in beside you. He looks over at you, then past you, at your nightstand, which has a stack of books on it—none of them romance novels. You grin, busted after months of book exchanges, and he leans over you to look at the titles.

“Persuasion, To Kill A Mockingbird, One Hundred Years of Solitude—Beloved.” He looks from your copy of the novel to his, which you hold in your hands, and you shrug sheepishly.

“I like reading the notes you put in the margins,” you say meekly, hoping he’s not angry, but all he does is laugh.

“Let me guess: you don’t actually like romance novels.” He leans back against your pillow, and so do you, resting the book on your lap.

“I mean, I don’t not like them… but I’ve been buying those just for you.” The smile on his face is brilliant, and only makes you yearn for him more; things you have been purposefully not feeling are flooding your heart and mind and body now, with him so close, laughing over this stupid secret you’ve been hiding for so long. “And you, sweet man that you are, have been reading them, and discussing them.” You put your hand on his shoulder, and he ducks his head to laugh again.

“Since we’re being honest… I didn’t read all of them. I tried,” he says when you act offended, shoving the shoulder you’re resting against, “but some of them were so bad. I just flipped through, found something I thought could pass as my favorite part, and hoped to hell you didn't ask too many questions.”

You both laugh until you’re breathless—he is so different from how he was this morning it makes you want to cry—and when your laughter dies down you look at each other, sharing breath, two heads on one pillow; is it any wonder you bridge the distance, pull him close for a warm, gentle kiss?

When you break the kiss, you are instantly worried about what Aaron will do—you aren’t drunk, aren’t even tipsy, so you know he can’t be, so much bigger and more solid than you, but will he think it’s a mistake? He kissed back, you’re pretty sure, but maybe that was an accident, something done on autopilot—

He leans in for a second kiss, mouth deceptively soft, and you curl your arm around his back, press into it with lips desperate not to let this end now that it’s started. When you separate, you are both looking into each other’s eyes again, breathing a bit heavily, and you meet in the middle for a third kiss, the best kiss you’ve ever had in your life.

That kiss ends when you yawn in his face, and he chuckles softly, leans over and switches off your bedside lamp; you smile at the ceiling, and he wraps his arms around you, presses his lips to your shoulder, and tells you good night. The next day, the two of you arrive at work early so he can shower and change into his fresh clothes without anyone on the team noticing—not that you think they would really care, but they’re nosy, and a little annoying, so you both agree that’s probably for the best.

You don’t talk about the kisses, even though they’ve been the only thing running through your mind since they happened; you promise to discuss it at lunch, though, and that’s such a sweet, romantic prospect that you think you prefer it better that way anyway.

Only, you don’t ever get to lunch, because there’s an urgent case in Minneapolis, an all hands on deck situation, meaning even Penelope joins you on the jet. You debrief on the flight, hunker down in the conference room, and split up to cover more ground; you barely get to speak to Aaron the whole time you’re there except to be given instructions and to fill him on what, if anything, you’ve learned.

You don’t even make it to your hotel that night, working around the clock to catch the people responsible for terrorizing the city. It takes not one, but almost two full days, and when you board the jet on Wednesday evening, everyone is dead on their feet. You barely remember the flight or the trip home, and you fall onto your bed fully clothed and crash just like that.

Thursday is your birthday, which you almost forgot, and so you assumed everyone else would too. You should have known better, because even if your team can be annoying, they are still your friends, and they love you, so you are well and truly spoiled.

You are treated to a latte and bagels from Emily, purple cupcakes with silver sprinkles from Penelope, a piggy back ride from Derek, a book of poetry you’ve had your eye on from Spencer, and a card from JJ—really, it turns out, from all of them.

“Enjoy a romantic getaway on us?” There’s some kind of certificate in the card, and when you flip it over, you discover that it’s for a hotel and spa that offers couples massages, mud baths, intimate aromatherapy? You arch a brow. “Uh, thanks, guys. Are you trying to tell me something here?” JJ’s face falls a little and she points to the card.

“It’s a romantic getaway. For you and Hotch? Since things have been so hectic lately,” she says, but your ears are kind of ringing and your brain is stuck on the for you and Hotch part.

“Oh. Um. Sorry—it’s just kind of soon, I think? How do you guys even know about that?” you murmur. The two of you haven’t had time to discuss Monday yet, and you haven’t spoken a word to anyone; you wouldn’t have guessed Aaron would have either, but there is a gift certificate for a romantic getaway in your hands, and you’re kind of spiraling.

“Well come on, we haven’t exactly been pretending we don’t know,” Emily says, and you can feel the confusion in your features when you look up at her. “And you guys haven’t been exactly secretive. We’re happy for you, though.”

“I mean, we haven’t been secretive, but we haven’t really had a chance to talk about it yet. It’s only been three days.” You are met with looks similar to the one on your own face.

“What do you mean, three days?” Spencer asks with a frown. “You and Hotch have been dating for almost two months. Right?” he says, looking at the others, and they nod, but it’s tentative. Your first reaction is to flush, and you close the card, fan your face with it.

“You guys think… You guys thought…” You look at them, then up at Aaron’s office; there’s no way he can know that you’re having a moment, but he chooses then to come downstairs, coincidentally. He’s smiling at first, but it falls when he looks at your face.

“Hey. Is everything okay?” He presses a cool hand to your hot cheek, flicks his eyes over yours, and JJ makes a noise; when you glance over at her, she’s gesturing between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, we were wrong? What were we supposed to think?” Aaron frowns, not following, and you take a deep breath.

“They got me a gift certificate for my birthday. To a spa. For you and I to have a romantic getaway, because they were under the assumption we’ve been dating… for two months.” The way he pulls back quickly makes your stomach ache a little, but you say nothing. You should have known.

“You say I love you,” Derek begins like he’s listing evidence. “You have lunch together every day. You’re always smiling at each other.”

“Seriously, some of the softest, gooiest smiles I’ve ever seen,” Penelope adds.

“You eat together on cases, you’re texting all the time when you’re not together.”

“I’ve been pairing the two of you up in hotels since I first figured out you were dating,” JJ says, and the whole ‘you’re welcome’ thing suddenly makes some sense. “I booked you that room with just the one bed so you’d maybe feel more comfortable about us knowing, so you’d see that we don’t mind.”

“You’re always looking at each other, always touching,” Spencer says. “In Pittsburgh—that was the first time you really hugged or kissed each other in front of us. We were trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal, but it was kind of a big deal.”

You look over at Aaron, try to gauge his reaction, but for the first time in a long time you can’t tell what he’s feeling. You can’t really tell what you’re feeling, either. Sadness. Worry. Loss? But what have you lost?

“We’re friends,” you say, even if it sounds weak to your own ears. “We’re… close.”

“We wouldn’t exactly make sense as a couple, would we?” Aaron asks rhetorically, and your heart clenches when he says that. He told you this morning that he’d made dinner plans for you, both for your birthday and to discuss the kisses, what they mean, where you go from here, but that doesn’t sound very promising anymore. “We’re just—”

“Star-crossed,” you say, but you feel like your eyes are vacant. You can hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You’re stupid for kissing him, for letting yourself think he could feel the same way you feel, have felt for a while. Isn’t friendship enough? Don’t you already have this special bond so unlike what you have with anyone else in your life? Why press your luck? You know better than that. “We should get back to work.”

You don’t look at Aaron, so you don’t know whether or not he looks at you. JJ does, and you can tell she knows you’re upset, but she just nudges everyone on their way, and you take a seat at your desk—it’s covered in balloons and streamers, the Penelope special.

You’ve never felt less like celebrating.

At lunchtime, Aaron stops at your desk, and the two of you walk out to the bench, open your bags in silence. You’re almost halfway through the hour before he tries to speak.

“Uh. I. About earlier,” he finally gets out, looking down at his sandwich, and you shake your head even though he’s not watching you.

“It’s fine. We don’t have to.” You take a bite of your salad even though you don’t taste it. “You’re right, it doesn’t make sense. You are who you are,” smart, sweet, handsome, tender, caring, “and I am who I am.” Too quiet, too young, too impulsive, too silly, too emotional. He nods, looks at your face for the first time in a while, swallows.

“Right.” You’re due to exchange books back—his is on your lap, yours is on his—and he picks them both up. “I’m like this,” he says, holding up Beloved. “Faded cover, dog-eared pages, scribbles in the margins: middle-aged, divorced, a little broken, barely holding it together for the kid I don’t get to spend enough time with. You’re like this,” he says, holding up Ravished. “Fresh and glossy and shiny and new, with your whole life ahead of you, the whole world ahead of you. You could do anything, with anyone.”

You frown, because this is not what you meant, at all. How could he think that about himself, when the well-loved cover and the dog-eared pages and the scribbles in the margins are all the best parts of him?

“Aaron,” you say, but it sounds like pleading; you reach out to put your hands on his arms, but he pulls them back. His eyes are rimmed red, lips pressed together to hold back everything he’s not saying.

“I think lunch is almost over.” He packs up his things, leaves you with tears in your eyes and a wilted salad and a brand new romance novel you’re never going to read.

Later, he cancels dinner, says something came up, and you go home to your empty bed and watch Titanic and bawl your eyes out when Rose tells Jack she’ll never let go. Friday, you get another case. Weekend cases are no one’s favorite, but especially not yours, when you desperately needed that buffer of time away from Aaron to sort out your feelings and get back to some sense of normalcy. Instead, you’re flying to a small town outside of Nashville to catch a serial arsonist, and when you get to your hotel, you and Aaron are sharing a room.

At least there are two beds, this time.

You go with Emily and Spencer to a crime scene, walking around a house that was once picture perfect and is now all charred wood and ash, and you quickly tell yourself to get a grip and not look for metaphors for your own life while trying to solve a case. What kind of investigator are you? Pathetic, apparently.

You work until evening, and when it’s time to break for dinner, you buy a sad looking assortment of items from the police station vending machine and eat in the conference room by yourself.

It’s a good thing you do, because they get a call about the fire while everyone is still away, and you and a few locals are the first on the scene.

It doesn’t start out bad, mostly located in the back of the house, but you know how quickly these things can spread, and the fire department is working hard to put it out. One of the officers is talking to the family, and the mother is crying, so you come closer to figure out why.

“She said the daughter was supposed to be staying at a friend’s, but sometimes she changes her mind at the last minute and comes home. She can’t get ahold of her,” the officer says, and you nod, thinking.

“Where would she be? The front or the back?”

“Her room is in the front, second floor; if she’s here, that’s where she’d be,” the mother says, wiping her eyes with a tissue, and you tell the officer to stay with them, that you’ll take care of it. You talk to the firefighters—this town is so small there are only two that were able to respond, and they’re both busy trying to put out the fire, but they clear you to go in if you stick to the front of the building and get out of there as fast as you can.

Your team isn’t here yet either, too far out for comms to be effective, and you can’t get ahold of Aaron, so you make a judgement call and head inside.

The front of the house is so eerily normal it’s almost easy to calm your nerves and pretend the back isn’t in the process of being destroyed. You open the front door, run up the staircase, and call out for the girl; she answers, not from the front of the house, but the back—a bathroom maybe? Flames lick up the wall beside it, but you can get to the knob, and she comes rushing out, into your arms, terrified. You weren't expecting that, and you both fall back: your head hits off the floor, but she seems okay, so you tell her to run out the front door and find her mom.

You press a hand to the back of your head, and it comes back tacky with blood. There’s ringing in your ears for a couple of minutes, and then your favorite voice in the world comes through.

