#Squee vs the REAL

[tiredassmage]

koth vortena & kisses for the commander

[thessalian]

Thess vs Lack of Accessibility

Is it petty to just be, like, really really sad right now?

I came to Tumblr because of the Dragon Age fandom. I hadn't been in a fandom in so long, not after the first one, which ... look, getting into a fandom while having a nervous breakdown is a bad thing, okay? Especially when that fandom has named you a BNF for some reason and the responses end up going from "nagging daily to finish a fic" to "long essays shitting on everything you ever wrote" and you're a people-pleaser by nature. Just ... that on top of everything else is ... not recommended. You have no idea how phobic I was of the very idea of fandom. I literally flinch when the media in question comes up (though I have some very good friends because of that fandom and I would not be without them; just ... I will avoid that particular piece of media the same way I do anything overly zealously Christian and conversations about politics with my mother, and for the same reason - my sanity).

Anyway, point is that the Dragon Age fandom gave me back my love of and, more importantly, trust in fandoms. Sure, there's some toxic bullshit, but it isn't like that. Y'all have been so wonderful, and between how awesome the fandom is and how DA: O itself really helped me cope during a particularly dark time, for all I flag up its flaws, I'm always going to have a soft spot in my heart for this franchise.

So of course it makes me happy that everyone's finding something to love about Veilguard and spreading it all over Tumblr. Picking their blorbos and squeeing about Assan and all of that, and it's everywhere. And on one level, I'd love to join in. I'd like to start thinking about what my Rook would be like - which of my internal presets would I send after Solas first? What faction would a Molly be a part of? A Jessie? A Jallira?

...Just ... why, when I probably won't even be able to play it?

One of the reviews had the reviewer literally screw up a livestream by getting knocked over a cliff because her reflexes weren't up to it, and highlighted just how much you need those reflexes and that dodge to actually get through the game. And she couldn't manage. And she's not, as far as I'm aware, fucking disabled. I, on the other hand, am. And it doesn't sound like easy mode and accessibility options are going to get me out of "you have to constantly dodge-roll or experience Death By Cliff".

For most things, I can budget my spoons appropriately. If I want to go to a convention - a big one like MCM or a small one like Dragonmeet - I can plan my life accordingly. But that's a one-off. So is "I'm going to bake things", or "I'm going to make soup", or "I'm going to Borough Market". I can have rest breaks after these things. I can plan them for good days. Most of the time, I can cope with this. I hate it, but I can cope.

But ... I mean, how do you do that kind of thing for a video game that runs so many hours? Too many breaks and you lose the momentum - far too many abandoned playthroughs of BG3 have taught me that. Waiting for good days could have me waiting a week or more before I'm up to even touching it again. If it's not a bad pain day, it could still be a day where I'm having spasms, and believe me, I don't touch anything that requires precision when I'm having spasms ... but sometimes I don't know until I'm trying to do a thing, so I could end up dodge-rolling myself off a cliff if I go to the spasm place.

Thankfully, I'm not the sort of person who turns around and resents the people who are looking so forward to it when I can only sit here and dither over what I'm going to do about this whole mess. I'm glad people are enjoying the anticipation. Just seeing it makes me sad, and I don't want to block the tags because a) I still have some tiny shred of hope and b) that's too many tags.

I resent the fuck out of EA and Bioware, though. I get that they couldn't necessarily go back to DA:O's real-time-with-pause tactical structuring, but moving us to something that's ... probably closer to Kingdoms of Amalur than anything Souls-like but there's still an element of that latter ... anyway, it's a giant fuck-you to the disabled. I've had one of those before. I got chosen for the closed beta of Secret World: Legends when Funcom was making its changes to The Secret World. I was not alone in flagging up that everything from the reticle targeting to the particle effects to the random-roulette light-up stuff all over the UI was a massive trigger for vertigo and migraines. And we all got the same response: "This is what we're doing and we're not changing it; sucks to be you". And it really wasn't that much more polite than my paraphrase, either. (Which is another problem with Veilguard for me, because even that first gameplay trailer full of prologue gave me a migraine that lasted for like two days; part of it was the particle effects, part of it was the glowy redesigns of all the demons, but mostly it was the dodge-rolling making the camera bounce around like a fucking squash ball.)

I resent EA and Bioware for jumping so entirely on the ARPG train that even the best their accessibility options can do don't help. I also resent them for not giving us a fucking demo. I know that AAA games don't do that anymore, for some reason, but how the fuck am I supposed to know whether or not I can play it if I don't have a demo? Steam gives a two-hour return window, and adding the time taken in character creation plus the prologue, that doesn't give that much time to really get a feel for whether or not it's playable, especially not when it depends on the kind of day I'm having.

There are a lot of reasons I hate being disabled. I think most of them boil down to "the people who make accessibility a fucking nightmare". That thing about Borough Market, for example, where I'd have to take a fairly roundabout route to even get there because the most direct route is via a train station that has raised platforms and no elevators, and those stairs were a nightmare even before the cane. And of course, video games. Far too many video games. Including, it seems, the franchise that really got me back into video games in the first place, and one of the first things that really gave me joy after fleeing the abusive ex.

Fuck my life entirely.

[aprillikesthings]

It's Fridayyyyy

TIME FOR MORE SHE-RA

s1 ep11 Promise

oh shit I remember this one it's a heartbreaker

(good stuff for my fic though)

Hey remember when I swore up and down I wasn't going to liveblog my entire rewatch? Good times.

Part of me is like: I would get through these so much faster if I didn't insist on screenshotting them and commenting and making jokes

But the rest of me knows damn well I probably just wouldn't bother watching them?? This way feels a bit like watching it *with* someone, which I always prefer to watching things alone.

Also tbh if I did just marathon them while knitting or something I wouldn't remember anything!! Which would defeat the point!! So here I am.

If you're new to these posts: I am doing a rewatch of She-Ra with the specific purpose of taking notes for a fic I'm working on--but because this is me we're talking about, I also post a ton of screenshots with the purposes of commentary, squeeing at specific scenes, and making jokes. Because it's a rewatch, I don't comment on every plot point and I often mention things that happen later in the show--in other words, these might be confusing if you haven't seen the show yet.

EDIT: yeah this was another one where I hit the image limit, will have to reblog to finish it

I know people have figured out the "alphabet" of the first ones what does this sayyyyy

I mean wouldn't they all be portable in some sense? The one that recharges Glimmer could be taken down and moved somewhere, couldn't it? We know the one from Scorpia's kingdom was taken and moved to the Fright Zone, for instance.

"Query not recognized."

Adora's frustration here is exactly why I don't use Siri, like, ever.

Light Hope reminds me of a specific model? actress? from the 1980's but I can never remember who and it drives me CRAZY

*does some googling*

GRACE JONES I AM THINKING OF GRACE JONES

TELL ME I'M WRONG

Grace Jones also did disco music, TIL

back to cartoon lesbians

yeah that couldn't have been important for anything no worries it's fine

you didn't notice anyone else there until She-Ra destroyed something lolol

ehehehehehehh

Look I know it's the point of the whole show but I grin every time they're supposed to be on opposite sides and one saves the other's life (Does Adora do it more than Catra does? surely someone kept count)

don't mind me

little shit

���BUT YOU DID IT ANYWAYYYYYY🎶

"how many times are you going to make that joke" well how many times does Catra say it lolll

"where are your friends?" "you mean the ones you KIDNAPPED and CURSED???" "uh, yeah?"

lol

I just like the art style here

Okay so I can't screenshot audio, but that little moment of Catra saying "Adora? Adora???" where the tone goes from "hey look at this" to that almost-panic and then she turns around and it's kid!Catra is just so, SO well done.

ugh these scenes are such a punch in the gut

I'm not getting emotional at cartoon characters remembering the happier bits of their shitty traumatic childhood together, YOU ARE

;_;

man this shot is just good, ugh, you can see so much of their characters on display: Adora's self-righteousness vs Catra's sullen defensiveness

anyway they should've made out

lol

they're 1:1 so far this episode

(even though this cliff probably isn't even real)

"Did you really think I'd just let Shadow Weaver erase your memory like that?" oh so she DID know

Adora: "I don't know, probably" I mean I thought she would

I've been CALLED OUT lol

Adora: "Can you blame me? Catra: "*scoffs* Not really"

😏

John Cena.gif

BABIES (okay a little older like maybe 13)

(still babies)

I mean, true

I'VE HIT THE IMAGE LIMIT FOR THIS POST lol I knew I would

gonna post and reblog

[random-iz-stuff]

Invader Zim Deathmatch:

ROUND 2, FIGHT 6:

BOB VS MS BITTERS!

The rules are as follows:

1. We’re assuming that both participants actively want and are willing to kill each other unless actively specified otherwise (for example: Chammy Wamboo).

2. The fight must be one on one so no outside help is allowed, but prep time is allowed.

3. The rule for prep time is that if one contestant gets prep time, the other contestant gets an equal amount of prep time as well.

[Masterpost]

Information about both contestants (who they are, powers and abilities, etc) can be found under the cut.

Contestant Stats:

Bob:

��Gambling gone very right”

Appearances:

Bob appears in the episode “Hobo 13”. We also see two other service drones similar to Bob, but this is definitely a coincidence. (One has the same name but completely different coloured eyes and one looks like Bob but is not named, implying that it’s a different drone)

Powers and abilities:

Irken physiology (can lift over 3 times their body weight and is extremely durable)

PAK (PAK legs, PAK lasers, shield generator, all the things an Irken PAK can do)

Multimillionaire (Bob has at least 6 million monies to his name. It’s not worth much in combat but Bob doesn’t have much going for him so I’m giving him anything I can)

Fun Fact:

Like mentioned before, there are two other “Imposter Bobs”. One has the same name but has a completely different eye colour, and the other looks like Bob but doesn’t have a name. Either way, they definitely aren’t the real Bob.

Ms Bitters:

“Not originally from Invader Zim”

Appearances:

Ms Bitters appears in many different episodes, to the point where I won’t list them all

Powers and abilities:

Shadowmancy (Ms Bitters has shown to be able to move through and materialize from shadows)

Shapeshifting/Extreme Flexibility (Ms Bitters has been shown to move and bend in unnatural ways, twisting around and moving almost like a snake. Whether this is due to shapeshifting or Ms Bitters simply being incredibly flexible is unknown, but the latter option seems to be the most likely explanation)

Fear (Ms Bitters terrifies just about everyone she interacts with, so the physiological effects of this in combat should definitely be taken into consideration)

[Possible] Bug communication? (If skoolchildren theories are to be believed, Ms Bitters may be able to communicate with bugs, being one herself. However, this is only a theory, no matter how much evidence there may be to support it, so take this power with a grain of salt)

[Weakness] Sunlight (Ms Bitters needs to wear a hooded cloak whenever she’s outside, and it’s heavily implied if not shown that she’ll burn and possibly even die if exposed to direct sunlight)

Fun Facts:

Before Invader Zim was made, Ms Bitters appeared in the Squee! Comics also made by Jhonen Vasquez.

Ms Bitters is also shown to play favourites with her students, seemingly treating Zita the best out of all her students and treating Dib the worst.

[balzabul]

generational divides are a capitalist means of preventing organization across age lines, except for knowing vs not knowing what squeeing is that one's real

[chronicallykiki]

🌟 Vtuber vs IRL Species 🌟

My vtuber was based on my FFXIV viera, who was based on my real-life bunny, Squiggle/Squee (RIP):

[disregardcanon]

thinking about different ways to gender bend the roy siblings and like, SQUEE the possibilities.

cis fem kendall who never really thought about the indignities of not being considered a candidate for Heir TM alongside connor and roman until her baby sister points it out, and then vying for it becomes a compulsion along with the rest of them, with her NEVER being properly considered vs connor roman shiv because not only is she a girl, she’s not like logan in the ways shiv is. (connor is promoted to candidate here because logan’s only got two sons and just having roman and shiv duke it out isn’t really in his nature. he needs three)

transmasc shiv who faces not only the typical misogyny of Being Shiv TM but also the backlash of her “trying to be a man” to “win daddy’s approval”, whereas the transition just brings more abuse without any of the sweetness that sometimes came with being “daddy’s little girl” and sharpens it all into an even sharper knife

cis fem connor actually getting a lot more consideration and kindness because Girl TM but also being more thoroughly sibling-parentified, as well having “female hysteria” brandished against her and her mother’s institutionalization used more thoroughly whenever she so much as Has an Emotion. also: “where are my grandkids. where is the husband?” while femcon is an entire lesbian who’s just living in denial about only wanting “female friendships” and having to buy them

transfem connor like trying to be caitlyn jenner and logan just refusing to acknowledge that connor even exists any longer 

enby kendall who is very Kendall TM about it all but it’s a very real thing that is very important to him, even if he keeps going back and forth about whether or not he’ll embrace himself. like he finds out that you can be Not a Boy and Not a Girl and he’s like I Am An Experience TM. and everyone’s like oh my god shut UP kendall. and he never ends up exploring his gender much further, except in the context of when he’s trying to be The Most Progressive, but it actually weighs on him a lot that everyone in his life thinks something that important to him is “stupid” and “made up”. number one boy is both a source of comfort and intense pain because his dad brings it up most when kendall is going into one of his “weird genderfluid bullshit phases”

not doing roman because i really feel uncomfortable delving too deeply into roman. sorry babes

[wolfjackle]

I got tagged by @betasuppe, @greensword101, AND @insanely-creative-things for this game. Love all of you!

