#[ oof i just saw a post-- and i'll admit to it. but man it made the salt grate in my veins. ]

[iniziare]

/breathes in real deeply. I'm trying to sit on my hands, and I managed to sit on only one for the time being, but even that'll falter as I get tired. Ladies and gents, please hear me: Dorian Pavus was born in 9:11 Dragon, Veilguard takes place in 9:53 Dragon, that places him at the age of 42 years old. I will not, I absolutely will not stand to see people infantalize him in any way whatsoever, be that jokingly or not. Dorian Pavus' entire backstory up until his 'departure' from Tevinter, is ripe, and I mean absolutely dripping with everything starting from lack of agency, to a planned violation of self-autonomy at the hands of his father, and constant 'infantilization' by his mother; I will not see it continued. Have a little respect for a character (and his struggles) that meant, and mean, a great deal to not just his creator, but to many fans who are part of a community that hasn't had a character that hits this close to home.

And as a little addendum here: Necromancy is a specialization, which is not taught before anything else, and thus not at a young age. When you go to learn, or refine your use of magic, you first work on your basics, your chosen school of magic. The school of Power, consisting of Spirit, and Primal; or the school of Matter, which is sub-categorized by Entropy, and Creation. This takes up a substantial amount of your formative years as of potentially a child, until adulthood (if we loosely take the Circle's ages as reference). The specializations are not an addition pursued by all mages, and if one is pursued, they come after the basics, which means that no young child/teenager is dabbling in Necromancy, Rift Magic, Spirit Healing, the ancient art of Knight-Enchanters or anything similar. With which I aim to say that Dorian Pavus was not a teenager when he started his specialization into Necromancy, nor was he likely under the age of 20 when taught for one term by Emmrich Volkarin in Nevarra. Do not use that man to infantalize Dorian Pavus, do not use that man as an adoptive father figure, do not call Dorian your 'son', do not— Oooh, I feel strongly about this topic. It's so easy to preach respect, but it's so selectively applied in practice, and it bothers me greatly.

[burr-ell]

Honestly, imodna would be a good ship if the shippers/stans weren’t so damn insufferable. I also hate how they act like they are already canon and you can’t ship Imogen or Laudna with anyone else in the group. People got so mad when the conversation in the dust storm happened with Ashton and Laudna because people thought they were flirting. Or when on the first episode of 4 sided dive Marisha asked Robbie if Dorian’s crush was on Imogen, people got so mad at that! I also hate that they call them lesbians when THEY HAVE BOTH EXPRESSED HAVING FEELINGS FOR BOYS! Why can’t they be bi? Or Pan? I also hate how people read into Laura���s micro expressions/ movements, like last episode with the whole leaning shit “oh what was that lean Laura?!! Imogen wanted to kiss Laudna because look at Laura’s lean!” I dread the day that Imogen or Laudna fall in love with someone that’s not each other(especially if that person is a man.) because Marisha and Laura will harassed and hated because they didn’t give the people what they wanted.

oof. that's some frustration you really needed to vent, nonnie, and honestly i get it. full disclosure—my mutuals who are into imo/dna are all lovely, and none of them engage in this behavior. if imo/dna becomes canon, i'll be happy for (and potentially even happy with) fans like that. but enough shippers are doing things like this that it's becoming more and more of a source of frustration and friction as the campaign goes on.

i think a lot of fandom—in general, not just cr—still doesn't want to acknowledge that at the end of the day, they are looking at things like shippers, with a particular kind of confirmation bias. it doesn't make them necessarily wrong or right, but as easy as it can be to get swept up in it, i think it's important to take a step back every once in awhile and re-evaluate.

now admittedly, generally speaking, it takes a lot for me to get really invested in a ship; i usually only have one or two per fandom, even fandoms with tons of characters. i'm generally pretty passive about most ships if it's not the otp; like, vax/leth and pike/lan, for example, didn't need to be romantic endgame for me to enjoy CR1 (and honestly might have been more interesting to me if they hadn't), but perc/ahlia absolutely made the show for me and i honestly think them being together actively strengthens the narrative as a whole.

i say all that to say that for the most part, i very much consider myself to be along for the ride with respect to most relationships in most fandoms. if such-and-such pairing happens, great; if they don't, okay. and with CR in particular, it's such a long-form medium that i know going in that any romance is going to take a while, and most of them probably won't just reach out and grab me.

