#but I love how that whole part with the pen is a metaphor for her dad’s complete disregard of the damage he may cause to his daughter

[sugarcoated-lame]

‘Options exhausted and the gala fast approaching, he can barely bring himself to look you in the eye these days.’ ):

“Morning.” Jake says quietly, like he’s ashamed to have been caught being so affectionate. The look on his face is hard to ignore. He has already withdrawn from this exchange before he moves to get up from the bed.’ Katie, you’re breaking my heart 😭

‘The intrigue in her voice should be a dead giveaway. On a day where your head was a little clearer, you would’ve taken time to analyze exactly what it was about her tone that didn’t feel quite right.’ Oh Apollo… my heart plummeted into my stomach bc we already know Blake isn’t going to keep her mouth shut..

‘Options exhausted, every box checked and each one of them a dud, there’s nothing that Jake can do but revel in the time he has left where you’ll believe in him.’

Ugh this chapter was so good and so heartbreaking!! Jake pulling away from Apollo because of his guilt, Apollo reverting back to fighting and threatening him because he won’t tell her about what’s going on, and now the both of them having secrets from one another!!!! I’m so sad but also loving the drama, very anxious and excited to see what happens next!! 🥰❤️❤️❤️

Operation Apollo | 2.1 | Jake Seresin x Reader au

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synopsis: After a threat is made against her life, the President’s grown up daughter gets her security tripled. Her long term detail is about to retire and needs replacing, only — she isn’t the easiest to work with. Ex-Navy and current Secret Service, Jake Seresin is devoted to being the best at everything he does. He isn’t going to let a bratty little girl cost him this job.

warnings: age gap, power imbalance, enemies to lovers, danger and angst, mentions of sex, mentions of plotted kidnapping, dark themes to follow, arguing, lack of communication on both sides. Smut (pinv) briefly at the end. 4k words

…

Awake long enough to see the full range of the sky’s gradient, an almost grey Steele colour to a powder blue brightened by the morning sun, Jake rubs a hand tiredly over his aching eyes. They hurt when he closes them, so he tries not to.

“I’m a busy man, Seresin, I can’t keep having this conversation with you.”

Matthew’s voice is stern on the line, there’s a monotony to it, like he’s already bored of speaking about this. They have had this conversation before, four times already actually. But Jake hasn’t grown bored of it. In fact, he can’t think of anything else.

Sleep-deprived and out of sorts, Jake’s heart aches in his chest.

“There’s just — there has to be another way,” Jake says gently.

Fiddling with a pen, taking it’s intricate insides apart and piecing it back together, Matthew stifles a sigh. He rubs a hand over his eyes and shoots a look towards his assistant, then shakes his head. The pause tells Jake what he needs to know.

“She’s never going to trust any of us again.” Jake insists, his voice quieter now than it had been before. Matthew barely notices, frowning as the pen bursts and ink spills out onto his fingertips.

“She’ll trust who I tell her to trust,” Matthew answers back, discarding the pen with little thought to the damage that it causes. Black ink seeping out onto hundred year old wood. Caring more for the mess on his hand, he reaches for a tissue and swipes the ink from his fingers. “Now, if you don’t mind, kid — I’ve got an important meeting to get to.”

The line clicks dead before Jake’s got an opportunity to respond. You hum softly and press closer to him, your cheek smushed into his abdomen and your arms draped loosely around his hips. He presses his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he soaks in the image of you like this, sleeping so peacefully against him.

He follows the curve of your back as his fingers trail, featherlight, along the length of your spine. Ten days of knowing what he knows.

At first, he tried to take it in his stride. There’s no certainty in missions like these, there is almost always another way. Options exhausted and the gala fast approaching, he can barely bring himself to look you in the eye these days.

This is easier. Just this moment. Your bare chest lying against his front, sheets just covering your bottom half.

He knows that you’re on to him. He hasn’t exactly been subtle about his withdrawal. Yet, you’ve come sneaking into his bed for the last ten days straight without fail. Even if he hasn’t touched you since you left San Diego.

Almost certainly, that’s what last night’s display was about. Him standing by the balcony door, letting the fresh air soothe the strain in his chest, when you pulled open your balcony door. Wearing nothing but a skimpy pair of underwear, you had strolled right past him, looking him dead in the eye, and then slipped into his bed without a word.

Still nothing. Jake had stepped out onto the balcony to continue his conversation without fear of you hearing. When he had returned, you were already asleep. He can’t pretend that he wasn’t glad that you were.

His lips quirk softly as you hike your leg around his, shifting closer. He smooths his hand over the subtle v-shape your underwear makes, stretched out over your hips when you lie like this. It’s cute that you need his affection the way that you do. He likes giving it to you.

It just doesn’t feel right now. It won’t again until he knows that he has done everything in his power to keep you safe. As many options as he has exhausted, he can’t stop trying just yet. Two more days until he’s supposed to take you to the airport and let you attend that gala.

Jake smooths the backs of his fingers across your cheek softly. The action tickles your skin and makes you stir. Still deep in sleep, sprawled out across white sheets, one of your hands presses to his stomach like you’re checking that he’s still there. He exhales slowly, finding peace in watching you sleep.

He wishes he could join you, the two of you tangled peacefully in pleasant dreams. He hasn’t been sleeping much lately. Too busy trying to fix it. Hundreds of phone calls, emails, freedom of information requests and accessing confidential documents. And still, the man at the top says that his plan is the best.

Jake remembers starting this job and knowing that the danger you were in was so grave that it had to be kept from you. He remembers reading the letter that was on your pillow, his stomach churning at the lines and lines of detailed threats.

Reaching for fabric to unconsciously tug him closer, your fingers extend against the ridges on his stomach and your brows furrow slightly. Never one to deny you, even when you’re not awake to make the request, he knows you well enough to know what you want. Shifting down the bed slightly, he presses himself against your side and drapes an arm around you, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

As you settle into this new position, Jake holds you a little closer, resting his cheek against the top of your head. Your heart beats steadily against his, the soothing rhythm almost enough to drag him into the sleep that he has been fighting. Still fighting now, he keeps himself awake by massaging your back, gently kneading and stroking your skin under his warm palm.

“Mm, feels nice.” You hum softly into his chest.

He damn near flinches at the sudden sound of your voice, even with its half-awake cadence and muffled start. Eyes widening, he pulls back to find you smiling sleepily with your eyes still closed. You scrunch your features, preparing for the morning light, beginning with a few soft blinks to adjust before you really look at him.

“Morning.” You smile, stretching your arms above your head. With Jake’s sudden change in attitude this past week, this affection is a welcome surprise. Almost ten days of downright glacial treatment from the blonde haired agent. He’s been working hard so you’ve given him a pass.

You’re not too sure with what but the elections are picking up speed now and things always get a little tricky around this time. That, and you’re going to be back in classes from next month.

“Morning.” Jake says quietly, like he’s ashamed to have been caught being so affectionate. The look on his face is hard to ignore. He has already withdrawn from this exchange before he moves to get up from the bed. You reach out and catch his dog tags, knowing that he won’t pull back hard enough to risk you breaking them.

He turns his head, glancing down at your fingers curled around the metal, slowly lifting his gaze to look at your face again.

“Stay in bed.” It’s neither a request or an order. It’s the first thing you’ve asked of him in a while. Releasing the metal, you smooth your fingers along the inside of his arm. Trailing along each inch of warm skin, following the veins on his forearm down until you can entwine your fingers with his and give a gentle tug.

“I’ve got a phone call to make.” Jake answers, giving a soft shake of his head. He squeezes your hand and moves to drop it. Pushing yourself up and supporting your weight against your palms, your face doesn’t give much away about what you’re wanting to say to him. But he knows anyway.

“Jake,” It’s quiet, almost like a warning — the look in your eyes tells him that it’s more of a plea. “Just stay for a little bit longer.”

His eyes trail downwards, his shoulder casting a shadow across the morning glow that has managed to soak the rest of your body. Wearing nothing but a white cotton thong, giving the excuse of last night’s lingering heat even with the sound of the air conditioning in the room muffling your words. The manufactured chill covers your body even now, his absence making it all the worse. Your nipples perked and goosebumps covering your arms. Jake trails his fingers over them, feeling your eyes on him. Waiting for his decision.

“This… it’s an important call.” He offers you no other consolation, no excuse, as he pushes himself up from the bed and turns his back on you. He can’t bring himself to touch you with such a weight on his mind. Until he has fixed this, he doesn’t deserve to.

“Jake.” You repeat. He doesn’t look at you, grabbing some shorts from beside the bed and pulling them up his legs. He has been showering in the downstairs gym so that there’s no chance of him bumping into you while you’re still laying in his bed. Exhaling heavily, he grabs his phone and moves for the door.

“Jake, if you don’t look at me right now, I swear to god, I’m going to start screaming.” Right back where you started, fighting fire with fire. It works and you’re met with an endearingly serious jade-coloured gaze. A silent warning from the man at the foot of the bed. He stares back at you. The almost naked girl in his bed with his heart in the palm of her hand.

Exhausted and already at his whit’s end with the careless decisions that your family seem prone to making, he shakes his head.