3 fave ships: Aziraphale/Crowley, duh. But for my current DPxDC fandom(s)? This is hard! I'm such a multishipper for DP, DC, and DPxDC. I don't think I can pick just two. So I'm gonna go with an old staple. Pride and Prejudice gives me Elizabeth/Fitzwilliam Darcy (look, when I say old staple, I mean it!). And... hmmm. Screw it, Emma/Knightley from Emma. I squee every time I read Knightley's proposal scene. Call me a basic white girl, I'll concede.

First EVER ship: Damn, I don't know. I got into shipping in high school, but not online fandom. It was either Naruto or Fruits basket, I got into both around the same time thanks to some friends. Fruits Basket gave me Kyo/Tohru (I loved them even when the manga was still teasing the Tohru/Kyo vs Tohru/Yuki love triangle). And for Naruto, I shipped Shikamaru with... I can't remember. I have no idea how I don't remember, but I don't. Used to look up videos and fanart with a friend all the time, but I went back 16 years in my youtube likes history and I can find no record of it. @betasuppe you were one of the ones who got me into Naruto back in high school. Do you remember who my huge ship with Shikamaru was? After those two came ATLA and then it was Zutara all the way. That was probably my first real exposure to online shipping discourse, so if that's what you mean, then there's your answer.

Last song played: Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald by Gordon Lightfoot

Currently reading: I actually just finished a four-part book series last night. The series is called A Mage's Influence by Melanie Cellier and it was so good. My next book will probably be A Lady's Guide to Petticoats and Piracy by Mackenzi Lee (sequel to A Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue). But before that, I have some fanfic updates to catch up on. Next on that list is the latest chapter in If You Give a Bat a Burger which is fantastic and I'm so sad it's been a week and a half and I haven't read it yet.

Currently watching: Nothing, really. I binged a bunch of old disney movies with my friends over New Years, but I don't really plan to continue the trend.

Currently consuming: Again, nothing. I have a glass of water next to me, does that count? And I had a mint chocolate donut earlier that was amazing.

Currently craving: Honestly? A day away from people mostly. Haven't had that since before Christmas. For food? Uh... again. Nothing specific. Idk, I've had a lot of my favorite foods recently with the holidays and stuff. Not sugar. We had so many candies and desserts we had to eat from the holidays that I can't handle much more. (There's still a bunch left, hence the donut. I want to finish them before they go bad, but it's been so much sugar!)

Tagging: @gremlin-bot, @britcision, @thederpclub

[daemour]

AHHHHHHH i LOVE IT SO MUCH ATGHKJGFKSFKSFDJ i was squeeing while reading it as i was getting ready for work hehehe

I SURE HOPE I SNITCHED ON HIM lolololol

bro is LITERALLY me when it comes to sports

YES PLEASE JESUS SAVE ME FROM YOUNGJAE LMAO gOD

real life visionary of me meeting my husband bro i had NO words and he will forever hold it over my head...and i get the feeling this wooyo would do the same

"hey babe remember when you forgot to tell me how to get to the courtyard?"

"jung wooyoung i will strip you of your title if you bring it up again"

wOOOYOUGN PLEASE iccept my LOVE and SHDgkshdjkdkgkjfjk ahhhhhhhh hes so sthgkjdkfdk

if worship means gag then that would be absolutely correct lmao

EEEK I WANT TO KISS HIS SMILE

AHHGJJSKGSKJSKJ hes sO *faints* i love him mom

i love how you highlighted the differences between him and youngjae, the gentleness but teasing of wooyoung vs the brashness of youngjae!! esp during the dance where youngjae would grip yn's waist to get her attention but wooyougn jsut gently squeezed it ERJGKHKGDSKJSDGKJSDKS i love it sm tysmmmm

change of heart (j.w.y.)

pairing: suitor!wooyoung x princess!reader

genre: arranged marriage, medieval era, strangers to lovers

cw: one swear word

wc: 5k

notes: hi @daesukiii i was your secret admirer! i hope you like this fic i definitely went overboard on 😭 this was heavily inspired by the 'brave' movie!

synopsis: when you're forced into an unwilling, arranged marriage where your husband is decided by a competition with three contests, will an stranger be able to find his way into your life to befriend you and turn your future around?

you sat on your throne, picking at your fingernails while waiting for the clans to arrive. to your right sat your father, and to his right sat your mother, and your brother jongho sat in his throne to your left. he was trying to catch your gaze so he could apologise, except you had no intentions of forgiving him anytime soon. he had told your mother about your complaining towards this whole arranged marriage; since then, your mother had been keeping an exceptionally close eye on you, determined to make you look as “presentable for the suitors” as possible.

upon jongho poking your arm, you snapped your head to him, giving him the worst glare you could muster, which didn’t faze him at all. he gave you a gummy smile at your narrowed eyes, before leaning over to you, speaking quietly, “i am sorry, truly, but i thought it would be really funny… and it is!” he laughed at his own words, leaning back into his seat. you honestly had half a mind to snitch on him to your mother about the real reason why there were muddy footprints everywhere in the throne room yesterday. “i will kill you!” you whisper-shouted at him, sending him a threatening look, resulting in a harsh call of your name from your mother. you turned to her, and found her glaring at you with her index finger raised to her lips shushing you. you spluttered, gesturing to jongho, “he started it!” “it does not matter who started it! the suitors will be here in any minute and you are still not sitting up straight!” she responded sternly, facing the entrance of the room to indicate the end of the conversation. oh, you were so going to snitch on that little bastard.

before you could think of any other plans to get back at jongho, the grand doors to the throne room opened. out of instinct, you straightened your back and placed your crossed hands on your lap. the three clans marched in, each led by their leading lord and his son, who was to be a suitor for your betrothal. as the clans settled in their respective areas, you distinctly heard jongho scoffing at one of the suitors flexing his muscles. your mother began her speech about the three challenges the suitors will have to compete in for your hand in marriage. you blocked out her words, having heard it one too many times while she was practising, your eyes accidentally landing on possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. you prayed to every deity in existence you hadn’t stared at him for too long.

you waited impatiently for the first two lords to introduce themselves as clan park and clan kim respectively, unable to contain a smile forming when it was time for the third and final clan to introduce themselves. “your majesty, i present my heir and only son, wooyoung, who single-handedly took down a fleet of 1,000 men, and retrieved the ships the once-standing clan chun had stolen from clan kim and clan lee.” ‘wooyoung’ stood confidently, hands resting on the hilt of his sword, the tip of the impressive weapon pressed against the stony ground. when the focus was no longer on him, you caught sight of wooyoung shaking his head subtly, holding an aggravated expression on his face. you couldn’t help but tilt your head in confusion over his behaviour, but decided to push it to the back of your head, turning to look at your mother once more.

you took your seat on your throne, now moved outdoors to watch the first challenge: javelin throwing. the suitors took their places behind the line, each standing next to the javelin they chose. park youngjae of clan park was first. he swiftly picked up his javelin, throwing with ease, turning away without looking at where it landed to blow you an arrogant kiss, smirking at the loud cheers from the members of clan park and letting out a holler himself, flexing his muscles smugly again. you stared at him, appalled and disturbed at his actions, giving a pleading look at a laughing jongho, silently begging him to put you out of your misery.

next was kim chanwook of clan kim. he walked a few metres away from the line, before charging forward and letting go of his javelin. you had to contain your snickers over the pathetic landing a mere 20 metres away from the line out of politeness. you hadn’t even thought such a low score was possible. your father sucked in a deep breath through his teeth from beside you, “i would have run off in shame if i were him. poor guy.”

wooyoung was the final contestant. he tossed his javelin lazily, barely putting any effort in, scoring himself a solid 45 metres. you couldn’t help but find it impressive; despite his attempt at a weak throw, the distance of his javelin was a good score. good to know someone’s fed up as well, though, you thought to yourself. your father nudged you with his shoulder, leaning closer to you to whisper, “he definitely could have beat mister show-off here.” he gestured to youngjae. you nodded at his words, earning yourself a scowl from your mother. you were also almost certain you were the only one who noticed wooyoung scoffing at youngjae basking in the compliments from the circle of servants and maids alike who had crowded around him.

though you were glad you could relate to wooyoung about the ridiculousness of this all, you silently wished he would at least try in the competitions, deeply hoping he would be the winner, and allow you to take his hand in marriage.

you laid in bed, tossing and turning, unable to find comfort in your normally cosy bed. your mind constantly travelled to wooyoung, finding irritation in how he hadn’t spared a single glance at you all day, behaving as if the whole purpose of the competition wasn’t for you. perhaps that was a little hypocritical of you to think– hating this forced marriage yet wanting a slimmer of attention from one of the attractive suitors more than anything.

as you threw your thin duvet off, goosebumps travelled down your entire body for a second and caused you to shiver slightly. you swung your legs off the bed, hoping a walk around the castle corridors would soothe your head. retrieving the unused candle from your bedside drawer, you lit it up using the torch and stepped out of your room, eying up and down the empty corridors, only a select few soldiers standing near every entrance, seeming to be dozing off.

your hands trailed along the stone-built walls to support the dim lighting from your candle, attempting to ignore the pounding feeling in your chest over any dangers that could be lurking around the corners. despite jongho’s continuous convincing of how safe your castle was, your gut couldn’t help but send signals of something different about tonight. you paused in your tracks, debating whether to continue or not. breathing out through your nose, you listened to the voice in your head and turned around, deciding to return to your room after all.

you managed to make around fifteen steps before a body walked straight into you. you jumped backwards, instinctively shoving the candle in the person’s face, illuminating wooyoung’s stoic expression. “oh. it’s you,” you stated simply, silently berating yourself for acting so embarrassingly in front of him. he raised an eyebrow, “you are not asleep, princess?” you shrugged, “couldn’t sleep. then again, neither are you.” he looked away for a second, before focusing his gaze back on you, “that’s fair.”

the awkward tension in between you was palpable, neither of you speaking aloud, his eyes remaining on your figure while yours darted anywhere but him. “well, i shall see you tomorrow, then.” he manoeuvred around you, beginning to walk away from you. you couldn’t let this opportunity go now. you had to do something.

he turned back at you, sounding confused as he asked, “yes, princess?” you were just as confused as him for a moment, before letting go of his sleeve. you hadn’t realised you grabbed it in the spur of the moment. you opened and closed your mouth, attempting to form your words. he gave you a small smile, almost to encourage you. swallowing thickly, you ignored your flaming cheeks and answered him, “we have a courtyard. it is my favourite spot to escape a sleepless night.” you mentally pat your back, congratulating yourself for managing to speak to him without stuttering, sending him one last glance before turning back once more to return to your room.

“you have not told me its location.”

fuck.

you turned back around sheepishly, avoiding his expectant eyes while rubbing the back of your neck, “continue down this hallway and go down the corridor at the first turn on your right. the courtyard should be a few metres down.” your face was burning up, and it was definitely reddening. you could only hope wooyoung took it as an illusion from your candle and his.

he nodded with an amused smile, raising his eyebrows, “alright. thank you, princess.” he bowed slightly, leaving you to your own thoughts in the middle of the corridor as the light to his candle fades in the distance.

you sat at the empty dining hall, having woken up earlier than anyone in the castle. it was a habit you found yourself having picked up a week before the suitors arrived. perhaps the peace and tranquillity of being by yourself grounded you subconsciously.

needless to say, you weren’t expecting the grand doors to open slowly. you looked up from your plate, startled, only relaxing until you met the soft gaze of wooyoung.

“apologies. i did not realise anyone would be awake already,” he spoke with such tenderness you never thought was possible. “neither,” you replied, gesturing at the empty seat to your left for him to sit. he obliged, albeit hesitantly, clearly unfamiliar with what to do to get his breakfast.

you nodded once to the servant by your right, “he shall have the same as me, please.” she responds with a great bow, scuttling off to inform the cooks and other servants. your focus returns to wooyoung, who had his head tilted in curiosity. “what is it?” you ask politely, finding his unfaltering gaze unsettling. “nothing. i have just never seen a princess be so… kind to her servants.” you frowned slightly at that. the way you treated your servants earlier was the bare minimum, just how bad were the princesses he’s met before? his meal arrived soon enough, brought to him by a different servant, and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence.

