#I’m just casually writing about the same two people doing it in various different scenarios

[tswaney17]

Do you ever fear that unregulated capitalism causes democratic institutions to deteriorate into oligopoly, imperialism exasperating support of counter revolutionary wars and various forms of economic and cultural exploitation?

Sir/ma’am, I write fairy porn. I think you’re in the wrong inbox. 😂

[fuckyeahisawthat]

I'm just curious (still learning) at what point after 1100 AD would Joe and Nicky been in actual danger due to homophobia? At what point would they have to start lying to people about the nature of their amazing relationship, just to stay safe? Thanks!

(This is in reference to this post, in which I skimmed over like 900 years of sociological changes in identity formation in very very broad strokes.)

So. Here’s the thing. As “western” queer people in the modern world, I think we highly associate safety with being able to be out of the closet. Can I kiss my partner in public or walk down the street holding hands without fear of encountering hate speech or physical violence? Can I tell my friends, family and coworkers about my relationship without fear of social ostracization or economic consequences?

But that’s a very modern perspective. Between “pride parade!!” and “we will definitely be murdered if anyone finds out we are lovers,” there is...A LOT of space for different kinds of historical queer experience.

So it’s not so much that Yusuf and Nicolò could be safely “out of the closet” in 12th century Baghdad but not in 19th century London. It’s not quite as far from that as you might think. But they wouldn’t have thought about it that way.

In the first few hundred years of their existence, the Islamic world was...full of contradictions when it came to homosexuality. You had a strong taboo against adult men being the receptive partner in penetrative sex, but you also had poets--like, the most famous poets of their times--writing tons of homoerotic poetry about desiring young men and boys, and that was normal and even celebrated. (If you’re familiar with the sexual mores of ancient Greece...lots of similarities here.) You had clerics writing about how there should be harsh punishments for “sodomy,” but in practice in everyday life very, very few people were ever actually disciplined in the legal system for something like that. And other forms of sexual activity between men, like kissing and various forms of non-penetrative sex, were just...not a big deal. At the same time there was kind of an unspoken “don’t ask, don’t tell” social contract around sex between men. Like, we know this thing is definitely happening, and we’re not going to talk about it, and that’s what makes it socially acceptable to continue happening. So you can have a society that in the written, religious record looks fairly intolerant toward sex between men; in practice is actually quite tolerant; where everyone sort of knows things about certain people, but where no one is really “out” in the modern sense of the terms.

At the same time, pretty much everywhere in the world at this time but definitely in the Middle East, casual touch between men was much more normalized. Two men holding hands or linking arms when walking down the street, sitting pressed up next to each other, falling asleep with your head on your male companion’s shoulder...a whole range of things that look decidedly snuggly to our modern gaze would have been totally acceptable between friends of the same gender, and would not have been considered sexual in any way. (This is still true in much of the Middle East today.)

So you can easily imagine a scenario where, like, Nicolò is lounging with his head on Yusuf’s shoulder, eating dates and listening to some saucy Abu Nuwas poem being recited, and then they go back to their private quarters and they have as much sex as they want. Are they “out”? Not really. Is anyone bothering them about how they’re living their lives? Not in the slightest. Do some people in that room see them and know? Probably, but that’s their private business and we’re not gonna talk about it. Frankly that sounds like a pretty sweet existence for a 12th century queer.

To be fair, they have a few advantages. They’re men, which means no one will really question them traveling together, without wives or families. They can easily say they’re friends or business partners and no one will really give it a second thought. I’m sure having to break off contact with their families was sad, but it’s also the case that there’s no one around asking when they’re going to get married to a woman and have children so we have someone to inherit the family business. It gives them a kind of freedom that a lot of other queer people around them wouldn’t have had.

I think once they meet up with Andy and Quynh, they do do things like pretending to be two married couples traveling together. But that’s more because of sexism, because two unmarried women traveling with two men who were not their husbands would turn some heads.

In Europe at the time, Christian theology is pretty not-into all kinds of non-procreative sex, but sex between men is not necessarily viewed as a worse sin than, say, masturbation, or sex between men and women out of wedlock. And it’s like, a category of sin that a lot of people are doing all the time, so if you were to confess such a thing to your local priest, you would be told to do penance but the consequences would be fairly mild. And many of the same things regarding casual touch hold true. Various rituals of kissing, including men kissing men on the mouth, are used as greetings, to seal contracts, and as part of mass.

Medieval Europe also had a concept variously called passionate, romantic, or chivalric friendship--close relationships between two people of the same gender that could be long-lasting, physically affectionate, emotionally intense in a way we would today read as romantic, and (allegedly) celibate. Were some of these passionate friendships actually queer relationships with a sexual component that just wasn’t talked about? Probably. Were some of them what we would define as queerplatonic or homoromantic asexual relationships today? Probably. Is it even useful to try to stuff these experiences into modern relationship categories? Debatable. The point is...the borders between what was defined as friendship, romance and love were different. Two men who traveled together, slept in the same bed, shared resources, were emotionally intimate with each other, and otherwise entwined their lives would not necessarily have been assumed to be sex partners in medieval Europe. And (I think this is the important part) Yusuf and Nicolò would not necessarily have seen being perceived as passionate friends as “hiding” the true nature of their relationship or as assigning some lesser value to it.

In terms of how they are perceived in public, I think things really don’t start to change until the early 20th century. It’s a gradual process, but over the first half of the 20th century, more or less, affectionate touch between men becomes defined as “gay” and a mainstream (straight) masculinity that is concerned with defining itself as “not gay” emerges. Affectionate touch, and then any show of loving emotion between men, gradually becomes less and less acceptable, to a degree that probably seems absurd to two 900-year-old Mediterraneans. (The absurdity is really well-expressed in the van scene, which is literally like “Bro is it gay to [checks notes]...express concern about the well-being of the person you were just violently kidnapped with?”)

Like, on the one hand, you have queer people talking openly about their sexuality in ways that were not an option at earlier times in their lives. But at the same time you have to be careful holding hands walking down the high street now because someone might chuck an empty beer bottle at you. Must’ve been a real wild transition for them.

[flooffybits]

Important

Idol: Wong Kahei (Loona)

marshmallow: Since there's still no Vivi scenario 👀 how bout a fluff one where during idol room the host (d*ni and c*ni) were joking around saying that the 13th member is the ugliest and dumb and didn't have her any chance of answering when they play a guessing game. Basically treating her badly then the others. So after the show Vivi notice she's been feeling down for a couple of weeks and not really acting like how she use to so Vivi comforts her with other members🥺💜

A/n: finally my first Vivi request, done. also i hate d and c for various reasons that i cannot discuss or else i just might not write anymore

☕buy me a coffee☕

You were used to hate comments thrown your way.

You were used to fans comparing you to the other members.

You were used to people still questioning why you were added in the Loona lineup.

They’ve stopped bothering you after a while, your members making sure that you didn’t believe the things other people said and assured you that you were just as important to the group as any of them,

However, you were not used to being publicly humiliated, and on live television, no less. So when Coni had made the careless comment about how you may not even give your team a chance at winning, you that was already enough to knock your excitement down, given that you had been looking forward to spending time with your members during your visit to Idol Room.

“Y/n.” Doni had called for your attention and you look up, blinking by the suddenness as he addressed you. “What are you in charge of?” He questioned and you felt a little bit more relieved with the question. “Well, all the members are good at everything. So we just sometimes switch on who takes the lead.” You explain and he nodded his head.

“So that means you stay at the back?” He joked, the two hosts soon cracking and you smile awkwardly with all the cameras rolling whilst your members looked a little surprised by the comment. “With so many members, I feel bad that you’re always overshadowed by their beauty and talents.” Coni then added and that had caused you to press your lips together in a thin line whilst Sooyoung looked a bit offended with what he was insinuating.

But you didn’t want to cause a scene, so you went along with it and chuckled lightly. “I guess so. My members are all really pretty and talented.” You miss the way Haseul glances at you, worry in her eyes, and Hyejoo silently glaring at the two hosts.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure a bit more practice and then you can reach your members’ level. Plus, you still have a lot to learn, your Korean is still barely understandable.” That had caused you to bite the inside of your cheek, deflating as they had addressed one of your worries when you first came to Korea.

It was no secret that you were insecure about yourself, especially with your communication skills, but the way the pair had blatantly called you out for it had only boosted that insecurity.

Your members couldn’t speak up, knowing that it wasn’t a good idea to make a scene, but luckily Hyunjin had been subtle with her attack, her face blank as she watched the two hosts.

“Y/n’s pronunciations are actually really good. She works really hard just so she makes sure that it’s easy for both her and the people she talks to.” Doni nodded his head in agreement. “Diligence is one of an idol’s key traits. Have more of it.”

They weren’t expecting the rebuttal, but Heejin had visibly grown uncomfortable and Yeojin shuffled closer to you when they were starting to realize how you were becoming more and more the target of the duo’s harshness.

Chaewon’s brows raised at the audacity they had to publicly shame you, but held her mouth shut when Jinsoul placed a hand on the small of her back.

They tolerated the rest of the show for the sake of the group’s image, but every comment thrown your way made them all increasingly upset, though you’re good with keeping up a façade just to keep the peace within the room for your members.

The pair made you feel more and more isolated as the show progressed. And while you did your best to participate, they seemed to make it a point that they weren’t at all interested in you being there. Throughout the whole segment, you could stay on your seat and watched as your members slowly began to be immersed in the games they had prepared.

Eventually, you had stopped trying and merely smiled, opting to be the spectator the hosts expected you to be, and merely clapped and congratulated your members when they had gotten an answer right.

In the end, you were just thankful that they had forgotten about you. It was better than being degraded and being the butt of the joke.

But as you left the set that day, you couldn’t say that you had the same level of energy compared to when you had arrived.

And no one could really blame you.

Right as the episode had aired, you made it a point to stay off of social media and threw yourself into work despite not really having to do so. The girls wondered and worried with you constantly heading to the company to practice, but no one seemed to have the capability of bringing it up or calling you out, not when you looked you were just about ready to fall apart at any given second.

Kahei could only watch as the days passed, hoping that you could recover and bounce back because she hates seeing you so down. She’s used to seeing you running around the dorm, running away from Jiwoo’s affectionate assaults or trying to get Jungeun to lighten up whenever she started scolding someone.

In the end, Jungeun and Sooyoung calls for majority of their attention, both looking unpleased as the girls came into the living room, minus you, Heejin, and Jinsoul due to your schedules.

“We need to talk.” Sooyoung announces while she grabs her phone from the table. “Is this about the laundry again?” Hyejoo groans, not wanting another lecture after the last time her pillow exploded in it, but the two older girls shook their heads, and the girls could see that this was a more serious topic.

“It’s about Y/n.”

Kahei stiffens and her hands clutch at the pillow resting against her lap before Haseul placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We know that she hasn’t been well.” Hyunjin muttered, frowning when she remembers how you’ve resorted to avoiding some of them now.

Jungeun taps on the blue bird icon before twitter popped up. She turns the device around to show the group what her and her fellow leader wanted to address.

ApologizeToY/n was under the trending topics and the sight of it made all the girls frown before they saw Orbits commenting about Coni and Doni’s clear and explicit mistreatment of you during the show and how uncomfortable you’ve been throughout it.

“This is everywhere and I doubt Y/n hasn’t seen it, either.” Chaewon sighed while slumping in her seat, arms crossed as she scuffed her slippers against the floor and Yerim pouted as she scanned through the tags.

“Can I just say how I hated how they treated her?” Hyejoo speaks up, and honestly, no one could blame her. They all felt the same thing, so it wasn’t something they could hold against her.

Kahei pulls her pillow close to her chest, her mind replaying the hesitant look on your face whenever you were all together. You didn’t have to tell her, but she could see the insecurity in your eyes every time she would see you looking at everyone.

It was as though you were silently comparing yourself to them.

“Is there something we can do?” Haseul asks, hoping for any suggestions that would help ease the situation, but no one can think of anything at that moment and Kahei looks up at the leader with her lips pressed together. “Would you mind if I talk to her first?”

The girls know that there was something that was going on between you and the eldest member. Though neither of you have confirmed anything, they knew that Kahei’s affections for you were on a far more different level compared to the way she would take care of the rest of the members.

So, without arguments, the girls agreed, whisking Jinsoul and Heejin away when the three of you arrive after a long day and Kahei thinks that it’s the best time as any, now that you were alone in your room with everyone preparing whatever it was they decided would help cheer you up.

“Y/n?”

The call of your name is enough to make you roll over on your side, spotting the older girl peeking inside your room with a small smile gracing her lips. She knows that you’re tired, but she doesn’t want to keep seeing you look so down.

“Unnie, what’s up?” You try to casually ask, sitting up in bed and indicating for her to come in, which she does without hesitation, quietly shutting the door behind her before she had walked over to your bed and took the space you made for her to sit next to you.

Her embrace is something you easily welcome, the tension leaving your body, even just for that moment when you lean against her. You let out a deep breath and she squeezes your shoulders before a kiss was placed atop your head.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” She whispers softly and you immediately frown at the implication. Of course the girls could pick up on your withering state. They made it their personal mission to look after you ever since you arrived.

“I know you won’t say anything first, so I’ll be the one to do it.” Kahei cuts you off from thinking further as she speaks. “What they told you back at the Idol Room, it’s not true, okay?”

She shifts so that she’s looking at your face, one hand cupping your jaw so that you can’t look at anything but her because she needs you to listen to her instead of your thoughts.

“You’re an amazing singer, Y/n. Frankly, you’re perfectly fine the way you are and I hate how you’re letting these two people who know nothing about you make you feel like you’re not worth being here when you are.” Her voice is firm as she speaks, making sure to get her message across because she knows that you’re often too stubborn to believe them when they compliment you.

“We’re young and our career is only just beginning, so there will always be room for improvement. Plus, we’re both not from Korea, so of course not everything will be as easy for us as it is for the others, but has that ever let you down before?”

She doesn’t let you answer when she continues, not once breaking eye contact. “Everyone is here to help us. We’re a team for a reason. While we won’t always excel, we’re always going to wait for each other because that’s what a team - what a family does. So please, stop thinking that you’re worth less than anyone here because you’re just as important.”

Her voice grows softer after each word when she ends her sentence and you’re incredibly calmed by it as she brushes her thumb gently against your cheek when her forehead lightly bumps against yours.

“You don’t know understand how much it hurts to see you like this and all I want to do is take that pain and doubt away.” She murmurs and you shut your eyes, basking in the warmth that she had so easily provided before feeling soft lips pressing against your forehead.

You both stay like that for a while, just cuddling on your bed with her fingers combing through your hair. She doesn’t probe you on how you’re feeling, but seeing that you weren’t frowning nor were your shoulders slumped made her feel that you were a little bit better compared to before.

It’s when her phone vibrates with a text from Haseul that Kahei looks away from you and her brows pinch together when she sees it.

Why would the leader have to text her when she was just outside?

everything’s ready!

Confused, Kahei forgot that the girls were all getting something ready for you in the living room. So with a quick okay, the older girl gives you a small nudge before she’s nodding to the door. “The girls are calling for us.”

You don’t say anything, but the confusion is clear on your face as Kahei takes your hand and leads you outside, a smile on her face when she intertwines her fingers with yours just as you spot the rest of your group huddled together and you can’t help cracking a smile at how comedic they all looked.

Sooyoung looked awkward as she offered you a smile, Jungeun standing next to her, looking as though she had just finished scolding the younger girls who were trying their best to keep the snacks on the table while, for some reason, their own favorites kept disappearing, only for Hyunjin to place them back.

Heejin was silently counting everything to make sure that they had enough, only to restart every time Hyunjin would put the stolen snacks away and ensuing the pair to start arguing whilst Yeojin finished another one of her bead rings and Haseul just shook her head as Jinsoul tried to bite back her laughter while telling Jiwoo to keep her voice down.

“What are you doing?” You ask, an amused lilt to your tone as you properly assessed your members while Kahei grins and shakes her head, mimicking your leader when everyone snaps their attention to the two of you.

“It’s movie night!” Yerim happily announces while she’s trying to keep the remote away from Hyejoo’s hands and the latter grumbles. “I want to pick the movie!” She exclaimed, but Chaewon plucked the remote from Yerim’s hands, an already opened snack in her other hand. “We should ask Y/n what she wants to watch.”

“But unnie!” The second youngest was already staring at you with her puppy eyes that she often uses on you when she wants you siding with her and you smile softly before pulling Kahei to join everyone else in the living room.

Haseul slips next to the older girl, smiling when she sees the look the other sends you as you accept the bead ring Yeojin offers whilst trying to control the other two maknaes.

“Things went well, I hope?” The leader questions and Kahei hums with a fond smile playing at her lips. “I guess so.” She replies, seeing that you were slowly reverting back to your cheerful self when Heejin and Jiwoo join in on the pile you’ve all ended up in when Hyejoo tried stealing the remote again.

There’s laughter echoing in the dorm, add Jungeun’s slight screeching and Sooyoung’s scolding, but Haseul bumps her shoulders with Kahei while everyone is busy doing their own thing and finally picking a movie to watch. “So, have you both properly talked about it or...?”

Kahei stares at you when Jiwoo and Jinsoul begin to press kisses on your face, Yeojin coming in right after, and she smiles a little to herself. “Not yet, but we’re getting there.”

And honestly, that was enough for her as she soon took the spot next to you once given the chance and her arm loops with yours before she’s laying her head on your shoulder.

[dialovers-translations]

DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, BLOOD OFFICIAL VISUAL FANBOOK ー Interview Vol. 2 feat. Nao Nakamura

Source: DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, BLOOD Official Visual Fanbook

Release date: 2013

Huge thank you to @keithvalentinex​ for providing the raw scans!

SECTION 1: Q&A

Q1. When was the series’ sequel decided on?

A: Around the time the first game ‘DIABOLIK LOVERS’ was released in stores. We were fortunate enough to have already received news of an anime adaption at the time, so at some point we played with the idea of creating a fan disc to go along with it. However, if possible we wanted to hype up the series even more in anticipation of the anime’s release, which is how the production of a  ‘DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE, BLOOD’ series came to realisation.

Q2. Did you plan on introducing a set of 4 new characters during the early phases of development?

A: The initial draft we received from Rejet-sama mentioned four characters. We figured that with that amount, we could pack it into one game and create an equal amount of content as we did for the Sakamaki’s, so we proceeded with said idea. At one of the first brainstorm sessions, we casually dropped the idea of creating a game with 6 Do-M characters... (lol) However, that would stray too far away from the core concept behind ‘DIABOLIK LOVERS’, so it obviously got rejected. (lol)

Q3. How did you go about writing the characters’ dialogue and actions?

A: I believe that the previous installment can be regarded rather groundbreaking within the genre of otome games. However, the boys coming across as too strong to the point where it would prevent someone from delving deeper into their character is something we reflected upon. We wanted to make up for that this time and created this game with the intend of exploring them even further.