“Where are you? We’re here, where are you?” You’re getting hotter, and when you crane your neck up, you can see why: the fire is getting closer, creeping toward the staircase, creeping toward you. You inhale, cough, and press your walkie button.

“I’m upstairs in the hall; hit my head. It’s not safe.”

“I’m coming for you.” You groan. Stubborn man.

“It’s not safe, Aaron.” You hear the crackle of static, hope maybe he heard your warning and will wait until more firefighters arrive—but knowing him the way you do, that’s just wishful thinking. His voice rings out again, and despite the pain, you can’t help but smile.

“You jump, I jump, Jack. Just stay put; I’ll be right there.” You close your eyes, drift in and out of consciousness; when you see him, all you can think is how ridiculously in love with him you are, and that you really hope you’ll be around to tell him. You are, of course, fine. Your head is the worst of it, even the smoke inhalation was mild, and the fire didn’t touch you, so there are no burns. Aaron doesn’t leave your side the entire time you’re being checked over, looks serious and concerned, though he smiles when the mother comes over and squeezes you so tightly you wince a little. It starts to rain, making the firefighters' jobs a little easier, and it feels oddly cleansing, after the day you’ve had. Someone offers you an umbrella, but you decline.

The fire is successfully put out, and the half of your team that didn’t respond to the scene responded to a call for suspicious activity, which ends up being your unsub. You are all happy no one was killed this time, and since you’re staying the night again, the group decides to grab a drink to celebrate. You don’t have a concussion, but your head still aches, so you pass, and Aaron passes with you.

You head to the hotel, park in the lot, but you don’t even make it halfway across before you stop, a hand on his arm.

“I need to say something,” you tell him, and he looks up at the dark sky like, right here? Right now?, even though you’re both already drenched. You nod, because if you don’t do this now you might never—almost dying always gives you an unhealthy amount of confidence, which you attribute to equal amounts of adrenaline and stupidity. “When we first met, I didn’t think we’d have a lot in common. We’re both quiet, but in wildly different ways, and I’m quick to trust and let people in while your guard is almost never down.”

He looks a little sad at that, and you realize you’re kind of doing what he did, putting the two of you into completely different categories, emphasizing the ways you don’t belong together. But that’s dumb, so you don’t give him time to focus on that for long.

“But being your friend, Aaron—the more time I spent with you, the more I came to feel like no one has ever understood me the way you do. No one has ever seen me the way you do.” Rain is pouring down all around you, beating against the pavement, flattening your hair against your head, but you don’t care. Regardless of his reaction, this is actually kind of perfect. “I didn’t mean to fall in love with you—that was an accident, I admit. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” You step closer to him, put your hands on his waist; he doesn’t pull away. “I don’t need shiny, glossy things; you're the one I want—faded cover, dog-eared pages, notes in the margins. I love you exactly as you are.”

He is gorgeous in the rain, water in his hair, dripping off his nose. His expression looks hopeful, and you pray to god that’s not wishful thinking.

“Say something, anything,” you beg, anticipation killing you, and he presses his hands to your cheeks and pulls you close for a deep, passionate, soulful kiss that says it all.

The words are nice to hear, though.

“I didn’t mean to fall in love with you either,” he breathes against your lips when the kiss breaks. “I told myself it was just a crush, because someone so young and beautiful was paying so much attention to me, treating me like more than just the guy giving orders. But the more time I spent with you, the more undeniable it became. You are everything good about the world—bright, optimistic, caring, funny, sweet. How could anyone not fall in love with you?”

You swallow hard, lean up to press your lips against his again.

“When you said we wouldn’t make sense as a couple…” He shakes his head.

“That was just me chickening out. After we kissed, I was all but ready to ask you to go steady,” he says, and you both smile, because he’s such an old fashioned dork, but god, do you love him. “And then we found out that the team thought we’d been together for months, and you looked freaked out, so I freaked out. I’m sorry. I should have made us talk about it sooner.”

“Classic pointless miscommunication,” you say with a laugh, and he chuckles too, kisses you again.

“Let’s go inside and get dried off; there’s a birthday gift in my bag I’ve been meaning to give you.” He takes your hand, and you head up, duck into the bathroom to change into dry clothes, squeeze the water out of your hair. There is a small, flat, wrapped present on your bed when you emerge, and you smile, sink down to open it.

It’s Romeo and Juliet, a brand new copy, but when you flip through it, there are blue inked notes in the margins. Aaron comes to sit beside you, touches your face like you’re something precious.

“The course of true love never did run smooth,” he murmurs, and you smack him on the arm with the book.

“That’s from A Midsummer Night's Dream, and I know you know that,” you say with a grin. He nods in admission, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, lean in for a warm, loving kiss. When you pull back, it’s with a soft smile. “Give me my sin again?”

“My pleasure,” he whispers, and you sink into his embrace and promise never to let go. The following week, you both leave work at noon on Friday so you can enjoy your romantic getaway. You drive to the spa, and Aaron reads over the brochure on his phone with a tone you find hilarious.

“Mud bath—I’m not bathing in mud. That’s counterintuitive.”

“It’s special mud; more like clay,” you say, but he snorts, scrolls.

“Seaweed wrap—nobody is wrapping me in seaweed. That sounds like a nightmare.” You laugh softly and take your exit.

“It’s supposed to be rejuvenating. JJ recommended it.”

“JJ weighs fifty pounds. It would take all the seaweed in the Atlantic to wrap me,” he says, and you roll your eyes, jab your finger into his ribs.

“But what if I get to unwrap you?” you ask, eyebrows raised; you briefly glance over and he makes a face of contemplation.

“Okay, that’s a maybe. Intimate aromatherapy—what does that even mean?”

“I think it means we do something that makes us smell good and then we go back to our room and kiss and stuff.”

“Now that doesn’t sound half bad,” he murmurs. “Foot massage? I’m not letting a stranger touch my feet, that’s weird.” You look over at him, squinting.

“You literally plugged someone’s bullet wound with your finger yesterday, but someone touching your feet is where you draw the line? Will you do anything on the list?” He scrolls down it, and his extended silence makes you laugh.

“Meditation. Couples massage,” he says, reaching over to rest a hand on your thigh. “There’s a sauna.” You think of him, sweat-drenched in a fluffy white towel, and take a deep, calming breath. “I bet the room is nice; did you bring a book?” You smile indulgently, reach out a hand to brush through his hair.

“Yep. It’s called A Duke’s Wild Kiss…” He gives you a mildly withering look, and you lightly tap the bridge of his nose. “Just kidding. I brought To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf.” His answering smile is brilliant.

“Are you serious?” You nod, and he gestures to the backseat, where your bags are. “That’s what I brought, too.”

You spend too much of your romantic getaway in your room, but it is really nice; you do the couples massage, though, and aromatherapy, and the sauna, and then you take turns giving each other a foot massage while the other reads To the Lighthouse out loud.

The world probably doesn’t deserve Aaron Hotchner; you definitely don’t, but somehow you get to keep him anyway. A/N: Though I snuck in a few parts of a few different lyrics, two lines in particular inspired this fic: 'Now I've read all of the books beside your bed' and 'I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this.' A lot of my fics lately have incorporated books... guess I better get reading!

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x female reader #hotch x female reader #hotch x reader #paper rings #inspired by #taylor swift

[meduseld]

Anyway lately I’ve had Lost Boys (1987) on the brain for reasons and my mind working the way it works I’ve fixated on this note on its TV Tropes page: “the original script for the first movie was written for a G-rated film with most of the main characters being children Laddie's age. The Frog Brothers were going to be somewhat chubby Boy Scouts, and Michael was apparently going to be about thirteen years old. Basically, it would've been a Grimmified Peter Pan, right down to David and Star's characters being named Peter and Wendy. Joel Schumacher described it as Cub Scouts turned vampire. This is also the reason for the whole "boys need a mother" bit at the end, which in the released film just comes off as Max being insane.”

And I can’t stop thinking about a) how good that would be and b) how much I want that. Like don’t get me wrong the film we do have is great and fun and Kiefer S hot and so forth! But like. I want a movie like that. Not even really G-Rated, actually, because in this day and age that means Disney and no, Mouse, hands off. But like the way that moves the plot and largely keeps it the same?

Like 13 y/o Michael (the names are too on the nose, sorry) sneaking away with these boys he just met bc no one around is his age and Sam, if you would even keep him in this film, isn’t going to be leaving the house and Michael wouldn’t be trusted to watch him. And these kids get up to wild antics...... for 13 y/os. They do act weird, and oddly too old for 13, but enough to be brushed off and for Michael to pass it off as normal. And he has to get back home way sooner and has a bicycle, not a motorcycle. And these kids have a hangout sure but you know or feel they have a home to go back to later. It adds to the brothers bit. And they mention that they don’t have a mother, pointedly perhaps, and Michael is like I don’t have a father... Maybe they do talk about their dad, like the Delightful Children From Down the Lane do about their Father, or we even see like his leg or something. And sure we know something feels very very off but like, passable off? Like human explanation off? Like the kids might have snuck Michael a beer (it’s the blood bottle) and the Frogs really are just Michael’s overbearing neighbors you think are trying to be his friends (yeah I think I’ll cut Sam and Star/Wendy, sorry, it’s just not that much of a workable draw if he’s younger and might not be in a able to talk to girls place yet) and then the hit of it being Max and wanting the whole family thing? But basically a sort of IT but the Losers’ Club is actually very evil. Idk I just have this mental image of Max at the house being like “my boys” maybe even “I told my boys to make nice/make friends with yours” and then David and the others like materializing and David clinging to his leg like he’s much younger and having an effect on Lucy, only for him to set a glare on Michael and we know he’s 13 in body but much older in mind and very, very pissed.

#idk if i'm explaning it right but there's a very specific idea and vibe in my head and i just wish it was a thing #also good metaphor for rite of passage reaching adulthood etc etc #is this anything? #who knows?

[abruisedmuse]

Just went to the elriel tag to look at their art because I genuinely love them but now I feel somehow. I am fairly new to the fandom and don’t know how things work and that people go all out for shipwars I didn’t know if you don’t ship a certain ship you should stay away from their content they made me feel so icky for shipping elucien they didn’t use the exact words of calling him a creep but there was so many insinuations I legit saw one say that if you ship elain and lucien your weird because why would you ship people that are uncomfortable around each other. Neglecting the fact that there is a reason and deeper meaning to why they have this reaction towards each other and it’s not because elain thinks Lucien is a creep he is literally one of the most respectful males in this series , honestly I didn’t know the fandom was a cutthroat place like this and I do love the contents but it’s a lot for me. I didn’t know who to tell since your practically one of the first eluciens I followed and looking at your page it’s feels like safe space so hope this ask is okay.

First sorry I'm late to the response (my little one was sick and I've been offline 90% of the day). And this is always okay! Anything on your mind Fandom or not send me an ask. I'm happy you think of me as a safe space ❤ ❤

E/riels are a special brand of wild and moronic behavior. Not all but majority of them are some of the biggest immature cyberbullies I've ever witnessed. I'm so sorry you had the unfortunate pleasure of dealing with them.

Elucien is endgame. They can accept it and keep E/riel as fanon or leave the Fandom.

This is what I don't understand. Obviously not every ship in every book, movie, TV, etc will be Canon. We all have tropes we favor and characters we think would be good together. They won't be endgame. They might not even have a relationship. But that doesn't stop fanon. With fics, edits, art, head canons, whatever. Your ship can exist in Ganon. You can have this happy little slice of fanon heaven. I've done it time and time again.