“Do what you want, honey.” Jake replies, tone calm and calculated. Knowing that you care for him too much follow through with your threat. He slips his phone into the pocket of his gym shorts and cranes his neck to the left. He’s wound so tight these days that it feels like his head might roll right off of his shoulders if he dares to stretch further.

Your gaze burns into his back as he curls his fingers around the door handle and tugs it open.

“What is the matter with you, you fucking asshole?”

Jake goes to ignore you. It’s his every intention. It’s even in motion, the door swinging shut behind him as he starts down the hallway. It’s only when he hears it bump into the wall as you swing it back open that he can’t call your bluff any further.

“I’m talking to you!” You insist.

Jake spins, green eyes blown exceptionally wide at the sight of you in the doorway. Two steps forward and you’ll be in the frame of the hallway camera.

“Don’t you dare.” Jake warns, squinting as he takes a step back in your direction. Immediately, he knows this was the wrong thing to do. There’s a glint in your eye that tells him he just played right into your hands. Either he comes to you or you go to him. “Put some fucking clothes on or something, anyone could—“

“I don’t care if the entire secret service sees! I said: I’m talking to you. Don’t walk away from me!” Your voice carries and the open-planned house doesn’t do much to stifle the noise.

Jake walks forwards so swiftly that instinct carries you a couple of steps back. Far enough into the room for him to slam the door shut and corner you against his dresser.

“Keep your fucking voice down.” He warns you, deadly serious now.

“I’ll let this whole neighborhood know what a dick you’re being if you don’t start giving me answers, Seresin.” You poke a finger into his chest and square your shoulders. Even with him hulking over you, there’s not a chance that you’re going to budge on this.

“It’s not my job to give you answers.” Jake answers back. The words spill from the inside of his mouth, cold and sharp. You squint at him.

“I don’t think it’s in your job description to fuck me either, and yet here we are.”

He inhales slowly and exhales even slower. You study his face, trying to find the answers you need between the furrows and creases in his features.

“Something happened in San Diego, and you’re going to tell me what it was.” You insist, standing up straighter so that he has no choice but to take a step back and give you room.

“I don’t take orders from you.” Jake replies swiftly, green eyes on yours without faltering in the slightest.

“If you want me to go over your head on this, Jake, then—“

He scoffs and pulls back, pinching the bridge of his nose. The idea is almost laughable, he truly has to stop himself from laughing at you. Something seethes through him, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as he paces back. “Try it. Be my fucking guest. Call your dad.”

At least then it’ll be on him to explain this fucked up bet he has made, with you as the wager. In fact, Jake would enjoy that. The plan would fall through, you’d realise everything that Jake has been doing to keep you safe and he’d be able to start sleeping again.

Seeing him almost laugh at you changes the tone of the conversation entirely. You’ve been here before, and this feeling certainly isn’t unfamiliar. The only one who doesn’t know.

Such a bright girl. So clever. Such a bright future. Beautiful and smart. All of those compliments, all of those good grades — and there’s always still a man standing in front of you, trying not to laugh.

“Maybe I will call him,” You bite back, straightening up again like something will change and suddenly you’ll be the one towering over him. It sure feels that way with this anger surging through you. “I’m sure it would do wonders for your career if I were to speak to my dad today.”

“Did you just threaten me?” Jake’s brows knit together and he presses forwards. Your back bumps into his dresser before you even realize that you’ve stepped back. He gives you a quick glance up and down, then steps out of your space. “Put some fucking clothes on. Keep yourself busy today, I don’t want you bugging me for anything.”

This time when he goes for the door, you let him. You let it slam shut behind you and pretend that it doesn’t make you flinch.

Jake pretends that he doesn’t hear you screaming ‘asshole’ as he continues downstairs. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, several eyes are on him.

“Don’t you idiots have something you should be doing?” Jake bites, shaking his head as he continues past the living room and towards the gym. He spends the rest of the morning carefully maneuvering the house, making sure there’s not a chance that he’s going to run into you.

“I was surprised that you called! — it’s been forever.” Blake’s face is turned towards the sun as her long, slender legs sprawl along the lounger. Her martini glass rests against her stomach, droplets of condensation trailing along the stem and onto her fair, freckled skin.

Your posture attempts to mimic hers. Only, your fingers drum against the side of your hi-ball glass and the inside of your cheek has gone numb from all of the nervous chewing. It’s a while afternoon by this point, the sun is high and there’s a breeze soft enough to make the heat deceptively mild.

“Mm, well, I missed you.” You reply gently.

She doesn’t move, squaring her shoulders and adjusting her tanning position just slightly, “I missed you too. But you sounded kind of upset on the phone.”

Closing your eyes for a moment, your thankful that your sunglasses mask the realisation. All of those years of media training and your runway model friend can see right through it. You’re letting your guard slip. Your brows scrunch softly at the pain in your head.

“Just kind of a crappy week, nothing big. How’ve you been anyway?”

“I just got back from Italy actually,” “You know, the girls and I are going to Belize at the end of the month. You should come. I was going to invite you, but you’re kind of hard to reach sometimes.”

“I don’t think that would fly.” You shake your head quickly, shooting a quick glance to the rookie sitting up on the deck. He might as well have a pair of binoculars for how intently he’s watching the two of you.

“I’m sure you could strike up a deal with one of the men in black, right? — Get them to pull some strings for you?” She pulls her sunglasses down and winks. It’s just a lighthearted joke, she doesn’t mean anything by it. Until she sees the look on your face.

You have had classes on this since you were a kid. Someone stepping on a nerve and you not flinching in the slightest. Yet, she barely even nudges the cover of your secret and your demeanor changes.

Turning your head, your gaze focuses on the pool as you shift. Pretending that it’s just to find a comfier spot rather than fidgeting with nerves.

“Oh my god,” Blake turns, setting her glass down on the table between the two of you, then propping herself up on her palm. Every fibre of her attention is on you — which is a rare occurrence from Blake. “Are you fucking one of them?”

The intrigue in her voice should be a dead giveaway. On a day where your head was a little clearer, you would’ve taken time to analyze exactly what it was about her tone that didn’t feel quite right.

Today, you’re alone and you’re wounded, and she’s looking at you waiting for her answer.

“Jake.” You nod quietly.

“The one who came to my party?”

You nod sheepishly at her, lifting your sunglasses off of your face so that you can study her reaction a little more closely. She grins wolfishly and leans forwards. Up close, it appears as intrigue.

“Girl, tell me everything.” She sounds giddy as she smiles across at you, reaching for her glass again. And the floodgates open. You start from the beginning and it’s hard to slow down from there. The first gala, the party, the break-in, and then Texas.

“This is the best posting I’ve ever had,” The voice is hushed just the slightest amount, no real effort is being made to. A couple of chuckles follow it. “God, look at that. God bless America.” More chuckles follow.

Jake rounds the corner, fresh off of a phone call with the head of security at the White House and not in the mood to be fucked with. Three of the rookies standing around the kitchen, staring out of the window, focused on the pool. They take no notice of Jake as he strolls past them to check the view.

You’re lying on your stomach, in a black bikini that’s more strings and ties than it is real fabric. Standing from where he is, he’s got just about the perfect view. The swell of your ass covered by the skimpy black material and the curve of your breast peeking out from the side of the top, too deep in conversation to notice that you’re being watched.

“God, I’d fuck her into the next century, man.”

Jake turns his head slowly and his gaze locks on the kid who just made the mistake of speaking. He stares calmly. He’s a little too still, just watching in a way that’s unnerving enough to have the young man fidgeting on his feet.

“What? — Like you wouldn’t?” The boy tries, swallowing and glancing around to the others for help. Jake’s lips quirk softly. He glances back towards the pool and the girl that he loves, and back at the shithead that was drooling over her.

“I catch you doing that again, and I’ll drown you in that pool.” Jake warns calmly. He takes his time to look between the young agents and nods, just to confirm that he meant what he said. “Now, move.”

They scuttle away like bugs. Jake sighs softly, leaning against the kitchen island and resting his head in his hands. His temples throb when he closes his eyes, that can’t mean anything good.

“Have you heard those little perverts?”

Not a moment’s peace, Jake lifts his head as Manny strolls into the kitchen. He hums a tired agreement. Manny rolls his eyes at their behavior and leans against the other side of the island.

“So?”

“So, what?” Jake mumbles, rubbing softly at his eyes, hoping that it’ll make the pain stop long enough for him to keep his eyes going.

“So what’s up with you and Apollo?”

Jake looks up, struggling through the pain behind his eyes, brows furrowed. He waits for Manny to elaborate before he dares to attempt at an explanation.

“You two screaming at each other this morning?” Manny prompts. Jake closes his eyes again and stifles a sigh. It’s hard to care about keeping a low profile when someone knows how to step on his nerves like you do.

“Told her to put some damn clothes on. She can’t keep walking around here half naked.”

“Yeah, not with those little vultures hanging around. Her dad’s gonna kill us if she winds up sleeping with one of them, you know that, right?” Manny breathed out, shaking his head softly as he checks out of the window to make sure you’re still where you’re meant to be.

Jake hums and pinches the bridge of his nose. He isn’t trying to avoid you that afternoon. Not like he was this morning. It just so happens that you don’t run into him again until the evening.