and as such, it absolutely baffles me to have seen shippers insisting, from the moment the characters first appeared in episode 1, that not only are imogen and laudna canon endgame, they're basically already together and just haven't admitted it yet. i feel this way about dor/ym and callow/moore as well—i saw a post making the rounds that claimed that all three of those ships are "not canon YET but let's be real" and like...why would you set yourself up for disappointment like that? because yeah! all three of those ships could be endgame! but they could also not be endgame. we're less than 40 episodes into a campaign that'll probably run well into the 100s.

i also fully agree with you re: the microexpressions and the cherrypicking, and i feel like a microcosm of this issue can be found in a conversation imogen has with orym early on—shippers latched onto the fact that imogen compares laudna's thoughts to music, something that finally brought her peace after the chaos of the world around her, and completely ignored the part immediately after where imogen says that the rest of the party also feels like that to her. i didn't even know that imogen said that about the whole party until i watched the episode, and to me it's an example of how shippers tend to warp canon interactions to suit a particular narrative in such a way that they become almost entirely divorced from their context.

and from the outside looking in, what confuses me about this sort of thing is like...didn't y'all already go through this? because if my understanding is correct, c2 ship discourse was full to the brim with beau/jes and wido/jest fans dissecting "laura's microexpressions" to prove that jester was for sure in love with our fave, really you guys we swear...and then not only was that not true, but jester also didn't even know about beau or caleb's feelings to acknowledge them at all, and from the actual words that came out of laura's mouth in various OOC moments like on TM, laura just...really really wanted to romance her husband's character in her dnd game and like, that's it. there was never going to be another romantic option for jester as long as fjord was on the table, and that was something that shippers always should have been taking into account.

laudna and imogen are canonically deeply important to each other. they love and appreciate each other very much. that love and appreciation could turn into a lovely romance with a great dynamic, and i certainly don't blame people for being invested in it. but it also could not be romantic endgame, and they remain friends or even get with other people. and as you said, fandom can and will turn nasty about their ships being sunk; we've already seen it happen. there's a certain smug, entitled undercurrent from that particular corner that i have very little patience with, and while i think there's something to be said for deciding to enjoy things in spite of the fandom and just be a cranky old curmudgeon shooing the wank out with a broom, i also understand the response of just "...aight, imma head out".

[inspired-by-the-music]

Ardently

Part One: First Impressions

Pairings: Kyungsoo x OC, Jongin x OC

Genre: enemies to lovers

Word Count: 2k

taglist: @jineunwootrash​

Note: (oof a long note, here we go) Here is the first chapter from a Kyungsoo fic I will be working on. This is based on Pride and Prejudice; it is set in present-day, in the K-Pop industry. I’m experimenting with writing in first person, and the main character is named Maisa. There will be a few original characters in this story, and I am very excited because this is the first time I will write a full-length fic for this blog that is not mostly a Social Media AU. I will likely not post the rest until I have finished the story just so I will have plenty of time to develop and edit my ideas without publishing plot holes, but I was just too excited about this idea to keep it all to myself. I realllllllly hope you like it! -Ash

I couldn’t remember the last time I saw Jongin. The many years we spent together as children didn’t prepare us to be separated for months at a time because of his busy schedules as an official S.M. Entertainment idol. Although he never failed to brighten my day through texts, phone calls, and FaceTimes, nothing compared to seeing his smile in person. 

Will Taemin be somewhere in this building? I wondered as I approached the S.M. building where Jongin asked to meet. Surely he’s here somewhere. SHINee has just finished a tour in Japan. 

I squirmed at the thought of Taemin, not because we had some kind of disagreement or because I was as starstruck as almost every other person in the world, but because I had been avoiding him for what now seems like a very childish reason. 

Taemin had ventured far beyond the poor town we— he, Jongin, and I— had been raised in, and his fame grew daily. I wasn’t jealous— not maliciously, anyway— but I felt that he and I were living in very different worlds, and I worried that if I spent too much time with him, he would realize it too. 

This fear would have threatened my friendship with Jongin, too, if he wasn’t so determined to honor our childhood promise to be best friends forever.

However, when he smiled warmly as he stepped through the glass doors and drew me into a tight embrace, my fear was quickly quelled and replaced with confidence that Jongin would remind grounded at my side no matter how high his talents dared him to soar. And I couldn’t decide if that made me feel relieved or guilty. 