“so what-” you were interrupted by the bursting of the grand doors to the dining hall, accompanied by loud clamouring from the rest of the suitors and their servants. wooyoung stood to move away from you so as to not be branded a cheater by attempting to get closer to you in private times.

“and what do we have here? our beloved princess and a sneaky little fox?” youngjae laughed loudly, but there was no humour behind it. he nudged chanwook by his arm, gesturing for him to chime in as well, though from his expression, it was more of a command from youngjae. “y-yes, it seems so, youngjae.”

he wrinkled his nose in disgust, “do not call me by my name.” he bumps past chanwook to loop an arm around wooyoung’s shoulder, squeezing around his torso, almost as a threat, “so? anything to say for yourself, jung? or will this be a problem i will have to bring up to the majesties-” “i asked for him.”

youngjae faltered at your now standing form, stuttering a little, “w-what? what, uh,” he chuckled nervously before continuing, “what are you talking about, princess?” you stepped around the corner of the table to stand in front of both wooyoung and youngjae, plastering a stern look, initiating the one permanently etched on your mother’s face, “i asked for him. is that a problem, park youngjae?”

he immediately stepped back, putting a distance between both you and wooyoung, bitterness leaving his tongue as he spoke, “no, it is not. you are the princess, after all.”

he left swiftly, yanking on chanwook’s arm to follow, leaving only you and wooyoung along with a few servants remaining in the room. you released the breath you had been holding, having lost your appetite now. “you didn’t have to do that, princess. i would have left on my own volition,” wooyoung murmured, finding it difficult to meet your eyes for the first time since he met you.

“is there a reason why i should not have done what i did?” you replied back with sincerity, beginning to doubt your previous actions. wooyoung was silent for a few seconds, and you thought he was trying to find a way to thank you, until he opened his mouth: “do not ever do that again.”

you blinked, and suddenly you were left alone in the dining hall.

what?

afternoon came and it was time for the second contest. you sat on your throne once again to watch the suitors take their places behind the lines, ready to run. you couldn’t help but frown at wooyoung’s lack of interest at you, a strong wave of deja vu washing over you .his eyes only trained at the finishing line in front; you thought you had been getting closer with each other, but at the same time, you weren’t so sure you wanted to speak to him at the moment either way.

the pistol rings and the suitors sprint off. your father hollers in excitement, cheering the suitors on, egging jongho to do the same as well. your breath hitched as the suitors got closer and closer to the line, approximately 30 metres away.

25 metres.

youngjae was in the lead.

20 metres.

wooyoung overtook him.

15 metres.

youngjae quickly regained his spot.

10 metres.

wooyoung ran with a sudden burst of energy.

5 metres…

4…

3…

2…

1…

youngjae won.

you exhaled sharply. wooyoung turned to your direction, meeting your strained face. he turned away immediately.

your mother jerked her head once towards youngjae. you swallowed with difficulty, getting up from your throne and making your way over to him, passing by wooyoung in the process. you didn’t bother sparing him a single glance.

“congratulations, young lord park,” you spoke stiffly, tempted to tug your hand away from him as he held it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of it. “why, thank you, princess. do i get a prize now?” he barked out a greasy laugh, wiggling his eyebrows at you suggestively. “no,” you responded simply, retracting your hand from his grasp.

youngjae’s expression turned cold, his snarky attitude morphing into a disdainful one, “i see.” his eyes landed on wooyoung’s behind you, a smirk growing on his face. he looked back at you, “no worries, princess.”

you could practically see the gears running inside his head.

you found yourself sitting alone on the ground of your courtyard, a book perched on your lap. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t focus on its contents. your mind was befuddled from the idea of having to marry youngjae, given the chances of that happening was growing with the way he had won both contests, and was likely to win the third one. you shuffled further backwards, allowing the shadows of the large tree engulf you whole, hiding you away from even the stars’ sights. 

you closed the book, shutting your eyes briefly, focusing on the sound of crickets chirping quietly and the gentle swishing of the leaves, until the calmness was broken by two chittering servants walking past. you moved your ear to the general direction, hoping to eavesdrop in their conversation for some form of entertainment. 

“did you hear lord jung’s talk with his son earlier? what was his name again?” “wooyoung,” the other servant finished for her friend, “i did hear. miyeon told me everything. he said he didn’t want to marry the princess, right? that’s why he’s losing on purpose.” you faltered at that, did you truly read into his behaviour too much? “i know. so unexpected! the princess is one of the sweetest people i’ve ever met, why would he not want to marry her?” you smiled at the servant’s words, finding it refreshing to have a good reputation amongst the residents of the castle. 

“i suppose he thinks he’s too young to marry, and i agree with him. i mean, we’re both the same age as the princess, and i’d be mortified at the thought of having to marry so soon!” the two girls murmured in agreement, before the first servant continued, “i do feel horrible for the princess, though. she’s most likely to end up with the young lord park, and the heavens know what he’s doing to her.” your ears perked up, eyebrows furrowing over what she said. “what do you mean?” the second servant voiced your question out, seeming just as unaware as you. 

“have you not heard the rumours? he’s been telling everyone about how the princess approached him and has been in an attitude because he rejected her.” you sat up completely straight at that, fighting the urge to cry out in bewilderment. “how do you know it’s just a rumour?” “my brother was there at the dining hall that day. he himself served young lord jung his breakfast. young lord park was the one who was turned down by the princess.” the second servant scoffed quietly, “how pathetic of him!” 

“shush!” the first girl hissed, speaking much quieter now, “do not forget, we are still below the suitors, no matter how horrid they are. should they hear what we’re saying, they’ll come for our heads!” their retreating footsteps fade after a few seconds and you could only assume they had a silent exchange in glances to continue their gossip later, away from prying ears. you leaned back against the bark of the tree again. you had to tell jongho. 

you never got the opportunity to. your mother spent the entirety of the next morning dressing you up in extravagant wear, chiding you for not presenting yourself as desirable for the suitors earlier. you were reminded constantly by her that you would have to prepare to be a suitable wife for your husband soon, no matter who he will be. 

you didn’t see wooyoung either. he wasn’t present at breakfast nor did you see him during the time before the third and final contest; contrasting to youngjae, who seemed to be everywhere, flirting with the maids and proudly bragging about his archery skills, which was the sport of the day. chanwook stuck close to his father throughout the morning, whinging to him and looking like he was on the verge of tears. 

you felt your mother pat your cheek with her palm, driving you out of your thoughts. her lips were pursed into a tense line as she caressed your cheekbone back and forth, beginning to speak in a hushed tone, “i know you do not want any of this, my daughter, but you must also realise it is necessary. breaking this betrothal could harm our kingdom deeply, you know this.” you exhaled deeply, shutting your eyes in defeat, “i do.” she nodded once in satisfaction, stepping back and moving to leave your room, “i shall see you at the field in a while, then.”

moving to your window, your eyes scanned the large field below. it was filled with men from the three clans, servants and maids from your own castle, the three lords bickering with each other by the front, and their sons, the suitors, standing behind a white line, facing a target stood up at a long distance from him. you noticed wooyoung was on the field, fixing the bow in his hand. judging from his nervous stance, you suspected he was not experienced in archery. almost as if he could hear your thoughts, his head tilted up to the direction of your tower, until he met your shocked eyes through the glass window of your room. you immediately recoiled backwards until your back touched the wall opposite the window, a few metres away from where you were just now. you swallowed thickly out of nervousness before making your way down to the field.

the conversation between the two servants from last night still ran wild in your head. if what they said was true, if wooyoung was truly losing on purpose, then this contest is pointless, for chanwook stood no chance against youngjae. you feel the frustration inside your body bubbling up, though you suspect it was mixed with the bottled up dread and anger towards marrying a complete stranger, his obnoxious behaviour only adding to it. “hey,” jongho’s concerned voice rang in your left ear. you turned to look at his worried eyes, his hand reaching for your shoulder, “are you okay?” you batted his hand away with a reassuring smile, “i’m fine.” he was about to say more, but was interrupted by the loud bellow of the starting horn to indicate the beginning of the contest. knowing his personality, he would bug you about what was bothering you until you gave it up, though. 

youngjae pulled his string backwards, flexing his muscles intentionally to swoon the multiple servants standing behind him. deja vu kicked in for the second time when you saw wooyoung roll his eyes once again, and your frown morphed into a barely concealed smile subconsciously. before you realise it, youngjae had already released his arrow, landing on the red circle of the target, only a few centimetres away from the yellow centre. you were impressed by how he played off his embarrassment, however. he commented coolly about the scorching sun being in his eyes and locking eyes with wooyoung menacingly, almost daring him to do any better than him. 

you didn’t bother paying any attention to chanwook, only concentrating on wooyoung’s microexpressions. your attempts proved futile when he carried a blank face throughout chanwook’s failing try, the wailing boy scoring himself null points when his arrow landed nowhere near his target. you wished you could say you ignored wooyoung the same way you did to chanwook, but you couldn’t. you were transfixed on his smooth movements and the way he seemed to tug on the string of his bow with ease, youngjae’s sniggers having no effect on him whatsoever.

you’ve already planned out how your new life with youngjae would be. you would have to worship the grounds he walks on, praise his every miniscule movement even if it was something as simple as breathing, stand by his side permanently to make him look good-

your nightmarish thoughts were cut short by your father’s whoops, along with jongho jumping up as well, their excitement so contagious even your mother was unable to help but stand and clap. you instinctively followed her movements, moving up to your feet but raising an eyebrow in confusion, what were they cheering for? that was when you saw it. 

wooyoung’s arrow.

shot dead centre of the target.

you stared in astonishment, realising your previous assumptions about wooyoung being inexperienced had been entirely wrong. when you flickered your eyes to him, he was already watching you, and you would’ve said he was watching you emotionlessly had his sparkling eyes not given him away. you knew then, he was just as exhilarated as you were. 

“it does not matter, though, does it?” youngjae’s voice boomed over all the music and cheering. the field turned quiet once more as everyone listened intently to his echoing words. “i won the first two contests. i win overall, no?” there were a series of agreeing murmurs, wooyoung’s bright eyes flashing with worry over them. “no.” for a moment, you wondered where the voice came from, until you realised from all the peering eyes that you were the one who spoke out. 

you breathed in deeply, stepping down from the small platform and out into the sun, walking slowly and steadily towards the suitors. your mind was screaming for you to turn back around, to accept your fate with youngjae, to listen to your mother and simply be the perfect wife; but your heart overrode every indecisive word in your brain. “it wouldn’t be fair on woo- on young lord jung to discredit this spectacular win,” you gestured to wooyoung’s arrow, mentally cringing over how over-dramatised your words are, yet they seemed to be convincing enough for the people, as another wave of murmurs came about. 

“princess-” “we shall have one final contest to determine the final winner,” you cut youngjae off short, finding delight in the way he begrudgingly shut his mouth. you allowed a few tense moments to pass before revealing, “a dance.” “a dance?!” he spluttered incredulously, spinning around to watch others’ reactions. “i don’t see a problem with it,” wooyoung retorted, speaking from behind him. “of course you don’t,” youngjae sneered at him. there was a deadly silence until your father clapped awkwardly, “well! if the princess decides on a dance, then a dance it shall be to decide the final suitor! whichever suitor– young lord park or young lord jung, wins the heart of our daughter shall be her future husband!” 

you sat on the stool by your vanity, putting on your accessories and checking yourself in the mirror, doing anything to calm down the nerves in your system and your pounding heart. you heard a knock from outside your bedroom door and you called them in. 

jongho, all dressed up in his princely attire, peeked around your door, coming inside and shutting the door behind him. he makes himself comfortable on the edge of your bed before opening his mouth, “choose jung.” you looked at him through your mirror wordlessly, before standing up to smooth out your grand ball gown. you dared yourself to ask, “why?”

jongho rolled his eyes, giving you an exasperated face, “i know you. you are my sister, after all. you like him.” he stood to help with your necklace when he saw you struggling, “besides, i hear things too, you know.” he didn’t need to say it aloud for you to know he was indicating the rumours youngjae started.

he stepped back, allowing you to turn around and look at him gratefully. “thank you, you can be really helpful sometimes when you’re not absolutely annoying.” he let out a loud laugh at your words, shrugging slightly. he held out his elbow for you to take, which you did, and he guided the both of you to the ballroom.

you loitered around the busy ballroom, eyes moving from one excited person to another. you were glad everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same when you couldn’t even find wooyoung. you already had a dance with youngjae earlier, and it was uncomfortable, to say the least. he spent the entire dance bragging to you about his achievements and gripping your waist tightly to bring your attention back to him whenever your eyes strayed. 

you were worrying endlessly over your fate. if, by the end of the night, wooyoung hadn’t come to find you and ask for a dance, youngjae would be the automatic winner by default. he would indeed be the final suitor and become your husband.