He closes the door to his room and almost frowns when he sees that you aren’t in his bed. Before he has time, he registers the sound of the water running. Locking his bedroom door behind him, he gently twists the bathroom door handle and lets himself inside.

You’re silent, aware of his presence but not looking at him. You lather soap over your legs as he rids himself wordlessly of his clothes. Your breath catches in your throat as his chest presses into your back.

Jake drapes one arm around your waist and pulls you back against him. He turns his face into the crook of your neck and leaves soft kisses against your damp skin.

“I love you.” He reminds you, working a string of kisses along the ridge of your shoulder. You lean back into his touch, silent. He wouldn’t be saying that if he knew.

Telling Blake had never been part of the plan. You hadn’t realised quite how much you had been holding in until you had started to let it out. It had felt so good to finally talk about it, to finally say it out loud. Such a relief, each word truly a weight off of your chest.

Now, a new weight presses heavy on you. Knowing that it’s only a matter of time. That you could’ve screwed it all up. That he’ll never trust you again. You whimper softly as he nips at the column of your throat. He snakes both arms around your torso and squeezes you tight in his arms.

Options exhausted, every box checked and each one of them a dud, there’s nothing that Jake can do but revel in the time he has left where you’ll believe in him.

You lean forwards and arch your back away from his chest as he sucks softly at your throat, squeezing his arms around your middle. Catching hold of his thigh for leverage, a small whimper slips your lips as you grind back.

Jake’s hand nudges between your legs, mouth working expertly against your neck. After ten days without his touch, you’re soaking his fingers in a matter of minutes, shivering against his hold even under the steamy water.

“You want it?” Jake breathes out as you grind yourself back against him. He kisses every part of skin that he can reach, keeping you pressed into his chest. You nod feverishly, humming a quick please that’s lost somewhere between the running stream of water and the soft groan that vibrates from his lips and onto your neck.

You gasp softly as he withdraws his fingers and presses the tip of his cock into you, a contented moan falling from your lips. Jake exhales slowly against your skin as he sinks in deeper until he’s buried in you completely.

“Missed you.” You breathe out quietly, trying to rock your hips. Jake presses a palm into the wall in front of you and grabs your hip with the other, nodding as he settles his forehead against the back of your shoulder.

“Missed you too, darlin’.” He murmurs.

…

@alanadetigy @thedroneranger @momc95 @basicchelsea @perpetuelledaydreaming @cherrycola27 @eviesaurusrex @xoxabs88xox @desert-fern @fuckyeahhangman @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @khaylin27 @cowboybarbie @someinsanefangirl @marchingicenotes7 @marantha @lgg5989 @herladyshipxx @chaoticweirdogeek @mak-32 @obiwankenobis-lap @diamond-3 @wolvesofthewinter @shawnsblue @itsmytimetoodream

[letgomaggie]

All my bridgerton thoughts, compressed:

1. The true love story is definitely Penelope and Eloise. No matter how hard they try, they cannot pivot away from the fact that friendship is the heart of this season. Be it between Penelope and Eloise, or Eloise and Cressida, or Penelope and Colin: it is that which drives this particular season.

2. To add to the above point: Colin may be Penelope's love interest, but it is Eloise who understands her. Eloise asks if Penelope seems despondent or sad - not just a simple is she okay but instead here are things she could be, which one is it? She knows her friend, no matter what. And Colin, for all that he is, does not find it all too startling that Penelope is suddenly looking for marriage. Eloise does. If Colin's eyes follow Pen across the ballroom, so do Eloise's.

3. Eloise has someone to talk to about the effect her friendship breakup is taking on her. Penelope has no one. I find Nicola to be an increasingly fantastic actor because she holds this tension so very well throughout the whole of Part 1. When Eloise comes to visit her, you see why she asked Colin what Penelope was feeling. Because Penelope is feeling that, has been feeling that ever since. Its so raw and on her face for the world to see but only one person ever looked and understood and read her like a book.

4. The two fingers while fixing her dress? Gag me god gag me

5. I have not seen the point of the Mondrich plot until this season which is where they are really using it to root the show to reality. There are conversations to be had that the society simply does not want to and Mondriches are the embodiment of it. Constantly knocking at society's door and making themselves be heard and fighting for a seat at the table but unwilling to compromise on what feels good and right. It's subtle and ita frustrating and I like that it's getting to people. You're going to get annoyed enough that the looking glass metaphor will play out in real life for you.

6. I see how unhinged Colin is being about Penelope and while I love that for her, I also get how fucked up her situation is rn. She does need stability. She has found her purpose. And I want her to be selfish in protecting that bit of herself. Instead of what she has been doing. She tried with Debling and yes, it was vexing to see how she ran after him but. I get it too? It's not always roses and camomiles. Cressida is the foil to this same narrative. The Bridgertons are foolishly romantic but that is just them. The show is through their lens but we can take a step back and see it for it is as well. I found Debling to be perfect and his reasons for ending everything were as well. If a little crassly done. Colin proposing to Penelope and falling headfirst in love just as she starts looking out for herself? My heart still needs to be sold on this idea, no matter how hot and sexy everything is.

7. The hair grab oh. Colin Bridgerton you slut. You whore. Colin Bridgerton would like to be pegged I promise. These two will actually be the couple who try out shit in the bedroom out of intrigue and discover a hidden kink. Colin finding the answer to his pent up ruminations when Penelope drags her hand tenderly through his hair vs Penelope close to tears because it is a dream come true and how many times has she imagined this and now its happening and its all that and more? Fucking yes

8. The diaries intrigue me. I shit you not I started this season with the firm belief that Colin had in fact NOT travelled lasts season because he was being all quiet about it. End of Ep 1 and I am now convinced he only really wants to talk if people listen and the only one who ever listened was Pen and if she's not there to hear him what is the point of speaking? He functions on 0 braincells because like. He has all the facts he's just not looking at them.

9. Someone talked of how they want to know more about Colin because he's been coming off as 2D and I agree. This is being told more from Penelope's view than Colin's and that is skewing the narrative a bit. I need more than 'pirate fashion-current rake-newly minted fuckboy' from him.

10. I like the yellow bedsheet.

11. The opening with the pining looks from Pen towards Eloise really set the mood and I'm so glad for it. For that matter I feel like Colin's apology for the comment last season was rushed and half hearted and I understand the hot and heavy vibes but they are friends first and that is the heart of the season and so much, so fucking much is left unresolved and I need them to have a couple of heated conversations PLEASE. express emotions fr!!! Beyond breathing hard!!

[waltricia]

More Hawkins/Innovations Ball Observations 🔭🎈🧭

+ A Color Theory

I know I’ve already made several posts about this ball, but I have more observations, so I’m going to compile everything here. For the stuff I’ve already made detailed posts about, I’ll just give brief descriptions.

1. Yellow. There’s so much of it here, and in the episode as a whole. Ahead of the part 1 release, I had been thinking a lot about how the color red would be used to signify Colin’s growing love- and it is, particularly in 3x04 (I’ll come back to that)- but in this episode, yellow is used more so, which is even better because it signifies how much Pen, specifically, is haunting Colin (in the romantic way obviously lol). At Stowell House, earlier in the episode, the walls are a very obvious singular yellow tone, and Colin wears a yellow waistcoat. Here at the Innovations Ball, there are a ton of different shades of yellow on the walls, props/furnishings, costumes, and in the lighting.

Also note the blue elements.

AND green!

(I love Marcus repping all the Polin colors. That bodes well.)

So, yeah, lots of Polin-coding, but also, like I said, I have a particular theory about color, which I will return to at the end of this post.

2. Colin’s entrance into the ballroom mirrors the infamously unfortunate Beauty and the Beast scene from 2x04. Both scenes have our leads stopped on staircases in front of grandfather clocks (another surprisingly significant motif of the season). I love the comparison of her being lonely because she’s left alone by him in that moment- and by everyone else as usual- to now him being lonely, despite being surrounded by admirers, because he’s being left alone by the one person who truly knows him and would make that difference for him.

3. I think everyone already knows about this parallel by now, but I have to note it because it’s so in line with my other observations- when Colin says his “it is possible to do anything” line, that scene mirrors the “assuredly, fervently, loudly” scene from 1x08. Pen and Colin are both inspiring each other, encouraging each other to be honest about their feelings.

And I feel like that’s not the only moment where the scenes are mirrored. In 1x08, when Colin sees Pen, the crowd parts so he has (and we have) the full view of her, and he makes his way over to her from the center of the floor to the edge. In 3x03, after Colin almost reveals his feelings (similar to how Pen almost revealed her feelings in 1x08), Pen leaves him at the edge of the floor to go to the center with Debling. And the crowd, which had been parted- giving us a view of Colin behind Pen- now rushes in to block that view.

4. Double meanings. They’re everywhere.

a) Again, the “it is possible to do anything” line. He’s delivering it to the admiring debutantes, but we know he’s really speaking to Pen. He’s really talking to her about his feelings for her. Of course, Pen thinks he’s talking to her about Debling. The hits just keep on coming for Colin in this episode.

b) In another interesting turn of events, considering she’s Whistledown and so much of what she’s said and done in the past seasons has been layered with hidden meanings, Pen goes and speaks the plain singular truth about herself and her intentions to Debling (obviously barring the fact that she’s Whistledown). Of course this is very in line with one of her main journeys for the season, which is to accept and reveal herself.

c) Colin attempts to hide the true meaning of his words to Violet when he asks her about love and friendship. Of course, he’s just so god damn transparent, bless his heart. And Violet, very sweetly, goes along with it.