Q4. What did you struggle the most with while writing the script?

A: This doesn’t apply solely to the script, but the fact there are so many romanceable characters in this game is what made it so difficult. However, we did not want there to be a difference in quality between the different characters’ routes. Despite our strong wish to please the playerbase, it made the distribution of time very difficult. The writers would first pen down the script, then Rejet-san would do the proofreading and make adjustments and then pass it on to us. However, reading a script while playing a game or simply reading it on paper is still different, so we were making minute changes down to the very last minute of development. We ran through the same process for the last game, but this time around, the total amount of content was just very large. We once again felt the struggle of putting in so many characters to choose from. However, we did this to create an even better game, so it was worth the struggle. 

Q5. Which character caused you the most problems while writing the script?

A: All of the Sakamaki’s. The four Mukami brothers who make their appearance in this installment may be Vampires, but they were once human just like the heroine, so in terms of emotions, they tend to sympathize with her more. As a result, it only makes the Sakamaki’s seem even more like they are the villains of the story. While this may seem obvious given their original setting of being both ‘Vampires’ and ‘extreme sadists’, it makes it very easy for the otome game element as well as the feelings they end up developing for the heroine to be lost, in which case they would no longer be the six brothers we wanted to deliver. Therefore, it was very difficult to convey to the player that the love they harbor for the heroine eventually makes them change, while still preserving the sadistic tendencies which stem from their nature as Vampires at the same time. The player base has spent quite a bit of time interacting with these brothers, and I am sure it was not always easy, but I hope said message was delivered to those who played our game.

Q6. Is there a character who underwent drastic changes compared to the last game?

A: All of them are still the same at the core, so my impression of them did not change depending on the scenario. I believe minor changes were done to the way some of the characters are drawn, but personally I perceive each character as a mix of both their previous and current representation. 

Q7. In this game, each section is divided into a ‘Situation Part’ and ‘Story Part’. Could you explain your intentions behind this?

A: When collecting feedback on the previous game, we received many complaints about the different chapters feeling inconsistent and all over the place. However, we always intended ‘DIABOLIK LOVERS’ to be a game in which the player gets to enjoy these different kind of ‘situations’, so without losing this part of the enjoyment, we figured we had to make the plot progression easier to grasp, which is how the current structure was implementend. To make it even more clear to the player, we divided it into two sections and gave each of them a title, changing the names as well. 

Q8. What are parts which have greatly improved or parts you want us to focus on in comparison to the first game?

A: To ensure the player gets to enjoy the development in the heroine and characters’ thoughts and feelings, we applied small adjustments till the very last second. We hope that the people playing the game will take notice of this as well. 

Q9. Why do you think the series has received such a great amount of support?

A: I believe the impact of the ‘Do-S Vampire’ concept, Satoi-san’s eye-catching illustrations and the charm of the cast who voices the characters all play a big part in this. Furthermore, I also believe that the simultaenous announcement of both drama CDs and a game which took place during the early stages of development had a large influence as well. We were able to make a smooth transition from the release of the CDs to the release of the games, which made it easier for the fans to follow along with the franchise. We truly are grateful for that!

Q10. Were there any ideas you wanted to incorporate in this game, but were unable to do in the end?

A: This game features the same selection segment as the previous one in which scenario’s 1 ~ 6 raise your love meter, while scenarios 7 ~ 10 raise the SM meter. However, we implemented the distinction between the ‘situation part’ and ‘story part’ this time, so it might have actually been even more enjoyable if the situation part raises the SM meter instead...I think. Those kind of features may vary depending on the vision of the director and staff members, so I would like to use this experience to think of various possible routes for future installments, as well as to settle on an end product which is fitting for the franchise. Furthermore, this may seem like a task without an end but I believe that the voicing plays a big factor in delivering the story. It is a vital element of conveying the message you want to tell, in a way that whether or not the player understands the plot is often highly dependent on the voice work. Every time I find myself wanting to perfect this, but it is difficult to supervise all of it just by myself...However, there’s always next time, so I’d love to squeeze in the time to thoroughly check this!

Q11. Do you have any more games planned for the series at present? Would you personally like to create more sequels?

A: We do not as of now, but if there is a strong demand for it, we might just be able to develop another game. Personally I would like to make a stereotypical ‘fandisc’ but the very first thing that comes to mind with those is a 'sweet, romantic story’ so I do struggle a little envisioning how that would play out with a cast made out of nothing but intense characters. 

Q12. Please leave a message for the fans.

A: Thanks to the support we have received from all of you, we were able to create so much content for this franchise. I put my heart and soul into this game, so I sincerely hope that many people will enjoy it. Your impressions and encouraging messages are a great motivator as well, so I am eagerly awaiting those! The series may deliver new installments in the future, and to ensure that you all can continue to enjoy ‘DIABOLIK LOVERS’, we will continue to try our hardest together with Rejet-san, so we’d be happy if you could send us your heartfelt support. 

SECTION 2: THEIR FAVORITE EPISODES

Sakamaki brothers: The final few chapters of Ayato’s route left a strong impression on me. I couldn’t help but wonder if somebody could truly be that stubborn and in denial about their own feelings, insistent on calling the girl they love ‘a prey’ till the very end. I felt so frustrated when the heroine’s feelings just wouldn’t get through to him, tears welled up in my eyes. 

Mukami brothers: The part which gave me the most goosebumps during the development stages has to be Ruki’s Manservant Ending. Takagi Sakurai-san did a magnificant job portraying his silent madness, it was truly wonderful. Second place would be Azusa’s brute ending, even though I knew how the story would go, I still ended up feeling a little depressed by it, so please be careful when you play this scenario...

SECTION 3: NAO NAKAMURA CHOOSES ー SITUATION-DEPENDENT CHARACTER SELECT

Who would you choose in these situations? What’s the developer’s opinion?

S1. To sleep together with?

Best: Subaru, I feel like he has a good sleeping posture.

Worst: Subaru, he might not move around much in his sleep, but it’d still be uncomfortable and narrow in that coffin, huh? 

S2. To go on a trip together with?

Best: Shuu, I’m sure he’d just loaf around the lodge all day, so I get to enjoy the trip in whichever way I want!

Worst: Laito, I’d rather keep my distance from him. 

S3. To eat together with?

Best: Kou because I’m sure he’d happily gobble it up.

Worst: Kanato, I feel like the food would be lacking in nutrients.

S4. To study with?

Best: Ruki, I think he’d do a good job explaining everything accurately.

Worst: ???, honestly all of them...

S5. To go on a date with?

Best: Yuma, I actually think he would make for a great boyfriend.

Worst: Shuu, because everything would be a chore to him...

S6. To play a video game with?

Best: Ayato, he just seems like the type of guy you can always have fun and make some ruckus with.

Worst: Reiji, he seems super fussy.

S7. To play sports with?

Best: Shuu, I don’t really like exercising so...I’ll go with the person who seems unlikely to exercise in the first place.

Worst: Ayato, I don’t like exercise after all...

S8. To go on a drive with?

Best: Ruki, I’m positive he would look handsome behind the wheel.

Worst: Azusa, it’d be bad if his bandages were to get stuck around the steering wheel or the gear stick...

[sledgefuweek]

Each year we take a close look at the prompts for Sledgefu Week, for those who may be stuck for ideas or not quite sure about what the prompts could entail. Below the readmore are all seven prompts, as well as a short write-up exploring what they mean and some ideas to help get the creative juices going. Enjoy!!

Sickfic

This is a really popular and well-known fanfic trope that I feel probably needs little explanation, but I’ll write a little bit about it anyway! It essentially covers fic where one character is ill and the other cares for them -- it could encompass any kind of illness at all, (including chronic illnesses) and there’s a lot of room to get creative with it. You can go for angst, hurt/comfort, or fluff: it’s just a really good general prompt that I think works nicely to kick the week off!

It suits for Sledgefu pretty well, considering Snafu’s canon mild hypochondria, as well as the fact that Eugene’s dad is a doctor. It could be fun to lean into it: make Eugene play doctor for an actually-sick Snafu, and it could be just as fun to subvert it! There’s really endless options for canon fic: shrapnel wounds turned bad, heat-sickness, seasickness, illness from bad food or bad water or any kind of tropical disease you can think of (malaria is a big one!). You could make one of them (or both) a medic; you could genderswap them and write the gay field nurse fic this fandom sorely needs. And of course if you choose to branch out into modern AU you can begin to think of what might afflict them outside of a war setting: has Eugene been working too much and come down with a cold? Are they hungover, and need mutual care (and lots of takeout)? A lot of the time sickfic focuses on one character doing the comforting and the other character feeling unwell, but there’s nothing to say they can’t both be feeling shitty! I think we say this every year but there’s really no rules at all, you do whatever you feel inspired to do. With Sickfic, just be mindful to tag anything that others might be affected by eg. vomiting, blood, needles, etc.

Tarot

I feel like Tarot is pretty well-known to the Sledgefu fandom, or at least to those who like to write Snafu or his family a little witchy. In case you just have a vague idea of what Tarot actually is and what its purpose or origins are, I’ll explain it as concisely as I can! Tarot decks started life in Europe as playing cards, but eventually began to be used for divination. It’s made up of four suits, or the Minor Arcana, (Wands, Cups, Swords, and Pentacles) as well as a twenty-two card Major Arcana (the imagery of which you’re probably very familiar with). Commonly, tarot decks and tarot reading is used as a means of communicating with the higher self, deities, or with the universe. They can be used as a way to see the future, answer questions, or to give/receive advice. There are different ways of reading them too, depending on how one lays out the cards: I don’t want to make this too wordy, but if you’re curious I encourage you to check out this site to learn more!

For writers, there’s a lot of places this prompt could take you! Probably the most obvious will be fortune teller fic; a classic. Lean into Snafu’s Louisiana roots and have him telling fortunes in the depths of the French Quarter, or go against the grain and have Eugene reading cards and palms and tea leaves as a practice passed down through his family. Or maybe more casual: modern AU Sledgefu flirting through amateur tarot readings with a deck picked up from a junk shop. If you read Tarot and have a connection to it, you can express that through writing! It’s a pretty open-ended prompt, especially if you consider some of the meanings of the cards; you could even write a story inspired by that! The Hermit: Snafu withdrawing, leaving Eugene on the train to spend the next few months in solitude, working through things. The Moon: Snafu and Eugene hitting a rough patch, hiding things from each other. The opportunities really become endless once you start taking the readings of the cards into account! And for visual artists, this must be such a fun prompt: I feel like it’s so a visually rich, whether you’re re-drawing the cards to encompass Snafu and Eugene within them, or making a collage based around some of the things mentioned above: fortune tellers shops, witches cottages, etc.

Trinket

Every Sledgefu Week we tend to have a couple prompts that are a little more open to interpretation, and this year’s ‘Trinket’ is one of those. It might be difficult to try and think of something to base a whole fic or piece of art around, but we really encourage you to let your imagination run wild! There’s already some great trinkets in the show itself: Eugene’s ring, the lighter that Gunny Haney gave him, Snafu’s stolen gold teeth, or their dog tags. Think of small, special objects that you might have: what imbues them with comfort or meaning? What makes you love them? You could have Eugene giving Snafu his ring, or have Eugene musing over war and death and loss while smoking a cigarette lit by his lighter. If you’re into Modern AUs, how could these objects carry through to modern day? Once you start thinking about it, the ideas start rolling in. Feel free to invent special trinkets for them: or maybe trinkets that they hate and want to get rid of, trinkets that remind them of bad times. Trinkets that remind them of each other, or family, or war. So much meaning can be held in the things we own, and I think it’s such a lovely concept to explore!

Crossover

So this prompt was born from the sheer number of suggestions we had for various movie, TV, and book AUs. We didn’t want to put them all to the poll and risk a lot of you feeling disappointed over the one you wanted not being selected, so thought it’d work best to condense them into a ‘Crossover’ prompt so everyone could do whatever they liked. So this is a very very broad one! It would be impossible for me to really go through the prompt and highlight some things that you could do for it, because you can really do anything you want to! Anything! It encompasses movies, video games, TV, books, musicals... if something tells a story, you can do a crossover. So if there’s ever been a film/book/etc. AU you wanted to do for Sledgefu Week but couldn’t quite get it to match the prompts, now is the time!

Vacation

A pretty self explanatory prompt, and one that I think can appeal to people who prefer canonverse and those who like modern AU too! Do you want to send Snafu and Eugene on the holiday of their dreams, or are they gonna be bickering in a gas station over who gets control of the map? Is Snafu gonna drive across a couple states to surprise Eugene by visiting? Is Eugene gonna do the same? There’s a lot of scenarios you can apply to the backdrop of them vacationing, and a lot of emotional journeys you can take them through! And for the canonverse crowd, you have the extra addition of letting them go have fun on an R&R, or taking a road trip post-war, visiting 1950s Paris... you can really do whatever you like!

Historical

This was another prompt like ‘Crossover’ that came from a lot of various suggestions that all boiled down to a similar thing: different historical events or periods. So like Crossover, I won’t linger too long on it (this post is long enough already) except just to say again: do whatever you’re inspired to do! There’s no rules here, you could even take everyone out of the Pacific and put them over in Germany: give them a different experience of war. In fact, you can do that with any war if you wanted to! Wanna do a M*A*S*H AU but made something else for Crossover? You could do it here! Want to put them in the 1920s? You got it. In the 1850s? Yeehaw, they’re cowboys now. 1969, Summer of Love? 1600s, make Snafu a prince? Literally the world is your oyster!

Horror

Past Sledgefu Week prompts have included things that could come under the horror umbrella (Supernatural, for example) but didn’t necessarily have to be made 'horrific’. For the ‘Horror’ prompt this year, we want to see frightening! Disquieting, uncomfortable; creations that either cross over with existing horror franchises, or lean on horrific things you come up with yourself. Horror movies, or TV shows, or books or podcasts or pieces of art all seek to elicit a sense of fear: this can be done by tapping into common phobias, or nightmares, those things which are universally and almost instinctively scary. We want to see things which lean into that, in whatever way you want to do it! 

I’m no horror media expert (not by a long shot) but the opportunities for this prompt are really vast simply because horror has so many subgenres to work with. You could go gothic horror; Dracula, Frankenstein, Wuthering Heights (a personal favourite AU -- Eugene soaked out on the moors, searching for Heathcliff-Snafu? Divine). Or you could go to the opposite end of the spectrum: Jennifer’s Body AU, Final Girl AU -- there’s no set way to do horror, in fact you could even bring horror into canonverse if you don’t like AUs. Think the Terror: some unknown beast lurking beyond the borders of their camp on Pavuvu, or Okinawa. Or you could even take the prompt entirely literally and explore the horrors of war and the toll it takes on them both. Please don’t feel stuck into needing to do Scary: horror is about fear and revulsion and dread, and these feelings don’t necessarily need to come from a haunting! (This is also a prompt ripe for monsterfucking, just FYI).

                                                - - - - - - - - - -

So that’s the prompts for this year! They’re all really really great, and have a lot of potential to make some fantastic stuff :~) And to reiterate something I said right at the start, there are no rules here! I think every year we normally get at least one person unsure whether their idea will be okay for the prompt they’d like to make it for, so I just wanna say here: don’t second-guess yourself! As long as it can be linked back to the prompt in some way or another (can literally be the vaguest way possible) you’ll be absolutely fine. We don’t vet submissions at all, especially not for their content relating to the prompts. All we ask is that you remember to stay respectful in what you’re writing, and when the time comes to post it, you tag and warn appropriately :~)

On the subject of writing respectfully, we’d like to just take a moment to link the document on mindful writing re: race and gender that was made last year. Please take a look at it, even if you read it last year! It’s always good to keep these things at the front of your mind, as fandom is a community sport and we want to keep it fun and safe for everyone involved! So thank you if you’ve made it this far through this whole post, check out the doc, and enjoy the rest of the run-up to Sledgefu Week!

[reyesstrand]

Hi!! I’m absolutely obsessed with your writings! You are absolutely amazing. If you’re still taking prompts would love to see 11. “How could you ask me that?” and 36. “You’ve shown me what love can feel like.” Thank you so much. 💕💕

thank you so much! i’m sorry for the wait on this one but i hope you enjoy!! 

feel free to send me a number from this list if you’d like. also available on ao3! 

“It feels like it’s been forever since I’ve gotten you alone.”

There’s no bite to Michelle’s words as she speaks, but Carlos immediately picks up on the insinuation that she’s lying down: that Carlos is a little too caught up in the whirlwind that is TK Strand for him to make time for their weekly tradition of drinks and street tacos at their favourite place downtown. He’s missed the last three or four chances they had to hang out, due to picking up shifts or getting wrapped up in his — what, friend? boyfriend? guy-that-he’s-exclusively-seeing-but-has-no-label-for is too wordy, but it’s really the only thing that makes sense when trying to describe what he has with TK.

“Sorry,” Carlos says, because he is. Michelle’s been there for him through thick and thin ever since he was barely out of high school and he started hanging out with her as much as he hung out with Iris. But she waves him off immediately.

“No need to apologize, I know that boy of yours, you should feel no shame for getting as much time in with him as you can,” Michelle offers him a wink, but when he just sort of sighs and sinks down into his chair, she cocks her head to the side. “Is everything okay with you two?”

Carlos could offer her the same response he’s been giving his sister, who’s wanted to meet his so-called mystery guy for almost a month, now. She’d noticed his change of tone whenever he spoke about his and TK’s relationships, and Carlos had quickly chalked it up to him being tired after a long day. Which was true — but he could just sense that something was up with TK, and it wasn’t something he was ready to get into with his sister. But Michelle’s different; she might actually know if something’s up with the 126 that could be attributed to TK’s slow but steady act of pulling away from him.

“Actually, uh, he’s been kind of distant, lately,” Carlos says, trying to keep it casual, but Michelle’s eyebrows furrow almost immediately.

“For how long?” Michelle asks, bringing her beer to her lips and taking a sip.

Carlos sighs. “Two weeks. I thought maybe something was going on at work?”

Michelle presses her lips together, but the corners of her mouth still turn down in a frown as she shakes her head. “I mean, he seems normal at the station. The whole team does.”

They’re quiet for a few moments, as Michelle taps her fingers against the neck of her bottle.

“How is he being distant?” Michelle finally asks, and Carlos shrugs, squinting as he looks off into the distance, the setting sun just low enough to be in his line of vision.

“We still go on dates and stuff, but he doesn’t really talk to me like he did before. He always seems like he’s lying when I ask him if he’s okay,” Carlos shrugs, taking a breath before speaking the words out loud, finally voicing the fear that’s been brewing in his chest. “I think he might want to break up with me.”

“Are you serious?” Michelle looks at him with wide eyes, and Carlos slowly nods.

“I mean, what else could it be? We gave us a shot for real two months ago, maybe he doesn’t like how it’s turning out,” Carlos rubs at the back of his neck.