“may i have this dance?” someone tapped your shoulder gently. you spun around to meet wooyoung’s awaiting eyes, and words couldn’t describe the relief you felt seeing his now familiar smile. “you may,” you placed your hand on his outstretched one, following his steps to the centre of the ballroom.

you allowed a few uncomfortable moments to pass before blurting out, “why are you doing this?” the question you had been pondering for the past few hours would finally be answered now. wooyoung unintentionally clenched his hand resting on your waist at your words, before he relaxed once more, his fingers tracing circles around the area he just squeezed on accident. “should i not be?”

you pursed your lips at how vague his answer was. he noticed your reaction and modified it, “i meant, as a suitor, is that not what i am expected to do?” you contemplated whether to tell him what you heard from the servants or not, before deciding on a half-truth, “i suppose it was odd, considering what you said that morning and the unwillingness you had been carrying for the past week. it left the impression you were not looking to marry me…

wooyoung chuckled at your hesitance, choosing to answer you truthfully this time, “ah, i see. no, princess, i merely would not allow youngjae to stir up rumours about me cheating my way into winning, which caused my harsh reaction. i do apologise for that,” he flashed you a comforting smile, “and you should know, princess, i actually do enjoy sports quite a lot. ironically, i am the best at javelin throwing and archery. well, not so much in running.” you laughed softly at his last comment.

“i will admit, ashamedly, i had been pretending not to be the athlete my father promotes frequently– not at all to do with you, princess, of course. i simply was not sure i was ready to marry yet,” wooyoung paused for a couple of seconds, sucking in a deep breath through his teeth and continuing, “after the second contest, however, i’ve had a change of heart, you see. what young lord park said…” he shook his head in disappointment, “how could i let such a vile man marry the sweetest soul i’d ever met?” you found yourself shying into your figure at his comment, head lowering to look at his shoes until he squeezed your waist gently, causing you to look up at his endearing face again.

“but i suppose it all boils down to your decision now, does it not?” he tilted his head playfully, his eyes twinkling with mischief. neither of you had to voice out the fact that wooyoung had already won from the start.

networks: @kflixnet k-labels kbookshelf neverendingdreams-net straykidsland @k-films @pirateeznet

[msclaritea]

Upon the Clear Distinction Between Fandom and the Baker Street Irregulars

BY LYNDSAY FAYE

November 30, 2012

In light of the ever-expanding popularity of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries in conjunction with recent adaptations including the Warner Brothers films, the BBC series, and the CBS reimagining, it falls to me to discuss certain disturbing tendencies on the part of new devotees to refer to that venerable institution, the Baker Street Irregulars, as a “fandom” when it is actually a literary society. The youth of the Sherlockian world will be excused for making this dare I say elementary error, since the case for the distinction has not been hitherto laid out. Following the summation of this article, however, fans and traditional Sherlockians alike will have reached a much clearer understanding, and the unfortunate misnomer of referring to the present Irregulars as a “fandom” will doubtless cease and be swiftly forgotten.

(Note: for the purposes of this intellectual exercise, the possibility that the BSI may potentially be a storied and erudite literary society and a happily thriving fandom simultaneously will be ignored. This decision was made in light of the fact that a noun cannot be two things concurrently, the way the Empire State Building is not both a functioning office tower and a tourist destination, and the way Bill Clinton is not both a former president and a saxophone player. Arguments that the BSI is peopled by both cultured readers and by eager fans would only muddy the issue, and therefore will not be entertained here.)

According to the Online Etymology Dictionary, the word fandom dates from 1903 and is defined simply as “the realm of avid enthusiasts.” Although undoubtedly a positive, even a flattering definition, already we can see that this is an inaccurate way of describing the Baker Street Irregulars, founded in January of 1934 by Doubleday editor Christopher Morley and later permanently established as the premier Sherlockian society by Edgar W. Smith. While the BSI was conceived as a group of congenial, clubbable men who admittedly shared an avid enthusiasm for the Great Detective, no mention whatsoever is made in the definition of fandom of a taste for adult beverages, and the drinking of toasts to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s characters, which is of such import to the group as to be codified in the BSI’s by-laws. As a matter of fact, the words “Sherlock Holmes” appear nowhere in this document, while the words “drunk,” “drink,” “round,” and “toast” occur six times in the brief record. Describing the BSI as a fandom is thus clearly a counterfactual practice, and should be treated as such.

Of note, because the dates could potentially lead to confusion, is the fact that the Irregulars were founded in 1934 in New York City, at very close to the identical time period when the science fiction fandom was forming convivial societies of “avid enthusiasts” in order to discuss space travel, interplanetary colonization, their whip-smart literary contributions, and large-chested alien females. The Futurians, according to Frederik Pohl’s autobiography, were founded in 1934 in New York City; the Scienceers were founded in 1929 in New York City; the Los Angeles Fantasy Society was founded in 1934 in Los Angeles; and the National Fantasy Fan Federation was founded in 1941 in Boston. These societies in no way resembled the BSI, however, for their purpose was to discuss speculative, fictional adventures, while the BSI’s purpose (apart from toasting) was to discuss Sherlock Holmes. The Grand Game, as it’s called, a form of meta-scholarship, bears but scant resemblance to the doings of folk who pen Middle-Earth chronologies and dictionaries of the Klingon language. Those who suggest the BSI is a fandom will also note that, as a literary society, the BSI has always been peopled with thinkers and literary luminaries such as Isaac Asimov, while the Futurians boasted as one of their members Isaac Asimov, who was undoubtedly a different Isaac Asimov to the deservedly admired creative philosopher invested in the Irregulars.

One of the most self-evident differences between the Irregulars and those involved in fandom is the latter’s tendency to memorize an enormous amount of trivia regarding their specific preoccupations, be those preoccupations Battlestar Galactica or fiction featuring anthropomorphized dragons. A member of the Star Trek fandom, for instance, could readily inform an outsider that when Captain Picard was captured by the Cardassians, he insisted despite being cruelly tortured that the number of lights shown to him numbered four; such remarkable displays of knowledge are all too common among fandom enthusiasts. Invested members of the BSI could undoubtedly inform non-Sherlockians that Sherlock Holmes’s ancestors were country squires, that John Watson was an invalided member of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers, and that Holmes is on record as having possessed three dressing gowns (blue, purple, and mouse), but as these are matters of historical fact, knowledge of them is much more akin to familiarity with the Gettysburg Address. I say again: do not succumb to lazy terminology and misidentify the BSI as a fandom. The one is concerned with an exceedingly popular series of crime stories, and the other is concerned with pop culture.

The activities of fans vs. traditional Sherlockians are hugely divergent. While fans come together to discuss their favorite sci-fi stories, television shows, and films, Sherlockians confine their conversation (and toasts) exclusively to the sixty stories, referred to as the “canon.” No mention is made of adaptations of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries; indeed, it is safe to say that the BSI as a whole is unaware of such bastardizations of the original writings, if indeed such things as movies and television shows based on the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle exist, which is doubtful. In addition, fandom engages in a pastime termed “cosplay,” defined by Wikipedia as “a type of performance art in which participants don costumes and accessories to represent a specific character or idea.” Such behavior would be anathema to a Baker Street Irregular, some of whom have been photographed dressing in Victorian garb and deerstalker hats.

Denizens of the fandom community fail to confine their “avid enthusiasm” to mere discussion of hobbits and tribbles; they also, as a group, have a marked tendency to collect memorabilia relevant to their favorite characters, spending precious funds in pursuit of items such as action figures and animation cells. A comic book collector would think absolutely nothing of paying triple digits for a prized mint-condition issue of Spider-Man, for example, while my copy of the 1892 issue of the Strand Magazine…no, strike that, I beg your pardon, the comparison is similar but ultimately misleading. Irregulars of my acquaintance have amassed collections of Sherlock Holmes art, Sherlock Holmes books, Sherlock Holmes knickknacks, Sherlock Holmes pins, Sherlock Holmes translations, Sherlock Holmes reference volumes, and Sherlock Holmes talismans such as magnifying glasses or pipes, but as these are clearly objets d’art, they find no equivalency within the realm of fandom.

It is of particular importance to note that fandom participants often write what is termed fanfiction, fictional works featuring their beloved characters in various situations of the fan’s own imagining, defined as “stories about characters or settings written by fans of the original work, rather than by the original creator.” Whenever a writer pens a story about a character created by another author, that tale falls under the umbrella of fanfiction, a practice that the Baker Street Irregulars would find both mystifying and vaguely distasteful. In fact, the mere concept of writing new stories starring characters not belonging to the author would strike dismay into the hearts of the BSI, who very often write and read pastiches featuring Sherlock Holmes and John Watson (a pastiche is defined as “a work of art, literature, film, music, or architecture that openly imitates the work of a previous artist”). As you have already recognized, no doubt, pastiche is entirely different from fanfiction, as fanfiction is specified as being penned by fans, and as I have argued previously, the Baker Street Irregulars are not fans but rather a literary society, and thus are categorically incapable of writing fanfiction. The notion that they could be both we have already dismissed as specious.

One must bear in mind as well the ironclad argument that the BSI was founded in the tradition of the great metropolitan men’s clubs of the 1930s, and thus bears no resemblance whatsoever to fandoms, which are largely concerned with grown men and women wearing tights. I find this line of reasoning particularly compelling, since it is common knowledge that once a group forms around a certain idea, it remains always the identical entity, indistinguishable in its modern incarnation from its origins, free from growth, change, or adaptation. Admittedly the BSI is no longer exclusively for men, but that is an admirable mark of progress and should be considered accordingly. Just as the company Apple Inc. sells small personal circuit boards hand-crafted by the artist Steve Wozniak (keyboard and screen not included), the BSI is emphatically not a fandom. And please stop referring to them by such blatantly fallacious terminology.

Lastly, a word upon the subject of respect for the gentleman who made our literary society possible, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. There are some who take mild offense to those who speak of the BSI as a fandom, but I am not of their number, though it is worth mentioning out of deference that Doyle would certainly be outraged by the term. So beloved a character was Sherlock Holmes to Doyle that he spoke of him always with the soft light of adoration in his eyes and a flush upon his cupid’s cheeks, joy suffusing his features whensoever the subject of his masterful sleuth was raised. Were Doyle to be reanimated and exposed to the neophytes who ignore all discrepancies and insist upon wrongly identifying the BSI as a fandom, his mighty love for his hero would so overwhelm him, and his fury at the misidentification swell into so vast a storm cloud of righteous rage, that he would probably decide to remain alive simply for the pure, unadulterated pleasure he derived from writing the Sherlock Holmes mysteries, and would deliver unto us sixty more cases. And lo, global warming would be reversed, and he would find a cure for herpes.

I trust that this article clears up any remaining confusion regarding the word fandom, and its woeful inexactitude when characterizing the Baker Street Irregulars. I likewise hope I have assured the reader the BSI cannot be both a respected literary society and a fandom, any more than Australia can be both a continent and an island. One earnestly hopes that this will settle the matter for good and all, and we can move on to other, better topics. In the meanwhile, I am going to don my deerstalker and write a story in which Sherlock Holmes fights the Cardassians, that being the sort of activity relevant to my interests. Thank you.

1. Am I wrong or is this a bit rude?

2. Why don’t we hear more stories about how Doyle actually loved Holmes? It’s as though people want the character to be remembered as hated.

Lyndsay Faye is the author of Dust and Shadow and The Gods of Gotham from Amy Einhorn Books/Putnam. She tweets @LyndsayFaye.