And btw, after she leaves Colin to let him go approach Pen, she watches them the whole time. 💜

d) Unserious but relevant:

Not only are they literally and metaphorically sick, this pregnancy subplot also fits with the whole theme of nature.

e) The Whistledown narration. As per usual, it applies to multiple characters and their storylines. I’m obsessed with how it’s so intentionally layered onto the shots. The sequence is so incredible and so involved. I’m linking the post I made about it here in case anyone hasn’t seen it yet and is curious about what I mean.

5. I could be totally off about this one, but it looks to me like Miss Malhotra’s hair clip is designed like a compass. If it is, that would make sense because it would be on theme for the ball. But what I particularly love about the idea is that it’s also relevant to Polin. Hardcore Polin fans like to say that Pen is Colin’s compass.

6. At the end of this episode, as Colin has officially fallen in love with Pen, we see the beginning of the next episode’s theme color, red.

Which brings me to my final observation, my color theory.

I’ve said this before and I will continue to say it every time I have an insane prediction or theory: I am probably very wrong. But I’ll say it anyway…

It seems to me that each episode has a different signature color. I think 3x02 is green because Pen and Colin are starting to grow and bloom.

3x03 is yellow because, again, Pen is haunting Colin.

3x04 is red because they’re lovesick for each other.

And 3x01 is everything. It’s an explosion of color.

I think that, in many ways, 3x01 is meant to be a preview of the upcoming episodes, highlighting all of the colors. I mean, wouldn’t the presence of a “Four Seasons” ball indicate that everything is there? Everything that you would see in a year? (Or a full season of Bridgerton?) I think it probably tells us which colors will define the part 2 episodes as well, but I won’t venture to guess.

In speaking about Colin’s garden party waistcoat, the associate costume designer, Dougie Hawkes, said that it has hints about future episodes.

I have to wonder if this color thing has something to do with that. I’m also pretty sure that all of the other waistcoats Colin wears in 3x01 are ones he wears again more obviously in the other part 1 episodes. This seems to indicate, for one thing, that the garden party waistcoat is indeed special, but also that there is so much hiding in plain sight in episode 1 that will come back throughout the season. In other words, there’s probably a lot of stuff in part 2 that’s already been hinted at in 3x01…

But I dunno, I’m probably wrong about this.

Anyway, that’s all for now! ✌️

[heartgold]

as much as it's frustrating how only two of the umi episodes were penned by Sayo in the irl layer, I think it's fascinating to compare them with each other because so much becomes clear when you look at the writing choices in each one side by side

the specific ways in which Legend and Turn differ from each other makes me certain that one was among the first message bottles she wrote whereas the other was one of the last, but it's not clear which is which -- it depends on how you interpret her internal journey and process of creating all these tales and fragments. Sayo's writing as a whole is very marked by her personal observations of the sins and struggles of the family and using them as mirrors to actually write about herself, using characters as stand-ins that give voice to her own inner thoughts, but both stories are very different in tone and approach

Legend feels almost methodical with the ways the murders and illusions are carried out, and the way her resentment manifests is more controlled, understated. you need to wring it around a bit more to 'see', but in my understanding: it's interesting how the 3 cousins are all made to suffer incredible grief losing their parents and love interests in quick succession (Battler being the only adult cousin who only lost his parents and not a love interest feels important to get him to remember!), but they live until the end then get invited to the Golden Land and choose to resurrect their lost love. By contrast, Natsuhi is put through the wringer through and through while being given the opportunity to be the star of the episode with her struggles as a woman taking the center of the stage, only to lose a duel (!) to Beatrice and be denied entry in the very last moment. there's a lot of conflicting emotions all over the place in both cases which is of course very characteristic of Sayo but I'm fascinated by how the cousins' entire role in this episode is to lose everything they had, experience earth-shattering grief and be led towards a romanticized afterlife where they can heal that grief, making the choice to resurrect the love that was lost, whereas Natsuhi's role is to mirror and portray Sayo's actual interiority and struggles (many that were caused by Natsuhi herself!) that went unspoken her whole life and then be challenged to a duel and get shot. to shoot Natsuhi is to shoot herself. shooting her actual personhood and interiority and struggles to death. as a metaphor for the entire ceremony of Beatrice's revival being a suicide in order to pass on into the afterlife where compartmentalized parts of herself can simultaneously exist as whole and find happiness with their respective love interests. the final step of rejecting reality, seeking love by truly becoming fictional while the human heart of the actress behind the characters dies buried between the lines of the text unless you 'see' it. god she makes me insane. anyway

Turn by comparison is very brutal. Beatrice steps onto the gameboard and is at her cruelest here, and the deliberate narrative choices are dripping with anger, helplessness and sorrow. everything about the focus given to Rosa in her role as the main accomplice who only had eyes for gold vs the framing of the tragedy as the gift of a halloween party for Maria, the wolves and sheep allegory, the way Shannon and Kanon get repeatedly kicked around for trying to resist their fate and wanting to believe in love despite everything. Kanon's "corpse" being desecrated by being forcefully resurrected twice, not being allowed death. the barely contained sexual conflict and trauma in the themes and imagery all over the episode. the way Sayo personally kills Jessica and George and her personas are killed along with them, an utter rejection of the possibility of being loved in reality as something that can only happen in death and fiction, so they all get to die together and be connected by their souls, all portrayed as the innocent victims of a vicious witch. the unspoken horror of one of the few true closed rooms in the game, with Sayo physically killing herself while facing herself in the mirror after doing all that. no one could dispute that a coffin is a closed room. and with closed rooms in this game often symbolizing being trapped in your own logic even though the door was unlocked all along, it absolutely stands for Sayo giving up all hope. Beatrice won, the gold won, the family's curse won, Sayo's worst feelings regarding herself won. Kinzo won too, even as a dead puppet haunting the narrative, he 'lives' to the end and gets his miracle of meeting Beatrice granted again. just that says a lot. Turn is horror after horror and you can only fully grasp that with the context for her writing choices

Legend feels relatively composed and deliberate in its choices of allegory. it also carries a lot of pain and conflicted feelings (particularly with the way she hatewrote Battler in it) but the text in Turn is basically bleeding all of her self hatred and suicidality and conflict over the idea of being loved. Legend is for the most part a straightforward mystery embellished in illusions with her heart still very baked into the text, and it has a big focus on solvability (Eva as the main accomplice basically points Battler toward the solution... which he rejects) and gambling/risk-taking, with multiple moments where Sayo left things out of her hands and up to chance, making it so that she could've been stopped even by accident. and then Turn is basically an eruption of all the horrible feelings churning in her heart. it says a lot that in Legend, she left the people she loved the most alive until the end, as if hoping until the very end for the miracle that at least one of them would see through her and stop her from murdering them, while Turn kills off the cousins (barring Battler due to being the detective) and then herself before the ceremony even ends, destroying all outcomes beyond utter annihilation. Turn is absolutely about her surrendering and leaning right into the illusion she casts on herself of being an irredeemable monster, so Beatrice absolutely plays into that role here. fitting that it ends with Battler surrendering, too

the sheer tonal contrast between these two message bottles tells a story of the journey of how Sayo's mental state changed as she kept writing and running over her murder-suicide plans over and over again -- it can either show her hope and composure deteriorating as she resigned herself to accepting her dead-end of fate (Legend -> Turn) OR the raw emotion she felt in the beginning of the writing frenzy dissipating as she kept going, any result being a satisfactory outcome but still focusing on planning out a difficult but fair mystery, staking her hopes onto the miracle of having it solved by the person who shared her personal philosophy on mysteries (Turn -> Legend). I don't like relying on Confessions too much as "confirmation" of Sayo-related things because it doesn't sit well with me, but if you go by the way it portrayed the process, then it strongly suggests the latter explanation

wish we could have seen more of the countless tales she personally wrote because you can see so much of her personhood hidden within the text, her thought processes, personal views and authoral voice all providing characterization, but the two we got already tell entire untold stories. it's funny that the two first episodes are usually thought of as the least interesting ones on a first read when they're the ones with the most firsthand insight into the culprit's heart and how she felt about everything. the sorrows and pain but the strength of will and hope too

[calciumdeficientt]

could you do hcs for Peanut Romano?? he's my favorite ofc

Peaaaaaaaanutttttt ought I’m now realising there’s none of these characters i couldn’t talk about for literal hours

PEANUT ROMANO HEADCANONS

Peanut very clearly has little man syndrome, he openly muses about being accused of having a napoleon complex. I think this stems from his childhood, sad asfuck but i think he became man of the house pretty early in his life, his dad was a big sack of shit who was nasty his mum and left early. He takes care of his mother and general household stuff and balances school with it too. He’s a pretty valiant little dude to be honest

Ironically i think he’s allergic to peanuts, not like deathly, but they make him all puffy and sniffly and generally gross, so he keeps an epi-pen tucked into his jacket in case of emergencies