“I’ll talk to him,” Michelle says, eyes suddenly a little darker as her protective side starts coming out. Carlos quickly reaches across the table and takes her hands in his.

“God, no way, Michelle, I don’t want you to scare him off,” Carlos insists, rubbing a thumb along the inside of her wrist to calm her, a little. “I think I should just ask him tomorrow. Be straight up about everything.”

He makes the decision without really thinking it through. Maybe he’s the one that’s freaking out too much — TK could just be exhausted, or dealing with his dad’s chemo appointments on top of having a strenuous job. But he knows what his ma would say, that he probably should’ve already talked with TK about this when he first started worrying. And the way it seems to settle Michelle’s willingness to go after TK herself is also a bonus.

“How’s your mom?” he asks, to shove the focus off of his issues for a little while. And it seems to work, Michelle only giving him one last wary glance before she talks about their plan to bring Iris a care package, Carlos quietly stewing in his own mind over what to do next.

* * * 

Carlos knows that work isn’t the best place to do this. But he also knows just how distracted he’s been all day just thinking about all the possibilities of what TK’s struggling with, and if he doesn’t get his emotions off his chest he’s going to crash and burn. Besides, they’ve been called to an accident at a state fair — a malfunctioning ferris wheel, that hadn’t moved for half an hour with people stuck on the ride — and once the 126 rescued the ten stranded people, they were all milling around, waiting for the all-clear, and Carlos has been watching TK just chat with Marjan for the last ten minutes and he figures this is as good a time as any.

Marjan catches his eye before TK sees him, and she says something quickly to him as TK begins to turn around. He offers Carlos a small smile as he approaches and Marjan clears her throat.

“I’m just...not going to be here right now. Nice to see you, Carlos,” Marjan says as she slips away from them, going over to where Mateo’s checking on equipment. Carlos nods at her as she leaves, and TK steps a little closer.

“How’s your night going?” TK asks, and Carlos frowns a little at the way that TK has yet to really look him in the eye.

“This is going to sound stupid,” Carlos says, instead of actually answering the other man. “But are you trying to break up with me?”

After ten seconds of silence, TK barks out a laugh. But when he takes in Carlos’ worried look and his tense jaw, his eyebrows shoot up. “Wait, you’re serious?”

“Sorry, I’m just being an idiot, I—”

“Wait, Carlos,” TK says, curling his fingers around Carlos’ wrist. “Talk to me?”

“It’s just...you’ve been distant, over the past couple of weeks. And at first I thought you were just tired, or maybe wrapped up in your head, which I totally get. But I want to be there for you no matter what, and I feel like you couldn’t wait for me to get out of your hair on our past few dates.” Carlos explains, watching as TK runs a hand down his face. “So, do you want to break up with me? I just can’t keep doing this, Ty.”

“How could you ask me that?” TK’s brought his voice down to a whisper, and Carlos shakes his head.

“I’m just wondering where we stand, Ty,” Carlos says. “I really like you, but I don’t want you to feel forced into this relationship if you—”

“I don’t,” TK quickly interjects, stepping even more into Carlos’ space. “I don't feel forced into anything. You have to believe me, okay? I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you. And it still blows my mind that I get to have you in my life. Carlos— you’ve shown me what love can feel like. After all I’ve been through and all that I’ve put you through, you’ve stood by me, and I can’t even express to you how important you are to me.”

Carlos feels warmth spread through him, but he still doesn’t get the distance. He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can, TK presses on.

“I’ve been distant because I wanted,” TK stops for a second, inhaling shakily as he glances around, his eyes illuminated under the twinkling lights of the various rides and the signs advertising games and food. He meets Carlos’ gaze again and finally continues. “I wanted to ask you to be my boyfriend. Officially. But I didn’t know how to do it because you mean so much to me and I wanted to do this right, and I’ve been kind of stressing out about making things perfect and—”

“Hey, hey, TK,” Carlos says, bringing his hands up to frame TK’s face, practically feeling the other man’s mind going thousand miles a minute. “I think boyfriend has a nice ring to it.”

TK’s mouth quirks up in a lopsided smile. “Yeah?”

Carlos hums in agreement. “Yeah.”

“I’m sorry for making you worry,” TK says, “that’s the last thing I wanted to do.”

“Well, this is much better than all the other scenarios I was imagining,” Carlos jokes, but when he sees the flash of worry clouding up TK’s eyes, he presses a quick kiss to his boyfriend’s temple. “It’s okay, Ty. I swear.”

TK opens his mouth to speak, only for Judd’s voice to pipe up.

“Hey, loverboys! I won’t hesitate to use this hose on y’all,” Judd teases, as the others smirk all around them. “Come on, TK, we gotta go save some chickens from a barn fire.”

“Texas manages to surprise me every day,” TK mutters, meeting Carlos’ eyes one last time. “What are you doing later? I have to make things up to my boyfriend.”

TK waggles his eyebrows and Carlos snorts, leaning in quick to kiss him. “Come to my place when you’re done, I’m making you dinner.”

“You’re seriously the best,” TK says, as he turns to head toward the rig, where Marjan’s holding the door open for him.

“Be safe!” Carlos shouts out after him, and TK gives him one last smile and wave before he’s disappeared into the truck. As he retreats to his squad car, he shoots Michelle a quick text — things are all good, won’t need you threatening my boyfriend any time soon — before he heads off to the next call, unable to stop himself from smiling to himself over that label, one he hopes will stick for as long as humanly possible.

[bellamygateoldblog]

the 100 ofc!

— this gets a little rant-y and may or may not be coherent- currently pulling an all-nighter and it’s literally 5am- that’s it. That’s my excuse.

all time favourite character

IDK man IDK…I wanna say Jasper, maybe Raven

a character I didn’t used to like but do now

I’ll stick Octavia in this one. I actually did like her at first, then i didn’t then i did then i didn’t then i

a character i used to like but now don’t

[ insert every single character here ] Clarke and Bellamy. Clarke lost me very early season 3 and Bellamy is dead to me as of season 6. I’m throwing Miller in here- when he was that delinquent that wears the beanie I could go for that, but now i’m just straight up annoyed by his presence and want him to go away forever. My reluctant liking of Abby turned sour pretty fast, too. Arming a group of children and sending them out into a warzone to find your daughter, then abandoning them once she’s back is really SOMETHING. And hitting Raven while she’s acting Chancellor…i should beat your ass, Abby

a character i’m indifferent about

Wells: poor treatment of MoC and very valid anger aside, truely I don’t see the facination and borderline obsession fandom has with the character himself- he barely existed. Are you all in love with the idea of him, rather? Or the guy from the book? He was literally in this thing for three episodes, we never actually knew him, nor was he even given the chance to develop or have any sort of story. I see so so much hate about Echo and her lack of development and yet in the same breath y’all are talking about missing Wells and oh what a wonderful character he was. Spare me. He was a character full to the brim with potential and unfortunately that’s all he’ll ever be.

Anya and Lexa, too. I don’t really have opinions formed on either of them, nor do I really care to

a character who deserved better

I mean with that minor Wells rant aside and half a step into my hypocrisy boots…Wells did. Lol. I think he absolutely deserved better than to be killed off in order to push a white woman’s story forwards. I think he deserved better than to have been all about Clarke, his entire character about serving her character, even in death. This show has a history of criminally underusing/sideling/killing their most compelling characters, i think Wells would’ve been such a fun addition to the main band, i wonder how his personality would’ve expanded, what could his arcs have looked like? i think about how his dynamics would form and fair, what might he think of Clarke now?

Jasper deserved better than to have become a nihilist’s wet dream. I have mixed feelings about the whole thing, i really do. The creators, some of the fans even, chat about how it’s a gritty reality, sometimes it’s just Like That, and in some ways that’s absolutely right, but in a show of such loss to have this bleak ending for a character like this is just…a bit of an overkill? What’s wrong with hopeful endings? I mean we literally already had a similar scenario occur with Luna a mere episode(s) before. A woman who strives for nothing more than peace loses her faith in humanity and so fights for death. Why they felt the need to kick a dead horse by doing the same thing with Jasper is beyond me.

Listen many character have demonstrated suicidal tendancies at some point or another: Clarke, Murphy, Bellamy, Octavia, Harper and so on, but Jasper is the only one that gets the actual suicide? The character who’s canon mental illness has been more on the explicit and expressed side, the first victim of the ground, the very character who we’ve watched struggle his way through four seasons with an inconsistent or otherwise absent support system, his story ended with suicide. It’s devastating and, frankly, disrespectful. As if he was too far gone to find his way back into the light.

We saw clearly Monty’s reactions to Jasper’s death, but we didn’t see him grieve- he was busy rushing to survive the end of the world. This show loves sidestepping the consiquences of big events they write- there’s always a new threat to face which means everyone gets to move on abnormally quickly. Nobody asked about Jasper in Becca’s lab, we never actually saw anyone except for Clarke find out about this, nobody in the bunker either, not Octavia, and no mentions of Jasper in season five besides Monty begging him to be wrong about humanity. This show isn’t great with handling their deceased either. They want to focus on a fresh plot and not be stuck dragging around that dead weight. Finn isn’t mentioned in relation to Raven despite his importance to her story and of the fact this specific death shook the whole show. Wells’ has been removed from memory despite Clarke being the protagonist who we should know most intimately. I feel most detached from her, honestly. We’ve had a fair amount of Lincoln, though, and a consistantly aggressive reaffirmal of Lexa’s existence. But Jasper just isn’t here. He isn’t talked about. Jasper suffered, and Monty was right there in front of him trying to hand him that peaceful life he always dreamed of, ready to lift him (literally) out of that pain, and he died. Harper got to change her mind last minute, so did Raven, but not Jasper, no, his body went up in flames with the rest of it. The way they filmed the scene was gut-wrenching because of the hopelessness and coldness of it all. And i think he deserved to be spacekru, to heal somewhat up there, and oh what fun would he have been in season five. What would he be like now? What would he think of what became of everyone else? Of Clarke and of Octavia? Again, such wasted potential.

Jasper was one of The 100 on a show named after them, his death brought that to 4, and i can’t emphasise to you enough how big a mistake it was to craft a show around a certain group of people and then abandon that idea entirely. Your show is named something that it isn’t even about!!

Lexa deserved a more respectful death.

Bellamy deserved better than to be murdered brutally by the writers during season 6.

a ship i’ve never been able to get into

Bellarke. Braven. Murven. Clexa. Wicken/Ravick(?). Octabriel. Kabby

a ship i’ve never been able to get over

Becho. Memori. Jasper and Octavia were very sweet

a cute, low-key ship

Linctavia. It was always more of a background ‘ship’ for me. And Marper!

an unpopular ship but i still enjoyed it

Becho and Murphamy

a ship that was totally wrong and never should’ve happened

Flarke

my favourite storyline/moment

favourite storyline(s): delinquents finding a way to live on the ground and mount weather!

Favourite moment: i don’t think i have one TBH

my first thoughts on the show

It was exactly what i was looking for; a post-apoc teen drama, a little corny, a little gritty. I enjoyed season 1, and then 2, but with the constantly rising stakes to absolutely obscene levels eventually, my interest dwindled. By season 4 there was an almost desolate feeling and all the potential this had was dead and buried. They could’ve gone so many ways, done so much more, but for reasons unknown they chose possibly the weirdest and least interesting route available. I really thought they’d exhausted all their story by the end of 4 and i was, of course, absolutely correct since s5 was…more of the same…a literal recycled storyline that had been done not once but twice before it. In season 1 and then again in season 2. Since joining tumblr and fandom and seeing things from a various new angles, reading of social implications and meta on how sections of the writing are flawed, i’ve crafted a more informed and complex opinion than i had as a casual viewer and now see most aspects of the show in a completely different light.

my thoughts now

I’m over it. I think it could be safe to say i hate what it became. Most of my opinions of it now are negative, or at the very least have a critical component to them. I haven’t genuienly enjoyed it since season four and it hasn’t been actually decent since season two. It has a lot of deeper issues engrained into it’s writing, and there was a before when you could criticise those choices and obvious flaws and still be able to enjoy the show as it’s own entity because it existed as one at that time. But now it feels like an empty shell void of all life. With how broken and goofy the writing has become i just can’t take it seriously anymore. Characterisation and consistency have been thrown out in favour of serving the plot many many times before, but season 6 brought this to a whole new low. Dialogue was clumsy and there was a LOT of information dumping, it focused much too heavily on new characters nobody cared about, things were swinging from one extreme to another in terms of character arcs (see: Octavia’s full redemption and transformation basically overnight, and Bellamy switching from set to commit genocide in Clarke’s honour and ‘[we let these people die because] it’s not my fault their delusional’ to ‘let’s do better for Monty i am suddenly King of morality’) and in relationships (see: Bellamy instantly forgiving Clarke and then abandoning everyone and everything to save her, meanwhile he’s demonising Octavia like he’s getting paid for it). The characters just aren’t people anymore, they’re wheels that move the plot forward (in any way that’s required regardless of whether or not it’s actually in line with canon), and let’s not even talk about the science that pushes the envelope too far and Clarke’s insane plot armour. I’ve beaten this rant to death at this point so I won’t get any more into it. But just know: what was once a genuine fondness of this show has turned poisonous since.

[lovelyfictional-imagines]

Me and You. (Twelfth Doctor x Reader)

This is my first explicit songfic, meaning it actually involves the song. Well, mostly. I had the idea while driving home this morning, and Twelve is currently the rabbit hole I’ve fallen into. Often I’ll be listening to the playlist I’ve put together for the Doctor, and I crave to write more songfics. Please let me know if you enjoyed this, if I did this right. I’m still extremely new to this.

The numbers 1-5 are different scenarios, I’ve read a lot of stories in this format and absolutely loved them, and will probably have more like this in the future. I’m better with many shorter stories. 

I swear there’ll be others, I actually have a Ten fic in the works right now. 

This was also written in maybe two sittings, so I do apologize if it’s inconsistent or not as well written. I’ll be back to edit it a few more times, I’m sure. 

Until next fic,

- Ashley

Song: Me and You by Jake Bugg

Word Count: 2697

All the time people follow us where we go We both should believe the path that we chose And I'll hold you with such delicacy No they won't catch you and me

 1.

He’d found her outside a strip mall, smoking. She was bleak, bleary, obviously having been beaten down by life thus far as she slouched against a metallic picnic table. The circles beneath her eyes were so dark they could’ve easily been mistaken for bruises.

“Did you know smoking is terrible for you?”

And suddenly he was there.

“Did you know I don’t give a shit?”

“Language! Good god, everyone here is so vulgar.”

“Well, you’re not wrong there. Apologies, then, it’s just been one of those days.”

“Looks more like one of those weeks in your case.”

A light glare was sent his way before she took another drag. Dropping it, she shrugged and scrambled on the table for it.

“You’re not wrong there, either.”

“What if I said I could take you away from all this and have you back in time for your shift?”

(E/C) irises swimming with uncertainty snapped in his direction, dropping her cigarette again, this time onto the pavement, in shock. She looked terribly unsure of him, and he couldn’t blame her. Here he was, a complete stranger, asking an exhausted looking young woman if she’d like him to take her away. “I’d say you’re mad. Unless you have some sort of funny time machine.”

“Don’t believe me, eh? Keep that thought in mind. Come with me.”

“Ah, that’s not suspicious now, is it? Older man coercing a young, vulnerable woman to follow him somewhere?”

He’d already leapt up and over the bench they’d been sitting on, striding off down the sidewalk.

“What’s your name anyway?” The cashier called.

“The Doctor. Coming?”

Rolling her eyes, she huffed in annoyance. Nevertheless, she followed him with a small smile on her face that managed to light up the rest of it. The confidence in his walk was a bit exaggerated, though she seemed to be so ecstatic that she didn’t seem to notice or care. A familiar blue police box came into view, and he approached it, tapping it with a certain fondness. Confusion spread over her worn down face.

“Now this really is concerning, I believe I should’ve been more careful from the start.”

“Oh calm down, don’t get your knickers in a twist. Have a look.”

Skeptically, she stepped forward, pushing the door open reluctantly. Moving inside, he heard a loud cry of shock, something along the lines of it being “bigger on the inside”. The Doctor chuckled to himself.

“Hasn’t gotten old yet.”

 It's all over all of the time And if you want to I won't mind Please don't leave it I don't know what to do No they won't catch me and you

 2.

Here they were, on a busy street on the edge of London. (Y/N) sat behind the wheel of her ancient canary-colored car, chewing her lip in anticipation. The Doctor sat adjacent to her, leaned back casually. His foot tapped impatiently, position slightly shifting every few seconds. Tension was thick in the dusty air.

“Well?”

“I said I thought I could drive. Don’t actually know if I can. Haven’t had much of a chance to.”

“Anyone can drive, it’s elementary. You’re just not.”

A glare was shot in his direction, causing him to snort. It was a mirror image of his, contorting her lovely face. He grinned knowing that he’d grown on her as much as she’d grown on him. Stuck to him, he’d often tell himself, knowing it was absolute rubbish.

“Come on, you can do it. If a moron can do it, so can you.”

A small fist flew across the front seat, shoving him playfully.

“Shut it, Doctor. I’m trying to drive now, and it could be detrimental to both of us if I’m irritated.”

The Doctor chuckled, watching her aggravated face behind his dark glasses. A small smile attempted to break her glowering countenance. At last it was triumphant, a shy, cheeky expression that he’d only seen directed at him. Gentle dustings of pink swept across her cheeks.

“Let’s go.”

Speeding along after some difficulty merging into traffic, they were silent. The Doctor had yelled at her and the other driver simultaneously. Refusing to argue and attempt to remain at a reasonable speed concurrently, (Y/N)’s face burned. All she could do is grumble beneath her breath and continue on until they were far out of the city, bumbling along the countryside in her yellow car.

“You know,” he began, voice softer than before. An attempt to wordlessly apologize for his previous action. “I once had a car of my own, quite a bit like this one, too. Same color, not as junky. I took great pride in it.”

(Y/N) laughed loudly, apparently thinking it a joke. Feeling quite indignant, he puffed up a bit at her chortles. “I did! Years and years ago when I wore a different face.”

“I’m sure you could actually drive it, hm?”

“You’d be surprised at the many things I can do, (Y/N). Driving happens to be one of them.”

“How about smiling more?”

At this he gave her the most obnoxious leer he could muster, emitting a loud, obviously fake, snicker. Once again she giggled uncontrollably at his antics, and he found himself easing into a comfortable titter. Then they grew still again, though it was a comfortable quiet. Looking over to his companion, her concentrated and radiant disposition filling the automobile, the Doctor found a sense of pride filling him at the human he’d stumbled upon.

 There are too many flashes and guards around me There is so little time and places to see And we can wait so patiently No, they won't catch you and me

 3.