@elwinglyre @sarahthecoat @sussexbound @fellshish @artfulkindoforder @johnlockedness @ebaeschnbliah @tjlcisthenewsexy @madzither

source

[seas-of-ios]

review of Dark Rise, cs pacat

okay, OKAY I finished Dark Rise. and whoooo boy, folks were not lying about the ending packing a punch.

despite that, I'm giving it a solid B-, or 3 stars out of 5 (which my beloved hs english teacher would say is a good grade!). my biggest criticism is that it reads like a gritty reboot of susan cooper's Dark is Rising sequence, right down to the name of the main character. and tbh susan did it better. (if you’ve never read those books I highly recommend them - they have a sense of weight and grandeur that Dark Rise lacks, while simultaneously being much simpler books). the narrative framework of the Good vs Evil binary was entertaining 50 years ago but seems unjustified and frankly uninteresting today. it is simply irrelevant to my concerns and interests about the real world that good fiction ought to help a reader explore. that said, as I was promised there are a handful of extremely satisfying and exciting plot twists in the second half of the book. none of that makes up for the tired premise however, imo. (EDIT some more thoughts here)

foolishly, I had assumed this book was a standalone. it is emphatically Not That. realizing that actually made me more forgiving about some of the pacing problems and my frustration, as the book was reaching the end, of unresolved plot threads. learning that it is the first in a trilogy gives me more leniency about the slow start and the way the first half of the novel feels mostly like setup. I still think it probably could have been edited down by 15 or 20% and it’s bad form for a book to be doing little except setting up for the next book.

however, her (presumably) endgame pairing is DELICIOUSLY fucked up (in fact possibly more fucked up than D/L even at their worst, which is saying something) and I am, for better or for worse, looking forward to the next book. (it had better not take as long as Kings Rising took)

spoilery squeeing and complaints under the cut. (I mean extreme spoilers)

Omg omg omg??? THAT ENDING. I need to reread to see at which point Will understood what parts but omigoshhhh. That ending redeemed a LOT of my complaints about the book.

the reveal at the end actually makes a lot more sense out of Katherine and Will’s instant attraction - I was feeling extremely disgruntled and disappointed with that whole storyline until the very end. It struck me as way too "hets in mandatory love" when James was RIGHT THERE and we were given so much more foreshadowing about Will's attraction to James than to Catherine. and I was so annoyed with pacat bc we KNOW she can do better about romantic tension! but it was fate so i guess it’s fine.

definitely was not expecting Katherine to die! that nipped that love triangle right in the bud, which was a relief tbh. can't wait for Will and James to finish the most complicated dance of enemies to allies to friends to enemies to lovers dance ever written. the draco-in-leather-pants vibe is STRONG, but by the end I was so invested in James and Will for themselves that I stopped making comparisons, so that was good. in some ways the whole book felt like a set up to the actual story of their relationship. it felt like it wasn’t until the last fifth of the book that we actually got to parts I really cared about. I wish she could have done it in fewer words.

I can't help but feel that no one in this book has a personality or voice quite as strong as Laurent or Damen (or even Nik or Lazar, etc). their voices are not very distinct from one another when I think about trying to write to any of them. except maybe Cyprian, who stands out extremely strongly in the edge of nastiness to his honor and righteousness. Will does remind me so strongly of Will Stanton from the Dark is Rising sequence (whom I also find difficult to write). his uncertainty and nobility interspersed with moments of inhuman confidence and knowledge. the similarity did a lot to endear me to pacat’s will - *smooches him* - although I guess that’s not glowing praise for the book.

so many multi shipping opportunities? hallelujah. also I straight up laughed out loud when pacat introduced the collar. she is soooo predictable, and thank god for that because it is so wonderful. I need me some fic immediately where Will put it on him in that scene. or even better where James begs him to put it on. Sometime later, with the truth of their past a messy tangle between them, and Will keeps pushing James away because he is fighting fate and James is so frustrated with Will because James finally has the ability to ask for what he wants and Will isn't giving it to him and he finally breaks down and snaps "I wish you would put it on me..." Mmmm, sorry ok, I'm done.

but fun thoughts aside I’m worried that the “YA” designation is going to stop her from going anywhere really interesting with that relationship. given how milquetoast everything else about the premise is, the only thing that could save this trilogy from mediocrity is a REALLY satisfyingly fucked up relationship arc.

there were some serious places that needed more foreshadowing. Devon came out of nowhere as a character, halfway through (and wtf was that one scene from his POV where he kills the dude???). He needed to turn up in the first scene on the docks. maybe he did just as a white haired boy and I didn't notice. also, as some folks pointed out on goodreads (in what I thought were some unfortunately accurate 2 star reviews...) the sense of time passing in this book is screwy, and a lot of the rapport and relationship building felt elided or unearned. Justice and Violet’s relationship (HUGE shipping potential there btw) goes from tentative to shield-mates in just a handful of chapters. I was happily anticipating a showdown between Violet and Tom but I assume that is something that will come in future books, so I can’t make it a black mark against this book.

pacat is setting herself up to do a narrative about fate versus free will and I hope she does it intelligently because there are SO many uninteresting things to say about that topic. I also hope she delves more into the reasons behind the Dark King’s evil. Bc "conquer and ravage the land leaving behind heaps of bodies and polluted earth" is... nonsensical? boring? meaningless? an insult to my intelligence? I will swallow that kind of thing in a children's book but when aimed at adults (or YA) it is simply eye rolling. it's so unrealistic as to lose all sense of high stakes, and it does not explore any of the questions that really interest me about why bad things happen in real life.

All in all, despite being pretty unimpressed most of the way through I am now hungry for fic and for the next book.

[olderthannetfic]

I've recently started drawing again after a long time and trying my hand at writing. I've been enjoying myself but haven't really shared my stuff or discussed it with anyone. Most of it is regular stuff, angst and such but- I also want to make things that are, well- worse. I drew my favourite character from an anime (a highschooler) with some nonconsentacles (one of the milder “bad” things I wanna make) and immediately started feeling a rush of paranoia. Do you think that's normal? I was alone in my room and had to resist the urge to look over my shoulder or at my closet, thinking some FBI agent was gonna tackle me or something. I'm not even from the US. I feel like a lot of it is irrtional but not completely right? I don't know how to go about talking about the type of art I like to make and see without worrying something bad will happen. Someone will doxx me or my friends will find out and be grossed out, or my ISP will tell the cops or something. I know there's people that would squee with me about it but I don't know how to find them or protect myself in case they react badly. I don’t know what to do.

--

The FBI is busy with actual crimes, not "horny crimes".

However, whether this is baseless paranoia depends entirely on where you live, whom you know, etc.

If you think the danger is real, I suggest investigating ISPs and seeing if yours tends to report people for things and/or if there's a safer one you could switch to. Investing in a VPN might be wise. You could set up a new fandom identity that has never been connected to your RL at all and make sure to keep it free from any personal demographic info.

For the part that's just emotional... I dunno, nonnie. Irrational fears can be hard to shake. Making friends who have good, solid boundaries and a grasp on fiction vs. reality will help. Lots of people happily post filth all the time with no consequences.

[zepskies]

Oh my God, I legit let loose a "squee" when I saw your review come in, as you're the one who inspired me to write a whole damn series out of this AU prompt! 💞 I'm very glad you enjoyed the first chapter!!

The whole buildup section was very much based on my experience that I told you about loll. Was anxiety-inducing at first, but one I reached the fire department through the radio/call button, I relaxed. It was just hot AF until they got there (yes, about 45 minutes later).

Yes, you're gonna hate her boss Nick throughout I think. He's a douchebag. But I'm also glad you liked how she named the elevator (as that tickled me too lol). 😂

Omg I was delighted to do the "research" to get down what Dean's look was going to be for the uniform. 🤤 I based a lot of it on Lt. Matthew Casey in Chicago Fire (played by the lovely Jesse Spencer).

����‍💨❤️‍🔥

You'll see more of that come into play in Part 2...

Their conversation was so cute and just edging on the side of flirty which I loved. Can I just take a second to thank you for putting in the doubt about being bodily lifted out of the elevator. Because I would absolutely have gone through all the self consciousness and doubts the reader did in that moment, no matter how much I wanted to get out.

Aww I'm so glad you loved their little meet cute moment. Yeah it was juuust on the edge of flirtation. And oh absolutely, idc how much you weigh, a person is a person and people are heavy. 😂😂

Deans reassurances we’re just lovely though, especially ““More importantly, I’ve got you. And there’s no way I’m gonna let you fall,”” because that’s just dean through and through. Reliable and protective. Perfect.

Ugh thank you, lovely. 😩 I tried very hard to get him right there, and that was one of my favorite moments to write.

LOL you're right, she does have a Cinderella-esque moment! But instead of getting her shoe back, she chucks both away. 😂

Oooh, interesting what you say about Gordon. So he won't be an antagonist exactly, but you're right to think of him as somewhat of a wild card. (I won't give away any more for you, but just to get you thinking lol.)

Nick is also meant to give you the heebs, unfortunately. He's a dick, and you'll see more of him in Part 2 (and will be an antagonist throughout).

I can tell I’m going to love grandpa George. Even in that short scene he definitely made an impact. Interesting to see the readers situation more too. Where are her parents in all this? Why is she on her own to help sort her grandad?

Ooh yes, love that you enjoyed Grandpa George, and that you're asking all these questions!! As those will all be important plot points explored in the next couple of chapters. (Fun fact: George is my real grandfather's name lol.)

I also really liked Andrea as a character and friend for the reader. Is this going to end with some double dating with benny? 😇

I enjoyed giving the reader a "canon" character friend that we actually don't know too much about, as she was only in that one episode in S8 (poor Benny 😢). It gave me license to play with her a bit, but yes, Andrea and Benny's relationship vs. the reader and Dean's relationship is going to be a key subplot as well! ❤️

I'm so, so glad you liked the start of this!! Can't wait to put out the next chapter next week. 😘💕💕

Smoke Eater - Part 1

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: "Smoke eater": a self-appointed slang term for a firefighter.

Happy Hispanic Heritage Month!! 🥳❤️‍🔥 You guys really warmed my heart with all the excitement for this story. I'm very happy to bring you the first chapter. I hope it doesn't disappoint! 😘

🔥Series Masterlist

Word Count: 4,000 Warnings: Tense situations, brief mention of claustrophobia, and a good old-fashioned meet cute.

Part 1: "Class and Style"

Come on, come on, come on!

The toe of your heeled foot tapped on the floor as you, once again, waited for the elevator to make its slow climb back up to the 22nd floor.

In your hand was a tray carrying two steaming lattes: one small, plain hazelnut, and the other a venti caramel frappe with all the sugary bells and whistles. Complete with extra whipped cream, because your boss was a goddamn child.

I shouldn’t even be getting his coffee, you thought sourly. This is his assistant’s job!

And if this elevator didn’t climb any faster, having to stop at Starbucks during your meager lunch break for your boss’s morning fix would make you late for a very important sales meeting.

“Let’s go, Betsy. Come on,” you muttered. “You can do it.”

Yes, you’d named the contraption that usually managed to carry you all the way to your correct floor. When she wasn’t broken down for maintenance. 

The four walls of the narrow elevator shook and creaked as it cleared the 20th floor. You inhaled sharply, but resisted the urge to grab the inner guardrail. This thing was old, just like the rest of the building.

But then, Betsy screeched and made an abrupt stop.

You were woefully unprepared. You slid in your heels and gasped—both at the jolt, and at the hot lattes tipping out of your hand and down your blouse and skirt.

Shit!

You didn’t even have time to wince at the scalding hot coffee, as you nearly rolled an ankle in the spillage. Luckily, you were able to grab at that guardrail. You sucked in relatively even breaths as you realized what happened…

The elevator stopped, but not on your floor.

“Oh, God…” you uttered, staring up at the red, digital “21” above the metal doors. It was blinking, but not moving. Just like you weren’t moving. Which meant…you were stuck.

Okay, not a big deal. You’re fine, you thought, trying to calm yourself. All you had on you was your phone, your ID, and your credit card. You’d decided to leave your purse in your desk, since you were just walking across the street.

But that was okay! Because you still had your phone…

“No service. Of course,” you muttered, raising your phone high to try and get a bar. This elevator was a dead zone, and it always had been. Fucking hell…

So you did the only thing you could think of.

You shouted for help.

You pressed the emergency alarm, several times.

You could hear it blare and echo outside of the chamber of the elevator, but no one seemed to hear you. Your work building was huge, made up of several departments and hundreds of employees here at Savage & Co. There was always plenty going on, especially in the middle of the morning.

Maybe no one could hear you.

“All right. Don’t…don’t panic,” you told yourself. Even though your heart was beginning to pound.

You finally pressed the “Call” button outlined in red. You didn’t know if it worked; half the floor buttons on the console didn’t even light up anymore.

But to your relief, the sound of a phone line ringing echoed through the small speaker. After a few rings, someone answered.

“Fire Department.”

“Oh, God. Yes!”

With a hand on the rail, you managed to kneel down next to the speaker. Your free hand brushed a strand of hair away from your dewy face. There was no AC in here, and you were starting to sweat. Thankfully, the rest of your hair was pulled up into a clip.

“I’m stuck in one of the oldest elevators known to man,” you told the disembodied voice.

“Sorry to hear that. What’s your name?”

You gave them your name, along with the address of your company’s building. The voice promised that they were dispatching a until to come and get you out soon.

“How soon is soon?” you asked.

“…About forty-five minutes, give or take.”

Jesus Christ.

You baked inside Betsy for close to an hour. While your makeup slowly melted, you found a corner of the ground that wasn’t covered by a coffee puddle, and you pressed the alarm button at random intervals. Still, no one seemed to hear it. You used the empty coffee tray to try and fan yourself.

Your phone was also useless. You tucked that along with your credit card into your bra for safe keeping. You’d definitely missed your meeting about the prospective Zimmerman account—one you and your coworker Josh were competing to nail down, as the top performers in the sales department. You couldn’t even catch up on your emails.