You know what I didn't do? Change narratives in the Canon text to claim them for a fanon ship. I didn't provoke others online for shipping the Canon ship(now if they came for me or my friends it's on but I didn't go into random posts or ask boxes spewing negative. Calling them worthless or far worse because of it.) Anyway, I don't understand why E/riels can't just be satisfied in their own little fanon world. And leave everyone alone.

Lucien isn't a creep. He is kind and very respectful towards Elain. Three. He's given her three years and will continue to give her whatever time she needs to come to terms with bond. He'd never resort to some dumbass duel, cry like a selfish toddler that he's left out, or please himself to a fucking bottle of headache pills. Thats because he values. She means something to him. Even if they broke the bond, he would always be there for Elain. Unlike a certain bat boy who only wants her as a forbidden booty call.

Now that, that's out of the way. Let's talk about this Fandom. I'll be the first to say babes. Alot of this Fandom is toxic. And not just the E/riels. I've seen it from anti sjm, to anti/pro certain ships and characters. Tbh, if I wasn't apart of Star Wars or the HP Fandom. Shipping both Reylo and Dramione....I probably would have left this one.

I understand if you decide to leave this Fandom or take a step back (sometimes it's a good thing!).

However lovely anon. There's alot of us who do love acotar and although we know there's flaws in the characters and the books. We love it dearly. It's a special place in our hearts. You're Fandom experience is what you make of it. What I mean by that is simply if you wanna stay in the Fandom because the series itself do four things as often as you need too:

1. Block the tags

2. Block users

3. Unfollow those that make this experience negative.

4. Don't listen to E/riels (they've twisted so many narratives, have been consistently rude to artists and I believe well known bookstagram accounts too. Might add Vassa X Lucien shippers too. A few of them twist the narrative too in saying Lucien wants Vassa. When we were given those Jurian x Vassa moments. However, I've never had a bad experience with them personally)

Fandom should be fun, not stressful ❤

If you'd like a list of blogs in the Fandom who don't contribute to the negativity let me know. I'll try and get one for you. I hope if you choose to stay that your experience gets better. At the very least you'll have me ❤

#anti e/riel #Fandom wank #ask #answered #anon

[grain-my-beloved]

Honestly though I have seen a lot of takes that seem to really overstate/oversimplify Grian's negative- or perceived negative- personality traits and it feels very odd to me. Like, obligatory disclaimer that im new to the yhs fanbase and and as such don't know how old most of the fan content ive found on yhs is so if I ever mention character debate ive seen and y'all are like "I ain't seen anything like that recently???" It's cause I don't discriminate on new stuff, five year old stuff, or anything in between, mostly cause I don't know how old any post or whatever I stumble across is.

But like. I see Many posts implying Grian is rude, disrespectful, manipulative, vindictive, arrogant, and violent. And I don't *get* it.

I mean. Throughout yhs Grian is actually one of the characters most averse to violent or criminal action. His typical pattern of behaviour actually consists of Grian trying to completely avoid involvement in wild dangerous activities and objecting immediately both on logical and moral grounds, giving in only under outside pushing and often threat of serious harm to himself. And, well, duress is an actual legal defense in criminal cases that can get criminal charges cleared or reduced. "In criminal law, actions may sometimes be excused if the actor is able to establish a defense called duress. The defense can arise when there's a threat or actual use of physical force that drives the defendant—and would've driven a reasonable person—to commit a crime. A classic example is someone holding a gun to the defendant's head to force the defendant to break the law. Some courts use the term "coercion" or "compulsion" for this defense". Which is why it's immediately very odd to me for Grian to be assessed as just violent/criminal period as if that's an active part of his character. Most of the time when we see Grian commit a crime or physically harm someone he has reasonable cause to feel like he's in danger if he doesn't do so and would not take the same actions otherwise. Hell, legally speaking sometimes he's got an outright case for violencd self defense even beyond the cases for duress. Some examples of times Grian was involved in criminal activity include cases of robbery under duress, shooting in self defense, that kind of thing. This is a young highschooler with very minimum history of wrongdoing before getting stranded in a seriously abusive relationship in an incredibly crime heavy city and getting pulled into a string of crimes pretty much all with potential coercion/self-defense defenses built in. Literally everything about Grian's situation- from his age to his decently clean criminal history to the abuse he was suffering at the time to the use of threats/attacks against him to convince him to commit any crimes he was involved with- are likely to be a point in his favour on a legal standpoint and certainly should be notable when it comes to moral judgement. Quite frankly there aren't many characters in the series that id feel individually safer around because independently inciting violent encounters just isn't something he typically does. And having the survival instincts to bend under serious threat just isn't the same as being a violent person in your own right and saying Grian's just a violent or criminal person overall feels really weirdly oversimplified.

And beyond that is the idea that Grian's arrogant/disrespectful/manipulative/rude/vindictive. Which just feels out of pocket honestly. Grian can have a cynical streak, but that usually manifests in calling out genuinely inane bs or like...insulting his abuser(s). Stuff like being touchy and annoyed about their teachers not teaching them anything or calling Sam "literally the worst person who's ever lived" or making snide comments about how fucking insane Yuki is or similarly pretty justified grievances. Grian plays into the trope of the Only Sane Man, which, ive quoted this in the past but imma do it again, here's a quote from yhe tv tropes page on the Only Sane Man. "Alice is a Psycho for Hire, Bob is a Cloudcuckoolander, Henry is an Empty Shell, Charlotte is a Chaotic Stupid prankster, Daniel is the Annoying Younger Sibling, Emily is a Jerk with a Heart of Jerk, Maria Rhymes on a Dime, Franklin is a Mad Scientist, and Gardenia is a Holier Than Thou Lawful Stupid. Looks like your standard Dysfunction Junction. But then you have Isaac. Isaac is actually a very well-adjusted individual. He reacts with appropriate horror to things like Alice's finger collection or Franklin's experiments to revive the dead with science, and the crimes against nature that Gardenia calls pets. Isaac is the Only sane Man and The Only Voice Of Reason in the room". That's what Grian is. Pretty consistently. Grian's the guy that calls out the cruelty and incompetence and stupidity of the other characters because their general community is fucking *insane* and nobody else seems interested in questioning it. Grian isn't wrong about these observations though and it can't even be a case of "you're not wrong you're just an asshole" because he's not calling out harmless silly stuff, he's usually calling out shit like police corruption or the school neglecting their student's education or people consistently forgiving/excusing his abuser or the frequent unnecessary violence and crime going on in the community generally? And when he's in a situation where he's engaging with a kind or reasonable person Grian is actually typically prone to being polite and level headed in return. He's not typically, like, talking down to innocent people for harmless quirks/choices, he just shows a level of dismay and frustration towards the constant awful shit going on around him and in his interactions with people who are behaving like normal functional human beings he tends to have a pretty decent head on his shoulders?

Like. Grian isn't always in the right 100% of the time with no flaws and no incidents in which he's done something wrong. But he's definitely not some arrogant violent unempathetic prick who loves getting into fights and mocking undeserving people. The latter of which ive actually seen implied (maybe not quite as intensely/directly but ive certainly seen the words arrogant, violent, manipulative, unempathetic, disrespectful, and rude ascribed to him as general personality traits he has which just isn't accurate) way too many times for comfort.

#yhs #yandere highschool #yhs grian #to be fair a lot of the times ive seen this take its been paired with attempts to defend how sam didnt blatantly abuse the heck out of grian #which makes sense i suppose cause what better way to defend sam not being abusive than to make his victim look like the real villain #or at least like just as much of a villain

[haifengg]

A = Affection (How affectionate are they with a s/o?) Hendery is pretty much the guy for a classic friends to lovers trope so I guess the way he shows affection in pblic would be pretty lowkey. Like quick sweet pecks when no-one is paying attention. At home he would be quite cuddly, chilling with you and your pet maybe is his favorite thing.

B = Breath (What could their s/o do to take their breath away?) When he saw you at your friends wedding he was glued to the spot staring at you. Seing you in a proper dress for the first time -  it was over for him.

C = Cuddling (Do they cuddle? If they do, how and when do they cuddle?) Huge cuddler. All the time.

D = Dream (What do they dream of doing with their s/o?) I think his main goal with you is staying together being happy, wihtout having to do huge huge sacrifices. He wants you both to be happy with each other and that’s his top priority. As far as his dream goes would probably be to start a family with you if your lifes have room for it. Otherwise he will stay together with you either way - married or not. E = Effort (How much effort do they put into a relationship?) A lot. As I said having a fulfilled relationship is super important to him so he would try to be home early and take time for date nights and everything. He would get the food and make up for the time he can’t be with you because of work.

F = Fear (What do they do if their s/o is scared? How do they handle it?) Maybe he would be a little bit overwhelmed if you for example have a panic attack or soemthing. Because he is the youngest sibling he is not used to take care of others - he was the one other took care of usually. Regardless of that he would try his best, asking you what you need and not be mad at you if you maybe yell at him or something because you’re stressed. Eventually he would hold you tight either way and maybe watch a TV show to distract you or take you for a walk with an arm around your shoulders. G = Gifts (What type of gifts do they give their s/o? Do they want a gift in return?) He would love to get self-made gifts from you. If you crotched a keyring thing for him he would worhsip it and use it for years. The letter you wrote him the year you were away for new years? It’s framed in his studio. Same thing goes for giving presents. Altough the guys maybe talk him into buying you something he would always make sure to give it a personal touch. Maybe Ten helps him decorate sneakers he got for? Or he’d get you the first copy of your favorite books but put a foldeed heart in between the pages as a bookmark.H = Hugs (Do they hug their s/o? How often?) He would hug you when you’re cooking or doing the dishes, give you a little smoosh on the head when he walks past you and you’re sitting somewhere studying. 

I = Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?) I don’t see any problems i this department so let’s not create any if there aren’t any~ J = Jealous (Do they get jealous? How do they act when jealous?) Hendery might a little jealous but not much. You were freinds before you started dating so he knows your male friends and he knows you still chose him over all of them ~~

K = Kiss (Are they a good kisser? Do they like to kiss? How often do they try to kiss you?) Lot’s and lot’s of soft make out sessions. He is not a greedy kisser. This man has a goofy soft personality and it shows! 

L = Love (When do they say they love you? How often do they say it? Do they prefer to say or show it?) He strikes me as the kind of guy who leaves it to nonverbal communication. Hendery shows it more than saying it with small gestures like nose boops or he blows in your neck a little bit when you’re watching a movie. He also maybe pulls you in and whispers soemthing sweet into your ear but I don’t think it would be exactly ‘I love you’. 

M = Marriage (Do they want to get married? If so, what kind of ceremony?) Hendery definitely wants to get married. He doesn’t nessecarily wants everyone to know you’re his but he wants you to know how much heh loves you and that he wants to be with you until the very last day. He only has eyes for you and you know you only see him. It’s not about the others, it’s about you guys. And about his sisters and his mother they would end him if they don’t get a wedding picture with their only son/brother.