Throughout every danger they’d faced together so far, the Doctor had never hesitated when he placed himself between it and his companion. Devotion made itself apparent not only in times of crisis, but moreso in the calmer moments, in the TARDIS. Anytime she’d needed help, even if it were reaching a shelf she’d have to scale in attempt to find whatever she was after. In moments of silence, when both were on opposite sides of the ship, he’d seek her out.

For months he fought it, refusing to go to her as often as he could. Why allow himself this? He’d been well-behaved, keeping his cool. Resisting would be a better word to describe his approach to his current feelings.

Feelings that had begun to extend, budding from their companionship in sarcasm and loneliness to something more... romantic, to his complete and utter trepidation. In those moments in the TARDIS, when there was something more in her eyes, something warm and inviting, his self-control was put to the ultimate test.

Seeing that silent plea, combined with the comforting heat of her room and the conflict in his hearts, caused him to shut himself off again. To push all of those vulnerabilities back into that metaphorical locked room he’d set aside with the label ‘too dangerous’. Too good, he often thought. Too whole for a broken man like him.

Whisking her across the galaxy to see things most humans wouldn’t ever be able to dream of brought him close to the breaking point every time. The astonishment across her soft features, the curiosity in her eyes, the mischievous curve of her lips. Knowing the unfiltered joy and wonder that filled her heart and mind was almost too much for him to bear. But it was worth it every time, anything was worth even a glance in his direction.

The Doctor felt like a lost dog, clinging to her and anything she was willing to give him emotionally. Any of her stories, recollections of her life before him, even the most mundane little quips, left him hanging on every word. Absorbing all of her voiced thoughts, debating with her, even flat out arguing with her, brought him closer. And it seemed to draw her closer, because the next time there would be more, even if an adjective or verb more, she’d oblige him.

He would wait. The Doctor could and would and probably had waited hundreds of lifetimes for something like he’d found in (Y/N). Different and similar to connections he’s made before, but unique all to herself.

 It's all over all of the time And if you want to I won't mind Please don't leave it I don't know what to do No they won't catch me and you

 4.

Often he’d catch (Y/N) eyeing him not-so-discreetly as she propped herself up in various odd positions on whatever she could fit on. Not that he minded, not at all. As long as they’d been traveling together now, it felt like part of their daily routine. Dancing around each other and their affections in some kind of clumsy ballet, too afraid to step independently but too brave to stray far from what they’ve learned.

The Doctor knew in his hearts of hearts that he’d never initiate. Never would he overstep that line, the invisible boundary that had been drawn around their relationship. He, who would go headfirst into unknown territory without a second thought, was terrified. Completely and utterly terrified at the potential mistake he could make. Another mistake in his existence that he wasn’t sure if he was willing to make.

So when their brief touches began to last more than a few seconds, when their eyes would meet and lock instead of darting away, he found peace in an internal resolution. He would lay in wait, wait until it was too much for her. She was so wonderfully human, trying to follow her mind but being driven by her passionate, whimsical heart. Any feelings she had towards him would emerge sooner or later, and if she chose to act on them.... he wouldn’t mind. Not at all.

Until then, their hands would intertwine, hugs would become less uncomfortable on his part, and faces would draw nearer for longer before they turn away. As long as he was near her, he wouldn’t quite mind the wait.

 All of these people want us to fail I won't let that happen no Just you believe me I'll hide you discreetly Discreetly from this cold world

 5.

Earth had been a cruel and unforgiving place for his young companion in her life prior to their meeting. Once he’d found her in tears, reflecting over a picture she’d dropped, (Y/N) poured out her heartaches on him. Before they’d met he would’ve run far when arms extended towards him, but now he hesitantly scooped her to him, trying to comfort her in any way.

The jobs she’d had barely made ends meet. When they met that day, almost an entire year ago, she’d been on her lunch break without anything to eat in sight. Sunken eyes had only reflected dull pain back at him. Only a smoke and a conversation, him sensing her desire to actually live and offering an out. He’d proved her wrong, and she hadn’t ever expressed the desire to go back. Not that he could blame her.

Unable to explain what troubled her, she left him with something he understood too well.

“I’ve done too many things, haven’t tried enough or tried too hard. And sometimes it smacks me right in the face.”

As she leaned into him, tears slowly beginning to dry, the Doctor felt his own pain. He’d spent centuries working through indescribable horrors of his own, still taking time even now to attempt to process them. Shadows of friends and foes crept behind him, always waiting. It was torture, almost, to know that this dependable, wonderful person he’d come to know was treated so terribly in her life before that she’d been willing to try any way to escape at the drop of a cigarette butt.

(Y/N) moved back to study his face. Watching with equal scrutiny, the Doctor observed her puffy (E/C) eyes, trembling (S/C) chin, and pouty chapped lips. That dreaded feeling blossomed in his chest at the misty abundance of affection in her features, even as her own emotional ailments afflicted her. During her own personal calamity, she still found ways to put him at ease with a silent affirmation of how much faith she had in him. That somehow he’d make things right, even if for a little while.

Even as she was completely blue, that terrifyingly airy feeling knocked the wind out of him. Realization poured through, filling any cracks of doubt that had previously served as an intentional protective barrier. It was true, true and real and paralyzing. Quickly he brought her back against his chest.

“Whatever you’ve done before doesn’t matter, it is what you choose to do now that does. And whatever you do, you will have a friend at your back. I swear it.”

Weak arms slithered around his waist, feeling her head caress his chest.

“Thank you, Doctor. For everything.”

Slowly he released her, and she stepped back and attempted to clean her face a bit. Feeling out of place, unsure of what to do, the Doctor remained where he stood until she initiated anything. Sentimentality was obviously not this body’s strong suit, though he wished to give more.

Her hand taking his own seemed to draw him from the recesses of his inner dialogue. A sweet smile was sent his way, brightening her rosy face. Making a mental note of how she looked at that particular time, he almost forgot what he intended to say. The Doctor sighed deeply, not entirely partial to the rush of solicitude through his veins that came with it. An easygoing smile finally planted itself on his thin mouth.

“Whatever it is, (Y/N), be it external or internal, I’ll support you to the best of my abilities. You have my word.”

Before he could properly appreciate the moment they were having, she was back. Swinging back into her heels, bouncing up on her toes, she hummed. Girlish excitement restored, determination to take on the universe and more.

“How about we find some adventure, eh?”

Returning to the noise, prepared to put their problems away for another day. The Doctor laughed at her spirit, glad to know she was bouncing back. Part of him knew she understood, at least somewhat, that he was trying his best.

“You’ve got moxie, I’ll give you that.”

“If we don’t start moving, I’ll give you a swift kick in the—“

Raising an owlish brow at her, she laughed out loud.

“C’mon Doctor, let’s go.”

“Alright, pottymouth.”

(Y/N) exited her room, the Doctor examining her as she left. Stretching his arms up and out, he rested his hands on the back of his head and exhaled loudly.

“What am I going to do with you, you peculiar girl?”

Following at his own pace, he trudged down the hall. The console room was a bit brighter; his companion was waiting patiently for him, plopped in yet another uncomfortable-looking position one set of steps. He approached her, standing near the command center, pressing buttons and pulling levers. “Where to?”

In her eyes he saw the entirety of the universe and its marvels, entirely awestruck by the impish expression she’d donned. Knowing the hunger for travel, for exploration, for knowledge, that she’d found within herself all too well, he was prepared to take her wherever her heart desired. To show her whatever would make her smile. The Doctor was completely at her mercy, on his knees to bring her joy.

“Anywhere.”

The TARDIS was off, rumbling and whirring like she always did. (Y/N) laughed out loud, watching the core with her refreshed fascination, burning brighter than the sun itself. The Doctor chuckled along with her, finding the answer to his self-imposed question that he had known all along.

“Everything.”

 It's all over all of the time And if you want to, I won't mind Please don't leave it I don't know what to do No they won't catch me and you No they won't catch me and you No they won't catch me and you

[leaf-writes]

Inside Eoberona

An Adventure in Blogging

Rating: G

Word Count: 1524

Summary: Fourteen-year-old Meli Malviya gets inspired to start blogging 

Trigger Warnings: very slight reference to abuse

Authors Note: I would just like to say that I have had this universe since 2014 and I am finally sharing it with the world! This is taking place in a fantasy/utopia/futuristic magic world thing so somethings might be a little different (i.e. social media/networks)

An Adventure in Blogging

Meli Malviya

8/4/PW14

            As the first term closes, students tend to rush to get the social media handles of their new friends if they have yet done so, as an attempt to keep up to date with one’s latest selfie or holiday overseas. The act of online stalking is not isolated to these adolescent individuals; plenty of adults partake in this strange and slightly intrusive practice. For that reason, I, Meli Malviya, have been requested by the masses to create a blog in which can be used to stalk and intrude into the lives of your heroes and government officials. The excitement of being potentially disowned and left to die delights me very much so. This —as one might insist of calling it— blog will consist of weekly posts and myself not talking like this at all, holy hell.

2/4/PW14

            Two days before school ends in the Malviya household is slightly crazy. As many know, my mother and I live right above my mother’s store, Satya’s Boutique. Around this time of year, we have many people come to get last minute altercations on some weird end of term party, to purchase some clothes for a holiday to who knows where along with regular shoppers. Luckily my mum is stinking rich and brought the biggest store she could find. As well as a whole mess, my dear friend Edvard Garcia turned 30 today. He’s freaking old. For those of you who do not know this guy, let me give y’all a mini, mini, mini-biography.

            Eddy boi is a Swedish mess who at the age of 16 was forced to drown his sister, Aurora Hansdotter (Y'all know her right? She’s bloody amazing) for some BS reason. No one knew that he had taken special precautions to save her life which comes into play two years later when he came here. What apparently happened was that his insane mother found out and tried to kill him too. She is insane I know, I guess that this is what happens when your husband died of smallpox when you had a two and four-year-old to look after in 17th century Sweden. For little under a year, everyone absolutely hated him, and that’s an understatement. Everyone except Eliza and Warda was giving him the silent treatment. This poor boy couldn’t even speak English, he had to have a translator hired because Aurora didn’t want to help him.

            Anyway, some dude named Charon Garcia heard some other dude crying. Being the blind dude he is, Charon went over to them with his adorable guide dog, Cerberus, and basically was like, “You Gucci mate?” Except he didn’t say that exactly. Since he’s so blind that even bats are shook, he did not know that this was eddy the shreddy. If he had this prior knowledge, he would not have approached him. After some conversation, explaining, more explaining to everyone this time, and the rest of the school year, Charon finally managed to propose to Edvard at the ripe old age of eighteen. They got married two years later and then four years went by the had a girl called angel and two years later they had another girl called Thalia.

            So, all last week my mum and I had been trying to find something totally amazing for Ed. I suggested some unsavory things and my mum hit me on the head. We eventually agreed on this rare Swedish book that he liked so much that somehow managed to come in time. But this wasn’t the only Swedish surprise.

            After school, we were gonna have this party thing at Aurora and Maeraka (genie of battle)’s house. So, at the end of the day, I rounded up Angel, Thalia, Filip, and Ana (Aurora and Maeraka’s kids) and caught the train to the house. When we got there everyone else (all the Garcia’s, the Baatjies, the royal family, Rachel Wilder and Giselle Blanchard) were there. The kids and I got changed out of our uniforms into more casual clothes and when we came back, Aurora left to go get something with Rose.

            They came back sometime later and holy macaroni, what they came back with left me shooketh. So turns out that somehow Rose was able to resurrect bloody Hans Noahsson. His faTHER I SWEAR TO GOD WHY CAN’T SHE DO THAT FOR ME HOLY CHICKEN FINGERS.

            As unreal as the scenario was, who of us really surprised? He can only speak Swedish so that should be fun, but he’s going to stay with Aurora and Maeraka because their house is huge, and Edvard’s is smaller than my will to live.

              There were too many tears and Hans is so sweet even if I couldn’t understand a word he said.

3/4/PW14

            This was the unofficial last day of school, and by that, I mean last day of classes. So many of you were asking me about the blog but this is a weekly thing, guys! And its more of a weekly diary I guess.

            Anyway, the only thing that happened today was Hans, Rory (Aurora), Filip and Ana coming to mum’s boutique and getting old Hans some clothing that isn’t waistcoats and clogs (having the latter kill my mother every time she needs to make some for either Eddy or Rory because they need some traditional Swedish outfits).

            Fun Fact: my mum speaks Swedish. I never knew that, but if you want to speak Swedish to Satya Malviya, don’t tell her I told you.

4/4/PW14

Wowzers. That’s an awful lot of fours.

             Children and teens alike were jumping for joy for the last day of school. Assemblies were held, people were bored, lockers were emptied, and Señora Octavia Garcia silently cried as she still had to spend time with her least favourite student (me), even though holidays were here. There’s no escape.

             After school, Octavia decided to take me, Filip, Ana, Angel, Thalia, Roxane + Laurent (Giselle’s kiddos), Hasna (Daughter of Fan, genie of the arts, and Fawdaa, genie of chaos) and Katherine to this pancake place (which you would see if you followed me on Echo’d you would already know this…) and it was actually pretty good.

             One last thing: Rory and King Sandu were having a handstand contest when I came to the castle today,,,, I don’t know why,,,

5/4/PW14

            With the first day of holidays came everybody’s least favourite celebration, my birthday! I know nobody actually cares, but hear me out because this is an experience.

            So, most of my friends are adults or midgets. Only like 3% of my friends are actually my age. Because of this, I do two things. One, I have a party (bowling or whatever) with my school friends, and then I hang out at the castle filming Jadine Baatjies try to summon spirits drunk.

            So here I am, in the rec room at the castle, same stuff as usual; Giselle is drinking wine straight from the bottle and staying completely sober, Lizzy and Dontae are doing paperwork, Rachel and Lola are trying to re-enact The Greatest Showman, Warda is trying to bring Sandu up to date with everything that he has missed (because he was kidnapped for like 27 years, remember?), Edvard and Aurora are trying to teach Hans English and the kids are being weird.

            Anyway, so I look over the room and Jadine is having a drinking contest with the Garcia twins and I’m confused? Because at the same time Jadine, Rose, and Octavia are trying to compete with statistics about how many dead people they have been able to “rise” and my mum is trying to keep the kids away from sharp objects and this is the funniest thing I have ever seen.

6/4/PW14

            Jadine kept messaging me about her hangover and Edvard just sent over a group chat that Charon in just lying head down in bed and apparently when Lizzy was trying to wake up Scylla she was in a similar position,,,

7/4/PW14

             I went over to Rory’s place for practice and if any of you guys swim then you’d know about the appetite that you build up afterwards is very large, of which mine was when I went inside after what felt like a million years of singing and swimming. To my delight and surprise, one Hans Noahsson had cooked a traditional Swedish meal (I forgot what it’s called) and it was really hecking good so that’s how my day went.

8/4/PW14

             Today was the music festival so that means me being forced to sing for like 10 hours around the entire. bloody. Country. So, I hoped y’all enjoyed that and on behalf of the Sirens of Eoberona and The Amjir Committee of Music, I would like to thank everybody for participating and that the money raised from various performances will be going towards helping rebuild Amjir’s temple after the incident.

             As I write this entire blog entry at 9:48pm, I would like to hope that everyone enjoys this, and this is what everyone meant. Next week will be something unexpected and I am very excited and y’all will be getting more than what you bargained for!

     ~Meli Malviya

[just-french-me-up]

Triptych

Enjoltaire Week | Day 1 | Painting

Summary:  Three portraits are discovered in a hidden cellar in Paris, all three dating back from the nineteenth century. What's weird is that the man in the portraits looks an awful lot like Enjolras. What's weirder is that the paintings are all signed "R."

Tags: Modern AU; Reincarnation AU; Rated G

Word count: 3.5k

READ ON AO3

"Remind me why anyone would choose to watch what is considered to be the worst movie in history?"

Enjolras sat on the couch and balanced a huge bowl of popcorn on his lap. Courfeyrac's picks for movie night were usually more mainstream and understandable. Well. As understandable as romantic comedies could be, but at least they didn't require much brain activity. At least it allowed Enjolras to switch off his brain and shove handfuls of popcorn into his mouth while wondering how heteronormativity and dumb misunderstandings had become such crowd-pullers.

"That's because it's an experience!" Courfeyrac argued, slumping on the couch next to Enjolras and seriously compromising the balance of the popcorn bowl. "As your best friend, I just can't let you die a Room virgin!"

"What's so great about it, anyway?"

"Everything! The acting is so bad! It's like... You know how people say that if you let monkeys in a room full of typewriters the monkey would eventually end up rewriting Shakespeare? Well switch the monkeys with aliens who only have a vague idea of how human interactions work and you've got The Room! It's flipping fantastic!"

Enjolras shrugged. The enjoyment of intrinsically bad media was beyond him.

"There are some really interesting studies about trash movies and their ironical audience, actually," Combeferre chimed in as he joined them in the living room. He brought heavy-looking pizza plates that he settled on the coffee table before settling next to Courfeyrac. "Something about collectively liking something so bad that it gets good."

"Exactly!" Courfeyrac exclaimed, triumphant. "So sit back and brace yourself for this absolute masterpiece."

He switched on the TV and started rummaging through the pile of DVDs to find the right one. Automatically, the first channel popped up on screen. The news were still on and a generic news anchor looked at the three of them in the eyes.

"Wait," Enjolras said before Courfeyrac could switch on the DVD player.

"And tonight we come back on an incredible discovering in Paris earlier today," the news anchor announced, "when three paintings were discovered in a cellar in the Latin Quarter. The three works of art allegedly date back from the nineteenth century and predate the Haussmanian renovations of the capital. For more on this story, we go to Olivier Barron in the Latin Quarter, Olivier?"

The three paintings appeared on screen. Silence fell on the living room, leaving nothing but the artificial chatter of the television. In his seat, Enjolras turned to stone.

"-Twitter already rushed to title the works names such as 'Apollo in Red'-"

"Enjolras..."

That jaw line. That nose. The same eye colour. Enjolras' throat tightened. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

"Holy shit," Courfeyrac whispered. "Enj, it's you!"

Enjolras shuffled some papers around, trying to get his hands on notes he had written down the night before, somewhere around his third cup of coffee o'clock. There were some points about the upcoming the labour reform he really wanted to discuss during the meeting, if only he could find the damn thing. A pat on his shoulder took him by surprise.

"I think you're looking for this," Combeferre said, handing him the very notes he was looking for. "I forgot to tell you I took it. I just added a few remarks."

'A few remarks' in Combeferre's vocabulary entailed enthusiastic and colourful highlighting and additional notes scribbled in the margins that were illegible, including to Combeferre himself. Still, two minds were better than one, and Combeferre's mind was an undeniable asset. Enjolras took the revised notes with a smile.

"Thanks, I'll read though them."

Combeferre nodded and took his seat between Courfeyrac and Feuilly. Enjolras was the only one standing at this point, towering over his notes and the various things he had brought with him. The chatter began to fade. They all turned their attention towards him. The meeting officially begun.