He takes good care of his hair, its a source of his confidence, what he lacks in height in the body department he makes up for for in hair height. He touches up with pomade in the bathrooms pretty regularly and does his best to keep it looking nice and clean and tidy

He really looks up to Johnny as a paternal figure but its so difficult because he is so clearly pining for johnny to be his lover. It’s absolutely not that’s her hates Lola, he loves Lola too but johnny was definitely his first and strongest love, so it absolutely wrecks him to see johnny so torn up about a girl who doesnt know what she wants when peanut is right there, waiting, with his mind fully made up

He likes vintage cars, and has a little pot of money in his dorm to hopefully buy a car with one day. There’s a dude in old bullworth vale with a pretty nice hot rod that he’s had his eye on since he was a sophomore and as luck would have it, its not yet been sold. He frequently rides his bike through the neighbourhood just to check its still there, and to check if its been marked down and he can get his hands on it

Had a huge, gross crush on Marlon Brando as a kid. It started when his grandma had a streetcar named desire playing on her TV when he was sleeping over in grade school (while his parents sorted out their belongings and prepared to split) and it played a considerable role in his decision making to join the greaser clique. Not that he can be blamed, Marlon Brando is so fucking dreamy it should be illegal

Very nervous tagger, his hands get all sweaty when he’s nervous and nine times out of ten he messes up the slogan for fear of getting caught. Needless to say he’s relieved when he sees the police or school faculty washing them away when he’s done

Peanut is super embarrassed about his voice, along with his small sature he’s absolutely terrified that people wont find him intimidating wand will pick on him. If you go on a school computer after he’s had his turn you’ll find article after article of advice on how to deepen your voice, silly kitty.

His voice anxiety is part of the reason he smokes, he hopes if he keeps it up it might make him sound a little more rough around the edges, and a little less… girlish.

Peanut loves to dance, he actually considered taking classes for a while and maybe trying out some competitions. He bailed out when the whole Johnny and Lola fiasco kicked off for the first time, he just didn’t have the heart to leave johnny so defenseless and bordering on a nervous breakdown. He had to don the metaphorical johnny jacket and take charge while their clique leader was in the fetal position in the corner. The least he could do was hang around and wipe the tears off johnny’s pretty pretty face.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Trent/Ted Lasso fic recs part 2

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

part 1 here

some small comfort by trentcrimminallybeautiful (biDEMONium) - Rated T

Trent finds Ted having a panic attack in the coaches' office. 

Curious & Judgmental by r_n_g_are_dead - Rated T

When he was ten and three-quarters-years-old, Ted Lasso’s parents left him at the Allen-Bradley Clock Tower for 3 hours and 42 minutes. Well, more like the park across the street. While there, he met a young British boy. Ted gave him a football trading card. The British boy gave him a pen.

Time was infinite. Time with people in your life was not. But sometimes you got more time with them than you ever expected.

what do dogs dream about? by trans_chickens - Rated T

She nestles into her pillows and is just about to close her eyes when she suddenly seems to remember something else. She sits up straight again, blinking at Trent. “He was silly I think, when he said a thing about you.”  Trent, who was this close to feeling triumph over a toddler brought to sleep with no incidents or hiccups, suddenly feels like he’s losing a battle. “What… did he say about me, love?” he asks, mouth dry. Maybe he doesn’t want the answer. He wasn’t even gone that long for the ice cream, how could Ted and Olive have fit in a whole conversation about dog dreams and also talk about Trent behind his back? It’s not fair. It doesn’t make sense. He’d think Olive was making it up if it wasn’t for her sincere expression. That and the fact that Trent suspects his daughter hasn’t figured out the concept of lying yet. He dreads the day she’ll get there, and hopes he still has tons of time until then. He almost wants to believe that time is now when he hears the next words out of Olive’s mouth. “He said you’re pretty.”

recipe for happiness (in khabarovsk or anyplace) by prewars - Not Rated

Series: 7 Works

Ted does what he does best: talk. Trent listens.

I Told You I Would Stay by hippiecommune - Rated G

Coach Ted Lasso from America, the man whose incurable optimism and seemingly infinite supply of well-wishes had somehow wrangled a good opinion out of quite literally everyone he’d ever met, was giving up. He was going home. Trent was here to ask questions about relegation and Ted was here to announce formally that he was resigning. Trent knew this because Ted had left a message three hours ago giving him a heads-up.

the funny thing about coincidences by mmummydust - Rated T

MrBlueSky: What are you working on tonight? Or thinking about on your walk? starman72: Coincidences, coincidentally. MrBlueSky: :) What about them? starman72: Nothing in particular. Just thinking. I’ve had a lot of them occur lately. Just a bit funny how things work out sometimes. --- Ted Lasso has been talking to someone on Bantr. Trent Crimm has also been talking to someone on Bantr. Turns out, they're both using it as a fairly poor distraction for their feelings. This doesn't turn out to be as big of an issue as it seems. Or - Ted and Trent are both incredibly, helplessly oblivious.

the courage to put on the cape by clementines_and_colourful_things - Not Rated

Trent Crimm, The Daily Planet. — A Ted Lasso Superman AU inspired by a Tumblr post by matttheratking. Thank you for violently (and metaphorically) shaking me by the shoulders.

things we are too young to know by andaskwhynot - Rated M

The other man stops talking, looks straight at him. And Trent was wrong, the look he had fixed on him earlier was not a smile, not really. Because now he is smiling at him, and it is nothing short of a beam, bright and open, and there are dimples, and even though the other man has a face that is more narrow than not, all Trent can think of as he looks at him is ‘corn fed’. Trent does a year abroad in the states, gets assigned a football player as a roommate and has his life turned upside down. It's all horribly cliched, until it isn't.

Words are very unnecessary (but they brought me to you) by blueberrywizard - Rated T

“At 4:44 in the morning the smell of coffee, like every other day, woke Trent up. At 4:45 kitchen radio started to play quietly in the background and Trent could, just like yesterday, recognise the sounds of Enjoy The Silence, which he thought was a little bit of a strange coincidence, but well. Stranger things had happened. At 4:50 he was at the kitchen table, thinking about his life choices. About journalism and football and life that kept having turns that he couldn’t predict.” Or: Trent Crimm, The Independent finds himself stuck in the time loop. There’s a lot of British 80's music and questionable life choices included.

Trent Crimm Cannot Be Objective About This by thegables - Rated E

“I’m bigger, you know, so I won’t get as cold, and you’re… not as big, so the cold would bother you more, it stands to reason, so you should just let me go on the outside by the window.” Trent said, “You have the gallantry of a big-jawed American film hero.” His tone when saying it was such that Ted said, “Sorry.”

in my head (I found you there) by lilysaid - Rated E

Trent loses the last three years to amnesia and can't figure out where overly-familiar American football coach Ted Lasso fits into his life.

friday (never hesitate) by oriscribes - Rated G

Trent froze with a small wince. Oops. This was too much. This wasn’t what he meant to do. But it was Ted and he was fucking leaving. But right now Ted was looking at Trent with a gentle smile and a gentler look in his eyes and well shit. Trent needed to leave before he did something stupid like kiss the the gaffer like he got the boy at the end of this fucking fairytale of a season. OR: an alternative take of when Ted is reading over Trent's book.

that funny feeling by bearfeathers - Rated T

Ted needs to talk to Trent about the security footage he found. Except that's hard to do standing in West Ham's facilities with people bustling all around them. So he does the only reasonable thing he can think of: he invites him to dinner.

Total Writing by sbkmm - Rated T

'He’s bouncing off the walls. He definitely made at least two weird noises and waved his arms around like a Muppet.' What happens to Trent after That Scene in s3e07. Can he recover his cool exterior? (spoiler: he can not.)

Take My Whole Life Too by ItsClydeBitches - Rated G

Ted Lasso was the kind of man who taught NSYNC choreography for a going away party and bent his players into impossible positions just to say “Hi, Boss!” in the morning. He’d organized fearsome bets over darts, baked heavenly biscuits on the regular, and had requested at least two boxes from Nate Shelley’s niece, one of which still sat on a shelf in his office, despite the betrayal. Ted was also a passionate believer in what he referred to as “rom-communism,” all the trappings included. In retrospect, Trent should have known he’d go all out for Valentine’s Day.

red-handed love by clementines_and_colourful_things - Not Rated

The ever-bubbling reservoirs of hyperactive energy stored deep in Ted Lasso’s sun-touched soul never ran dry. — Or, Ted Lasso is not the most spatially aware, which leads to a head injury, a hospital visit, and a very stressed Trent.

When Life Gives You Lemons by Springandastorm - Rated T

Trent snorts, which is a sound that Ted has trouble believing he's able to make. "You didn't want to touch the knob?" He repeats. "Nah, it's got all kindsa nasty germs on it, and I know that you bake 'em out anyway, but this one time in college I got food poisoning from a bad donut and spent about two days straight on the—wait." Trent waits patiently for Ted to finish realizing, arms folded. Ted feels his face break open wide. "Trent Crimm, are you making a dick joke?" "...I'm attempting to." Ted thinks that if there were a little meter for how much he likes Trent, that might've just broken it.

lonely, lonely boys (this one's for you) by clementines_and_colourful_things - Not Rated

Nothing about Kansas feels right. And that’s only partly due to the massive fucking tornado.