N = Night out (What type of dates do they like to go on? How often do they like to go on them?) Having a busy schedule he will make room for dates whenever he can. You would be the person waiting for him at his work place to be over with his shift to surprise him and take him out to cheap cozy pubs or your favorite streetfood places. Especially in winter when your breath condences and your noses are all red, you would get some hot snack and stroll through the streets and just enjoy each others company. O = Out of the Ordinary (What’s something they don’t normally do with/for their s/o?) You guys would seldomly go somewhere expensive or dress fancy/ got clubbing. The two of you can get excited and party but clubs just aren’t your thing. P =Playful （Are they playful in a relationship?) I suppose Hendery Is quite playful! He turns small daily things into a challenge even though he is not the most competitive person. He is the kind of person give playful cute little pecks or teasing you in a lot of harmless, non-suggesting ways. Q = Questions(Do they ask their s/o their opinion on things? Do they share theirs?) You guys car about each others opinions because it’s important for you what the other think but he wouldn’t change his desicions because you think differently abotu something. R = Random (How spontaneous is their relationship? Do they do things on the spot or plan ahead?) Hendery is pretty spontaneous. He would sometimes pop into the bathroom when you’re already brushing your teeth asking you if you will go to a movie with him. Ofc you will! S = Sleep (How do they sleep with their s/o?) Actually I can see him as both the big and the little spoon. Both have their benefits, it depends on the day really. T = Trust (How much do they trust their s/o?) 200% He introduced you two his mother and sisters. If he trusts you with that situation, he will trust you with anything else.

U = Unique (What makes them unique as a s/o?) Hendery is cheerful but in a very chill way. He will root for you and has this great quality of making you feel great about yourself. That’s what you love about him and why you fell for him. V = Vulnerable (How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o? What are they like in this state?) As mentioned before: You were friends before lovers. During the first half year of your friendship he held back on telling you his problems or letting you know when he fet down. During that time he usually met less with you when he was stressed or knew he wouldn’t be in a good mood, maybe ruin yours. W = Wild Card (Get a random domestic headcanon of the character of your choice) Every now and then you would find the time for a game night with some of the members. I am not talking board games but computer games! While everyone chills on discord you would sit in the same room or across the hallway. You usually played for the opposing team and every now and then you yell across the halway or physicially try keeping eachother from winning if their team is doing too well. X = X-Ray (What would they do if their s/o got injured?) During the first few seconds: Plain panic. But ones he sees it’s not that bad and you just hit your head on one of the cupboard doors he will get you a cooling pack and maybe laugh at you a little bit. “When will you stop hitting your head on the same door over and over?” Y = Yuck (Do they have any annoying/weird habits? Are there any habits that might bother their s/o?) Being chinese he loves drinking hot water. So far no problem but it always bothers you when you mix up your waterbottlesin the morning and you’re at college/work burning your lips on freaking hot water. Z = Zeal (Are they passionate as a s/o? Do they want or like passion?) Muted passion it’d say. He can get raunchy and everythign but alwas in a very subtle way. Of course he is down to switch it up if you want him to.

@kpopsnowball

@starrdustville

@jeonghanmoon

@himitsu-luna​

Masterlist

#wayv scenario #wayv scenarios #wayv imagines #wayv fluff #wayv boyfriend #wayv hendery #hendery #wayv kun #hendery boyfriend #wayv xiaojun #wayv ten #wayv lucas #wayv winwin

[sunnymusingsao3]

⭐ please mr director! release the morgwen cut....(where'd your headcanons for gwen come from, what are some challenges you have re: writing them)

Behind the Scenes: Fanfic Edition

Essay incoming! This one got long as well!

Oh bless you for asking me about this; she once was a true love of mine is one of my favorite things I've ever written, and I am always 110% ready to scream about the things that inspired it!

So the answer to your second question goes hand-in-hand with the answer to the first actually, so I'm gonna answer these out of order!

The biggest challenge with these two is mostly just how little we have in canon in regards to their relationship, background, history, and other such information that would typically be very helpful for writing a canon character-- or how two of them relate-- for a fanfic!

With Morgana, we have a little bit, but she's also not often allowed-- in the show, at least-- to be a character outside of being a villain for our heroes to fight, so one challenge with her is understanding what she does in her day-to-day life. What is she doing when she isn't advancing the plot via attempted fratricide, or directly opposing Merlin in some way? Since she can't possibly always be sitting in her tower rubbing her hands together maniacally (or pulling a BBC Merlin and smirking in full view of everyone who suspects her) I want to know what kinds of things she likes to do when she's not in court, or tackling the Big Themes Of The Show.

She's clearly moved on from lessons with Merlin, so she is not spending all her time studying-- though I do think she must be self-taught in shadow magic, so perhaps some days are spent on magic study-- and ToA is set before Morgana starts being a general-purpose villain to throw into your knight's tale (because as any medieval male writer will tell you, there is nothing scarier than a woman with power).

The way I see it, then, is that in order to establish this close friendship that Wizards says Guinevere and Morgana have, a good chunk of Morgana's time must be spent around Guinevere. And for a Guinevere who, in my headcanon, married Arthur for strategic reasons? For a Guinevere who's got a crush on Morgana the size of Arthur's ego? Spending that much time with her is bound to cause some good old fashioned yearning.

And this is where we get into my headcanons for Guinevere. As I said above, the biggest challenge is how little information we have about Guinevere. She's fallen victim to the Disposable Woman trope, and while I don't inherently fault ToA for that (they have plenty of other very strong and developed ladies), it does leave her with very little character beyond "she was Arthur's wife," and "she was Morgana's best friend." (Short sidenote: I really appreciate the Crusading Widower page on TV Tropes's site, for pointing out that the crusading widower is often an anti-hero or even an anti-villain because I think that's absolutely right when it comes to Arthur).

Anyway, all this to say, since there's so little canon, it's basically a perfect sandbox for fanfic writers to come in and have the time of their lives lol, so this is what I have done!

I am a huge Arthuriana nerd (though I am hardly an expert by any means; I'm just a simple fan who enjoys the stories) so when I saw Wizards utilize wildly famous Arthurian characters, I rather lost my mind over the potential.

I have so many headcanons about how to merge ToA and a bunch of Arthuriana plot points/tropes/characterizations, but for the purposes of this, I will stick to Guinevere!

The main way I went about making headcanons for ToA's Guinevere, was to look at what legends I knew about her and see what could apply to the Wizards canon, without contradicting it, in order to fill in these huge gaps.

For example, we know absolutely nothing about where Guinevere came from, so I kept her father and her home city from legend. Since her mother is not even mentioned in the legends, I also translated that over to an absence of her mother in the story, while also giving her at least a mention, as I think she'd be important to Guinevere, even if she hadn't really gotten to meet her properly. I really wanted this story to highlight the responsibilities that Guinevere has within her roles as wife and medieval royal woman, and I think having her consider what her mother would have done in her shoes tied into that theme of Guinevere wondering "what kind of woman do I want to become?" as she grew up. This is also why Igraine is given a moment in the fic as well; Guinevere's relationships with the women around her is something which I think deserves attention, even in a fic where I'm mostly just trying to establish a general timeline and characterization for Guinevere as a whole.

The idea for Guin's mother to have fallen in battle, in fact, came from ToA establishing that some of the background Camelot knights are men, and some are women, and it's treated as perfectly normal, as far as I noticed. Claire has that one line about a "boy's club," but I do think that it's actually just that she couldn't compete because she wasn't registered as a knight. I might be wrong about that, but I really liked the idea of there being knights in Camelot who are women, and I wanted to keep that in the fic I was writing. Therefore, I think that Guinevere's mother was both a queen and a knight, or, at least, a skilled warrior. Similarly, I also think that Guinevere's father is most known for his relationship with the Pendragons in legend. This then translated to her father being the diplomat, to tie in with her mother being the fighter. I didn't dwell too much on that because, again, the fic was meant to focus on Guinevere, and it had already gotten longer than I'd meant for it to. But, I tried to give a hint at that in the way that Guinevere's father is the one who physically takes Guin's bow, and puts a crown in her hands instead. He's not saying she can't be a fighter, but he is emphasizing that she also needs to be ready to appear in other kingdoms in a formal setting. I like to think that Leodegrance would have wanted Guinevere to have both options, to be a bit more well-rounded than he or her mother were.

Brief addition before I move on to the next phase of the fic: I chose a bow because when the stalkling advances on her, she tries using a stick to fight it off, but shows a bit of an ineptitude at using a weapon like that. Since I didn't want that to turn into "she's a weak royal who couldn't fight at all," especially since it seems to me that most of the time, being royal in the Middle Ages also meant receiving fight training, I chose for her to be better at ranged weapons, like bows, crossbows, maybe even spear throwing.

At any rate, my headcanons from there were created in a similar fashion to the ones mentioned above; I used a mixture of ToA canon (ex: Arthur, Morgana, and Guinevere being shown as childhood friends; Morgana and Guinevere spending time in the woods) and Arthuriana (ex: pulling the sword in the stone, losing it, getting it reforged by Nimue; Leodegrance bringing the round table as Guinevere's dowry; Merlin being a royal advisor).

Now, since this isn't much of a Morgwen cut just yet (so sorry omg), I wanted to skip ahead to the Morgwen pining moments, to talk about them!

The juxtaposition between a burning candle flame representing her love for Morgana, and an uncomfortable midnight cuddle from Arthur (where she can't even bring herself to scratch her nose-- an irritant meant to heighten that feeling of discomfort) representing her relationship with him, is one of my favorite ways to examine the wild difference in how Guinevere sees both relationships. One is untouchable but beautiful, interesting. It burns, and it's bright, and getting too near it hurts too bad.

And then on the other hand, one is there always, it's inescapable, but mostly sweet, though it comes up short of providing comfort. It's not bad, and it's even gentle, and Arthur does love her, but she married him for diplomacy. She married him because it's expected, and it keeps her safe.

(Which, sidenote: I think some stories work well with period-accurate homophobia, and others do not. This is one I would not have put period-accurate homophobia in, as it's fantasy and legend, and I think it's more interesting if Guinevere can't pick Morgana not because of Morgana also being a woman, but because Guinevere is bound by her duties as a royal).

The last thing I wanna talk about is that I have considered writing another Morgwen fic, but I'm just not sure what kind of plot hook or idea I'd like to pursue. So, if there's interest, or any requests that someone might have for these two, please do feel free to ask away! I think their relationship is really interesting, and I'd be delighted to keep writing for them. Guinevere is a fascinating character in particular, and is one who I think, even in legend, sometimes gets boiled down a lot, so I wanna add some depth back into her character, and give her a chance to shine!

Thank you so much for asking, and if there's anything else you're curious about, don't hesitate to send it my way! Like I said, I am always happy to holler about Guinevere and Morgwen! <3

#answered asks #sidhewrites

[king-finnigan]

14. Bodyguard, and 63. Everyone mistakes them for a couple, geraskier.

Okay, not gonna lie, this one was a bit harder to write a drabble for (mainly because I was torn between canon compliance and modern AU)

***

It had all started when one slightly deranged fan had broken into his house. 

Really, no biggie, he had told himself, when the cops had arrived. Sure, it had been a bit scary, but really, all the girl needed was some psychological help. She meant no harm. So, he had decided not to press charges.

Which had gotten him into a lot of trouble with his manager and dad, who had yelled at him that oh my god, are you stupid, Julian? You could’ve gotten hurt! She won’t be the last, mark my words! 

The conversation (if you could call it that) had ended with his dad resolutely telling him he was going to hire his son a live-in bodyguard who would be by his side 24/7. Jaskier had protested, a lot, really, because what the hell is he supposed to do with a stranger in his house? Who even invented live-in bodyguards? What the hell was that all about?

His dad hadn’t taken no for an answer.

Which had led all the way to now. As Jaskier walks off the stage, he is immediately flanked by said bodyguard, Geralt. 

“Good show,” the guy mutters under his breath, one hand softly pushing against the small of Jaskier’s back, the other stretched out to ward off fans that are getting a little too close to be comfortable.

Jaskier scoffs, when they finally reach the private area of the concert hall. “Don’t lie to me, I know you hate my music.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s a bad show.”