Damn it, Nick’s gonna chew my head off, you thought. But then you frowned, your brows furrowing. Well, it’s his fault for not maintaining this damn building. And for ordering a damn caramel frappe! What is he, a 12-year-old girl?

Your skirt was still sticky on the side. With a sigh, you leaned your head back against the metal wall and closed your eyes. Ah, well. At least I’m not claustrophobic.

“Fire Department!” called a man’s voice from above. “Can you hear me down there?”

You gasped and opened your eyes. Your gaze raised heavenward, and you called out to the voice.

“Hello?!”

“Ah, we found you. You okay, ma’am? Are you hurt?”

“Y-Yes…” You shook your head, even though he couldn’t see it. “I mean, no. I’m not hurt.”

“Good. That’s what I like to hear,” he said. “You’re stuck between two floors, but we’re gonna get you out, all right?”

“Okay.” You sucked in a shaky breath and grabbed the rail so you could get back onto your feet. “I’m stuck on the 21st floor right?”

“Well, in between 21 and 22. Hold on one sec.”

 You stood there with bated breath, just waiting for something to happen. You heard tools whirring, felt the elevator shutter for a moment, but it didn’t budge. Until you heard a thump on the roof. You looked up, but of course you couldn’t see what was happening.

Until a square patch in the roof was unscrewed and drawn back, revealing a firefighter in almost all his gear: wearing a gray shirt tucked into navy pants, red suspenders, black boots and gloves. All he was missing was a jacket and a hardhat.

He did wear a harness, and he held another one in his gloved hand, as well as a charming, almost boyish grin on his face.

“There you are,” he greeted.

You didn’t know if it was the lack of AC, or his ridiculously handsome features, but you felt your face heat up further.

“Uh, hi,” you said, very eloquently. You offered a smile back. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“Well, we haven’t gotten there yet, but we will,” he said, still with that grin as he lowered the second harness down to you. “I’m Dean. What’s your name?”

You gave it to him as you took the harness.

“Nice to meet you, despite the circumstances,” he said. “I’m sure you didn’t have this on your bingo card today, did ya?”

You snorted in response. “Not even in my fortune cookie.”

It earned an amused look from him. Then he proceeded to instruct you on how to put the harness on around your waist and shoulders and clip the straps together.

“Okay, good. Now tug it, make sure it’s tight enough,” Dean said, motioning with his hand. You obliged him.

“Perfect.” He nodded, before crouching down and lowering his hands through the compartment. “All right, now. Just take my hands. I’m gonna pull you up.”

You looked up at him, then and at the narrow escape hatch with uncertainty.

“It’s okay,” he said, noting your reluctance (and your white-knuckle grip on the guardrail). “It’s perfectly safe.”

“Yeah, I doubt anything about this situation is safe,” you replied wryly. You glanced at the elevator’s metal walls. Even now, they groaned under Dean’s shifting weight.

“I mean, I’m sure you’re strong and all,” you said, with a vague gesturing hand at him. You couldn’t quite tell from your limited vantage point, but Dean could barely fit his broad shoulders through the hole he’d opened up. He was probably a big guy.

Still, you didn’t like the idea of your legs dangling in mid-air. 

“I’m a woman, but I’m still a full-grown person,” you said, your brows beginning to furrow in worry. “People are heavy, and this thing is rickety as hell, and that’s a really tiny window…”

“All right,” Dean gently interrupted. He looked like he was trying hard not to chuckle, and you didn’t appreciate it…even though you were biting your lip, trying not to smile too (more in embarrassment).

“I promise you, the line’s got you,” he said. And he tugged on the sturdy rope that connected to your harness.

His eyes met yours directly, firm and assuring. They were green, you noticed, even in this fluorescent lighting.

“More importantly, I’ve got you. And there’s no way I’m gonna let you fall,” he said, with what seemed like every conviction in the world. “Just take my hands.”

He leaned in further so you could reach him.

…And damn it, you believed him.

Staring into his eyes, you found the courage to suck in a deep breath and release the guardrail. You reached up and let his hands curl tightly around yours. You gripped him right back.

“All right, pull up!” he called back over his shoulder.

You couldn’t see them, but you heard the voices of other firefighters as they slowly retracted Dean’s harness line as well as yours. When he was able to plant his feet on the roof of the elevator again, you held your breath as he pulled you all the way up as well.

You lost a heel along the way though. It fell off your foot and hit the bottom of the elevator below.

“Woops,” Dean said. His arms wrapped around you, and he held you securely against him when your heel (and bare foot) also met the elevator roof, a bit awkwardly. You both peered back down through the square hole.

“Want me to get that for you?” he offered, with another one of those grins.

Now you knew you were blushing. Stop it!

You shook your head as you clung to his arms. You felt the strength in them, and it steadied you, along with the easy way about him that said he was more than comfortable with the perils of rescuing trapped women from old-ass elevators.

“Don’t even worry about it,” you told him. “I just want to get the hell out of here.”

Dean chuckled then. “I hear ya. Let’s go, then.”

He glanced up and called out to a “Benny” and a “Gordon.” You assumed they were the men securing the harnesses that held you and Dean.

“Okay. You ready, sweetheart?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” you replied with a nod, even as you bit your lip again at the endearment. Usually when men called you sweetheart, (like your boss), it was like nails on a damn chalkboard.

But somehow, it didn’t seem so sleezy coming from the charming fireman.

You craned to looked up at his face. He was much taller than you, even with half your heels. Dean met your eyes again, and for a moment, you were tense. The elevator shaft was dark and cold, but the light from the open doors of the floor above allowed you to see his face, decorated lightly with stubble, and his brown hair that spiked to one side.

Your mouth parted, though you didn’t have a clue of what to say next…

You were saved when the lines went even more taut, and the firefighters on the floor above brought you and Dean all the way up to the 22nd floor. He helped you reach out to a bearded fireman, who supported your arms and carried you out of the elevator shaft, onto solid ground.

A small crowd had formed in the lobby. Zachariah the CFO was there, along with the building manager, and your friend Andréa, who looked both worried and relieved to see you. And even your boss, Nick, came forward to meet you once Benny and Dean helped you take off the harness.

“You’ve had a busy morning,” Nick drawled.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. “You could say that.”

Technically, he was everyone’s boss: Nick Savage, CEO of Savage & Co. He’d inherited the company from his father. However, Nick believed his one sad year of college business classes made him an expert on running your sales department with a firm hand.

“Well, it’s good to see you’re all right,” he said. Though his eyes glanced down your stained, white blouse, down to your bare foot. His gaze made your spine prickle. And not in a good way.

You crossed your arms on reflex. “I know I missed the meeting—”

“We recorded it. You’ll be able to watch it later, take notes, all that good stuff,” he said, his head tilting in that lazy way of his. He gestured at you with a finger. “But, uh…once you’re done cleaning up, think you could nip back out and get me that coffee? Since, you know, you’re kind of wearing it.”

Behind you, the team of firefighters discreetly watched the scene while packing up their gear—some with curiosity and bemusement, others (namely Dean) with a subtle frown.

You were livid.

But you managed to keep it down, just beneath your skin, as you bent down and took off your remaining heel.

“I’m requesting the afternoon off as personal time,” you informed him with (mostly) all due professionalism. There was a fire in your eyes, however, that not even you could tame.

“But don’t worry,” you said. “I’ll still land the Zimmerman account by Friday.”

You turned and dropped your shoe into a nearby garbage can. You didn’t want to be reminded of your boss every time you saw the coffee stains.

Before you left, you stopped in front of Dean and the other firefighters.

“Thank you very much for all your help,” you said, giving them all a smile. Your gaze lingered on Dean, who smiled back at you and nodded, his hands resting on his belt.

“You got it, sweetheart.”

Your lips twitched. Then you continued on your way towards the exit door, to the stairwell. You shoved it open and walked bare-footed up to your office to get your purse. 

You’d left Nick silently fuming in the middle of the hall. You knew there wasn’t too much he could do with an entire crowd of witnesses.

He soon huffed and let your behavior roll off his back, as he became distracted by Zachariah and the building manager asking about the last time the elevator was properly serviced.

Meanwhile, Dean and Benny shared an amused look as their team rolled out.

Damn, Dean thought, remembering how you’d stopped in your little storm out, just to thank them. And how you’d held your head high as you walked away on bare feet.

He could admit, you had both class and style.

“Really, Grandpa. I’m fine,” you insisted.

Now in the comfort of your own home, and in your pajamas after a nice hot shower, you stirred a pot of chicken soup for your Grandpa George. He eyed you from the kitchen table with a measure of suspicion.

“Well, it’s lucky for you we’ve got a responsive Fire Department,” he said. “In the sleepy little town I grew up in, you’d be lucky if the whole damn building didn’t cave in before somebody got to ya.”

You shot him an amused look.

“Thanks. Makes me feel better about stepping into an elevator ever again.”

George seemed to consider the prospect, but he soon waved a vague hand.

“Ah, you’ll be fine,” George said, waving a hand. “Even if one of the cables snapped, you’d have three more holdin’ you up. And it should only need one cable to support the compartment, make sure the whole thing doesn’t fall to the damn ground.”

Your grandfather had been a technician for sixty years, so he knew a little thing about commercial building maintenance. However, right now, he wasn’t making you feel any better about your somewhat perilous experience. You paled a bit at the thought of cables snapping, leading to a long, Tower of Terror-style drop.

Except there’d be nothing to catch you at the bottom.

“It’s okay. I’ll just start walking up all 22 floors up to my office every day,” you said, smiling wryly. “I’ll finally have thighs like Wonder Woman.”

George laughed, though it soon ended on a cough. You eyed him with a frown as you ladled out a bowl of soup for him. You went over to him, both to set down the bowl in front of him and rub his back.

“Still with that cough. I don’t like it,” you said. “I’m making an appointment with your doctor.”

George shook his head and grabbed his glass of water.

“Just something caught in my throat.”

“Mhmm,” you replied. He was the absolute king of downplaying. It used to drive your grandma nuts.

You sighed and raised a hand to your forehead. An ache was building behind your eyes. Or maybe it had been there since you left work early today, and you were just now realizing how tightly wound your spine was.

“You okay?” George asked. You read the concern in his eyes and tried to relax your face from its scrunching.

“Yeah. Just a tension headache.”

“Hmm. Maybe you should spend less time worrying about me, and more time taking care of yourself,” he pointed out. “You had a stressful day. Why don’t you go relax? Or better yet, go out! Go see your friends. Get in a bar fight. Something productive.”

A grin curved your lips as you raised a brow.

“A bar fight would make me more productive?”

George grinned up at you. “Well, at least it’d get you out of the house.”

You pursed your lips. There was a reason you didn’t go out very often, and your grandfather knew it. You were the only one who could watch out for him now, even if he didn’t think he needed it. Your mouth opened to reply, but before you could, your cell phone rang through the house.

For a moment, the two of you stared at one another. Until George raised his brows.

“You should get that, huh?” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him, despite your small smile, and you raised a finger as you went to get your purse over in the living room.

“We’re not done, old man,” you said over your shoulder.

“Oh, believe me. I know,” he grumbled, delving into his soup with a spoon.

Meanwhile, you fished your phone out of your purse and answered. A genuine, if tired smile graced your lips. It was your best friend, Andréa. She worked with you at Savage & Co., over in Marketing as a graphic designer.

As fate would have it, the two of you were hired on the same day five years ago. She’d invited you to lunch that day, and from then on, you two had been rocking through corporate life like Thelma and Louise—if Thelma had been a Greek artist and Louise had been a sarcastic saleswoman. 

“Hey, Dre,” you greeted.

“Hello, my love. Congratulations for surviving your near-death experience, and getting to serve Nick Savage a bit of humble pie,” she teased. “I thought you were going to lobby your Prada heel at his head.”

You huffed and plopped down on the couch with your feet up on the coffee table.

“First of all, let’s not be too dramatic. I was stuck in an elevator, not a Chilean mine shaft,” you said wryly. “Second, you really think I would throw away Prada? Even if it was coffee stained… Those were just my $30 Steve Maddens.”

And yet, they had been your most comfortable heels. Maybe you should just find some sensible flats in the back of your closet and be done with it. But you liked the height and confidence that a nice pair of heels gave you—especially in that office filled with “Mad Men” wannabes.

Every male on your sales team thought he was Jon Hamm in a room full of George Costanzas.

Nick Savage was the worst out of all of them.

You dealt with it, however, and sometimes even thrived on being the only woman on the team. Mostly because you needed your job.

It paid well enough, but most of it went into the upkeep of your grandparents’ old house, and for the past few years, their extensive medical bills…

“Still, at least you got a Mission Impossible-style rescue out of it,” said Andréa. Her tone turned both leading and flirtatious. “Tell me you got that fireman’s number. Dear God Almighty, what a Grade-A Hottie.”