“So where’s this little restaurant you’re so obsessed with?” I asked as he released me. 

Pointing across the street, he replied, “Just there.” And when I tried to follow his directions he grabbed me by arm and said, “But first— I’ve convinced one of the executives to meet with you!”

"What?" My jaw dropped.

How had I not seen through the lunch invitation that thinly veiled Jongin's thousandth attempt to coerce one of his bosses into giving me a job? I had likely forgotten about that goal of his since his efforts never succeded past a few uncomfortable phone calls where I stubbornly maintained that, "I don't want to owe you or Taemin." But now that he dragged me into the building, a conversation with some professional executive seemed inevitable. 

"Ew!" Jongin shrieked and dropped my hand as soon as the elevator doors closed behind him and effectively trapped me into his plan. "Your palms are really sweaty." While wiping his hands off on his jeans, he advised, "You should see a doctor about that."

I argued," Clammy palms are a natural response to sudden extreme stress!" Still, I blushed at his observation and tried to pass my colored cheeks off as a symptom of annoyance by asking, "How could you trick me into some kind of job interview? I was promised sushi!"

Jongin laughed, probably mistaking my authentic blossoming panic for theatrics. "Don't worry, Mai, you'll still get your sushi-- you'll just get a chance at your dream job first."

His natural optimism should have been some sort of comfort. Instead, I crossed my arms, pressed my back against the cold steel elevator door, and mumbled, "Don't be ridiculous, Jongin, nobody would hire some random girl off the streets to write songs-- especially not one of the big three."

Ever determined to disagree, Jongin grabbed my shoulders, looked me in the eyes, and  reminded me, "You're not just some random girl-- you're my best friend, you're insanely talented, and on the off chance that Mr. Lee doesn't see that, I'll get you a meeting with everyone in this industry until you're hired."

Maybe it wasn't the best pep talk in history, but I swear that Jongin's smile could inspire anyone to do just about anything, so I shamelessly followed him out of the elevator, holding my head high. I only faltered when he stopped abruptly and said, "Wait here. Let me make sure Mr. Lee isn't busy."

Instantly, my confidence evaporated. The hall was eerily silent except for the clicking of keyboards that escaped from the  few open office doors, so I quietly hissed, "You mean you don't even have an appointment?"

Jongin held a finger up to his lips. Perhaps sensing my screaming instinct to run, he repeated, "Wait here. I'll be right back." He tapped his knuckles against the sleek black door, just under a gold sign that read Soo-man Lee: CEO, and he winked at me before entering the room at Mr. Lee's beckoning. 

Suffice it to say that I wasted no time racing back to the elevator once Jongin was out of sight. It wasn't that I wanted to disappoint Jongin or seem ungrateful of his efforts, but meeting the CEO of S.M. Entertainment seemed like a giant leap rather than the first step toward my dream of composing music. The fact that I was unprepared and uninvited made the whole situation feel like a nightmare-- not at all like a dream come true. 

As my tennis shoes slapped against the marble floor, I decided that I could easily beg for Jongin's forgiveness, and he would kindly grant it, but I could never reclaim my pride after being rejected by S.M. I could never recover from the crushing determination that I wouldn't get to achieve my dreams alongside Jongin and Taemin. I preferred to keep telling myself "someday, someday soon," because then I would never have to face the absolute of "never--you aren't good enough."

When did I become so paralyzed by fear? My thoughts stunned me. I considered myself bold, unafraid to speak my mind, in all manners except the pursuit of my deepest dream. What good is it to be brave except when it really counts?

As I struggled to no avail to find an answer within myself, somebody rounded the corner at a sprint and collided with me. With what felt like a  thundering crash, I fell onto my back. My string of curses complimented that of whoever ran into me, but I was initially too dazed to glance at him. 

When I finally sat upright and glared at him, prepared to lecture him for failing to offer so much as an apology, I noticed that he was too busy gathering his scattered papers to even realize that he knocked me down. I was going to ask where he was going that was so important-- or if he had ever heard of a paperclip-- but I was shocked into silence when he looked at me over his glasses with eyes blown wide. 