“Alright, alright,” he pushes himself away from Geralt, his back burning in the spot where his bodyguard’s hand had been mere seconds earlier, “that’s enough, you don’t need to guide me as if I’m some lady from the 40′s who’s about to faint, Christ, dude.”

Geralt shrugs. “Just doing my job.”

Jaskier sighs, as he pushes open the door to the side alley, where his driver is waiting for him. Of course, he knows it’s Geralt’s job to make sure he gets to where he needs to be safely, but he also can’t stand the way the guy always looms over him with his big hulking form in a way that makes blood rush to his face and other, much lower parts of his body.

He stops dead in his tracks, halfway between the door and the car. Shit. He’s bloody attracted to the guy. 

Great, way to keep it professional, Jaskier - he tells himself, as he shakes his head and sighs, opening the door of the car, sliding onto the back seat. Geralt, as always, sits next to him, the ride home quiet.

He looks out the window, watching as the lights of the city flit by, smiling as people bustle around the never empty streets of London. He spots the park where he and Geralt had once taken a stroll. His bodyguard had been forced to hold his hand as to make sure he stopped straying away from the path to give anyone who recognized him an autograph. He had also accidentally fallen into the fountain that same day, and Geralt had given him his jacket to make sure he didn’t catch a cold, and he had bought Jaskier icecream after to cheer him up.

He smiles at the memory.

Half a mile later, he sees the bar they had once gotten absolutely hammered in - at least Jaskier had. Geralt had just rolled his eyes, and had eventually picked Jaskier up, carrying him outside over his shoulder to make sure he didn’t give himself alcohol poisoning. He remembers how weirdly comfortable it had been, being carried by Geralt, and how he had whined like a puppy when his bodyguard had put him down.

When he sees the bakery they get bread at every morning, he knows they’ll be home soon.

Really, despite his initial resistance, it had been fairly easy getting used to Geralt’s presence in the house. The guy was a great cook, honestly, and though they had avoided each other at first, they had eventually fallen into a comfortable rhythm, eating all their meals together, watching a movie or tv show on the couch every night, chatting, laughing, getting to know each other.

And he would never admit it to his dad, Geralt, or anyone for that matter, but he’s not so sure he wants to live without Geralt anymore. 

Finally the car stops in front of his- their house- no, his house. There is not ‘their’, there is no ‘them’, it would be completely unprofessional, and Geralt is exactly the kind of guy who is anything but unprofessional. And of course, Jaskier is a bit of a wild child, he’s never going to settle down. 

So why does he feel a pang of disappointment shoot through him as he realizes he and Geralt could never be a thing? Since when does he even consider the possibility of them being a thing? Since when does he want that?

Oh god, he realizes, as he gets out of the car, walking to the front door, acutely aware of Geralt’s presence behind him, I’m in love.

Fuck.

He sighs again, opening the door, letting Geralt in before he closes and locks it again for the night. He honestly, more than anything, would love to take a shower to wash the sweat of the performance off, but his eye is caught by a bunch of magazines lying on the table next to the door. 

Huh. His dad must’ve delivered them earlier that day, judging by the folded note on top of the pile of magazines that reads: “Julian.” His dad is the only one who still calls him that.

He folds the note open, frowning at the single sentence that is written inside. “This needs to stop.”

He cocks his head, laying the note on the table again, picking up the first magazine. On the cover is a picture of him and Geralt, that day in the park. They’re holding hands, and Jaskier frowns at the giddy expression on his own face as he looks up at Geralt, who has a small smile on his face. “Pop sensation Jaskier finally settling down?” it reads next to the picture.

Wait. 

They think Jaskier and Geralt are a couple.

He shrugs, putting the magazine down again. What’s the harm of a few people spreading rumours around? Could be worse.

Except the next magazine has a picture fo him, from that night at the bar, hanging over Geralt’s shoulder, giving the camera a dopey grin. Then, right next to it, a picture of him leaning against Geralt’s arm, once again looking up at the man with an expression that could easily be interpreted as adoration. Once again, Geralt is smiling. 

“Night out with new boyfriend?” it says next to the pictures.

Oh, okay, maybe two magazines are spreading rumours, what’s the problem with that?

Except the pile is at least fifteen magazines thick and Jaskier has a growing suspicion that they all have the same sort of front page. 

His suspicions are confirmed when he looks through the pile. Every single cover is adorned with a picture of him and Geralt, walking hand in hand along the Thames at night, at the bakery a few blocks away picking out pastries together, of Jaskier leaning on Geralt’s shoulder, of them smiling and giving each other looks that could barely be interpreted as anything other than loving.

And each and every magazine thinks they are a couple.

Well, shit.

And what’s even worse is that he wants the rumours to be real. 

He looks up when he feels eyes boring into him, and spots Geralt, now only dressed in a shirt and sweatpants, leaning against the door to the living room, arms crossed. “What’s that?”

Jaskier smiles weakly, holding up one of the magazines for a second. “A lot of people seem to think we’re a couple.”

“Yeah, I’ve noticed that.”

Jaskier cocks his head, putting the magazine back down on the pile. “Then why didn’t you say something?”

Geralt shrugs. “I thought you knew and didn’t mention it because you didn’t want to make it uncomfortable.”

“Well, you’re right.” Jaskier looks down at the pile, eyes caught on the way he adoringly stares at Geralt in the picture, and the way his bodyguard smiles back, “not about me knowing, but...” he shrugs “I don’t want to make this uncomfortable.”

“This?”

“Whatever...” he points between the two of them “Whatever it is we have going on.”

Geralt sighs, pushing away from the doorframe, running a hand over his face. “I don’t think I can be your bodyguard anymore.”

Jaskier’s heart cracks in his chest, and he doesn’t even try to fight to keep the hurt from his voice. “What? Why not?”

Geralt walks forward a few steps, stopping a foot or so from Jaskier. He sighs again, avoiding eyecontact, hand scratching at the short stubble on his jaw. “Because I’m in love with you. Which is highly unprofessional. That’s why.”

And, by the gods, Jaskier could kick and kiss this man at the same time. But, he decides his feet aren’t exactly a match against Geralt and he would probably only end up hurting himself if he were to kick the guy, so instead, he moves forward, cradling Geralt’s face in his hands, kissing him.

After a short moment of hesitation, Geralt kisses back.

He pulls back after a few seconds, Geralt’s face still in his hands. “Hmm,” he mutters, “guess I’ll have to find a new live-in bodyguard.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Geralt says, pulling him in for another kiss.

***

Send me two tropes from this list and I’ll write a short drabble for them!

#squish answers #aj-that-person #drabble #ask game #geraskier #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #once again i'm physically unable to write something short

[worryinglyinnocent]

Camp NaNo Diary: Days Seventeen and Eighteen

So, I made the mistake of starting to watch Neon Genesis Evangelion with my bestie this weekend and my brain now resembles the Wild Mass Guessing page of a TV Tropes entry. 

Thankfully it has not given be any fanfic ideas. 

(Although my brain did say ‘Hey! Pst! Pst! You know some great semi-orphans with Mommy and Daddy issues who are exactly the right age to be EVA pilots!’ I shut that idea down. I do not need that kind of mindfuck in my life.)

Anyway, I got a lot of work done on Haven. Not as much as I was intending, but I still managed to get a few more chapters done. Unfortunately I have more half-finished chapters than I was expecting as it was way too hot to concentrate. 

Saturday’s Total: 3,007 Sunday’s Total: 2,246 Running Total: 32,670 Goal: 43,000 Last Lines Written Saturday:

It feels strange, having something there after months of just about getting used to there not being anything there. He knows that he has a long road of rehabilitation and learning how to use that hand again.

Last Lines Written Sunday:

“Hohenheim… You know that whatever’s going on, you’re not alone, right? I know that Basil’s weird and wonderful ideas to try and stop you being immortal are impractical at best, but we’re on your side when it comes to anything strange and alchemical that you have to do. We might not be able to do what you’re able to do, but you don’t have to handle it on your own.”

#Camp NaNo Diary #Worryingly Writes

[egoat]

disco elysium thoughts

he he

i think, overall, it’s great of course; not only is disco the rare example of really smart, leftist art, as well as the even rarer example of dense, literary-bent video game, but it has the greatest trait of media; an intensely detailed, practically overwrought with detail fictional universe that seems to sprawl outwards in every direction, the kind of thing you can get lost in. i’m very interested in this quality of worldbuilding - it’s the thing media now practically revolves around, the capacity of provoking imagination, fandom, interpretation, speculation. a great work can create a world that generates this sort of fascination from as little as two hours of movie runtime, like in the case of the people that became obsessed with having blue alien-sonas after watching avatar. disco has less of a hill to climb because a lot of its lore is pretty clearly spelled out in the over-a-million lines of dialogue it has to offer.

i think there’s sort of a problem here with the presentation, though. the world is, yes, gorgeous and mind-boggling and extremely interesting to speculate about, but i only came to that conclusion probably over halfway through the game. the setup of this suffers from a few things - primarily, the game lacks real focus. the major motif is of course the failed revolution in revachol and the aftermath of that. the game has some real material to cover in the union debacle, and it sort of gives the impression that the game might involve actually getting involved in and resolving the conflict between the union and wild pines, but then that turns out to be a feint and the investigation gets buried down different paths. then the game introduces you to the characters that only want to talk about race, which are amusing enough, but unfortunately unload so many lore terms on you that even the simple joke commentary is rendered indecipherable. the real stumbling block for me was the trope of “fantasy countries that are basically analogous to real countries” - revachol being france, mesque being mexico, etc - which is the sort of thing that always turns out to be so boring it instantly makes you tune out. except things are immediately more complicated than that - “mesque”, for instance, is mentioned as losing international favor as it turned sharply to the far-right, the events of the revolution which would seem to be analagous to the french revolution are actually far more analogous to the russian one and then, what is the state of this world, anyway? why are there certain features of modernity and not others? what’s with “radiocomputers”? once you get to tunneling down these strands, learning about the religion and ancient history and occult elements of the world, namely the “pale”, things come into far better focus and seem way more interesting.

the plot itself doesn’t have quite as much magic as the setting, unfortunately. perhaps it was just how my particular story worked out, but i didn’t end up getting nearly as much resolution out of the main mystery part of the game as i had hoped for, with two main characters disappearing from the map inconveniently before i had the chance to fill out the gaps in the noir timeline. ultimately, the way the actual mystery shakes out ends up being basically two deus ex machinas, which i feel is sort of flawed. a great mystery should give you enough clues to unravel it - and there are a lot of subtleties and second-glance sort of things in the building action of the story, just enough suspicion scattered carefully on the right characters, that it seems committed to this model, but at the very end, the game produces a character completely unconnected to the rest as if to hurriedly wrap things up (and then another character, right behind them, that you also never would have guessed, but that one’s quite a bit more funny, at least). ultimately, the noir aspect of the game doesn’t matter too much - it’s the overall tone, the flavor, the prose, the dialogue, and the side content that more than make up for it, but it ends up being a bit disappointing all the same.

i think this gameplay system, such as it is, is interesting, but leaves something to be desired. you’re running all these checks, and there’s a basic sort of rpg input-feedback logic to it, but i think the reality of play is that there’s no benefit to “builds” and no real method to the madness of these skill checks. by the end of the game, i had pretty much discovered that i wanted every of the 20 skills because there was no rhyme or reason as to which one you’d be tested on, and i would have to obsessively shuffle my clothes and available skill points and saves to pass the check to progress. it’s not too cumbersome, but given that it’s practically all there is to the gameplay, it could have used a bit of paring down and simplification, and probably could have taken randomization out of the equation completely.

the other ways the game “gamifies” the dialog tree are quite interesting in places. because you have to be actually concerned about the consequences of dialogue, it isn’t as simple as clearing out every option - there are real choices, which will have consequences on sometimes your health or morale meters or a check later on in the tree, which makes you be a lot more conscientious in engaging with how you talk to people. unfortunately, this made me very paranoid and avoid picking a lot of the joke options in the game, which are ever-present and sometimes very funny. probably the best example of this is the conversations with klaasje, which feature your skill checks contradicting each other, and you having to choose between them, rather than them giving you the right answer, or the set piece of the mercenaries, which is a bit obtuse, but fascinating in how many ways it can play out.

genuinely, though, it’s such a well-written piece of work, and i’d love for more from its creators. i saw in its wikipedia page tho that they had greenlit a tv show based on disco elysium, which, lol

#disco elysium

[novastarlyght]

That Time I Named an Invader Zim Background Character and Everyone Thought it was Canon: The Story of Ixane

Like a lot of others it seems, the premiere of Enter the Florpus has recently made me think back to my first stay in the Invader Zim fandom many years ago. For me it was between 2006 and 2007, and I was 14-15 at the time. IZ was and still is a very special cartoon to me, not only for how it influenced me creatively but also the fact being a part of its fandom was my first really positive experience in a fan community. And I wanna talk about that experience because it... lead to something very interesting. Something that only could’ve happened in the now bygone days of the early internet where reliable sources were harder to find and misinformation was much more common, but somehow, has lasted until today. 