Or, Trent ventures to Kansas to attempt to drag Ted back to Richmond, but nasty weather throws a wrench in his plans.

Biscuits for Blushes by JessJesstheBest - Rated G

“Clara’s class is having a holiday party and it just so happens that she has listed your biscuits as her ‘Favorotti’ of all time. She absolutely refuses to bring her classmates anything else to the party.” Or Trent's daughter has requested Ted bake cookies for her whole class and obviously he's on board.

Can’t Cry in Public and Can’t Drink Alone by WordsInTheNight - Rated G

When the wifi goes out at Ted's, Ted and Beard turn to watching the Shocker game at Mae's. Trent happens upon them and is invited into the wonderland that is watching football--with football coaches. Ted jumps on chairs. Beard is as protective as a mama bear, but buys Trent a pint. Just some smoopy afternoon getting to know each other and sharing each other's space. Pre-relationship, but the air is thick with promise. Set slightly after season 2, so two-ish years since the Shockers won the Division II NCAA championship. Trent Crimm is working on a book about Richmond. They haven’t hooked up, but intention is in the air.

exercising restraint by trentcrimminallybeautiful (biDEMONium) - Rated E

Following a fun and informative encounter with his favorite ex-journalist, Ted has a rather uncomfortable meeting with the Diamond Dogs. Featuring: Trent Crimm and the be-catted bag, Leslie Higgins knowing a lot about BDSM, Roy Kent being the world's most unwilling participant in this conversation, and Beard being Beard.

Top of the List by infiniteeight - Rated G

Rebecca wants Ted to be happy. Ted is good at making other people happy, but sometimes he needs to be nudged into taking something for himself.

The Humble Himbo by ItsClydeBitches - Rated G

Join narrator Trent Crimm as he follows one of the world's most magnificent creatures, the Himbo, capturing never-before-seen moments within AFC Richmond.

linger by trentcrimminallybeautiful (biDEMONium) - Rated G

Rebecca comes to see why Ted hasn't gotten off the team bus yet.

[sodaliteskull]

A much-belated Writing Questions tag game from @thesorcerersapprentice, who you absolutely need to be checking out! Check out her own responses to these questions over here!

Sending no-pressure tags to @saintedseraph, @meerawrites, and @lorenfinch. This is also an open tag to everyone, so if this sounds like your jam, get in on it!

What is your absolute all-time favourite idea you’ve ever had?

Gender swapping my main character’s love interest in my Silent Island stories for the Island of Crows reboot. I was fully in the throes of comphet when I was working on the Silent Island, and so I felt like my character had to have an opposite sex love interest - after all, the others I was writing with were all writing opposite sex love interests for their own characters, so I guess I had to, too. And while I like the idea of a romance, as a wlw, I am not interested in the idea of romance with a guy, so despite having some interesting concepts I wanted to play with in regards to this romance between these two characters, I couldn’t bring myself to give a shit about them when it came time to put pen to page. But switching the love interest from being a man to a woman? Honey, I could not stop the words from flowing!

Is there a question you’ve been asked that really stands out to you and that you still think about sometimes?

HAH. “What kind of drugs/alcohol were you on when you came up with that idea?!” That question stands out because I HATE it! Ever since I was little, I’ve heard so many people say that about any kind of story that was a little bit off the wall. Frankenstein, Alice In Wonderland, Lord of the Rings, Dune, “cLeArLy NoNe Of ThOsE cOuLd Be WrItTeN sObEr!!!” Shut the fuck up! It gave me this weird mindset for the longest time that I wouldn’t be able to write an “interesting” story unless I did so under the influence. Because of this, I had so many half-baked ideas and half finished things that I thought I wouldn’t be able to complete until I was able to get inebriated? Like I somehow wouldn’t be able to unlock the “true potential” of them or something?! So I try drinking (tastes nasty, makes me feel wretched) and drugs (weed: tastes WORSE and makes me a total space case, shrooms: mildly better tasting but gets me way too hyper to focus on anything), and attempt to write while under the influence, and surprise! Everything I came up with was trash! Bad! Nonsensical, but in a stupid way, not a fun creative way! It turns out that the real way to improve your writing is to sit down and actually write, and not wait for what is essentially a magic potion to make you a better writer!

What is your favourite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?

I really dig the brainstorming phase, mostly because I can do that pretty much anywhere! LOL THE AMOUNT OF PROFESSIONAL, WORKING HOURS I HAVE SPENT JUST FULLY MALADAPTIVELY DAYDREAMING IS MAYBE A LITTLE CONCERNING, WHOOPS! But the stage where you get to metaphorically throw everything at the wall in order to see what sticks, I really love that part! The whole, more modern trend where you have to become an influencer if you want to get published? Not a fan of that!

What is your greatest motivation to write/create?

Shittily executed stories, hands down. When a work has a kernel of something cool under layers and layers of metaphorical feces, that inspires me way more than something that, to me at least, has been expertly crafted. Breaking down the essence of something that works for me in a bad story and moulding it into something of my own? Love doing that!

What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever read or been given as a writer?

Honestly, it’s the one about how if you’re stuck, then the problem is three sentences back or whatever. I used to try and brute force my way through roadblocks in my writing, but I’ve never been satisfied by the results of those methods. Rereading to find trouble spots when I hit those kinds of stoppages has done wonders for me, personally!

What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?

Gonna go off on a tangent for a sec, so stay with me! When I was little, like toddler little, I didn’t quite understand how writing worked. I knew that books held stories, and I fucking loved stories! Like most kids, I made up all kinds of weird little scenarios with my toys, and I thought it would be rad as hell to keep a record of them so I could go back and read them. I somehow came to the conclusion that if I just thought about what I wanted to write while I wrote, then my thoughts would just, I don’t know, psychically imprint themselves on the page?! So I made a bunch of little books by cutting up loose leaf paper into smaller sheets and stapling them together with a construction paper cover, and I would “write” my stories by grabbing whatever book or magazine I could find and copying the letters on the pages into my “books” while I thought about what I wanted the story to be like. I would then go back and “read” my books, but it was really just me daydreaming about whatever the story was supposed to be about, which I knew more from what I’d crayoned the cover to look like, rather than any of the actual contents on the pages. It wasn’t until I started kindergarten that I learned that letters are sounds, and that the sounds put together make up words, and the words put together is how stories are made. So the thing I wish I knew when I first started “writing” would be how words actually worked!

What is your favourite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!

I’m going to cheat because it’s technically not complete, but the Silent Island stories that I wrote with my pals. We wrote them, off and on, between 2003 and 2015, so that is the majority of my life! It’s an inextricable part of me at this point. It’s not something that’s going to be traditionally published, but having it up online is probably going to be in the cards for this beast. LOL ALAS NOT ANY TIME SOON! Still gotta sort through it all!

Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you personally feel about their ideals?

For me, personally, the character with the most controversial mindset would be Ransaran, who is the antagonist for the Starcrossed Cycle. A “god” that only sees people as a natural resource to be exploited, I modelled a lot of its behaviour and mindset after people I find deplorable in real life - people like Bezos, Trump, Musk, and Epstein, to name a few - people who take, and use, and destroy for their own pleasure, with absolutely no thought or care for anything beyond their own selfish desires. People like that are the antithesis to everything I value as a person, so when I think “villainy”, those are the types of people that come to mind.

If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?

I think younger me would be blown away by the sheer volume of writing that I’ve produced over the years. Alas, most of it incomplete, or half baked planning, but I have written a metric fuckton between then and now! But hey, here’s hoping that the me from now would be blown away by the amount of actually completed works the me ten years in the future will have under her belt!

[dolphin1812]

It’s so sad to have exactly how much Cosette suffered reiterated here. Knowing that her clothes didn’t even become threadbare underscores how little time passed before she had to experience this kind of stress again; her childhood remains tumultuous, even now that she has Valjean to care for her. And it hurts to hear that she lost Catherine in all of this. The convent is against possessions in general, so she would have been separated from her as part of a broad policy, but there’s a big difference between nuns voluntarily giving up their material possessions and a child who’s only ever had one doll being made to do the same. I guess knowing that the convent would have taken Catherine away makes it slightly less sad that she lost her in their flight (since she would have lost her anyways), but it’s still devastating. The fact that she hints at her despair over this loss to Valjean highlights the depth of her trust in him, though. She’s too used to silence to say anything to most people, but she feels so safe around him that she can begin to express this, even if only indirectly.

Still, the convent is a good place for her right now. She smiles! And she even laughs! It offers her security and love (from Valjean), and that’s what she needs most to recover from those years of abuse.

For Valjean, the convent is much more mixed. He’s happy, too, but Hugo very blatantly compares the convent to a prison (and the same thoughts are running through Valjean’s head here). In some respects, the convent is definitely better. This sums it up well:

“On the one hand, miasms; on the other, an ineffable perfume. On the one hand, a moral pest, guarded from sight, penned up under the range of cannon, and literally devouring its plague-stricken victims; on the other, the chaste flame of all souls on the same hearth. There, darkness; here, the shadow; but a shadow filled with gleams of light, and of gleams full of radiance.”