"Okay, guys, so I thought we could start things off with some details about the labour reform and how―"

"Er-Sorry," Courfeyrac cut off, "but aren't we going to talk about the fact that they found paintings that look exactly like Enjolras?"

His remark was met with a few raised eyebrows and confused looks. Enjolras nervously raked a hand through his hair. Courfeyrac had not let this go since the night before.

"Oh come on! It was all over the news! Didn't you see it?"

"Courf, I don't think it's―"

It was already too late. All the others had already taken their phones out. Enjolras stood there awkwardly while they checked the news, and even more awkwardly when their eyes went from the screens to him in shock. Joly's jaw dropped.

"Oh my god, Enjolras, it is you!" he exclaimed.

"There's even the mole on your shoulder!" Bahorel added.

"See? It's him, I'm telling you!"

Emboldened by the number of allies on his side, Courfeyrac started listing the similarities between the painting and Enjolras, much to the latter's dismay. Why did it matter? Maybe he had a nineteenth-century look alike who had the same mole at the same place. So what? Enjolras let out a long sigh that was immediately drowned in the voices rising from the table. He shared a look with Combeferre, who picked up on his mood.

"Okay, but can we try to focus on the meeting?" Combeferre tried, rushing to Enjolras' rescue.

Almost like reprimanded students, the rest of les Amis sat back properly on their chairs and quietened down. Enjolras nodded in Combeferre's direction as a 'thank you'.

"So, as I was saying―"

"It's signed R," Feuilly said, deadpan.

"What?"

"It's signed 'R.'," he repeated. "It written right here, 'all three works are signed by the same hand, an unknown painter only identified by the letter R.' R. Like Grantaire."

There was electricity in the air. All eyes turned towards Grantaire, who looked as stunned as the rest of them. The room grew suddenly silent.

"What?" Grantaire asked, shuffling uncomfortably on his chair.

"I mean, you have to admit it's weird," Bossuet said.

Grantaire pointedly avoided looking at Enjolras in the eyes, running his hand through his curls. That was a lot of coincidences, even for Enjolras. For a second, his mind when for outlandish scenarios about how Grantaire could have planted those paintings there for whatever reason, before his logic took over. No. That cellar had been buried underground for more than a century. There was no way for Grantaire to know it was there! And experts had already dated the paintings!

Enjolras cleared his voice.

"Grantaire, did you somehow go back in time to paint me before abandoning those paintings in a random cellar?"

Grantaire snorted.

"No."

"That's what I thought," Enjolras said, giving Courfeyrac a meaningful look. "Now, if that's settled, can we go back to the labour reform and how it's going to affect us all?"

The rest of the meeting went without a hitch, with the usual amount of wits, snark, and dedication Enjolras cherished in his friends. Joly had been in charge of writing down all the ideas and suggestions for them to use as a starting point the following week. All in all, an evening well spent.

They all lingered in the backroom of the Musain for a while, talking about more casual topics while they stacked the chairs against the wall. The room emptied slowly. Enjolras was putting his things away in his satchel when Jehan came up to him.

"Hey. Can we talk?"

They looked a little hesitant. Enjolras smiled at them in an attempt to put them at ease.

"Sure. What's up?"

"It's about that thing with the paintings."

Oh. Clearly something in his expression had changed, because Jehan rushed to add:

"Just hear me out. It's just―Listen, okay? Is it okay if we sit?"

Enjolras nodded and sat on one of the few remaining chair. Jehan took another and sat across from him. They looked very serious, all of a sudden.

"Okay, so when I was in highschool, I participated in that poetry contest my school organised every year. So I wrote my poem and submitted it, but it was denied. Plagiarism. Even though I'd written it all myself. I didn't get it, so I asked what the original poem was from, just to see it for myself. It was from an old poetry collection from the nineteenth century, a book that had been sleeping in the Parisian archives for decades. And my poem was in there. Word for word. And the rest of the book was just... me. My style. It was like an out of body experience."

Enjolras listened intentely. He didn't know what to think about it. It was too weird. Stuff like that... It was only weird coincidences, right? What was it that Courfeyrac said about monkeys and typewriters? Still, he could not deny the sick feeling weighing on his stomach.

"Do you know who wrote the poetry collection?"

Jehan shook their head.

"I asked, but the people at the archives just told me it was seized propriety from someone who had committed treason. Then maybe someone deemed the poetry good enough to archive it. There was no name on it. The last poem was written in 1832, and the pages are all blank, so I guess the poet was arrested around that time."

"Sounds like a free thinker," Enjolras smiled. "Maybe you have more in common than poetry. So you think it's a similar thing? That it's a coincidence?"

"I don't know," Jehan sighed. "But it's weird, right? I mean surely it means something. Stuff like that wouldn't randomly pop up unless there was an explanation behind it, even if it's not a scientific one."

That where Jehan differed from Enjolras. While Jehan accepted the metaphysical and the paranormal as a natural aspect of life, Enjolras' mind favoured more rational interpretations. It was weird, for sure. But people simply did not exist in two timelines. That didn't happen. They would know about it by now if it existed.

Enjolras rubbed his neck. It was stiff from staying up too late doing research on that fucking labour reform.

"I don't know what to tell you, Jehan. It's just beyond my understanding, you know? Maybe someone really looked like me, two hundred years ago. It happens. People have look alike, even today. As for the poem... I just don't know."

Jehan smiled at him softly and rubbed his shoulder.

"It's getting late, Enj'. Courf and Ferre are waiting for you. Get some rest, okay?"

"Thanks, Jehan. I'll try."

When Enjolras went to bed that night, he dreamt of a book of blank pages, and when he looked down, he had a rose in his breast pocket. The colour had bled onto his shirt, and the stain kept growing, and growing, and growing.

When he woke up, he could still smell a hint of gunpowder.

The following days were spend avoiding the news, which was highly inconvenient because a) Enjolras liked to keep himself informed and b) you never know how much news exposure there is until you try to avoid it. Enjolras just couldn't bear to see his face on the screen, or whoever's face it was. It freaked him out. It would have freaked anyone out. He didn't even know how Jehan coped with the fact that there was a book out there that mirrors their lyricism.

Eventually, he resorted to studying in his room, in the hope of avoiding the clutter of thoughts that raged in his mind. It's nothing, his reason kept telling him. In two centuries, at least two people were bound to look alike.

Still, he couldn't focus. He kept rereading the same sentence from his textbook over and over, none of it making much sense to a very noisy mind. Frustrated, Enjolras snapped the book closed and leant back against his chair. On his desk, his laptop was open on the google search page. He hesitated. Reason held back his hand, but another voice whispered to his ear. What if there was really something going on? Curiosity killed the cat, reason retorted. Enjolras took a deep breath.

Fuck it.

A quick search informed him that the paintings were being studied by experts in Paris, so that they could properly date it. A website had uploaded close up photographs of details, ranging from the golden laurel wreath crowning the model's head to his beauty marks. An uncomfortable feeling weighed on Enjolras' stomach. Even the details were uncanny.

The signature was studied under every angle, with matching hypothesis about who the painter could have been according to the loop of the R. People had really spent time on this. Enjolras was a stranger to art history and discoveries, so perhaps those paintings were a gold mine for people who worked in that field. Perhaps it was their Howard Carter discovering Tutankhamun's tomb moment.

He went back to the google homepage and typed "1832 France." The first results mentioned something about a cholera epidemic. Enjolras kept scrolling until something caught his eye. Republican Insurrection in Paris, 1832. Jean Maximilien Lamarque. He clicked the wikipedia link and started reading. Barricades, students, National Guard, Faubourg Saint-Martin... His eyes were glued to the screen.

That's something I could see myself participate in, Enjolras thought, before the uneasy feeling overwhelmed him again. That event felt too close for comfort. Yet, Enjolras kept on reading.

A knock on the door made him jump. He almost knocked his chair over, and himself with it. The sky had gone dark outside, and Enjolras's eyes had the greatest difficulty to adjust to the darkness. Someone switched the lights on.

"Are you okay?" Combeferre's voice asked.

"Yeah. I've just been staring at the screen for too long," Enjolras said, rubbing his eyes.

Though blurry, his vision got slightly better. For one thing, he could see Combeferre standing by the door. He was holding steaming mug in each of his hands.

"Is that coffee?"

"Infusion, actually," Combeferre smiled. "I came to see if you wanted one. You've been in here for hours, we were starting to get a little worried."

"I'm fine. I was just reading stuff."

Enjolras scratched his scalp and lifted his arm to accept Combeferrre's plant water. It wasn't coffee, but he had to admit he was parched. Combeferre sat on the bed next to him.

"Anything interesting?"

"Just history stuff. Very educational."

Enjolras closed the various tabs he had opened on the June Rebellion, accidentally missing the one about the three paintings. "Apollo in Red." The name seemed to have stuck.

"I thought you weren't interested in those," Combeferre pointed out, taking a sip out of his mug.

"I don't. I mean, I do but it's not... It's weird, right? I keep telling myself that it's not weird and that those kind of coincidences happen all the time, but it's still weird."

"Well it doesn't happen every day, that's for sure."

There was a moment of silence during which Enjolras sighed and dragged his hand across his face. His mind was buzzing.

"You look like you could use a break," Combeferre said, giving his shoulder a light squeeze. "Come. Courf is making dinner."

Enjolras nodded slowly. Maybe he did need a break. He followed Combeferre to the kitchen, holding his warm mug against his chest. In his room, Apollo in Red shone in the dark.

A few weeks passed. Enjolras still heard about Apollo in Red here and there, but it was quickly replaced by other, fresher stories. His heart still made a double back-flip when he heard that the experts had situated the completion of the pieces around the 1820s early 1830s. After that, he did his best to direct his mind towards the future to avoid dwelling on the distant past. Whatever happened to that sitter or the poet of Jehan's book, they were long gone. There was no time like the present.

Yet, in spite of his best efforts, Enjolras couldn't seem to escape the past. One morning, Courfeyrac presented him with a museum ticket, sliding the piece of paper across the breakfast bar.

"Thank you?" he said, a little confused. And sleepy.

"They're putting the paintings on display today," Courfeyrac explained. "Now you can see them from up close."

Enjolras' gaze went from Courfeyrac to the ticket. It was too early for this. He didn't even know if he wanted to be awake right now.

"Or you can just go to the museum after class," Courfeyrac shrugged, since Enjolras hadn't said anything. "For fun. Or whatever you go to museums for. Elevate your understanding of humanity, or some shit."

Enjolras let out a hoarse chuckle in his mug.

"I guess I'll consider that as a cultural outing. Thanks, Courf."

He carried the ticket around in his wallet for the rest of the day. By the end of it, Enjolras had forgotten up to its existence. It's only when he looked for his métro pass that he noticed the piece of paper stuck between his ID and his insurance card. The museum was only three stations away. For a minute, Enjolras stood there, debating whether or not he wanted to dive head first into the uncanny and the unexplainable. He looked at his watch. The museum was closing in an hour. The past can't hurt you, he thought as he got into the coach, waiting through the three stations.

There weren't as many people at the museum as he had expected. Perhaps because closing hour was slowly but surely ticking by. Enjolras didn't need to look for the painting for long. They had made sure to guide people right to the jewel of the exhibition. As Enjolras entered the oval room where the paintings were kept, his attention wasn't directed to the paintings, but to a familiar face, standing a few yards away.

Grantaire.

Enjolras' heart did a somersault. There was something about seeing Grantaire here, right next to Apollo in Red, but Enjolras couldn't quite pin point it. One of his hands  held nervously on to the strap of his satchel as he came closer.

"Hey," he said, trying to sound casual, though the atmosphere didn't quite work in his favour. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Well, apparently I painted these, so I thought I might as well go and see them. My first exhibition. It's a very emotional moment."

Enjolras could tell he was joking, or endeavouring to. Maybe that's how he dealt with the uncanny and the unexplainable. On the wall, one of the paintings stared back at him. It was like looking in a mirror, but with a 180 year reflection delay. Enjolras lowered his eyes, stared down by his own image.

"Did Jehan tell you about their poem? The one that got denied for their poetry contest?"

Grantaire nodded, still looking at the paintings.

"Do you really thing it's remotely possible that this is me?"

"Maybe," Grantaire shrugged. "Why not?"

"Because it doesn't exist! It just doesn't happen like that. There's no way that could be me. I'm me, I am one person."

Voicing all the thoughts and doubts that had been reeling in his mind for so long felt liberating, though he had to keep his tone in check. Grantaire smirked at him.

"Now who's the skeptic, Apollo?"

"You can't be serious. It doesn't make sense."

"We're on a blue ball adrift in the universe, rotating around a giant ball of fire that will swallow us all one day. Nothing makes sense. Me painting you almost two centuries ago makes more sense than that."

Enjolras opened his mouth, but realised he had nothing to say to that. Yes. Maybe things didn't make sense. Maybe trying to make sense of it didn't make sense. He took a couple steps back and sat on a plastic bench. Grantaire followed him.

"So what if this is actually me? What does that mean?"

Grantaire shrugged.

"We may never know. But I have to say, my shading game was on point on that one."

"It's very beautifully done indeed," Enjolras agreed, giving him an amused look.

"Thank you."

"So that means we were close, right? If I sat for one of your pieces. Well. Three of your pieces."

He didn't really know if he was joking in all good fun or actually talking seriously anymore. For some reason, it felt right.

"Close enough for you to accept being drapped naked in a red sheet. It'd say that's pretty fucking close."

"How close?"

"Very close."

As close as they were now. Enjolras realised his hand was almost touching Grantaire's. To his own surprise, he found that he didn't mind it. On the contrary. That too, felt right.

"How much do you know about the June Rebellion?" Enjolras asked.

"What I've read online, why?"

"Well, I thought maybe you'd like to hear about it. It's all fascinating stuff. Maybe around a coffee, or something?"

He barely recognised the chirp in his own voice. Grantaire looked at him, as though he couldn't believe the words Enjolras had uttered. His face softened a second later.

"Yeah. Coffee sounds nice."

[salarta]

X-Men Blue #11 Thoughts

It’s that time again. I’m going broader this time. Saying thoughts about the book as a whole too.

In all honesty, I’m pretty bored with the book. The primary reason I read it is because Polaris is on it.

There’s just flat out too much emphasis on alternate universe characters. Way, way, way too much. Bunn takes extra time to explain who these characters are this time, but it doesn’t really matter. Most people are going to think there’s no real point cause they aren’t going to matter after Blue. Just look at the three AU mutants that showed up on All-New X-Factor #2, as part of Quicksilver’s story. If they’ve been up to anything since 2014, I have no idea what it even is.

In the hierarchy of comic book characters, AU characters are considered pointless unless you’re really deeply committed to a specific character. They’re not the “real,” 616 versions of these characters.They’re going to go away and be completely irrelevant some day. Rachel Grey/Summers works because she’s the child of two core X-Men, there’s no 616 counterpart to her, and she was one of the early ones. Characters like this Colossus knight, Blood Storm and Jimmy don’t have that.

AU characters work for brief arcs. They work for entirely self-contained stories. They don’t work as the core theme of a committed ongoing book. They’re a pretty good example of the pitfalls of being a hardcore fan and making comics. Things you geek about may be things casual readers don‘t really care about.

It also pisses off a LOT of people who are fans of characters that aren’t getting used. All these storylines about AU characters are storylines that COULD have been traded for ones featuring characters that are largely ignored. As a Polaris fan, if she wasn’t being used in any comics and this was happening, I’d be absolutely pissed. I’d be pointing at X-Men Blue as evidence of Marvel being so awful that they think even temporary AU characters are more deserving of use.

If this looks in any way like an attack on X-Men Blue, then I just want to emphasize that’s not my intent. I’m just trying to explain what a lot of fans must be thinking and feeling even if they don’t outright say it. The first step to making sure things work out well is to know where a problem is so it can be fixed.

I also generally get the feeling Bunn is uncomfortable with the fluffy happy teen O5. I get the feeling he’s more comfortable with dark, rough, edgy characters and storylines, and he’s trying to bring more of that into the book cause it’s his natural element.

This isn’t a dig on him. All writers are more comfortable with some scenarios than others. It’s why a lot of writers fall back into old habits of how to treat characters, what storylines they pursue, etc. Bunn’s comfort area is dark and rough stuff. There’s nothing wrong with having a comfort area. But it does mean doing stuff outside it is more difficult, and there’s a tendency to try to bring in comfortable stuff to make it easier.

On to other things.

The Edgar Rice Burroughs reference is both good and bad. It’s a reference that makes sense for Jean Grey to make given her original time period. I get the impression Bunn is having fun with the writing there, and that’s always a good thing. On the other hand, it’s a reference most people aren’t going to catch. I actually had to look up who Edgar Rice Burroughs is to understand the reference, and I think I’m atypical in a willingness to do that. This is a case where I think a different reference, even if it was a modern one, would’ve worked better.

Jean Grey showing more variety with her powers is good here, between hallucinations and the TK bumpers. I know some people have complained about her not being creative enough with her powers. This issue showed she can do more than telepathy and throwing things around.

On that note, would just like to note as a Polaris fan that Lorna could do the same things if Marvel was willing to acknowledge the full extent of what can be done with electromagnetism. Just throwing that out there.

The line “lemonade from lemons.” Entirely personal thought horning in, I would’ve liked ‘demonade from demons’ more. There’s nothing wrong with the original line. It’s perfectly fine. I just felt it could’ve used some playfulness.

Also, Jean asking Scott what’s wrong toward the end. This is probably nitpicking. I know Jean explains about how they need to make mental partitions and all, and reading between the lines, I’m sure this was a sign of Jean setting one up to avoid picking up Scott’s thoughts. It still irked me and felt like she should’ve known anyway.

Now for a couple Polaris-specific things.

The vents (or whatever the word is) they’re in, I feel Lorna in particular has much more that she’d contribute to it given how much loss and pain she’s endured. In all honesty, I doubt that will be acknowledged. Everyone at Marvel likes to pretend she’s a white as snow Xavier type that’s never endured any trauma or suffering. I don’t know if it’s executive/editorial mandate (probably is) to ignore the core of who Lorna is, or if it’s various creative types doing it, but it’s annoying and I don’t expect it to change here. It’d be really nice for things to work otherwise.

As far as Lorna (and Magneto, and Danger) having been beaten by Madelyne Pryor and them, it’s fine here. Nothing wrong with characters getting beaten by other characters, and I appreciate that it happened off panel so there’s no arguments about it. But, general warning: Polaris (and the others, really) being beaten like this should be rare. Do it too much and it not only makes a mockery of the characters, but for this book, it raises the question of how they can even pretend to be in a position to mentor/teach the O5. Jean and Cyclops at least got out alive, after all. What do they have to teach the O5 if they can’t protect themselves and need rescuing all the time?