This is how Ixane, a silent extra that appears only in the episode “Backseat Drivers from Beyond the Stars,” got her name.

So first off, you might be wondering “Who the heck is Ixane?” As I mentioned, she only appears as a background character in the 21st episode of the original series, titled “Backseat Drivers from Beyond the Stars” which I’ll abbreviate for the rest of this post as just Backseat Drivers. She’s a member of The Resisty, a resistance group against the Irken Empire who also only appear in that episode, although they were planned to become more significant recurring characters later down the line before the show was cancelled.

In 2006 I LOVED the Resisty. They were my favorite group of characters in the entire show, probably because I was fascinated by all their potential which sadly didn’t get the chance to be explored before IZ was canceled. What planets did each of them come from? What are each of their individual species like? How did they form into a single resistance group? What were their names, their personalities? Their hopes, dreams and fears?! THEIR FAVORITE DRINKS?!?! I attempted to provide my own answers to some of these not-so-burning-to-anyone-but-myself (or so I thought at the time...) questions by writing a fanfic called “Resisting Authority,” which I published on Fanfiction.net and later DeviantArt. It’s since been taken down on FFN while the DA version is currently in private storage on my old account, so here’s a screenshot just to prove it existed:

(click here for larger image)

Despite being more adult in tone than the show it was based on and rather melodramatic (then again, I was 14, and probably so was everyone else reading it), “Resisting Authority” became really, REALLY popular... at least for a fic that didn’t feature any of the show’s main characters, given it was entirely about the Resisty and told mostly from the perspective of its leader, Captain Lard Nar. Regardless it got a large amount of positive feedback and significant fan art on DeviantArt, most of which is no longer online although there’s still a little bit hanging around - mainly featuring Lyn, an Irken OC from the story who chooses to rebel against the empire and falls in love with Lard Nar, leading to a star crossed lovers conflict.

Because the purpose of the fic was to further explore the Resisty along with the idea of “What if an Irken betrayed their own?” several characters that appeared onscreen for only a couple of seconds in Backseat Drivers were fleshed out considerably in “Resisting Authority,” where they were given names, species names, home planet names, backstories, motivations and personalities. And of these the one who received by far the most development was a feminine, blue-eyed alien in a hooded purple cloak who I decided to name “Ixane.”

Ixane would become one of the most important characters in “Resisting Authority” right behind Lard Nar and Lyn. She is a Xanan from the planet Xana, a race of spiritual mystics. She is initially distrustful of Lyn, despite her actions and claims to be as much of a rebel as the rest of them, due to her hatred for the Irken Empire and how they destroyed her home. She believes Irkens are more like machines than living creatures, their bodies merely being empty shells to carry their PAKs around, making them incapable of genuine emotion. When she discovers Lyn and Lard Nar have been in a secret romantic relationship, she becomes even more hateful towards Lyn both due to jealousy, since she’d been harboring feelings for Lard Nar herself, and her genuine belief that Lyn’s feelings aren’t real, something that will only hurt Lard Nar in the end.

However throughout the course of the story her views are challenged and eventually Lyn manages to prove her wrong by displaying what she can’t deny is anything but legitimate love for Lard Nar and compassion for her allies in the Resisty. Unfortunately Lyn is fatally injured during a battle with a number of Irken soldiers sent to hunt down the rebellion. Now wanting nothing more than happiness for the person she loves, Ixane uses her mystical powers to save Lyn’s life while sacrificing her own in the process.

This character development (both in the meta sense and in the context of the fic itself) plus her selfless heroic sacrifice is what I think made Ixane one of the fic’s breakout characters and caused her to stick in the minds of those who read “Resisting Authority.” They were no longer thinking of her as just some extra, but as this fully developed character complete with an arc that I’d made her into - as the character of Ixane. But it didn’t occur to me just how big of an impact this may have truly had until about 9 years later.

In 2015, the official Invader Zim comic series by Oni Press began publication and I found myself extremely hyped about IZ again for the first time in almost a decade. It was during this time I came across a particular IZ wiki article and section of its TV Tropes page...

(Sources are here and here)

And I thought to myself “Wait... I thought I named her Ixane...?”

Because at this point I seriously couldn’t remember. I hadn’t thought about “Resisting Authority” in years, and with TV Tropes in particular noting that Ixane’s name was given “in the [episode] script” I wondered if I didn’t actually come up with the name. Maybe it was in the script for Backseat Drivers after all so I used it in the fic. Being unable to find said script (the original script as made by the episode’s writers, not a transcript) I couldn’t confirm it, so I mainly shrugged it off and thought more than likely I just had a bad memory. It wouldn’t be on a (still regularly maintained) wiki if it didn’t at least have a high possibility of being canon, right?

Cut to last night, August 2019. Me and all my other friends and fellow nerds who also grew up loving IZ are still buzzing over Enter the Florpus and our childhood/teenage fan content comes up in conversation. I dig up “Resisting Authority” from my old DA storage for perhaps a good laugh and a bit of nostalgia when more of when I first wrote it starts to come back to me. “I know the wikis all say her name was in the script, but I swear I came up with the name Ixane myself,” I thought, wondering if there was any way I could prove it.

Turns out I could. All the proof I needed was in a drawing of the character I posted to DA in January of 2007, which like the fic was still in storage:

(click here for larger image)

“Um...I bet a lot of people who read Resisting Authority got the impression she was an OC. She technically isn't. She is a Resisty character we saw VERY BRIEFLY once or twice in Backseat Drivers and I just elaborated on her for the story. The cloaked girl, yasee. Just look here: [link] “

That link no longer works normally, however putting it into Wayback Machine provides a snapshot taken in September of 2006, which would be around the time “Resisting Authority” was first published on FFN. Scrolling down on that page gives us...

(click here for larger image)

Additionally, opening the image itself reveals the filename “resistycloak.jpg” rather than something like “ixane.jpg” or “resistyixane.jpg”

For those who weren’t in the fandom back then, The Scary Monkey Show was a very well known IZ fansite and its Encyclopedias section was basically a resource for the show’s lore, one considered highly reliable, before things like fan wikis became commonplace. I actually used this site as a reference for the different types of Irken ships and other planets in the IZ universe brought up in the fanfic and so did many other fic writers at the time. If any site on the internet would know a minor or even background IZ character’s name, if it really was in the official episode script, it’d be The Scary Monkey Show. Yet her name is listed as unknown.

So why am I telling you this?

Because as wild as this whole situation is, I’m not a person who likes misinformation. I feel like IZ fans, both young and old, should know Ixane is not actually this character’s canon name as given to her by the writers of the show. That being said...

I see no reason to stop calling her Ixane. That’s just her name now.

Heck, it’d probably be difficult to go back to thinking of her as having no name given how long the name has been used on all these wiki pages and whatnot. And I’m completely fine with receiving absolutely zero credit for actually being the one who came up with the name in the first place, because here’s the thing...

I may have made the name, but it was the fandom that spread it. The IZ community, primarily in my absence too, were the ones who codified, legitimized it. Who added it to those wikis and accepted it as canon all these years. Who believed in it enough to assume it came from the official episode script, from the IZ crew themselves!

Ixane isn’t my name for her. It’s our name for her, as the fans who made Invader Zim the cult classic it is today.

And I want that to be something we all can have and be proud of ❤︎

#texts from last nova #invader zim #backseat drivers from beyond the stars #enter the florpus #the resisty #ixane #BIG ASS POST but hopefully somebody out there finds it interesting : 'D

[ofinkdried]

INTRO: MUN // TASK #001

hey all!! i’m slowly working on bios and pages and such but I wanted to introduce myself first -- so here’s what’s technically was the first task?? im using it as the template for my intro so HERE WE GO!!