The convent has a “hearth,” like a home, while the prison is diseased, metaphorically and literally. However, it’s still a place of darkness, even if that darkness is a shadow, and the bits of sky that Valjean sees are limited.

The way he thinks about these two structures also underscores his punishment-centric mindset. Since the galleys (theoretically - we know this isn’t true because his punishment followed him) delivered punishment in the form of imprisonment and labor in return for the expiation of “sins” (crimes), he applies the same logic to the convent, only to find that the nuns suffer to redeem everyone, not themselves. On the one hand, their focus on all people allows him to think of humanity as a whole, which can be good in broadening his perspective. Hugo speculates that he may have become prideful without this, and it’s true that Valjean is bad at thinking of other people; Fauchelevent himself pointed this out. That being said, he doesn’t think of others as a form of connection because of the convent. He only thinks of them in the abstract, encouraging him to continue in his pattern of helping others and forgetting them. He does have another social tie with Fauchelevent now, but the convent doesn’t seem to be addressing the actual issues with his mindset: an obsession with punishment and difficulties in forming real relationships.

[thatoneblogwithallthewriting]

I almost forgot how complete I feel when I’m writing. The world goes quiet, and everything just sort of stays still. Like I know it’ll be waiting for me once I put my pen down, or once I stop typing. It all is just as I left it.

This story is about a lost soul, who found herself. She found herself in the last place she thought to look. Within. Every question she asked, every heartbreak she experienced, every trauma she faced-she found herself. And she was the only one who could have done so. It will be written in parts. Enjoy the first piece!

‘I used to feel like a dirty rag, like those nasty ones you see in a restaurant that’s like changed colors because it’s been used so much’ she picked up her well loved baby blue lighter and lit a half smoked cigarette. ‘People would come around and see that I fixed them, or cleaned up their messes. I was so used to it, that when I had someone tell me I give more than I get, I denied it.’ She stared at the cigarette and gasped as if she had an epiphany. ‘It’s like I’m this cigarette, you know? Someone always takes a puff then throws me out, or lights it up when they need more.’ She laughed but then the smile fell as fast as it appeared. ‘I chalked it up to being a ‘nice person’ or someone who just loves helping others. Like a real heart on my sleeve type of gal.’

The middle aged woman -with brown hair and one single tattoo, right about her left wrist-set her notebook down and asked the broken girl a question that caught her off guard. ‘When did you start smoking?’ The girl paused and turned her head like a dog trying to understand its master. ‘Umm excuse me? How the fuck is tha related to thi-‘ ‘just answer the question, I promise it’ll be worth it’.’ The therapist smiled shyly. Very self assure what she had asked was a good idea.

‘Uhh, I mean I think my first cigarette was when I was 17? This girl told me it helps with that anxious feeling I always have. I guess I just never stopped. Why do you ask?’ She said, finishing off her cigarette, she put the butt in the ash tray and coughed 3 times.

The therapist crossed her legs and let out a small sigh. ‘Well, I ask because it seems like it’s something you do because you feel obligated to. Do you enjoy smoking those? Or is it more of a habit?’ The girl paused and thought for what seemed like no time at all. ‘No I love them. I love knowing every time I put one to my lips, it takes time off my life. I love smelling like an old vegas stripper who’s husband left me for the waitress at our favorite restaurant.’ The sarcasm in her tone was hard to miss. ‘Look, nobody likes smoking cigarettes. It’s not an enjoyable thing. It’s gross, I know. But it’s the one thing that I can always count on.’ She leaned forward in her chair and rested her elbows on her knees. ‘It’s like it’s the only constant in my life, ya know? Like I can always depend on a cigarette, it never changes. It’s always the same and you can’t get let down when you know what to expect.’ Her tone turned serious, and her face went blank. ‘—sorry, that’s depressing…hah.’ The girl said, dryly.

‘I want you to think about what you just said, and think about how you compared yourself to something that people use when they’re stressed or lost.’ The woman rubbed her hands together, the way you do when you’re nervous. Her skin was almost raw from how often she did this. The young girl was very still as she pondered what was just said to her. ‘I mean, yeah I did but it was more of a metaphor. I wasn’t serious.’ She said, embarrassed. ‘And besides, I can quit whenever I want. I just don’t want to.’ She said firmly. ‘Quit smoking? Or quit letting people use you?’ Asked the therapist.

‘Don’t do that whole-ask a question you know the answer to-thing. So I have things I need to work on, that’s why I’m here, right?’ Asked the girl, rhetorically.

‘I don’t think you see yourself the way others do.’ Said the therapist. ‘Why do you think people need you so badly?’ The girl wasn’t sure if she should answer that, so she didn’t. The therapist reached for a pen and her notebook and began writing. ‘I’m gonna write down a question and hand you this notebook, and I want you to write your answer down, okay?’ She began writing and before the girl could question it, the notebook was in her hands. The girl looked down and couldn’t believe what she read. ‘This is what you wanna ask me? This?’ The girl laughed, puzzled.

‘Don’t think about it. Just write.’ The therapist waited patiently, smiling just enough to show her enjoying the whole thing. The girl began writing, and halfway through what she wrote she shook her head and laughed. ‘I’m not sure what you’re getting at, but here—‘she said, handing the notebook back.

‘Now, I’m not going to look at your answer. I’m going to leave it and in one month we’re going to revisit this, and I’m gonna ask you to tell me if your answer has changed. Does that make sense?’ The woman closed the notebook and looked at her watch. ‘It looks like that’s all the time we have for this session. Shall I schedule you for same time next week?’

The girl hadn’t said anything or moved since she handed the notebook back. She didn’t know why but she was all of a sudden flooded with emotions. She spoke in between her sniffles, barely audible ‘I didn’t think one question could trigger someone so much. You’re very good at your job..’ she pulled her hair out from her face and quickly threw it in a bun. ‘But yes same time works’. She quickly grabbed her bag and lighter from the coffee table in front of her. Before she reached the door, her therapist said something that made her stop in her tracks.

‘I’m looking forward to our next session, Alice.’ The therapist stayed sitting in her chair, not looking up from her notes as she said this. The girl squeezed the doorknob so tight she was sure it was gonna pop off. ‘Yeah, me too.’ Her voice trailed off as she shut the door behind her.

As the girls’ energy still lingered, the therapist picked up the notebook and opened it to her bookmarked page. She read the question over again in her head before reading her answer. ‘What’s one thing you love about yourself?’ Read the question. She looked for the girls answer but couldn’t find one. Instead she looked at the very bottom of the page, and in small letters read ‘my fucking therapist.’

End session.

[marylily-my-beloved]

!!SPOILERS!! Girl in Pieces

Pg 31-46 

TW: SELF HARM MENTION, SELF HARM SCARS, A LOT OF TALK ABOUT SELF HARM AND SUICIDE, RAPE? SEX TRAFFICKING? IDK

‘It’s all the same thing: self-harm.’ Is it though? It’s all so different and does things so differently but it’s the same end goal. 

‘You can never not be a creepy freak, because your whole body is now a scarred and charred battlefield and nobody likes that on a girl, nobody will love that, and so all of us, every one, is screwed, inside and out. Wash, rinse, fucking repeat.’                               Because you can never not be a weirdo if someone sees it, you can never be the same with them, they just act so different. Why do they act to different? I don’t really know, because everyone who has experienced the same doesn’t change their perspective on you, at least they understand. 

Following the rules is a very hard thing to do, surprising she can do it

Evan and Dump. They brought her backpack, they said they were sorry. ‘Were they sorry that they couldn’t not take all three of us to live with Fucking Frank? I was sick… Were they sorry I wouldn’t do what Fucking Frank asked? (What he wanted all the girls in Seed House to do, if they wanted to stay.) Were they sorry they didn’t let me die in the attic of Seed House?’ You know the more I hear about Fucking Frank the more I think he’s a fucking sex trafficker… Evan and Dump don’t seem too bad? They seem to have helped her a lot so I think they’re ok 

Money, there’s money, they have money, but does Louisa? Does Charlotte? They need money for everything here obviously.

‘Today I get my bandages off’ She’s gets her bandages off I hope it all goes well for her, I hope it doesn’t trigger her (or me lol) 

She draws Blue!!! She’s drawing!!! Then she Xed her out. Ok.

My pen writes ‘OUT. GET IT OUT. CUT IT ALL OUT.’ That’s what she thinks when she shs and honestly it’s sad because it makes so much sense 

Blue took her fucking paper. Just why? Jfc. ‘“You know, Doctor, it’s very unfair.” “What’s unfair?” Casper regards Blue… “She never has to say anything. We all have to talk, spill our fucking guts out, and she doesn’t have to say shit. Maybe we’re like a little comedy show for her”’ Oh fucking hell Blue, of course that’s what goes through her mind, of fucking course I mean why do so many people think like that? It’s not always fucking like that. But it makes sense she assumes the worst of people. 

I mean I get why Blue would tell everybody, but why tell her to tell everybody her life story? Like man. 