Lastly, Blood Storm. I'll just get it out in the open: I know she’ll be sticking around. I hope Bunn is better about having Polaris and any version of Storm on the same team/book together than Claremont was. I’m a lot more open to Storm and Lorna interaction than with Havok. I’m willing to give it a shot cause the hate-a-thon got dropped after Claremont left, and more emphasis was put on Storm’s value in her own right than in tearing down Lorna to do it. But, I’m still cautious on this point.

All I’ve got to say for now.

[edenfalling]

[Fic] “A Bit of Hot Water” - Enchanted Forest Chronicles

wistfulmemory said: Let's go with Daystar and Shiara, Pipes and Beer, and the results of Shiara not quite being finished with her training with Kazul. (4,350 words)

Note: I only promised 250 words. This is, shall we say, slightly longer than that. *sheepish* (It also has nothing to do with beer and only tangentially deals with pipes, but the central gimmick is what jumped immediately to mind upon reading the prompt, and I think you can still tell how I got from the bingo square to the fic scenario.)

--------------------------------------------- A Bit of Hot Water ---------------------------------------------

Six months into Shiara's term as Kazul's princess (or apprentice -- which wasn't exactly the correct term either, since she wasn't studying to become either a dragon or a king, but felt less presumptuous than claiming to be royalty), she insisted that Daystar come visit her for a change.

"So long as you're willing to make all the diplomatic arrangements yourself, I have no objection," Kazul said when Shiara presented her demand.

"Diplomatic arrangements?" Shiara repeated with a frown. Nightwitch, sitting attentively on a nearby end table, curved her tail up in a supportive question mark.

Kazul smiled. "You have no official government position, and so can travel as you like. Daystar is the crown prince and heir apparent of the Enchanted Forest, and has to give notice before entering other kingdoms unless he either wants to be terribly rude or is excused from normal protocol because he's on a quest. Visiting you does not count as a quest."

"Oh," Shiara said. "Not even if I write the invitation as a riddle and lay a cunning trap outside the cave door?"

"Not even then, although now that you suggest it, I believe both riddle-notes and cunning traps are skills worth perfecting. I'll add them to your lesson schedule for the coming month."

"But--!" Shiara said, and then managed to clamp her mouth shut before the more detailed (and ruder) part of her protest could escape. After a moment she let her outrage hiss out between her clenched teeth as smoke and steam.

"Excellent progress," Kazul said. "Now go find Roxim and tell him I said it's time for you to learn how to arrange visits from foreign dignitaries."

Shiara spun on her heel and stomped toward the inner entrance to the royal caverns, which led into the confusing and only partially-mapped network of natural and artificial tunnels that honeycombed the Mountains of Morning. Tiny sparks leapt upward from each strike of her heels against the stone, until she realized Nightwitch was pouncing on each one in turn which was so ridiculously cute she couldn't maintain her indignation.

"I was enjoying being upset," she grumbled to her cat.

Nightwitch merely twined around Shiara's left ankle and purred smugly until Shiara gave in and lifted the cat to ride on her shoulder. "Better," Nightwitch said.

"You're a horrible bully," Shiara told her cat, but it was hopeless: they both knew she didn't mean it.

---------------

The trouble with asking Roxim for help, of course, was that when he committed to a goal, he sometimes went a bit overboard. In this case, he insisted that Shiara's first attempt at arranging a formal diplomatic reception had to pull out all the stops. "Start big!" he said. "After that, everything else will be easy, but if you start small and work up, you'll get nervous every time you run into a new level of formality or complication. Hrm. I wonder, should we invite a handful of Frost Giants for the same evening, and that questing Duke from Ashedown, and maybe the ambassador from Veritand...?"

He also refused to let her borrow Balimor's cauldron of plenty. "No cheats! Besides, a princess worth her name ought to know how to manage staff, and thanks to Cimorene we found a few catering companies willing to send a few cooks here on short notice, provided we pay sky-high. Can't get any waitstaff or cleaners, though. They get all twitchy about spending time around dragons, couldn't say why."

And so, in the brief moments when Shiara wasn't lugging food and dishes around, she ended up tucked beside Kazul at one end of an enormous table, big enough to hold twenty dragons per side, with Daystar seated all the way at the far end, between Roxim and a pair of rather confused siblings from South Wolf River who'd arrived slightly early for the annual discussion of water rights between their country and the dragons, and had been promptly roped into the banquet.

On the one hand, nothing went disastrously wrong, and by the end of the banquet various guests had begun to drift off with members of other delegations in ways that suggested intense political negotiation. On the other hand, Shiara had been reduced to communicating (badly) with Daystar via shrugs, exaggerated eyebrow gestures, and brief inquiries about whether he wanted more sauce on his roast duck, which was not at all what either of them had wanted from this visit.

Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), Roxim was also an old friend of Queen Cimorene, and had consequently gotten some... well, not necessarily inaccurate, technically speaking, but definitely too firm ideas about Shiara's relationship with Daystar. And so immediately after the dessert course was finished, Roxim nudged Daystar (which, given the sharp edges of dragon scales, was a bit hard on his sleeve) and winked, and gestured with a single claw toward the wheeled cart where Shiara was loading the used dishes for removal to the banquet chamber's attached kitchen, Nightwitch perched somewhat precariously on her shoulder.

"But oughtn't I remain until Kazul dismisses the guests?" Daystar protested.

"Don't be ridiculous!" Roxim said in a terrible approximation of a whisper. "That won't be for hours yet, and young love should have a chance to flourish! You can think of it as strengthening the alliance between the Mountains of Morning and the Enchanted Forest, if you really want to be as much of a stuffed shirt as your grandfather."

The siblings from South Wolf River were politely attempting to hide their smiles.

Face crimson, Daystar rose from his seat and fled.

---------------

"I didn't ask for help with the dishes," Shiara said when Daystar slunk into the massive kitchen. "I may not be able to work all the charms in this room, but I'm perfectly capable of using soap and a cloth and my own two hands."

"Though I don't know why you'd want to," Nightwitch muttered from atop a row of cabinets, well away from the clutter. "Water. Eurgh."

"I know you don't need my help," Daystar said with a terribly earnest expression. "But the work will go faster with both of us pitching in, and the sooner we're done, the sooner we can go somewhere less overwhelming. And I think Roxim might eat me if I try to return to the banquet. He was very insistent that I follow you."

It was so much harder to argue with him when he had a reasonable point -- even harder when the person she really wanted to shout at was Roxim. Shiara huffed and turned back to the cart of dirty dessert plates, which she was unloading onto the counter beside the sink (the sink itself, of course, was already full of dishes from the previous courses, to say nothing of the cooking pots and utensils). "I'll wash. You dry."

"Are you sure it wouldn't be more efficient the other way around?" Daystar ventured. "Considering...?" He sketched a vague shape that might, if someone squinted and gave him the benefit of the doubt, look like a flame rather than a half-naked woman.

"Considering...?" Shiara repeated in a frosty tone. Above her, Nightwitch casually extended her claws and began sharpening them against the cabinet corner.

"Um. Fire produces hot air, which is the basis for most drying charms?"

"And that would be lovely, until I yelled at you and set all the dishtowels on fire. No, I'll wash. It's not as if hot water isn't equally useful for cleaning."

Daystar conceded the point, retrieved a dishtowel from a nearby hook, and tossed it neatly across his shoulder. Then he began clearing counter space on the far side of the sink -- "For the clean dishes," he said in response to Shiara's challenging look. "Since I don't know where they belong and I'd hate to disorder somebody else's kitchen."

"We'll figure it out together," Shiara said as she turned the sink tap and reached under a precarious pile of pots in search of the drain plug. Daystar made a faint noise of surprise, and she twisted to glare at him. "Did you think this was Kazul's normal kitchen? I've only been in here twice before today. It's not even technically part of the royal caverns -- just a place anyone can reserve if they're hosting a large gathering."

"I'm sorry for assuming," Daystar said. "These caves are arranged very differently from a castle, but dragons do tend to be solitary and territorial--"

"Like cats, and firewitches, and other sensible people," Nightwitch interjected.

"--so I suppose it makes more sense for them to keep a separate public area than for any individual dragon, even the king, to maintain a large household," Daystar finished. He glanced upward. "Have I offended your cat?"

"Ask her yourself; she's not deaf," Shiara snapped, irritation coiling in her chest like a bed of disturbed coals. "Meanwhile, I suppose if you were less of a reckless idiot, you would have asked your mother what living with dragons is really like before coming to visit their country. But apparently not." She shoved the plug into the drain and began rubbing soap into her dishcloth.

Daystar set down a colander with a bang. "I have asked! Mother has told me all kinds of things! They're just not the kind of things that involve maps and floor plans, and I think it's a bit much to assume hearing about a place can substitute for living there."

Shiara scrubbed viciously at a bit of blackened chicken on a roasting tray. "Oh, I see. She's told you prince things."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"And anyway, you might also have thought to ask me about my life instead of spending all our visits and letters going on about magic and manners and--"

"I do! I did! Please stop insinuating that I look down on you," Daystar said, polite to the end even in the middle of a fight, and somehow that snapped the last thread holding Shiara's temper in check.

She did manage not to focus her haywire magic on him. Instead, a hot, tangled burst of power rushed from her hands into the sink. The water began to boil, and something deep in the pipes clanged ominously.

"Shiara?" Daystar asked, moving to stand at her shoulder and peer worriedly downward. "I'm sorry if I've made you feel--"

The pipes clanged again. Shiara tugged Daystar more firmly behind her and began to back away, hands raised on the off chance that her magic might shield them both against her inadvertent spell, whatever it had been. "It's not your fault, I'm just in a bad mood because of Roxim and I'm sorry I took it out on you, please get out of here before the sink tries to--"

A geyser of boiling water, decades of congealed grease, and the peculiar black gunk that grows in uncleaned drains shot upward, hurling a fountain of kitchenware around the room. Metal clanged, porcelain cracked, and glass shattered amidst a rain of knives, forks, and gooey food scraps. Shiara ducked and wrapped her arms over her head, hoping she'd survive.

Eventually the noise died away to echoes, and then to nothing. Shiara lowered her arms and cautiously opened her eyes.

The kitchen looked like the aftermath of a magical duel, except for a suspiciously untouched bubble around her and Daystar.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm very glad that you apologized right before the sink exploded," Daystar said in a shaky voice. "Um. What should we do?"

"We leave," Shiara said as firmly as she could. "I'll write a note on the door telling everyone else to keep out, and ask Kazul for advice in the morning."

"Are you sure that's--"

"Now."

Shiara grabbed Daystar's hand and tugged him across the slimy, glass-strewn minefield masquerading as a kitchen floor. Nightwitch slunk out of the cupboard where she'd taken refuge and followed, yowling in protest at every drop of grease or shard of glass that dared to touch her fur.

As Shiara stopped to write a message in flaming letters on the door (one of the few spells she had learned to make work reliably over the past six months), she spotted Roxim leaning his head around the arched entrance to the banqueting cavern. He saw her hand still entwined with Daystar's (which was only to make sure he wouldn't try to go back into the kitchen and start cleaning!) and showed all his sharp silver teeth in an oddly avuncular smile.

"Enjoy your evening!" Roxim said in a badly modulated whisper. "I'll keep Kazul busy for another hour or two." Then he winked.

Shiara lost control of her spell and barely managed to put out her finger before she set the door itself on fire.

She and Daystar walked back to Kazul's caverns in hideously embarrassed silence, trailed by Nightwitch's gleeful feline schadenfreude.

---------------

When they reached Shiara's rooms (a pair of smallish caves next to the royal library), Nightwitch took one look around, made a noise that wasn't quite a word but which Shiara had decided probably translated to "Humans!" and excused herself to go groom her paws back to some semblance of order.

Meanwhile Daystar and Shiara stood frozen just inside the door, attention caught by the neatly-laid table in the center of the public cave: a bowl of strawberries, a bowl of cream, a positively sinful chocolate cake, a bottle of very expensive brandy, two snifters, and a vase of roses with a lit candle at its base, all on a cloth of fine red linen.

"I think Roxim may have formed a slightly inaccurate picture of our relationship," Daystar ventured after a minute of silence that somehow managed to be even more embarrassed than the silence in which they had walked away from the banquet hall.

"That was obvious an hour ago," Shiara said. "What I want to know is how he got all this set up. The doorway is too small for dragons to get through, and the catering chefs' contract specifically said they couldn't be required to go anywhere except the kitchens."

"Does he have a princess?"

Shiara shook her head. "He might have borrowed someone else's, though. Maybe more than one -- I know Menolyne is the best baker, but Dorimund is the best at decorating a room. Ooh, and now they'll gossip about us forever, even more than they already gossip about me because I'm a firewitch and a volunteer instead of an actual captive princess."

"I could try to talk them around," Daystar offered. "If they're so hung up on birth, they might listen to me even though they're too rude to listen to you."

"I can solve my problems myself!" Shiara said. Then she took a deep breath, turned to shut her door, and counted to ten. "But thank you for the offer," she added, and almost meant it.

(The most annoying thing about having to be polite all the time was that it had started to become a habit, and lately habit had started to occasionally become sincere. Shiara felt she had been tricked into becoming a different person, and she especially resented that this new version of herself seemed to be happier than the old one. So what if she'd felt angry and trapped all the time! Those were her feelings, and nobody had any right to pull them out of her grip before she was ready to let go.)

"You're welcome," Daystar said, still staring at the table. "Um. It seems ungrateful not to at least try the cake, after people went to the bother of making it for us."

Shiara looked at the cake. It was very tempting.

"Fine," she said. "We'll eat the cake. We can even try the brandy. But if you get too drunk to walk to your own cave -- or if Roxim decides to lurk in the corridor and shoo you back here -- you'll be sleeping in the armchair with the tablecloth for a blanket. Understood?"

"Of course," Daystar said, and walked forward to pull out one of the chairs for Shiara, because of course he did.

Shiara let him push her chair in to the table, but she refused to either serve him cake or let him try to serve her. They each had two perfectly good hands, so they would each cut their own slice and pour their own brandy, or else. She dumped a generous blob of cream and a full spoonful of strawberries on her cake before sinking her fork into the dark, chocolate confection.

It really was delicious. She'd have to remember to compliment Menolyne the next time they ran into each other, blast it all.

But not until after she fixed the kitchen.

Across the table, Daystar also seemed to be enjoying his cake, though he was less enthusiastic about the brandy. "It makes me sneeze," he said when Shiara raised an eyebrow at the face he pulled after trying a sip. "Do you have any water I could drink instead?"

Shiara rolled her eyes and finished chewing her latest bite of cake. "Not here. Kazul's kitchen is three arches to the right, past the library and the entrance to the treasure vaults. Get some yourself."

Daystar toyed with his fork instead of standing. After a moment, he said, "I still feel bad leaving that mess in the public kitchen. You will let me help clean it up in the morning, right?"

Shiara rolled her eyes again. "I don't see why you care, but fine. You can help. It would be just like you to have an extensive background in dish repair and plumbing."

"I didn't grow up in a palace. In fact, I've probably washed more dishes than you have. That was one of my jobs before Antorell found Mother and she sent me off with the sword," Daystar said. Then he paused, fork hovering an inch over the remnant of his cake, and frowned. "Speaking of the sword..."

"Yes?" Shiara prompted after he failed to finish his sentence.

Daystar blinked and lowered his fork to rest neatly on the edge of his plate. "Oh, sorry! I was trying to make sure I was remembering one of Mother's real stories and not one of the made-up stories Father likes to slip in when she's not paying attention. But I think this one was real."

"And?"

"Apparently when Father first met Mother, she'd been expecting a plumber to come fix a clogged drain in Kazul's sink. After they got straightened out who he really was and why he'd come to see Kazul, Father offered to fix the drain with magic, since it's hard to get plumbers to pay house calls to the Mountains of Morning. So he did." Daystar shrugged. "Mother wouldn't let him use the sword on the dishes, though -- she said a magic sword that does plumbing is strange but useful, but a magic sword that washes dishes is just silly -- but I think a magic sword that repairs dishes might be exactly what we need. What if I borrow the sword tomorrow morning and see what I can do?"

Shiara pointed her fork at him and scowled. "No. If you leave the Mountains of Morning, I'll have to arrange a second diplomatic visit within a single week in order for you to return. I refuse to deal with that."

"Oh, I wouldn't have to go fetch it! Not anymore." Daystar leaned forward, an excited smile on his face. "I'm learning magic too, remember? And I thought that, considering all the trouble Mother had retrieving the sword when it was stolen seventeen years ago, it would be sensible to add another spell that lets any member of the royal family who's been recognized by the sword summon it to themselves, regardless of where they or the sword are. Father, Morwen, and Telemain helped me set it up, and we just finished applying it last week. We haven't tested it more than a mile or so outside the Forest, but I'm sure Father won't mind if I summon the sword here to help you out."

Somehow, Shiara doubted the King of the Enchanted Forest would be unfazed by his magic sword's abrupt disappearance. But that was Daystar's problem, and facing it would probably help him build character or something like that. And while a magic sword that did kitchen repairs was fairly ridiculous in theory, in practice, anything that would save her the hours of work (and the expense of replacing all the shattered glass and porcelain) sounded wonderful.

"All right. We'll try it. But you should leave a mirror message with the gargoyle before you summon the sword, just to make sure nobody panics when it disappears."

Daystar looked affronted. "Of course. It would be rude not to."

"Not everything has to be about politeness! Sometimes it's just practical to let people know what you're doing."

"Politeness is practical," Daystar said. "That's the point: I treat other people with respect so they'll treat me with respect instead of working against me because I offended them."

"That's what your parents do. You're just a stuffed shirt," Shiara snapped. "Now please shut up and finish your cake before I lose my temper again."

This time Daystar was the one to roll his eyes (Shiara was almost impressed; she hadn't known he'd been learning sarcastic gestures), but he held his tongue and Shiara told herself that it would be embarrassing to lose her temper at him for doing what she'd asked.

---------------

When Kazul eventually returned home, Daystar insisted on going to thank her for her hospitality and apologize for any inconvenience he'd caused. Shiara took advantage of their mutual distraction to peer into the public corridors.

Roxim smiled at her from an alcove several archways along the tunnel, in the direction of the diplomatic guest caverns.

Shiara smiled weakly back.

"You get the armchair," she told Daystar when he returned to her personal rooms. "Unless you want to explain to Roxim that we're not-- um--"

He blanched. "The armchair sounds fine. I'm sorry for imposing, and I'll try to get Mother to explain things to him, gently, sometime when both of us can be very busy somewhere far away."

Daystar busied himself gathering cushions and shaking crumbs out of the tablecloth. Shiara watched for a moment, then went into her bedroom and persuaded the wardrobe to cough up a set of pajamas in his size rather than hers, plus a pair of bedsocks and fuzzy slippers. (Caves, even ones that absorbed frequent dragon flame and body heat, tended to be unpleasantly chilly at night.) Nightwitch watched this process with an amused tilt to her tail, but mercifully made no overt comments.