PERSONAL INTRO

name  /  alias : victoria / tor gender  /  pronouns : cisfemale / she/her where  ya  from  ? : texas!! the  current  time :  4:29 pm height :  5′4 job  or  major :  unemployed at the moment, but I have a degree in health science/health administration & a national certification in phlebotomy pet  (  s  ) :  one doxie/beagle mix named Roxie favorite  thing  (  s  )  about  yourself :  my ability to remember song lyrics better than my own name any  special  talents  ? :  uhhhh I can play 4 ( 5? ) instruments why  you  joined  hqclouds :  FUNNY STORY care was talking to me about some Tea ( we’re in another rp together ) and she made a comment about running an rp and im a bit of a sleuth and found hqclouds and decided to join  meaning  behind  url :  it’s ‘ of clementines ’ because one of my favorite halsey songs is clementine and i’ve been on a halsey kick as of late  last  thing  you  googled :  ‘ fools troye sivan ’ because I wanted to send my friend the music video birthday  /  zodiac :  october 29th / scorpio in  your  opinion  ,  does  your  sign  suit  you  ? : some days myers  -  briggs :  I took it forever ago and don’t remember... ^^’ moral  alignment :  chaotic good hogwarts  house : ravenclaw!! three  fictional  character  (  s  )  you  see  yourself  in  +  why :  oh gosh.... katherine from newsies ( dedicated, doesn’t take a man’s shit), emma from the prom (nervous gay who plays guitar), and flynn rider from tangled (jokester, very in love with our girlfriends) i  started  roleplaying : 2012 I think? types  of  rps  i  enjoy :  definitely literate ones favorite  fcs  to  use :  I try to not reuse fcs a lot?? like I have some I prefer for certain characters, but I don’t have a strong draw to certain faces... fandom  (  s  )  you’d  like  to  write  in : musicals ( namely newsies ), fairy tail, the raven cycle fandom  (  s  )  you  aren’t  in  but  are  curious  about :  uhhhh I dont really know... share  a  funny  roleplay  horror  story :  oh gosh I dealt with one girl who like... constantly gaslit me as a player and my characters, would make me feel bad for not responding immediately, made everything about her characters, and then got mad when I called her out on it? and now she goes to a christian school and says that rp is ‘ the devil’s work ’ and I just... yeah. fondest  roleplay  memory :  I feel like the moment my now girlfriend and I realized we always do ships bc just had awesome chemistry and then started dating like, 4 months later. favorite  canon  muse  (  s  )  to  play : connor murphy ( deh ), gansey ( trc ), spot conlon ( newsies ), jimmy ( bandstand ), lucy heartfillia ( fairy tail ) favorite  original  muse  (  s  )  to  play : theo massard ( a boxer, jack barakat fc; had an AMAZING ship for him )  canon  ships  you  can’t  help  but  love :  CATRADORA. none of my other ships are technically canon : / trope  (  s  )  you  tend  to  be  guilty  of : tragic backstories, tough on the outside soft on the inside i  prefer  .  .  . angst  ,  smut  ,  or  fluff :  I wanna say fluff but I know care and megan will call me out bc I love angst more than anything long  or  short  replies :  mid-length pre  plotting  or  chemistry : chemistry leading to pre plotting! sentence  starters  or  headcanon  memes : both? I love discussing headcanons single  muse  or  multimuse  blogs :  multi!! gif  icons  ,  medium  gifs  ,  or  static  icons : typically gif icons, but lately ive been loving medium gifs grab  the  book  nearest  to  you  and  pull  a  quote  from  it : ok so I have no books atm bc im moving, but the first book on my phone is the dream thieves, and the line I see first is “ The Gray Man considered what it must’ve been like to live like that, always waiting for your door to be kicked in. ” what’s  a  quote  or  song  lyric  that  speaks  to  your  soul  ? : oh gosh, so many... “ I'm a walking travesty/But I'm smiling at everything ” ( therapy, all time low ), “ I imagine the tears in your eyes/The very first night I'll sleep without you ” ( roman holiday, halsey ), “ Am I the product of a problem that I couldn't change?/Got his eyes, got her hair/So do I get their mistakes? ” ( secondhand smoke, kelsea ballerini ) top  current  celebrity  crushes :  halsey, froy guiterrez, harry styles ( always ) last  movie  you  watched :  I think it was uhhhhhh miss americana on netflix? did  you  like  it  ? :  YES I loved it favorite  movie  (  s  )    of  all  time : 10 things I hate about you, newsies ( ’92 ) favorite  tv  show  (  s  )  of  all  time : she-ra, queer eye, fullmetal alchemist: brotherhood, gossip girl favorite  tv  show  that  hasn’t  ended : zoey’s extraordinary playlist favorite  series  of  books  /  novels  /  comics : the raven cycle, all for the game, the last song sports  team  (  s  )  you  rep : dallas cowboys, houston astros ( yeah I know about the scandal and I hate it, but they’re my team ), FAU owls ( my alma mater ) favorite  video  game  (  s  ) : breath of the wild, KH series favorite  youtube  channels : unus annus, daniel howell ( rip he hasn’t posted in a year ), the try guys, NPR Music, CrankGameplays ( ethans just a dork I dont even like gamer videos that much ) hobbies :  guitar, singing, being in zoom musicals ( im playing whatsername from american idiot for one in July and auditioned for a few others! ), reading what  are  the  three  non  essential  things  you’d  bring  to  a  deserted  island  ? : my guitar, my laptop, wifi put  your  music  on  shuffle.  what  six  songs  pop  up  ? : HOLD ME TIGHT OR DONT, fall out boy; I’m Still Here, John Rzeznik; Towers, Little Mix; Way Down Hadestown, hadestown obc; Stitches, state champs (cover); Look Back, betty who personal  aesthetic : nerdy punk?  dream  vacation  ? : disneyland paris or disneyland Singapore with my gf dream  job  ? :  music teacher dream  car  ? :  one that works at this point if  i  could  live  anywhere  ,  it’d  be : austin, texas ( im about an hour away rn ) favorite  musical : OH GOSH..... the prom, bandstand, newsies, hadestown favorite  food  (  s  ) :  blueberry pancakes, red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing coffee  order :  at starbucks? venti iced chai tea latte. at dunkin? large iced vanilla coffee. at home? french vanilla coffee and caramel macchiato creamer and 2 scoops of sugar.  unwatched  stuff  in  your  netflix  /  hulu  /  etc :  netflix: sex education, the umbrella academy, end of the f***ing world, the people vs. oj simpson. hulu: portrait of a lady on fire, my friend dahmer, rocketman what’s  a  subject  you  know  too  much  about  +  never  get  tired  of  talking  about  ? : I dunno? I have a ton of useless facts on a wide range of subjects. like did you know that in 100 letters, halsey says ‘ You wrote 100 letters just for me/And I find them in my closet in the pockets of my jeans/Now I'm constantly reminded of the time I was 19/Every single one's forgotten in a laundromat machine ’ and that’s actually autobiographical -- her bf at the time wrote a note and put it in a pocket of every pair of pants she owned, and she was still finding them months after the relationship ended, so she took all her pants to a laundromat and washed them so she wouldn’t have to see the letters anymore!!

#(( this got long im sorry asdkjfh )) #cloud:task #&&. 'im a hurricane.' || tor posts.

[ice-connoisseur]

ten faves

Rules: name ten favorite characters from ten different things (tv, movies, books, etc.)

This came from @thegirlwholied nearly...3 weeks...ago now, but I am slow, and indecisive, and time basically has no meaning at the moment anyway, so. 

1.       Sally Lockhart (the Sally Lockhart quartet)

First name I wrote down.  I met Sally in my early teens and I’ve never quite given up on wanting to grow up to be her. I love each and every member of Garland and Lockhart a ridiculous amount (and my love of the found family trope can probably be traced back to their door), but Sally, with her grit and her stubbornness and her fierce indepenance, captured me in something special from that moment in the first paragraph of the first book when all I knew was her name and that she was about to kill a man. 

2.       Elizabeth Bennet (Pride and Prejudice)

I considered shying away from the stereotypical here, but that would just be lying to myself as well as anyone else.  I relate more to Jane, or Charlotte Lucas, or even Mr Darcy – at least in terms of social awkwardness, not finances, sadly – but, like him, I can’t remember the first time I fell in love with Lizzy Bennet, I was in the middle of it before I even knew I had begun. 

(Jennifer Ehle probably had something to do with it though.)

3.       Hermione Granger (Harry Potter)

Look, I was an introverted, bookish, rule-abiding adolescent, and Hermione was suddenly someone I could recognise myself in.  I wanted to be Ginny (and Sally, and Lizzy, and several others on this list); I already was Hermione, in a lot of ways, and she made that a bit more ok.

4.      Carrot Ironfoundersson (Discworld)

I wanted to put a Discworld character in here, and I’m a little bit sad at myself for not picking a woman – especially since this is inadvertently turning out to be a very female-heavy list.  I even started the process of trying to choose between Sybil Ramkin, Tiffany Aching, Adora Belle Dearheart, and Angua, to name but a few.

But the thing is, I made the fatel error of first trying to read the Discworld in publication order, and it took me years to venture any further than the first 50 pages of Colour of Magic.  Even in later books the Wizards just.  Aren’t my thing.

And then, at some point – and I’m a bit hazy on the when, to be honest – I picked up Guards Guards and spent the entire book blinking at Carrot, reading and re-reading; I kept wanting to turn to someone else and nudge and point, because is this guy for real?! And then, again, a page later, for completely different reasons and in completely different tones, is this guy for real AGAIN?!  Terry Pratchett’s books are richly populated with wonderfully rounded, flawed, individual characters, and at first glance Carrot is comparatively straightforward. I hope I never lose that quiet moment of glee I feel at realising that, of course, he really, really isn’t. 

5.       Titty Walker (Swallows and Amazons)

Consider Titty a bit of a catch-all for the tomboy girls who filled my childhood reading – George Kirrin, Maia Fielding, Kit Russell and the rest – but she’s the one I thought of first.   I was not an adventurous child - I am not an adventurous adult, for that matter – but these were the books that meant I could be.  I think Titty’s adventures always felt the most tangible, somehow, and the image of her tacking up the field home to read her father’s telegram cemented something in me at an impressionable age that I don’t think I’ve ever quite shaken off.

6.       Leslie Knope (Parks and Recreation)

Again, I love each and every character on this show, but Leslie Knope; annoying, overbearing, forthright Leslie Knope, who cares so damn much about everything that she makes everyone else care more too, who never once considers being anyone other than who she is, who makes mistakes and faces up to fixing them, who will always, always use a favour to help other people…Leslie Knope, folks.  I love her and I like her. 

7.       Rose Tyler (Doctor Who)

It’s a pretty close call between Rose and Donna Noble, to be honest, but Rose got there first.   Unapologetically, unashamedly working class Rose, from the council estate, with no A-levels and no prospects and no expectations that anyone will ever give a damn about her, who saves the world in so many different ways, who grows up and laughs and loves and changes but never in the fundamentals of who she is – brilliant, compassionate, brave.   Her life is fantastic because she marches through it punching literal holes in the universe to make it so. 

8.       Lyra Silvertongue (His Dark Materials)

Lyra, who loved her world of Oxford rooftops, and ran from it.  Lyra who loved Roger, and killed him.  Lyra who loved Pan, and left him.  Lyra who loved Will, and lost him.  Lyra who lies.  Lyra who left home and came back different, and that was only just the start of her growing up. I’ve been reading Lyra for 20 years and I read her a little bit different every time, but I never love her any less.

9.       Phil Coulson (Marvel Cinematic Universe)

I’m probably stretching things a bit here, because when I say I love Phil Coulson, I’m referring to Phil Coulson of the MCU up to and including 2012, and the subsequent fanon interpretations of him.  I tried Agents of Shield early on and it didn’t stick.  But I saw Avengers Assemble in the cinema with no prior Marvel knowledge (comic or film) and spent the next three days watching the rest of Phase One (hilariously, at the time, five films felt like a lot).  I was in my very early days on Tumblr when #Coulsonlives was a thing, and I still remember the absolute explosion of joy that was.  Every now and again (like right now, actually) I go through a phase of re-reading an unhealthy volume of Clint/Coulson fic – and I do love Clint, and I love Gamora, I love Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff and Pepper Potts - and it’s dry, snarky, utterly unflappable who Coulson hooks me every time. 

10.       Georgiana Lestrade (The Least of All Possible Mistakes)

Look, I have a lot of feelings about every person on this list and quite a few who aren’t, but if I had to pick the one who felt the most…real, I suppose…then Georgiana Lestrade is my easy answer.  She’s the person I would always want fighting my corner.  George has no false ideals, no delusions about either herself or her world; she is completely grounded in herself and her London – which is almost a character in its own right, one of my very favourite things about Pru’s writing.

Competent, practical, fiercely unphased George, who carries a taser and throws stationary at her underlings; who is gloriously, unashamedly pragmatic; nearing forty and glad of it; as honest and self-aware of her own nature as I think a person can be; and above all else who is damn good at her job.  She might give one hoot about what other people think of her, but she’s certainly not going to waste a second.  That she is surrounded by wild, dangerously intelligent men is almost incidental, but she is, and that is a part of her story – though far from the whole of it - and she takes no more shit from them, never doubts her own right or ability to stand beside them, than she does any other person. 

One of the saddest truths of my fandom life is that Pru will never finish the Regency spy AU of this AU, and I mourn this far more often than is healthy XD

***

This was fun and hard in equal measure, and there are so many more I could have listed - Jack Robinson, Violet Baudelaire, Brienne of Tarth, Leia Organa, Theo Hart, to name but a few - but I’m as happy with it as I’ll ever be.

Tagging @firesign23, @kiraziwrites, @angel-deux-writes and @ajoblotofjunk, and also anyone else who wants to give this a go, because I would love to read more of them. 

#turned out I had a LOT of feelings about this #good meta is good #ask memes

[jaeausten]

My thoughts on Sanditon 1x06 (Beware, here be spoilers...)