You chortled through your blush at remembering Dean, the firefighter who saved you. You could admit, he’d been one fine specimen of a man.

“Grade-A Hottie. What are we, in middle school?” you retorted. “Besides, he was just doing his job.”

“Ugh, you’re so pragmatic it hurts,” your friend lamented. “You really need to live a little, while you’re still hot and firm.”

You laughed fully at that one. “Yeah, I think taking the stairs from now on will help with the ‘firm��� bit.”

Just like the strength of the firefighter’s hold had been. You’d felt entirely secure after he’d pulled you up on the elevator roof. His arms had reassured you even more than the harness, if you thought about it. (And your face heated up further at said thought.)

“I do wish I could say thank you again, somehow,” you mused out loud, not really thinking about who exactly you were talking to.

“Oh, yeah?” Andréa said. You could practically hear her mischievous grin. It made you slightly nervous. “Well, it’s not unheard of for a grateful civilian to stop by a firehouse. You could bring him lunch or something!”

“Ah, I don’t know about that,” you said. Your instinct was to withdraw inward at the thought of putting yourself out there like that. Besides, you didn’t want to bother him while he was at work.

“What’re you talking about? Firefighters love food! Believe me, my cousin Meg is a paramedic,” Andréa said. Then she gasped. “Oh, girl. I have the perfect idea for you. Why don’t you bake something for the whole firehouse? That way it takes some of the pressure off, but you still get to see him.”

You became more contemplative then.

Bake something, huh?

Now, that you could do. Andréa knew all too well that the one thing that could get your gears turning was getting your apron on, as baking was your ultimate hobby. It made you feel creative, and damn-near stress free…

And her idea wasn’t too shabby, the more you thought about it. It was something kind that you knew you could do. And more than anything, you really did just want to say thank you, one more time.

You smiled.

“Okay. I think we have a plan.” However, your smile soon fell. “Wait, I have no idea what firehouse he works at.”

“Hmm, my cousin might know,” Andréa said. “Let me reach out to her…what’s his name again?”

“Dean,” you replied. Another small smile reached your lips, against your will.

“His name was Dean.”

AN: Ah, the first chapter! Launching a new story is always so exciting! 🥰 What did you think of the reader and Dean's first meeting?

Also, feel free to imagine Mark Pellegrino's "Nick" for this (I am). He didn't have a last name on the show, so I created one for this story, as he's going to be an important antagonist throughout.

And just so you guys know, my knowledge of the inner workings of fire departments and law enforcement will largely come from my own research and being a huge fan of procedurals, like Chicago Fire, Chicago Med, Law & Order, etc.

Yes, aspects are fictionalized on those shows, but a lot of it is rooted in real-life protocol and stories. All the love and respect for creator/executive producer Dick Wolf. 😂

...Oh, and the elevator scene was inspired by true events. (Yes, I've been stuck in an elevator before. 🫠 Two ridiculously hot firefighters pulled me out, but by then I was melting from the lack of AC, had no makeup, and was dressed like a female!Dean, plaid and all lmao.)

Anywho...

Next Time:

“Protect and serve,” Dean teased back. “That’s our motto, you know.”

“Isn’t that for police officers?” you quipped.

He chuckled a bit. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

“Well…” you considered that with a tilt of your head, more seriously than he expected you to. You met him with a more earnest gaze. “I think it does.”

Right then, Dean had a feeling, deep in his gut, that he needed to know you.

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[longsightmyth]

hi, sorry if this seems random but what's the Keltiad about and which order are we supposed to read it in? I read the goodreads synopsis but i'm still a little confused

Celts in spaaaaaaaaaace. Publication order is The Copper Crown, The Throne of Scone, and then the prequel novel The Silver Branch. I read the Silver Branch first and so often that it fell apart, which my stepbrother kindly forgave me for (it was originally his book) and then gave me the other two.

So the original duology is about Keltia and Earth coming back into contact after lo these many centuries and the political ripples that follow, including but definitely not limited to some other starfaring peoples throwing a goddamn fit and using it as an excuse to make up for old wrongs real and perceived by way of trying to conquer Keltia. Since they actually technically succeed for a hot second, it's upsetting. Obviously this sends the high queen Aeron on a quest to regain the lost treasures (and the fate) of King Arthur (in space). The Silver Branch is the prequel that goes into why there are so many personal conflicts and political conflicts, including but not limited to: mistaken identities! Star crossed lovers (literally)! Duels! COURTROOM DRAMA! The rights of small planets vs large planets! The education of the heir apparent of Keltia! Assassination attempts! Entire planet destruction! True love! Miracles!

Look I'm not going to pretend to be objective here, I love these books.

The arthur trilogy has basically everything you would expect from arthurian myth plus a fully realized Guinevere and Morgan le Fey (significantly better than mists of avalon imho) IN SPACE.

There are also two standalones (Blackmantle, which I love despite its flaws, you can look at the tag 'myth reads blackmantle' for a lot of squeeing, and The Deer's Cry, which may be more interesting to me now than it was when I was younger given how it deals partly with the idea that christianity drove these space faring Celts from earth) and a short story collection that I haven't read yet.

CHRONOLOGICALLY it goes:

The Deer's Cry

Blackmantle

Tales of Arthur

Tales of Aeron

[goblinconceivable]

braindump: betty/daniel

I’ve been living with them for a while, notes taken, a few stories significantly started but there’s a gelling issue, which I’m hoping is at least partially down to a lack of proper braindumping.  So, in no particular order and certainly not comprehensive:

Frankly I also got too hooked on the last 2 eps, which is likely where I’m blocked.  It’s an abrupt emotional twist for them (esp Daniel), and in trying to make sense of that I’m losing focus on the 4 previous years.

- I’m a little bit obsessed in the scene where Betty tries to convince Matt she’s fearless by pointing out her bang-less-ness.  And then runs into Daniel, who is at that moment half brain-washed, but yet when she asks about her fearless quotient his response is immediate and natural and entirely lacking in irony: “no bangs.”  It’s a tiny little moment that shows how well he not only knows her, but understands her.  Without judgment, without fanfare.  Were I to have a husband, this is the sort of response that would confirm I’d married the absolute perfect guy for me.

- They’re too close for mirroring to be an important indicator, but there are two scenes that stand out in this vein: the first is when Betty thinks he may have pushed Christina down the stares and steals the video.  She’s backing out the door, and he follows, matching her step for step.  I love the direction choices because from her perspective there’s a sense of menace, Daniel as potential villain is stalking her.  But from his guileless perspective he’s talking to her and if she’s moving, so is he.  The second is from the penultimate, talking about Trista, where Betty’s rolling back and forth and he moves with her, rather than simply turning his head.  It signals his full engagement in the conversation, seeking her attention, and is why the scene plays as flirting rather than their normal banter.

- That bulletpoint was getting a bit long, so second point on the flirting is that it plays against Betty shutting down the conversation “none of my business,” leading to the fight over involvement in each other’s personal lives, leading to the revelation that they know each other at that deep personal level so very, very well.  Which was a very clumsy leadup to Daniel’s revelation during Hilda’s wedding speech, that could have been handled so much more deftly but those last two eps were quite rushed, I don’t know when they found out about the shortened season but it feels like they’d planned for more space and had to jab in exposition.

- Becaaaaause: they narratively broke his ‘aha’ moment onto “know you better than you do” while the strength of the message is really in the “do anything to protect them.”  Which is, I believe, where they cut to his softened expression.  Not coincidentally, this is precisely what a lot of fan-readings of the characters focus on: Daniel will do anything to protect Betty.  Bobby might have said he’d throw himself under a bus for Hilda, but Daniel HAS done that for Betty- in fact literally doing so would probably have been easier than publicly shouldering the blame for the Tornado cover and giving away the profits.  Due to the fact that he had time to consider the consequences and did it anyway.

- Which is tidy segue into an admission that I’m flying mostly blind on the Molly arc because I basically skipped all her scenes, but it’s my understanding that Daniel doing this was a pivotal moment for them.  Ie, she was impressed that he did this thing.  I mean, I really appreciate that he spent the whole press conference scene looking for Betty, so the show in no way undercut their relationship.  But then they very clearly built the Molly relationship on the foundation of not only the man Daniel had become due to Betty, but choices he was making in large measure for Betty: it’s not that he saw Betty beaten down and resolved the situation: he was upset but lost, she yelled at him, and THEN he resolved the situation by taking the bullet.  Did I break grammar by ending up with two colon’d clauses in the same sentence?  It’s a braindump, ain’t gotta be pretty.  XP

- Quick sidebar that the same thing happens with Alexis.  She was expecting to come back to one brother, but then listens in on his pep talk with Betty and finds she’s returned to a different brother.  This may be where I got the “an assistant” phrasing, if so, my bad.  But basically, she was impressed with Daniel’s actions, not understanding that it was Betty specifically inspiring his actions.

- Follow that a step further and did Molly ever acknowledge how important Betty is to him?  Legit question.  I think her line here was about him doing it “for an assistant” (?) rather than even “his assistant,” establishing Betty as a non-entity for her.  (Quoting a summary but I think I’m in the ballpark.)  And I’m sure I’d have read about it somewhere if she brought Betty up during their discussion on who he’d date when she was dead.

- Just one last note on Molly, (okay it’s a multi-part though it veers off her as a character) but a possibly incorrect beef is that I hate the Daniel/Molly relationship because there’s no interesting or even real conflict?  It’s perfect?  I’m supposed to think this is magical “true love”?  Molly has apparently been engaged for years to a man she doesn’t really love (and um... that’s lazy not strong), and helps inspire a vengeance filled betrayal by her ex because she’s so awesome everyone loves her?  But she comes out squeaky clean because any emotional cheating on her part is balanced and thus “justified” by Connor falling for Wilhemina.  And then the only “conflict” is that she’s dying, and is perfect throughout it?  That’s...  weak.

-That poem thing WOULD have been an interesting point of conflict but it was resolved by Betty’s intervention, rather than within the relationship.  Which actually is an incredibly interesting beat.  The problem with that being it’s so entirely consistent with the role Betty plays in Daniel’s life that it’s treated as just another beat, as if it doesn’t MATTER that a fundamental moment of intimacy and growth of vulnerability in Daniel’s very important romantic relationship is a door opened by a third party.  There’s a strong argument to be made for something but I broke off to write the next point and now can’t remember what that strong argument is.  I might remember later.  It may have had something to do with Molly being a stepping stone in Daniel’s arc, but the cult-thing was so long and dominating that it didn’t work, it tied him too tightly for too long and coinciding with a loosening of his relationship with Betty there was flailing.

- Quick one: Daniel’s fast-forwarded and time-bounded relationship with Molly is the analog to Betty’s time-limited relationship with Henry.  Which is a discussion I would like Daniel and Betty to have.  Esp. noting that Betty and Henry had issues they worked through together (ice cream foreplay being one.)

- Player!  So going back to a happy place, when Betty’s on the phone trying to fix the apartment situation and the camera pans onto Daniel just leaning against the doorway: this may be a legitimate little moment of “squee!”  There’s so much denial in his laid back attitude at Player, but I still love watching how the informality of the environment reflects in the informality with Betty.  He gives her free reign, and there’s many answers to “why,” and I (almost) don’t want to go into them because I totally adore how this Daniel is basically a College!Daniel only he’s latched onto Betty, who, meanwhile, is just being Betty.  OMG how different his life would have been if he’d met Betty in college...

- Okay I actually don’t feel like going into whys, it’s just an arc to enjoy.  With a small mention of how he TOTALLY was playing with the MODE book and handed it to Betty knowing she’d understand and use it to get them back in.  Such a crazy subtle manipulation, to the point where I’m not sure it wasn’t almost entirely subconscious on Daniel’s part.

- The YETI recommendation letter.  What I love is that this is another time when Daniel fvcks up, but fixes it, and more importantly displays competence and ingenuity alongside authentic caring and effort.  Here’s the thing: YETI wanted Betty, even if it was just a quota thing (which it wasn’t entirely, at least one of the board was generally enthused.)  So all that was necessary was to have them re-label her as from Player.  Daniel knew this and did this.  And told Betty that.  BUUUUT that point was purposefully (by script and character) overshadowed by the gesture of the lengthy rec letter he put significant time into.  Whose real audience was... wait for it...  Betty.  He even did a second draft!  Which is more time and effort and a cleaner product.

-  Also flaking on her practice run.  I also enjoy how he (finally...) bounced back into the office clearly having forgotten her schedule, but having mentally shifted from Molly-space into Betty-space.  He’s enthused, he’s engaged, he’s sort of bantering and I’d like to see where that scene would have gone if she hadn’t immediately gotten the acceptance call.