I never imagined that I would meet Do Kyungsoo while running away from a job interview with the CEO of S.M. Entertainment that was set up by my best friend to help me achieve my dream. Actually, I never imagined that I would meet him at all, and I certainly never dreamed that he could be so rude as to ask, "Who are you looking at?"

Overwhelmed by an unprecedented blend of awe, embarrassment, and blind rage, I stuttered around an answer until he dismissively waved my babbling away. "Forget it. I don't have time for this."

Once I was away from him, I knew, I would think of a thousand ways to put him in his place. I wondered, what good is wit when it isn't quick when it counts? Quickly, I resolved to scramble to my feet and out of the building before matters could worsen. 

"Hey wait." 

I never would have admitted that my heart swelled with the rise of his voice because I assumed that he would apologize (for running into me and then for being so rude) and that I might be lucky enough to have one of those romantic first meetings that I learned about from Jane Austen and K-Dramas alike. 

But when I turned to face him, he stood tall, papers in hand, pushed the glasses further up the bridge of his nose, and ordered, "Bring me coffee and a cinnamon bagel from the kitchen; I'll be in Mr. Kim's office."

Had he not been staring right at me, I would have thought he was talking to somebody else.

Only when he turned around, started down the hallway, and freed me from his oppressive gaze did I find my voice. "No, I won't get your breakfast. First of all, it's well past noon, and second, I don't know where that is!"

Kyungsoo rounded again, his mouth slightly agape as if he assumed I was mute. His eyebrows knit together as he asked, "You don't know where the kitchen is? Or where Mr. Kim's office is?"

"Neither."

Unwilling to hear the explanation that this was my first (and likely only) time in the S.M. Building, and I wasn't here of my own choice, and-- above all-- I was not his servant, Kyungsoo demanded, "What good are you then? Does the help around here know anything these days?"

And just as I stormed toward him, dangerously close to succumbing to my temper's urging, Jongin appeared at Kyungsoo's side, locked eyes with me, and cheered, "There you are!"

Jongin would have had to be blind to miss how Kyungsoo and I glared at each other, each silently daring the other to say just one more word to justify our impending outburst. In what must have been an attempt to lighten the mood, he laughed, "I should have known you would run off to catch a glimpse of your bias."

I opened my mouth to rob Kyungsoo of the flattery by telling Jongin that I officially decided to change biases, but I was interrupted by Kyungsoo asking, "So you know this girl?"

Jongin joyfully thew an arm around my shoulders and, contrasting greatly against Kyungsoo's disgusted, disbelieving tone, cheerfully declared, "Oh yeah! Maisa has been my best friend forever. And you should get used to her, D.O., because she's gonna be the best songwriter in S.M.'s history!"

Jongin's boasting about me was never quite as humiliating as right then, when Kyungsoo simply rose his eyebrows and questioned, "She will?"

Don't misunderstand-- I wasn't offended because I was oozing with self-confidence or because I was so convinced that I was destined to be some composing legend. In fact, I had absolutely no confidence that Jongin's last-minute surprise interview would work to my advantage in the slightest. Had he not offended me from the moment our eyes met, I would have agreed that Kyungsoo's skepticism was supported by all rationality, but given the events of those past five minutes, I literally bit my tongue to keep from snapping at him for Jongin's sake. 

Without missing a beat, Jongin answered, "Definitely," and steered me back to Mr. Lee's office before I could bite through my tongue or say anything regrettable. 

Once I regained control of my thoughts, I started, "What a-- a--"

But I struggled to fathom an insult becoming of Kyungsoo. Finally, I settled on screaming, "Douche canoe!" with no concern for whether Kyungsoo, Soo-man Lee, or anyone else in the building heard. 

Jongin must have expected a tantrum, because he merely blinked and warned, "You shouldn't let Kyungsoo under your skin." He leaned against the wall beside the CEO's door, tried to nudge me out of my frustration, and claimed, "Seriously, Mai, he's just not one for first impressions--"

Although unamused, I laughed. "That has to be the biggest understatement ever. He isn't even half as pleasant as the most disagreeable character he's ever played--"

"Maisa!" Jongin interrupted. I only closed my mouth when I noticed his protruding pout. "We'll talk about Kyungsoo later because I know you're not gonna get over it any time soon. But for now, get in there and convince Mr. Lee that you belong in an office brainstorming lyrics, not locked away in the kitchens!"

I barely managed to quizzically repeat, "The kitchens?" before being shoved into the office.