"Here," Shiara said, thrusting the clothes into Daystar's arms. "You can change once I shut my door; I promise not to peek. And, um, I'm not saying Roxim is completely wrong. About future possibilities. That may or may not become reality but in any case aren't completely unlikely. Just not tonight."

"Oh," Daystar said. "Um."

Shiara leaned forward and kissed his cheek, which was just as hot and tomato-colored as her own face must be. "I'm glad you're here, even if you did make me break a whole kitchen. Sleep well."

"You too," Daystar said. "Sweet dreams."

There was a brief pause while they both checked to be sure they had heard his words correctly. A hot rush of affection and annoyance bubbled in Shiara's chest until even she couldn't say which emotion would win out if Daystar kept staring at her with that overwhelmed expression.

Rather than wait to find out, she darted back into her room and slammed the door. "Goodnight!"

Shiara fell asleep to the sound of her cat's delighted laughter.

---------------

In the morning, Daystar summoned his sword and put the wreckage of the kitchen back together much cleaner than before (though he suggested hiring a plumber to make yearly checkups and also clean the grease traps, because you couldn't depend on magic swords for everything).

Shiara agreed. Then she grabbed his hand and tugged him out the door.

"I didn't go to the bother of learning how to write diplomatic invitations and arrange formal banquets just so you could stand around in a kitchen all day," she said when he protested. "We're going to visit the Caves of Fire and Night, and maybe the Pass of Silver Ice, and as long as you have that sword right here, we're going to try breaking your stupid politeness spell again. Your visit only lasts another day, so hurry up."

"Don't I get any say in this itinerary?" Daystar asked.

"Do you object to any of it?" Shiara said over her shoulder.

"Not as such. I just think we ought to add one item: thanking the princesses who put together the cake and-- um-- the rest of that, last night."

Shiara stopped dead in the middle of a tunnel. Daystar stumbled, nearly crashing into her shoulder, and Nightwitch mrowled irritably at the sudden change of pace.

"I--" Shiara began, and then couldn't think how to continue the sentence. "That was--" She tried desperately to stop herself from blushing. Her cheeks duly stayed at their normal temperature. Unfortunately, all the heat went straight out the top of her scalp instead, and her hair burst into little licks and curls of flame.

"I know," Daystar agreed. "But they meant well, and it was good cake."

Shiara's hair burned hotter. "Fine. But let me do the talking, even if they get rude or make horrible insinuations. I'm the one who has to live with them, not you, and I can handle my own problems."

"I know," Daystar said again. "I just hope someday you'll let me help more often, and help me with my problems in return. It's the po--" He stopped, visibly reconsidered his words, and finished, "Practical. It would be practical."

For once, the rush of warmth in Shiara's chest was untinged by aggravation.

She squeezed Daystar's hand, and smiled.

---------------------------------------------

End of Story

---------------------------------------------

Hopefully the rest of the fills will be more inclined to behave themselves...

[mild-lunacy]

TFP explained (YMMV)

monalisa72 replied to your post: What is a plausible theory?

So looking at your older post, you talk about checking to see whether a theory fits the plot arc, whether a reading integrates with character development. What do you do when faced with a canon like TFP, where things have gone so off the rails that it seems we’re expected to suspend even the laws of physics? How do we determine what is a reasonable theory when faced with implausible canon?

This is hard for me to answer, ‘cause I have to assume and integrate a response that I just didn’t have as a viewer, myself. Still, I’ve been trying!  

Basically: separate what’s implausible from what’s not your headcanon, a genre mismatch issue, or simply flawed execution of a fundamentally sound resolution on its own terms. A critique can coexist with comprehension, or seeing how a development does fit into Sherlock’s arc... even if it’s not the way I would have done it. I’m sure confused people would prefer more details, though.

The ‘laws of physics’ or genre issues.

Like I said in response to @marsdaydream’s post, I don’t think it’s so out of nowhere or shocking as all that, genre-wise; however, I admitted in response to @silentauroriamthereal’s plot-hole post that certain things (like, for example, jumping out of 221b) were hand-waved too easily, and we weren’t meant to think too much, which is lazy. 

Basically: you’re not supposed to suspend physics, I think? Just... Mofftiss want the audience to squint a bit, but they did that in TAB and TLD too (just in different ways, so in that sense I find TFP continuous and/or the problem to have started around Series 3, as @porcupine-girl described). However, Series 3 and Series 4 have pretty significant genre continuity. Obviously, YMMV.

Moriarty use issues and/or why is it even ‘The Final Problem’, anyway.

I answered this in my comment on Ivy’s post. A lot of this is people being unhappy with how Moriarty is used, which I can only shrug at. I changed my mind about Moriarty being alive with TAB, and in my last farewell to that theory, I mentioned that it made sense that the ‘Act II villain’ would be a lot more grey than the Act I ‘black and white’ villain like Moriarty.  

Essentially, in TFP, Moriarty is still 'the virus in the data' at Sherrinford just as he actually was at the end of HLV, so that TAB clearly provides a fair amount of foreshadowing in this regard.

Note: some people thought this meant Mary would be the Big Bad, but I thought this was unlikely ‘cause she was never really the type to think on a grand scale of villainy; she’s only concerned with herself, which is not how a Big Bad operates. Basically, like Ivy said, Mary just makes really bad knee-jerk decisions. Neither Moriarty nor Mary were cut out to be the ‘Final Problem’ in this show.

Eurus being too deus ex machina, out-of-nowhere and too powerful.

In many ways, that’s a valid critique. I do wish they’d set it up better and planned out the show better in general. I agree with @girlofthemirror about Moffat and Gatiss’s intent and the entire interest in Sherlock’s origins being difficult to accomplish in an open-ended serialized context, so this is partly an issue with execution, and partly a structural concern. 

I still agree with Ivy that TFP plausibly addressed Sherlock’s relationship and intimacy issues as part of his arc, so it’s not out-of-nowhere and it fits, even if it’s a retcon and therefore distasteful.

Sherlock’s childhood issues and/or his arc being in response to Eurus being too much of a retcon, not enough attention paid to realism.

As I mentioned re: Eurus, I’m probably most sympathetic to this. It is a retcon, and it is problematic structurally. Still, as I said about this earlier, what ‘made’ Sherlock the way he is was always a question (particularly in TAB), and so there was set-up. As I agreed later in the thread, you can critique the writing, you can say this is an unfortunate direction for them to have gone, but past trauma has certainly been a hinted at potential for awhile now (see: Redbeard in TSoT). 

The issue with realism and the trauma not being shown continuously... that’s more about personal priorities. If one’s suspension of disbelief breaks based on psychological realism and the lack thereof, that’s more or less a genre mismatch thing. I still respect @porcupine-girl’s argument that a Sherlock Holmes story also requires really strong ‘archplot’ type causality because of his very nature as a force of deductive reasoning. All I can say is that while I relate, it’s still a personal priority as a Holmes fan. Sherlock the character in BBC Sherlock has never really been as fundamentally rational as ACD Holmes (see: Sherlock’s presentation of himself as a pirate in TFP). BBC Sherlock is a ridiculous man in a ridiculous show, more or less.

As in the thread critiquing TFP on these grounds, I still have mixed feelings about this. It depends so much on what kind of thing you consider to be ‘enough’ or the right kind or degree of realism, and I don’t think stories are necessary to judge on that metric in any case. 

Some of people’s responses are probably generated in part because Sherlock has only shown continuous and intense psychological consequences in response to John, because John is his ‘conductor of light’ in all ways, realistic or not. Still, for what it’s worth, Victor mirrors John.

The ‘plot holes’ like John’s chained feet (or John’s letter in TST).

I’ve explained why I don’t think the letter is an instance of ‘Chekhov’s gun’ or even a plot-hole (though it depends how you define it). Overall, sometimes there are definitely some (or many) plot-holes, but it’s a genre and/or writing style thing which has always been there on Sherlock. Trying to fill in plot-holes to force the plot to line up too much is probably less rational than letting them be, but YMMV.

In general, I agree with many details in @thecutteralicia’s comment in that list of people’s nitpicks of the show, particularly that they are often simply opinions in disguise (though we obviously disagree on actual fandom-related opinions). 

The characterization stuff like Sherlock not following ‘Vatican Cameos’ or John not being worried enough about Sherlock’s solution to the John vs Mycroft scenario at Sherrinford, Sherlock being called ‘the adult’, etc.

The two of them being in ‘soldier mode’ explains a lot; like I said initially, I read TFP as John being back to the ‘good old days’ after they’d resolved their major issues at the end of TLD, so what do people really expect? This is definitely an issue with people’s characterization headcanons conflicting. 

As for Sherlock... initially I said that this is just Sherlock still thinking he can handle it himself when push comes to shove (he didn’t lose all his old flaws), but you can also argue that’s Eurus’s canonical effect in play.

Sherlock being called ‘the adult’ by his mum when she’s mad at Mycroft doesn’t seem too surprising to me. She’s upset with Mycroft. (Of course, a lot of things don’t seem too surprising or implausible to me... the same old caveat.)

Sherlock and John’s relationship overall being too shallow/not close enough compared to the other eps.

This is more subjective, obviously. All I can say is that I didn’t see it that way, and I still agree with Ivy that the natural conclusion of TLD is implicit Johnlock, which makes them a solid unit and a ‘family’ in TFP. Even in the platonic partnership sense, they are not as distant or estranged as they have been in Series 3 and most of Series for by TFP.  

Specifically, they have planned their little prank on Mycroft together and it was John’s idea (which is huge!) The sheer casualness of Sherlock saying John’s family and John accepting it is unprecedented, even if it’s always been true. And John actually calling Sherlock to watch the emotionally-loaded second message from Mary, because they share these things, they’re honest with each other now... and they coparent. That isn’t shallow. That is real intimacy, sans drama.

I also agree with Ivy that the Johnlock-friendly reading certainly requires one to fill some blanks and read between the lines, and this requires one to either disregard what they say or simply focus entirely on the text. One can certainly do that easily enough, even if I find the lack of confirmation frustrating and problematic. So yeah, once again, as with any shippy reading issue, YMMV (although I still think Johnlock is unique in the way it makes the story work).

In the case of BBC Sherlock, Authorial Intent is very hard to discern properly and is only important socially in fandom. It definitely seems like intent and what’s on the actual show have... diverged at some point. It’s certainly quite possible to disregard it and see Johnlock in TFP, and I have done an implicit Johnlock reading myself.  

The use of Mary and/or Mary narrating the last few minutes.

I agree with Ivy that the narration isn’t a big deal, and ‘someone had to narrate it’. I realize that plenty of people think John ‘should’ have narrated for various reasons, but that is an opinion. It is not a fact.

Mary’s resolution in TST was complicated in many ways, and reasonable people may disagree. Only addressing her role in TFP: it was minor. YMMV.

The marketing and Series 4/TFP promotion mismatch and/or TFP not ‘making history’.

I wouldn’t trust promos; promos aren’t really trying to be honest and reflect what actually happens so much as drum up excitement. In regards to the specific promo pic promoting TFP, it does make sense on the metaphorical level as a reflection of the plot. 

I also find it plausible that Mofftiss would have thought that the new take on Holmes’s past is groundbreaking, because I think they’re kind of self-involved, like @gloriascott93 suggested.

Well, this is probably more or less the best I can do. I’m definitely still game for answering more specific questions or concerns if people have any. I do have more caveats about the limitations of anyone explicating plausibility in a text as polarizing as this one, though. At certain point, the divergence in fannish priorities and in the audience response is just too deep. Alas.

Still, understanding and integrating other people’s responses to fiction was always sort of my hobby in fandom, so I tried. However, there’s only so far I can go in like, addressing the concerns of people who fundamentally process things differently and/or have fundamentally different expectations for fiction or interpretations of the characters. Like, for example, do you think Ivy and Archie’s debate about Mary can ever be resolved? I use that as an example because these are probably the two people in fandom whose readings of canon I trust the most deeply and have relied on in my own analysis the most frequently. I suppose that’s more evidence there’s something insidious about Series 4, something wrong, if two people whose readings I always respect and admire so deeply can be so far apart.

At the same time... I feel like a lot of the stuff Archie said there is colored by her subjective response to Mary and her brand of manipulativeness/emotional abusiveness to John (and Sherlock). That’s a valid response, but it also a subjective issue that colors analysis, surely. With Ivy, she’s on the other end of the spectrum, closer to where I am-- focused heavily on pure close reading, trying to see what the characters are trying to say, what sense can be made of their behavior with the intent to integrate it into an arc. So I myself do see both their perspectives as valid, but at the same time, I’m pretty sure they’re irreconcilable. To get to Ivy’s reading, I think one needs that underlying desire and the openness to being wrong or having an incomplete reading, not to mention a blissful disregard for Authorial Intent. Basically, I think reader/viewer response and their inherent biases count for as much as the textual inadequacies and actual continuity of characterization or plot issues.

Anyway, like I’ve said, I get that TFP ‘feels’ wrong to people on a very basic level, but I also think there’s very good structural reasons why it’s not. However, I definitely think the writing has pretty deep-rooted structural problems, and I take @girlofthemirror and @plaidadder’s critique of the self-indulgent writing as well as the pacing issues @plaidadder highlights in TFP seriously. This, even though I align with Ivy’s reading of TFP and its ‘purpose’. I see all these problems, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand or that I didn’t enjoy it. As I said to start with, I feel that critique is separate from understanding or enjoyment-- mostly because I can separate what I wanted or expected from what I can understand, or even see in the context of the larger arc if I reevaluated some of my assumptions, like with Mary. Like I said about this sort of analysis earlier, this is a difficult and drawn-out process that sometimes involves simply... changing your mind about things that were dear to you. You have to be willing to do that in order to integrate things that give you trouble initially, basically.

I think that for most people who’re not as obsessively committed to the process as I am, the cognitive dissonance that truly recalibrating one’s reading to fit new canon requires is probably too painful. I tried to redo my reading of ASiB recently, and that wasn’t so bad, but I’d already given up on the explicitly Johnlocky reading by that point. I think I’d be more upset if I could convince myself that Sherlock was into Irene for real or was straight somehow, but that’s... not possible. If nothing else, ASiB is too ambiguous and all the suggestiveness is between John and Sherlock if you take even a peek beneath the surface. No surprises there. Still, that’s pretty typical: there’s usually good news to go with the bad news. It depends how far you’re willing to bend and how genuinely interested you are in what the show is ‘really’ like, stripped of many of the preconceptions behind the stuff you may have liked about it to start with. 

For example, with most of the Johnlocky readings-- some were probably not there and/or it wasn’t that straightforward, while some of it was actually blatant, like Gatiss intentionally ‘flirting with homoeroticism’. Some things were certainly unintentional, and some weren’t the work of Mofftiss but apparently added in by the actors. There’s an alchemy involved in what makes up the show, beyond anything I ever imagined, that’s for sure. In a way, that makes it more beautiful to me, though. That’s true even though I’m still annoyed at being seen as the crazy one. Johnlock is like that tree falling in the forest: if no one notices, admits, or cares that you’re being rigorous and rational, does it matter?

Well... it does to me? I just putter along, one piece of the puzzle at a time.

In the end, a reasonable theory is about integration into the arc secondarily. First, any solid theory has to simply be reasonable. In other words, ideally, it’s the most elegant, least elaborate explanation for the facts as they develop. There’s usually at least a thin path from A to B that’s visible within the plot or characterization if you discard some underlying assumptions about the characters or the text. For example, as Ivy said so eloquently, John was in character in TLD, because that potential was always there, even if I agree with @materialofonebeing’s point that the show didn’t have to go there. But it is what it is, so here we are. Canon acceptance is the first step.

Essentially, canon can sometimes overturn or redefine itself, but a plausible theory still can’t overturn canon, or it becomes unreasonable and/or transformative. In other words, it becomes fanon rather than simply a close reading of the text. I do realize that TFP has retconned a lot of what seemed pretty solid about the show, so you have to simply decide to accept canon absolutely and redefine the puzzle. The puzzle itself may change: that is the prerogative of an ongoing canon, in that it can always ask the audience to expand their parameters for understanding. The audience can refuse and break the reader/author contract, or attempt to walk the new path even if it’s not in an expected or desired direction. If the new parameters hold together on the surface level first and foremost, then it works (even if it’s not ideal).

I’m really well-practiced at adjusting my expectations and recalibrating in response to new data, basically, so in general this means I can adjust what ‘plausibility’ means to some degree. YMMV.

[tigereye771]

“THOSE” GoT Spoilers, Let’s Not Talk Content, Let’s Talk Behavior & Action

I’ve been seeing a lot of Jon & Sansa fans bemoaning the state of season 7 of Game of Thrones before it airs due to “spoilers” that were posted in October on Reddit and subsequent “additional information”.  I think a lot of people may be taking these “spoilers” more seriously than they deserve to be. First, this post is not really about the spoilers themselves, hence my title of “Let’s Not Talk Content.”  I’m writing this because it stems from several conversations I’ve had with a fellow fan and she’s asked me to put my thoughts out there.  I’m not so much interested in discussing what the “spoilers” say, but the behavior and action around the spoilers.  What do I mean by that?  I mean that there’s a chance the “spoilers” may not be 100% accurate or downright wrong because the whole scenario does not fit in with past actions of certain parties and how people would act in a given situation.

I’m also going to provide some disclaimers in that I have no inside knowledge, I’m probably a casual fan at best, and I do like the idea of Jonsa and Sansa is my favorite character. I do not religiously follow spoilers or news, but I do read some/listen to interviews and read articles (but I do not hunt down every single thing, if something comes across the various outlets I follow like Entertainment Weekly, I will likely read it).  If you think that makes me biased in some way, perhaps, but it also provides me with the ability to not get lost in the forest of the spoilers themselves and look at the situation itself: the fact there are leaks.

If you want to read more, I’ve included a cut because while this is not about the content of the “spoilers”, I am going refer to them and some other stuff so I want to make sure I don’t inadvertently tell someone something they rather not know. What follows are completely my own opinion and thoughts.

I read the initial October “spoilers” once and dismissed them because my understanding was they were from an unknown source who had not posted on Reddit before. Additionally, I’m not a Reddit user so I’m not exposed to what goes on there, but I was surprised by how many people accepted these “spoilers” to be true.  Why is that?  The reason given was that photographs taken during filming support the “spoilers” and the subsequent additional “spoilers” (which I am not clear on if they are from the same original source or a different source and I have not read or heard of them so I’m not quite clear as to what they say) are supported by these photographs.

Now, I’ve seen these photographs, and with the exception of a few things, I think some of them would have been very obvious things for Season 7 if the “spoilers” did not exist. For example:

·         Jon & Dany meeting – Well, there are 13 episodes left, it would seem to move story along there was a high possibility of them meeting and not being left to the last 6 episodes for that to happen.