- So there’s this moment somewhat early on, pretty sure when Betty’s taking the writing class, and wants Daniel to give her feedback.  And he’s all “why?,” coming from his “I don’t actually know what I’m doing” place.  She responds that he’s her friend and wants to know what he thinks.  And he does a little double-take at that word.  Because until that point Daniel totally sees Betty as HIS Friend, and they’ve referred to each other as friends, with a little “f,” and he believes that.  But it wasn’t until this moment that he even considered that HE might be HER Friend.  Presumably because he doesn’t believe he has anything to offer her, beyond the power he holds as EIC and her boss - ie, “here run this show” and other such responsibilities.

- Which is a recurring theme.  Pronounced on relationship stuff especially.  When she asks him for input on the Henry vs Gio situation, when she’s trying to date the playwright.  His response is always “I’m in no position to offer relationship advice/judgment on relationships.”  He sorta dodges the first and is permissive on the second.  I don’t know where to go with that so I’ll leave it (for now).

- When  he was supposed to be in Rio, Betty wasn’t even at MODE, she was working for the “enemy,” and he was sending her regular postcards?  First, they’d have been postmarked in New York and presumably with local stamps, so I’m not 100% on Betty not cottoning on.  But it’s super cute that he was thinking of her when he was incommunicado with literally everyone else.  Did he want her to figure it out (subconsciously)?  It’s an act of reaching out, but also of convincing: he’s created a fictional narrative of being in Rio, fed and embellished by the media and swallowed by coworkers, but it’s through Betty that he’s establishing the fiction in a definitive way.  He wants HER to believe it, because if SHE believes he’s there and having a good time, then he can believe it too, with a small piece of his imagination.

- Same convincing as in Player.  BTW, how did all those messages on her phone work?  He was 99% totally hiding the situation from her.  a) why wouldn’t he just call her from his phone, as he always did in the past?  b) he was creating another fictional space.  Where her “number” was literally on a post-it on his temporary assistant’s monitor.  It’s all play: “call Betty” happens many times, and every one is the act of doing it while knowing that he’s not really doing it.  c) Betty does not point out that he should have been confused he never heard back, or more to the point, that he never heard her voicemail message.  d) he was in a state of limbo waiting for her to come back, nothing is real until she does.  At which point there’s lovely dramatic tension since he both wants her to fix it and get them out of there, and wants to draw her into this new reality and thus make it feel viable.

- 100th Anniversary edition.  I love the idea that he’s hep on her writing his bio because he needs her name, at least, to be next to his.  His identity as EIC is predicated on her being his partner, and needs that shown, even if it’s functionally an “in joke” because it’s not like she can be featured.  In musing over his thoughts while flipping through the book right before deciding to quit, I usually come back to a realization of the transience of the role, but I want it to be a gutpunch of how he assumed, without being aware, that Betty would be next to him in picture, and that’s what they were heading for.

- I’ve actually got through most of my notes, so just a couple more.  Daniel is super impressionable.  He did what Becks told him to in the pilot.  He did what Natalie told him in the cult-situation.  Both against his better judgment - his look after Betty when he kicked her out for being “drama he didn’t need” - that’s the same look when he told her to clock out and was dragged off by the not-16-year-old.  I’m too tired to go check the pilot, but assuming similar look there.  He does what he’s told by anyone telling him to do something, but he WANTS to be rescued from the bad influences, who are so often so forceful.

- Final scene: okay so it turns out quick a lot of my thoughts are trying to understand Daniel.  His growth is blatant and deep.  So a second round will be more Betty-focused.  ‘Cuz I identify strongly with her and don’t have a lot of surface questions about her motivations, but I’m LOST on side of the romantic coin.  And plus she deserves a close look regarding how she grows during the series.

- I watched at least part of the reunion and very much like how AF answered the question of the final scene versus what EM says.  Because I think they each, as actors, see it from the perspective of their characters, which means it was played authentically and grants insight.  AF basically says that she saw it as Daniel coming to say thank you, and how it came down to Betty teaching him that he was good enough.  Which came across a little funny because her phrasing implied they’d never talk or see each other again or something and that’s an alarming finality.  But also implies that Betty really did see moving to London as a significant parting of ways, something that started as soon as she became an editor and their relationship changed.  Probably before.

- She then challenged EM as to why Daniel didn’t say goodbye (as if she didn’t know and hadn’t thought about it?  I’m guessing this was panel performance: asking the question “in character” and throwing the question to the other relevant actor.)  But anyway, EM’s answer was “Because things were just starting.”  Which is blatantly a shippy answer, and he even explains Daniel’s “revelation” as when he “really saw Betty for the first time through and through.”

- At some point in these things you’re like: oh but I thought of something else, and only stop when your brain falls asleep.

- I thought of something else.  And then I forgot it.  My brain is failing!  But not yet failed.

- After Betty gets her braces off there’s this scene near the end, at the shoot.  Daniel sees her and crosses quite purposefully to talk with her.  He wants to banter and share this exciting moment with her.  And the scene goes a little strange when Betty kinda goes “yeah, going now bye.”  I expected more eye contact, a big smile, more conversation.  That’s Betty.  That’s them.  But instead it’s a little awkward so Something Is Happening Here.  Is she self-conscious?  Did she see and hear something in Daniel’s look and comment right after she was detached from the bra and isn’t at this moment comfortable with him?  Is this all fallout from her dream in which she and Daniel slept together/he thought she was a bad person/rejected her only they chose not to explicate this/cut a useful scene/thought I’d get that right away but I’m obtuse?  I don’t think it’s the last one because while I can be horribly obtuse, I don’t think it was coded.  But that’s what the obtuse would say.

- At any rate they don’t pick up on it again, next scene (next ep) they’re back to normal.

- But Daniel does immediately chase after Amanda and let go of her.  Which is payoff for his convo with Betty earlier where she sort of disdainfully asks if he WANTS a more serious relationship with Amanda.  I did sort of wonder if he actually does, but Betty’s judgmentalness is what convinces him he doesn’t.  Usually I’d say Betty understands him so well she knows he doesn’t, but they’re not as close at this point, Betty is living her own life much more, so I dunno.

- But I don’t actually think Daniel was falling for Amanda, or that the show wanted us to think that was ultimately a viable path.  Because of that moment when he’s in a car, calls Amanda, says “I really need to see  you” and she turns him down.  It parallels his text to Betty when Molly died.  One text and Betty came over.  This was an actual distressed voice convo and Amanda doesn’t care enough about him to be there, which is really great development for Amanda even though we don’t see her!  She previously went after Matt when he was in jail, she’s interested in Tyler here, she’s not totally pining for Daniel!

- Daniel of course was using Amanda and their earned if mild emotional intimacy as a crutch, trying to fill the space Betty left.  Also note when Amanda turned him down for sex and he stayed to “hang out,” - this is not supposed to be an analysis of Amanda but I wanna note I like that moment because it felt like she was pleased to think she wasn’t just sex to him, while still being over him romantically. Because she does care about him.

- Or for pete’s...  I have this bad habit of writing notes which I later look at and am like... “huh?”  This is a fic idea, from Daniel’s POV: “Betty had moulded him, often by sheer force of her iron will, into being a man who almost deserved Molly.  And he'd turned right around and become a man who would never deserve Betty.”  And I DON’T REMEMBER WHAT THE SECOND HALF MEANS.  Specifically.

- Wedding dancing.  Happens twice.  Hilda’s wedding, we know what that is.  But at Daniel’s wedding.  I like that he wasn’t 100% Molly focused, ‘cuz, shipper.  And I know why the show had Matt cut in, because gotta keep things moving.  But isn’t it a thing that you don’t cut in on the groom/bride?  It’s their day.  Daniel just sort of nonverbally asks Betty if it’s okay (to leave her with Matt), but can’t help a) thinking he was a bit put out and b) want Molly to see his expression looking at Betty and have some sort of “aha” moment where she - do Molly and Betty have any scenes together?  I don’t remember seeing any and I think I did skim through all the eps, but I need to do that again.

- Ooh, one of the things I forgot en route!  I like that Betty has revolving love interests, because that’s textual argument for Betty never having feelings (romantic) for Daniel.  Which is super, super important in this iteration of the story.  There’s a couple moments - pilot and the first bridge scene - where she arguably has a momentary crush, which quickly settles into a developing platonic relationship.  

- Jump back to Daniel finally seeing Betty as a true equal = romantic feelings.  It’s a thing.  Look my brain is deteriorting and wording is hard!  So there’s two sided imbalance throughout.  Daniel always saw Betty with this veneer of youth, and a great deal of his use for her is helping her “grow into the woman she’ll be.”  And that’s the roadblock in him seeing her as a romantic possibility.  Which was initially quite awesome because he was sleeping with people younger than her, even the “she’s actually 20″ girl was younger than Betty.  And yet always saw her as in many ways more mature and competent than her.  And double-yet he still saw how much further she could, and would, grow.  His belief in her knows no bounds.

- Meanwhile Betty sees him as...  someone who’s also becoming.  Who has great potential.  Bullying him into it if necessary.  And because he’s guided by her, she can’t crush on him, he’s like her pet.  Were she to have a crush, much less fall for him, it would have been horrifying.  She needs to have a moment when she sees him as a true equal, someone who - look, everyone is always still growing so it’s not like he needs to be fully formed, and it’s a little murkier what the moment would look like when she finally sees Daniel “for the first time.”

- ‘cuz as noted, Betty has been there for pretty much every important moment of growth and crossroads in every facet of Daniel’s life.  Whereas Betty consistently had many things and relationships in her life Daniel was not involved in.  She’s always been way more self-reliant (not the word I wanted, is there one that starts with c?)  It’s why they did sort of need to peel away through a chunk of S4, because Daniel needed to learn to cope without Betty propping him up, because it’s like a Miranda-thing:

- “I don’t need Gary.  But I want him.”

- Daniel has to be able to be find without Betty before Betty can see him as a viable romantic partner.  She has to see something she never has before.  Daniel saw that the seedling he’d been protecting was not only strong enough to survive on its own had grown up and bloomed (process begun early in the season when he was being overprotective and she shut that down).  For Betty...  I guess Daniel...  ...  .....  it didn’t happen in the show.  As EM noted, for Daniel, the ending was the beginning.  Because his moment isn’t leaving MODE, that’s just the corresponding moment to Betty shaking him off.  His moment is further down the road when he puts into practice everything he’s learned and ...  something answered in fanfic because it’s spec and I’m tuckered.

[crackers4jenn]

Just finished reading your human Cas has the flu fic and wanted to squee a bit because it's absolutely DELIGHTFUL.

it's exactly what I wanted from the human Cas storyline (and what they show didn't deliver), not to mention absolutely hilarious, and such perfect voices I could literally hear the dialogue in my head because you have every character cadence speech so perfectly down, and I giggled in delight at all the 'scarring of Kevin' bits (*sigh * poor Kevin this should have been the biggest horror that befell him, not dying horribly :()

and the emotional core of Dean being afraid to get close to Cas because he's just gonna leave again and trying to explain Cas' attraction as just biology and not specifically about him, I've been thinking about it a lot and it's nice to see them deal with that at least in fanfic if never in canon *sigh *

and lol by the end I was like 'oh, I see what you did there' with the title *gg*

I'm equal parts very embarassed (ahhhh it's such an old fic, and it's rated MATURE, the horrors!) and very appreciative, so thank you. At the time, I think we all had high hopes for human!Cas, can you tell? 🙃

At least once every couple of days I'll get bummed that we didn't get (INSERT CANON THING I REALLY WANTED TO HAPPEN HERE) and feel annoyed at the show for pulling me back in and making me care again after a successful SEVEN YEARS of being detached. But at the same time, s15 actually invested so much into Dean/Cas's relationship? And let them fight but then make up? WITH ACTUAL WORDS? THAT ADDRESSED SO MUCH OF THEIR PAST ISSUES? AND IT ENDED WITH A ROMANTIC ILU???

I know we've compared spn to Community before, as far as: the pandering vs. ~pathological demands~ vs. being satisfied with the crumbs we were given, but I think about Troy/Britta and how god awful they turned out to be even though there was so! much! potential! And a part of me is always appreciative Community left Jeff/Annie so open-ended. I know a lot of people hated the finale for that reason, but all it did was validate that the 'ship was real and let the fans decide its fate from there. Which is exactly what spn did, so even if there are still things I wish we would've got to see (CAS SHOULD'VE SMOOCHED DEAN FULL ON THE MOUTH AT LEAST ONCE) boy am I grateful the show added a "ps; Castiel? in love with Deannnn!" while taking its swan dive. I don't trust the show to have handled an actual relationship well, so for as much as I feel cheated over the things we never got to see or have resolution for, at the very freaking least I'm happy it stayed open-ended. And that there will always be fanfic 🥂