Okay, up until now I have been watching Sanditon with mixed feelings, most of it positive, but Sundays episode left me screaming WTF at my tv.

In this house, Andrew Davies is a legend. His television adaptations of the classics has always let me soak into the world of Austen, Dickens etc and has been a welcome escape from the various shitty things in my life. He has been adapting books for tv series for decades and I thought that Sanditon was going to be full of the things I love about Jane Austen’s works and subsequent adaptations (wit, satire, self possessed, independent thinking heroines and intelligent, impeccably behaved heroes) with anything else left strictly to the imagination. Austen’s works have always had elegance and propriety to them (even when dealing with sex and ruin) that simply does not appear in this adaptation. There is such a sense of pandering to modern tastes in this episode of Sanditon that I cannot get past...or forgive. This is not an Austen adaptation and I am a little upset that Andrew Davies has interpreted Austen like this. People like Austen for all the subtlety and repressed sexual tension and although Jane did not write more than 11 chapters of Sanditon, surely Andrew has had enough experience dealing with this genre and original material to have written the rest of the story the way Jane might actually have intended.

Anyway, to the episode. I was literally jumping in my seat at the end of episode 1x05 when Charlotte set off on her plucky adventure to Set Things Right and help bring Georgiana home. But when this episode started, it soon became clear that Charlotte had arrived in London with only the flimsiest scrap of a plan and little to no money! (Note- In the rest of the series, Charlotte can be impulsive, but not stupid). Next, Charlotte is made to demonstrate another act of uncharacteristic stupidity by aimlessly wandering around the back streets and alleyways near the docks acting the fresh country girl ripe for the plucking. And of course, someone grabs her. She is rescued by Sidney, but this trope of stupid, naive country girl puts herself in a dangerous situation and has to be rescued by the hero pisses me off.

Oh, and Fyi costume designer, Charlotte should be wearing her hair up, UP, UUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPP!!! 

When Sidney tells Charlotte off in the carriage, I kind of thought that he had a point; reminding her that there can be other motives for marriage than love, but her looking shocked that this could be so surprises me as she has not previously written to be so naive. But, if you see it from her point of view, Otis rocked up looking dandy af a couple of episodes ago (I’m assuming that Charlotte thought that Otis might not need Georgiana’s money with that snazzy outfit on) and spouting romantic feelings and the telling of a genuinely funny first meeting with Georgiana made her think that it was for love and that it must be prejudice as his fortune has been made from slavery! Charlotte accuses Sidney of being less than forthcoming about his objections to Otis and he is pissed that his vague af explanation did not satisfy our independent thinking heroine. But as I see it, if you can be a first class asshole and scream into the heroine’s face while losing your temper in the street, you sure as hell can be explicit about why you ask someone to keep an extra eye on your ward. Just saying....

Also, Sidney’s behaviour throughout this series to Charlotte has been so far from an Austen hero and has made me dislike him so intensely that I have rooted for young Stringer as Charlotte’s eventual husband (though we all know that’s not going to happen, don’t we). An Austen hero never lets his anger show too strongly nor bellows at the heroine in the street. But apart from the story, good manners in that era and at that social level would prohibit any true gentleman from doing so. 

Andrew, if you are not going to follow Austen’s style, then place it in the proper confines of the period. Good fucking manners always prevail!!!!!!!!!

Taking Charlotte to a Brothel?!?!?!?!?!? Gently bred females do not get taken by an Austen hero to a brothel, Jesus Christ! Would this happen in reality? Not really! This scene seems to have been lifted out of the pages of a bodice ripper (not that I have any objection to bodice rippers- I frequently read and love them myself- but in an Austen? No, just no).

Charlotte preventing Sidney from beating the shit out of Otis for ruining Georgiana’s rep with a gentle plea while he reigns in his rage for her by focusing on her face, oh my heart... Still not Austen tho...

There’s finally a flash of the old sensible Charlotte when she figures out that Georgiana might still be held in London, whoops, I sneezed, back to the naive country girl trope that doesn’t fit. 

Ewwwww, the fat, misogynistic fucker making a joke about breaking in horses being similar to handling wives while drooling over a forcibly restrained woman just had to be in there didn’t it?  

It just bugs me why Clara, Edward and Esther don’t seem to take Lady Denham seriously when she has said repeatedly thought the entire series so far that none of them will benefit monetarily from her death, yet when the will is eventually found, Clara and Edward are outraged when nothing is left to them?

I can’t decide if Charlotte is still the annoying country girl from the beginning of the episode or the plucky heroine determined to find out the truth when she refuses to stay in the carriage when Sidney goes into the brothel where he is clearly a regular member...

‘You haven’t made an honest man of our Mr Parker, have you?’ 

‘GrAcIOuS NOOOO!’

Sidney’s face. One second of pained outrage. Classic!

Ooooohhhhhhh, a dramatic carriage chase. Area man in a cravat leaping to another carriage to bring the horses to a halt and rescue a girl. Melodrama meets western...

Oh look, Clara has found the hidden will and taken the time to put on a new dress and villain smirk of crazed triumph. Fuck off luv!

Oh. My. God.

Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jumping each other and having grunting, rough af sex on the cold marble floor to seal their devils deal? Um, ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!

This is the most unAusten disgrace of the entire episode. This is what almost made me turn off the tv, but I wanted to see what else happened in the episode, so I put it on mute and glanced through my fingers occasionally. Wtf, Andrew Davies! You are so much better than this! Your experience and Austen lovers could have done without a gratuitous sex scene. Not only was it uncharacteristic in a work claiming to be based on an Austen, but it was jarring with the melodrama of the rest of the episode and quite clumsy in it’s execution. It took me completely off guard and tbh, it was fucking gross.

Here that? It’s poor Jane Austen, spinning in her grave...

Georgiana is restored to the bosom of her cold hearted guardian. Or is he? Finally, a Austenian trope! Thank fuck! Misunderstood asshole who can be capable of compassion and clearing an unworthy gentleman’s debts with his wealth to make the heroine realise he is not a complete dickhead? Can you guess which Austen hero I‘m referring to?

A manly heart to heart is in order. This is a scene that would never be in an Austen as Jane never wrote a scene that she herself could not have experienced, but I’ll let that go if it means Sidney won’t stay a twat...

Oh dear Lord, Charlotte doubts herself because she feels she has disappointed Sidney. Heroine doubts her previous harsh judgement of the hero is so Austen, I both cheered and groaned. Yay Austen! Nay Charlotte having a bad opinion of her own instincts which have been written to appear to come out of her perceived sheltered lifestyle and naivety. On the one hand, she is written as knowing nothing much about real life and needs firm handling to avoid becoming a complete idiot, and yet she is also written to understand architecture and shows clear headedness when old Stringer breaks his leg. I’m having trouble with this pendulum swinging here!

Dear God, why is Charlotte’s hair all scruffy like that? Why is it still not UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I was rooting for Otis and Georgiana, but Otis proved himself kind of a douchebag. Georgiana realises that Otis is spouting bullshit when he says he only boasted of her beautiful soul to the gambling fucker, when in reality he had been dangling her and her fortune to appease a creditor. He seems sincere when he apologises though and it’s clear he does love her. But he wants to have his cake and eat it, so Georgiana out...

Oooh, that total sweetheart Babbington just showed up! I have to keep reminding myself that he isn’t Grenn from Got looking fit af in his regency gear. Rawr...

Why in the actual fuck is Charlotte refusing invitation to a London masquerade ball? Who does that? Sidney obviously expects her to be cheered right up by this and damn it, I do to! Georgiana is back safe and sound (almost) and Sanditon is about to be saved by the Regatta! She doesn’t feel sociable!? Her being sad by Sidney’s apparent bad opinion of her? Fuck that shit! Have some fucking self respect and get out there! A girl’s first visit to London on a mission (albeit in less than fun circumstances), friend is saved and you are invited to a big ass masquerade ball and you say no because of a man’s opinion?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Sidney spouts crap about underestimating her while looking sheepishly adorable and Charlotte agrees to go to the ball. Knew she wanted to really... But I don’t get Sidney’s sudden change of heart about Charlotte and as for underestimating her, what for? She bollocksed up everything, except for guessing that Georgiana was still held in London so they didn’t need to go off on a wild goose chase to Gretna Green. The episode up until that second has been Sidney treating her like she is a child who has made things unnecessarily difficult and not worthy of respect or a kind word. I don’t buy this. Sorry.

The ball!!!!!!!!

Poor Tom! No one gives a shit about the Regatta at the ball and one man even throws Tom’s card on the floor! Rude. Oh well, at least he looks da bomb in his burgundy silk ensemble.

Charlotte’s disappointed in the ball and wants to leave?!?!?!? Disappointed!?!?!? In a London ball! She’s only been there for five minutes and hasn’t done the obligatory sexually charged dance in a fabulous dress with the brooding hero yet! I know she is upset that they have left Georgiana at home and that’s fine, it shows that she has sensibilities and compassion for a friend, but come on! 

Why is she asking Sidney’s opinion to leave? Why is she putting herself down? Yes, Sidney’s behaviour has definitely led her to believe that she is too headstrong and opinionated, but I don’t think she’s too much. The way she has been written up until this episode has been what has made her interesting. Austen heroine’s do go through this in the last third of the story though.

Oh, now he thinks those things are cute. No wonder Charlotte is confused. I am.

Why in holy fuck is Charlotte telling absolutely everything to a total stranger?!?! I get that it is a human thing to want to pour out your heart and problems to someone who can take a step back and see things from a different perspective, but Austen heroine’s keep their fucking counsel! Also, in the time period at that level of society, spilling your secrets to a stranger opens everyone involved up to potential scandal. Good fucking God. This is not even reality at this point!

Charlotte in love with Sidney? Surely not Queen Susan. It’s glaring that Charlotte does love Sidney at this point. Treat them mean, make them fall in love with you, I guess.

Ooooh, the smoulder! Fuck, it’s even working on me!

Jesus Christ, this dance has everything. Not taking their soft eyes off of each others, gradually getting more intense as the dance goes on. Tender brushings of hands. The waltz with his head bent to hers with while being a bit too close for proprieties sake. The way they move in perfect harmony in a way that has not been in evidence in their interactions before. Lingering touches when they have to part in the dance. Taut sexual tension dripping from every step. Both suddenly grinning their arses off when the dance gets faster. The slow-mo shot showing them falling deeper into love. Ending the dance in extreme reluctance as it means they cannot be close in front of everyone anymore while looking stunned by their feelings. Divine! 

Uh oh. Enter old flame. Why did you have to spoil it Andrew?

I know that’s Theo’s actual real life wife, but there was no chemistry that I could see. I could go and get my binoculars. Eliza Campion, I know you won’t prevail, but please step it up for the next episode cos you haven’t convinced me yet.

Charlotte is happy and glowing with her new found awakening. I hope it will last. Of course not...

If you have managed to read to the end of this, well done! I certainly wouldn’t have! As you can see, most of this post has dealt with my feelings of incredulity at the way this episode has turned out. Don’t get me wrong, I really do like Sanditon, but Sunday’s episode has left me shaking my head in confusion. Andrew Davies work has always been top notch, but I wonder if the absence of full original source material has left him unable to write the fully realised characters of the Austen novels that we have come to expect. But injecting melodrama and bizarre about turns in terms of characters and their characterisation while introducing unnecessary scenes (you know the one I mean) has left this episode severely disjointed for me.

#sanditon #sanditon spoilers #spoilers #musings of michelle #long post #rambling