·         Jon & Theon reuniting – Well, in Season 6 Theon and Yara just allied themselves with Dany so if Jon meets Dany, high likelihood of Jon also reuniting with Theon

So I don’t see how any of this is “proof” the “spoilers” are accurate (I should also say that I can be very skeptical about a lot of things and in my work, I’m constantly telling my staff that when you make a claim or cite a number you better have a source to back that up. So I naturally demand a high level of proof, perhaps more so than other fans). What is also a possibility is: couldn’t the “spoilers” have been written to match what would be photographed? That would mean that the “spoilers” were planted information by someone connected to the show.  Is that possible?

I posted it in my feed when it first appeared, but on October 27, 2016, Entertainment Weekly’s James Hibberd who writes about GoT wrote an article saying don’t believe all those spoilers you’re seeing (http://ew.com/article/2016/10/27/game-thrones-season-7-spoilers-leaks/).  Why should we pay attention to this article?  What does EW know?  Maybe EW is trying to help GoT cover up a leak and throw people off.  Does EW really know anything?  

Let’s take the first that EW is helping a scrambling GoT cover up a massive leak.  Would they really provide that help or would GoT had even approached EW to help them cover up the leak? Maybe, but I think the chances might be slim on either end because one thing about EW makes me think they’re saying don’t believe all the “spoilers” because EW might actually know what some of the storyline is and the “spoilers” are at least inaccurate in some respects. How would they know that? I think EW might have been there for some of the filming in Spain and likely DO know some of the storyline for Season 7.  If you listen to EW’s end of Season 6 podcast, I think it was Hibberd who said he was there for the filming of BotB and knew Rickon died and he had to keep quiet all that time before the episode aired. Additionally, if you read the article on Kit Harington in the EW issue where he was on the cover with the title “He’s Alive,” the author of that article (I think it was Hibberd again), talks about the filming of BotB. So we know EW visits the filming of GoT and has got to know about what’s going to take place in the upcoming season.  It just also makes sense logistically because they have to write articles for publication so they need to have some lead time in information.

Going back to the article I linked, EW also notes that GoT is known for pulling “pranks” and misleading people by having cast on set to make it look like they’re filming certain scenes only for it to be a misdirect.  Alexander Siddig also said he thought a few seasons past that the leak of certain episodes was a calculated move by HBO and the show itself. So it may not be too farfetched to think they planted “spoilers”. Afterall, wasn’t the original “spoiler” poster someone who had never posted to Reddit before and then soon after deleted the posting?

So, are all these photos and the “spoilers” an elaborate misdirect by the show?  I do not think it can be discounted that they are.  These people are not stupid.  They know that by filming in open areas, there were bound to be photographers taking pictures of them or at least the possibility of that happening.  But why go through all this trouble? Just to mess with fans?  Or something else?

I think “something else” could be a reason and that reason might be to keep GoT an ongoing topic of conversation and the interest up.  With the later start date, there might be the concern that interest might wane in the show as fans turn their attention to other shows. Additionally, GoT has some competition now.  Westworld, Stranger Things, This is Us, all new shows that have gotten a lot of “chatter” around them, not to mention awards. There could be concern that because they will be airing a little later than usual, that GoT might lose a step or two, so keeping their fanbase guessing and talking keeps the momentum up.

But let’s just go ahead and discount all of what I just wrote and say none of it applies.  I have to say the action around these “spoilers” do not make sense given D&D and HBO’s history around spoilers.  GoT has always been protective about protecting information.  How many times have you seen actors mention about the precautions taken about protecting scripts and information?  Yet, we suddenly have an ENTIRE season leaked?  Has that EVER happened for any show, let alone a show that historically has been so fiercely secretive?  It does not seem realistic that such a huge leak should happen now when GoT likely has a pretty good system in place for protecting their information.

Even if we say the original October “spoilers” are correct, why weren’t the leaks plugged for the subsequent “spoilers”?  You have this massive leak on your show and you don’t hunt down the person(s) responsible? You don’t take great precautions to ensure no more information is released? Logically, it makes no sense.

Well, someone may argue it’s because they don’t care or less said is better to not give the “spoilers” credence.  Okay, let’s say GoT, because it’s winding down, they really don’t care if there are leaks.  Fine, then why not release your actors to say a little more about what’s going to happen? The most we got is Iain Glenn saying certain characters are going to be meeting which I think a few other actors have mentioned too.  Again, logical occurrence for a show with only 13 episodes remaining, not really a spoiler. An “official” type of spoiler coming from an actor on the show, would definitely be picked up by more media outlets than something posted on Reddit by an unknown entity and I can imagine would have a greater impact on fan chatter.

What about the other argument of if they don’t talk about it, we’re not giving any validation to the “spoilers” which are true? I’m thinking of pre-Season 6 when people spotted Kit Harington when Season 6 was being filmed and everyone started saying Jon Snow is alive. What happened? D&D and HBO came out and said, “Oh, he’s just being filmed as a corpse.  Jon Snow is dead.” Which was all true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. So it’s not like they haven’t addressed a “leak” in some way before with a bit of a misdirect. But we have official radio silence so far, from what I can tell.  So maybe they are “planted” information by the show or the lack of response from GoT might be because the “spoilers” didn’t originate from them but from some outside source just making up stuff and so far from being true that they don’t need to say a word.

One last thing that to me makes all of these “spoilers” suspect.  A while back on Watchers on the Wall they posted a photo that some visitor had shot when visiting the set.  It was of Dany’s throne room at Dragonstone.  What struck me was that it was a perfectly framed, clear shot.  It wasn’t a picture someone had illicitly taken, sneaking in a shot before someone catches you doing something you shouldn’t. The photographer, stood there, lined up the shot and took it.  So unless they allowed a visitor to wander around unaccompanied on their set, I can’t imagine a visitor being allowed such liberty and NOT having been asked to sign a non-disclosure agreement of some kind (any picture of information you saw in your visit today you agree not to mention or share, or at least without prior authorization by GoT, that type of thing). Again, it doesn’t make sense. But if they allowed that photo be taken and were okay for it to be released that tells me one other thing: GoT still wants to control the dispensing of information for S7.  Which means they do still give a damn about what information gets out there.

So what do all of these October “spoilers” and subsequent follow-up “spoilers” mean?  Is it just about being relevant or something else?  Maybe it’s about being relevant, maybe it’s also about muddying up the waters to confuse fans on what may actually happen. Maybe somebody was fed false information and put it out there.  Maybe it’s the show putting it out there.  Or maybe it’s all been made up by someone who wants to wind up the fanbase.   I’m also not discounting there might be some truth in some of those spoilers because the best way to get people to believe something is to make sure it’s a little bit true or possible.  All I’m saying is there shouldn’t be a wholehearted acceptance of these “spoilers”. To me at least, the all of the stuff going around the “spoilers” don’t add up to a logical story.  People will believe and do what they want, but I don’t think there’s much to get wound up about right now.

Either way, I’m reserving judgment for now.  And if you made it to this point, thanks for sticking with it!

[thechrisd]

Twitch Subs/Cheers Are Terrible Value For Buyer AND Creator (at least in the EU)

So late last night, casually watching BWoods be so-so at Quake Champions, I decided I’d go through with my initial plan for taking advantage of Twitch’s Subtember promotion - first-time subscriptions for half-price - by buying a high-tier sub to several people for the first month only. Main reason for this being that I never really considered that Twitch subscriptions were worth the money that I as a contributor spends relative to the amount that the content creator gets in the end.

Anyway, as I was going through the process I got a bit of a shock as I was going through all of the annoying red-tape that Xsolla adds as the payment processor:

Apparently VAT gets added on top of the subscription cost rather than being absorbed by Twitch themselves in the amount they take? After that as well as the fact that Xsolla basically then wanted permanent access to my PayPal account in order to process the transaction, I backed the hell out of it and started to look into just how bad Twitch subs are when it comes to wanting to support people.

Twitch Subs really are bad for the creator

So we all know that for Affiliate and lower-tier full-Partner streamers, subs are split 50:50. But that 50:50 is only after various taxes, payment processor charges and the like are taken out of the initial fee. That would mean 40-45% of your sub cost goes to the creator. However, when you’re in the EU like me, you have to pay anything from an extra 17% (Luxembourg) to an extra 27% (Hungary) on top of that; which now makes it paying anywhere from $5.84 to $6.34.

I haven’t yet touched properly on how much the creator gets because... it’s so varied depending on aspects such as their country of residence, the country from where the subscribers reside, tax status, choice of payment processor etc. From various threads on r/Twitch, I’ve seen some be worth as little as $0.54, with the top end not going higher than $2.36 for non-Prime subs. So, if we take the absolute best case scenario from these figures: a Luxembourgian sub being worth $2.36 to the creator, that’s 40.41% of the total cost; while the absolute worst case scenario - a Hungarian sub worth $0.54, that’s 8.52% of the total cost.

Twitch Bits are better — but not by much

It seems that regardless of the location and method around a Twitch sub, they’re a terrible method of directly supporting someone compared to a multitude of various other methods. I presume a lot of people will have seen this image comparing Twitch cheering with YT Super Chat and PayPal donations:

Well, even that lies a bit because you also pay VAT when buying bits. So while the image may make them seem good at 71-81% to the creator; once you factor in VAT, that drops to under 60%.

YouTube is better about it

YouTube’s “Super Chat” feature at first glance seems pretty bad, what with them taking 30% of it regardless of the size of the tip. But from what I’ve read online, it’s really not as bad as that because YouTube *possibly* covers the VAT costs from their cut. I can’t say this for certain since I’ve never sent nor received a Super Chat to be able to confirm for myself, so I’m having to go off of reddit search results again; but if it is indeed true, then it’s a lot better and a lot more understandable of a system to determine how much the creator gets.

YouTube Sponsorship is really good

UPDATE 2017-08-19: Now that YouTube Gaming Sponsorships are out of beta and available to all, I can directly compare them to Twitch subs properly.

The first major difference is that these sponsorships are split 70/30 between the creator and YouTube. Secondly, the sponsor does not pay VAT on top of the cost - as you can see from my investigating below, dividing €4.99 by 123% (cos 23% VAT here in Ireland) is €4.06, which works out with the 93c listed below.

Now, I have no confirmation whether or not YouTube absorbs the VAT costs into their 30% cut of both Super Chat and Sponsorships, and probably won’t be able to compare until I get a sponsor. If they do, then €3.49 would be my 70% split, and thus the contribution percentage. If they don’t, then €2.84 would be my split making a percentage contribution of 57% - better than Twitch subs, comparable-ish to Twitch bits. I’ll update this in the future with any new findings I may come across.

Patreon is still the best percentage by far

Supporting creators on Patreon is still one of the best ways to contribute, especially if like me you want to support lots of different creators with a small amount every month - since they batch everything together, thus meaning you only have one overall payment and thus only one processing charge. You decide how much you want to give every month (or per item they publish), and you know that the creator will get 95% of that.

You do still pay VAT via Patreon, and the processing fees will vary depending on how much you’re spending overall per month, but if we assume a $2.50 pledge - meaning $2.37 to the creator - that would be worth about 74%-80% of the amount you spend depending on your VAT rate (17% costs $2.93; 27% costs $3.18).

Things a Twitch Sub is worse than

While I was writing up these comparisons, I also had the idea to compare the cost of a Twitch sub to other more conventional methods of money transfer. So I looked up how much it would cost me from here in Ireland (23% VAT rate) to a bank account in the US, since it’s the most comparable method to these online contributions. I thought I was crazy and expecting this to be something silly like €15 to send that small amount, but I was wrong. VERY wrong.

Wow. €4 to send someone more money than they would get from a Twitch sub - which itself would cost me about €5.15 at today’s exchange rates - and they get the money a lot sooner than waiting for their $100 payout threshold, and without them having to pay their cashout fees. Oh, and the service fee stays pretty much the same regardless of the amount, so the overall percentage only gets better as the amount being sent increases.

What can Twitch do to be better?

If you ask me, there are two ways Twitch can make the subs better for the creator:

Take on the VAT charges as part of their cut, so people only have to pay the $4.99, $9.99, $24.99 that is advertised.

Give the creator a fixed amount of the subscription cost, and make this clear to the subscriber at the time of signing up (assuming optimal payment methods).

Until something changes with how they do things, I’ll stick with my current way of doing things - supporting creators on Patreon, and one-time donations if I feel like it.

[maxslogic25]

How to Scale Creativity for Exceptional Marketing With Jay Acunzo

As marketers, we’re always on the lookout for the next great thing to help propel our campaigns to profit and attract more of the right buyers. At the same time, while we’re obsessed with the thought of “doing something different, something creative” to reach our objectives, we’re not always sure about where to start. We’re almost afraid of parting ways with the status quo and ultimately concede to taking baby steps instead.

But what if one day we decided to take the road less traveled? Cliché, but bear with me. What if we were somehow inspired enough to think of “creativity” not as another tool that generates results, but as something we all can unleash from within to more naturally—in a way that’s our own—produce better marketing outcomes?

Jay Acunzo, an award-winning podcaster and dynamic speaker, attests that the lofty ideals we worship—creativity, innovation, prolific production—can actually be taught. As the former digital media strategist at Google and head of content marketing at HubSpot, he’s got me listening.

In this blog, you’ll find an interview with Jay exploring how to find your own creative ways to produce truly exceptional results.

Q: With all the noise buzzing in today’s digital ecosystem, how do you best filter through it to focus on what matters most to marketing initiatives? For instance, what are some of your favorite industry outlets?

I don’t think it’s about finding the best industry outlets (or gurus, or podcasts, or blogs, or books…) but rather understanding your own context first and foremost. There’s just SO much information out there—it’s like the Information Age has created a dark side: advice overload. And the best way to filter it is to understand and overtly articulate your own aspirations, the problems you’re out to solve for your customers, and the limitations of your own resources. If you know yourself, your customers, and your resources, you’re a master of your own context first and foremost. You’ve set up your “filter” through which you can vet all that advice out there. Then it’s a lot easier and faster to decide whether an industry outlet or individual thinker or piece is right for you or not.

Ultimately, the goal is to make all that overwhelming information serve you because you’re proactive, rather than drown in it because you’re reactive.

Q: What’s the one, seriously worn out best practice that makes you want to pull your hair out? Okay, go nuts, pick two if you must.

Every time someone asks how long a podcast or blog post should be, I start throwing chairs and flipping tables.

It’s like, how long do you have? Here’s an endless list of (A) why I can’t give you one simple answer and (B) why you’re thinking about the wrong things here. Marketers and salespeople refer to content as a container, but the audience is after what’s inside. And just like Tupperware, “podcasts” and “blog posts” come in all shapes and sizes. It all depends on what you want to cook up—or, more crucially, what your audience wants to eat.

So how long should the thing be? As long as it needs to be. No longer. No shorter.

Q: As a content marketer in a dense world of content, you work hard on honing and perfecting your writer’s “voice.” What role does voice play in your overall strategies and how do you ensure that it not only resonates as authentic, but that it also translates across various marketing channels?

Maybe this is weird, but I’ve never stopped to think about voice as a writer. I’ve never actually “worked hard” on my writer’s voice. It’s just MY voice. Like, me, the person, not me as a writer.

But maybe the lesson lies in why I love to write: it makes me feel stuff and makes others feel stuff too. That’s such a powerful thing. When you feel emotions, you’re a bit more raw. You stop the daily grind and reset a bit. The deck has been cleared, so to speak. And so now, you’re open to change and open to learning. So I guess the way I’ve honed my voice is to just write a ton of bad stuff, see what resonated emotionally with me and with others, and keep doing that stuff.

For example, I know that I have a casual, often sarcastic voice (with plenty of parenthetical asides)—but only because I enjoy that kind of style and others have told me they enjoy it too.

The goal is to find the overlap of this Venn diagram, with one circle being “resonates with me” and the other circle being “resonates with others.” To find the overlap, you have to put out a ton of work, and a lot of it will be bad. The business world doesn’t like to embrace this idea that launching something good requires being bad for a while, but that’s reality. There’s no shortcut or cheat here.

Q: What’s the first step to letting go of the status quo, of what’s being done again and again for reason unknown, and trusting your intuition to finally do something different?

I think things like the status quo or the best practice emerge when we aim to become experts in something. There’s a certain sense of “arriving” or final state of knowing when you want to be an expert. But I think it’s far more powerful, especially in the Information Age today, to act like investigators. Forget being an expert and act like a detective, always.

Investigators ask questions. They don’t earn a living by having the answers so much as knowing how to find them. And even then, they question whether or not the case is really closed.

On my show, Unthinkable, we tell stories of work that looks crazy…until you hear their side of the story. From the outside looking in, every individual and team that we profile seems to fly in the face of all the experts in their space. They break from the status quo. But really, they just investigated the details of their own context—their team’s abilities and beliefs, their customers’ reality, their resources, and limitations—and they plucked out an answer that seemed logical IN THAT CONTEXT. It looks like it’s countercultural or atypical, but to them, it’s really strategic and logical.

When you embrace that no context is identical to yours right now, and when you focus more on being an investigator than an expert, then really great, creative, or unconventional work only seems “unthinkable” to others.

After all, “the answer” will change. How many strategies, tactics, tools, and trends do we suffer through and claim as our savior before we realize the only constant is change? So if “the answer” will always change, imagine if we could throw ourselves into any scenario in this ever-changing world and know how to figure it out. We’d be unstoppable.

Want to break from the status quo? Act like an investigator, not an expert.

Q: Talk to us about the data you use to validate your approach; do you have a preferred way to measure success?

When I’m not traveling and speaking, I direct and host multiple podcasts about people who do meaningful work. The metric I use is something I call “URR.” It’s a completely made-up metric, and I had to give it an acronym so all the very important business people out there would take me seriously. URR stands for Unsolicited Response Rate. It’s been my experience that if you get a small number of people reacting in a big way to what you did, you should lean into it, because good things tend to happen afterward. URR is a way to measure resonance in a world too focused on empty reach, so in a way, it’s how I measure the hard thing: Did I create something memorable, some kind of “value payload,” that triggered a visceral reaction from others? If yes, I put it in more places and do more with the concept. If no, I kill it and move on. This applies whether I’m tweeting or writing or podcasting or speaking. I’m on a constant hunt for resonance, and then that forms the basis of all the rest of my work. (You can read more about URR in this rant I wrote about bad marketing.)

Want to learn more about taking your approach to the next, creatively exceptional level of marketing? Hint #1: Consider studying the INSIDES of what you created. Jay Acunzo will discuss his thoughts on brilliant marketing in “Guts and Spines: How Brilliant Marketers Start and Scale Their Creativity”—an inspiring webinar presentation in which Jay will partner with ZoomInfo to deconstruct what makes top creators so prolific. We love discussing creativity like it’s some mystical muse. But the world’s best know: It’s all about those tangible guts and spines.

What makes exceptional marketing in your mind? How have you been able to achieve creativity? Let us know your methods in the comments.

The post How to Scale Creativity for Exceptional Marketing With Jay Acunzo appeared first on Marketo Marketing Blog - Best Practices and Thought Leadership.

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