‘If you were a girl, and you were at Seed House, and you wanted to stay at Seed House, there was a room downstairs with only mattresses. Frank put girls in the room. Men came to the house and paid Frank, then went into the room.’ I FUCKING KNEW IT, OF COURSE FUCKING FRANK. I always thought that it was Fucking Frank because she really fucking hated him but no. …

Ellis is missing, her father is dead, her mother is somewhere? Not dead that’s for sure. 

She’s going to attack Blue, but she can’t because if she does one more thing she can’t stay… well good for Blue 

‘Charlotte, Evan said, his eyes shiny, drunk, smears of my blood on his cheek, that night in the attic. What a beautiful name. He kissed my head, over and over. Please don’t leave us, Charlotte’ But in the end she kind of did, will she ever see them again? Will they ever see her? I think they just know she’s alive. 

Golden teeth really, damn these people are fucking rich. This nurse Vinnie must be rlly fucking rich. 

He’s clipping the stitches and he took off the bandages for her. Holy shit. How will she feel? 

‘Underneath these new scars, I can see the old ones. My scars are like a dam or something.’ This is such a good interesting metaphor because I’ve never thought of it like that, but if you think it really is like that. 

‘The best part is after.’ It really is, when you just sit down, and think about what you did, clean it up, bandage it and it’s just there forever, you know it’ll be there forever lol

‘More scars = more shame = more pain’ may i add something. More pain = less after. Because the more you do it the more it becomes this was the before doing it and doing it, there’s no after cause you just do it again so frequently. 

PINK UNDERWEAR 🎀🎀 

‘“Nurse. Ava. Bought. Me. This. Underwear.”’ SHE SPOKE OMGG SHE SPOKE!!!! AHHHH SHE SPOKE YESSS!!! 

She didn’t say thank u :/ 

Wrapped up in a bedsheet??? 

‘When the blood comes, everything is warmer, and calmer.’ It really is, until it dries up and it’s all sticky (eww) 

Ellis!!! ELLIS!!! 

Her dad died ages ago, and her mother is a ghost to her :/ OMGGG

Little side note: this barely triggered me lol 

[mvximized]

max doesn't open up like this very often, having been brushed off for having feelings her whole life. she was happy to be afforded this safe space. it was rare for her and she promised herself she'd never take it for granted. "definitely. it feels so cruel to be able to turn on your own self like that. strange how the brain works. i wonder what survival mechanism that shit is for," she laughed. she nodded at the other's metaphor, clicking her pen and shuffling through the pages of her journal to write it down. she wanted to remember that one. hopefully she could flip to it whenever she needed it most. "i guess the hard part is letting yourself believe you're a masterpiece. i consider myself a confident person and even i struggle with that sometimes," she admitted, nodding to herself.

max allows herself a satisfied grin as aurea compliments her reply. she figures there's no judge for the best answers to random and abstract questions, but if there was one it would be aurea. "love," she nodded. "that's a really good answer. i feel like a cartwheel and love go very well together. that twirly, light feeling that kind of feels like magic. yeah i'm totally on board with that. and besides, i think love can be whatever you want it to be. i mean, it's not like there's a science to it or anything." she smiled at the other's words. "so i think, following that definition, you would be a star." she knew it was going to be cheesy, but she decided on saying it anyway. life was too short not to compliment your friends. not to show them love.

   IT'S STRANGE, THE FRIENDSHIP THEY HAVE. aurea isn't someone who gets close to people and she's definitely not someone who comforts, but there's something about the other that ignites her desire to protect. perhaps it's the kindred spirit she feels in max?   ❝  i understand that completely. i think we're always the hardest on ourselves.  ❞   and in audi's experience, it's even harder when you can no longer decipher whose voice it is that's telling you the things you hear in your head because they all sound like yourself.   ❝  but something i try to remind myself is that a masterpiece is always a masterpiece. whether it's being appreciated or it's sitting alone in the dark, no scenario changes that.  ❞   she smiles and mirrors max's nods, unbeknownst to them both, before mae comes to join her on the couch. she's happy to hear that they're working on things and offers a vocal nudge of encouragement, letting her friend know softly that they're not alone,   ❝  me too.  ❞

   a hand begins to smooth her kitten's fur once the pet has settled onto her chest, watching the fan overhead spin as she considers the response she's given. it's one she adores and audi makes a mental note to write that down later, like cartwheels.   ❝  wait, that has got to be my favourite answer.  ❞   not that she's received many of them, but that's beside the point.   ❝  as for me, many people argue it's not an actual feeling, but i'm still convinced it's love; so much so that they literally sing and burst with it all the time.  ❞   while she can agree with max that watching your friends explode might be difficult, it must be comforting to know that their energy is never truly gone.   ❝  i mean, what it must feel like to know that you make people feel safe enough to share the deepest, most honest, parts of themselves with you simply because you're you and that you, who gaze upon each other reverently, are both made of the same magic...  ❞   her voice trails off with a sigh.   ❝  yeah, love's my final answer, and now i'm of the belief that it's the kind that feels like cartwheels.  ❞

[j4gm]

TOGETHER AGAIN SPOILERS

A thread of lore, Easter eggs, episode connections, and background details from Adventure Time: Distant Lands: Together Again! Let me know if I missed anything! This is adapted from my original Twitter thread.

Keep reading ⬇️⬇️⬇️

1. I was expecting them to perhaps do a classic style title sequence for this episode, but I wasn't expecting them to straight up use the original title sequence. The only difference is this final screen saying "Distant Lands".

2. The background of the title cards is also the hill from the title sequence.

3. The ice cream having "50 flavours" and having an image of an enlightened soul is an obvious reference to the 50th Dead World as we see it later in the episode.

4. Continuing with the metaphor, the dirt in the ice cream could be a parallel to the fact that Jake's Nirvana actually wasn't perfect, because his inaction was allowing for injustice to perpetuate.

5. This whole scene feels immediately slightly off. Finn has his Scarlet sword and is out on a classic Ice King adventure, but he speaks in his grown voice and all the slang feels much more forced than it did in the real season one. Turns out this was deliberate.

6. The snow golem speaks with a baby voice like it did in the pilot episode, even though in canon it has a deeper voice. This further hints that something is not quite right.

7. The first major break in continuity is these snow golems resembling Uncle Gumbald and Peace Master, who Finn didn't meet until later in his life.

8. LSP sitting on Finn's head like this is reminiscent of Pen Ward's piece for the 2018 Ble crew zine.

9. Finn being given the choice of helping somebody but ending up helping everybody reminds me of "Memories of Boom Boom Mountain". It's the kind of resolution that wouldn't happen so much in the late seasons of the show, which helps make this scene feel even further out of place.

10. Jake is half frozen by Ice King in pretty much the exact same way as he was in "Prisoners of Love", and even has a very similar line.

11. The Snail is seen here. The crew have said that the Snail has been deliberately left out of previous Distant Lands specials, so its placement here is another very deliberate hint that this whole sequence is "trying too hard" to be like the early seasons.

12. The book "Mind Games" appears a couple of times, as seen in several previous episodes of Adventure Time. The first is as Finn is approaching the library in his dream. It also appears as one of the items in Finn's backpack later.

13. Jake is hurt when Finn fist bumps him with his metal arm, revealing that this scene is not real. This is also a callback to the title sequences of "Islands" and "Elements".

14. A whole bunch of familiar skeletons are seen in the bird's nest: Dirt Beer Guy, Abracadaniel, Me-Mow, Lemongrab, Mr. Pig, and the Snail again. This doesn't necessarily mean that all these characters are dead, since this scene is just a hallucination.

15. Old Man Finn! He's still got the chest tattoo of Jake, and this time we know that Jake is dead, so the theory that Jake died before "Obsidian" seems pretty likely. He looks similar to his old man design from "Puhoy", with the same facial hair.

16. There are several cameos of familiar characters who apparently died at the same time as Finn. The first is this duck, who previously appeared in "Ocarina".

17. The second is Donny, from the episode... uh, "Donny".

18. This goblin guy is an unnamed background character from “The Silent King”.

19. This old lady first appeared in "The Enchiridion", way back in season one. Old ladies are a species in the Land of Ooo, so I guess she wasn't actually very old back then, given she just about outlived Finn.

20. This is the cobbler who first appears in "His Hero". Amazing that he lived so long given all the trouble he got into in that episode.

21. Land of the Dead! This place was first seen in season two's "Death in Bloom", and now we are finally learning its actual purpose. It's a sort of gateway and hub to all of the other dead worlds.

22. There are some more minor cameos at the gates: a house person from "Donny", a soft person from "Gut Grinder", and a wood person from "When Wedding Bells Thaw". And, of course, the gate guardian himself from “Death in Bloom”.

23. Finn completely ignores the gate guardian in the same way he did in Death in Bloom. This also has the convenient effect of not having to reveal how Finn died, leaving it up to the audience's imagination.

24. Mr. Fox! We already knew he would die at some point because BMO had his skull in the finale.

25. Finn has his design from the first Distant Lands poster in this scene. Turns out it's young Finn in old Finn's clothes. But they gave him a shirt in the poster so you wouldn't be able to see the tattoo.

26. The clapping that Finn does while he's looking for Jake is a callback to "James Baxter the Horse", when Jake tells Finn to listen for that same rhythm if they are killed and need to find each other in the afterlife.

27. Mr. Fox talks about a "past life quotient", suggesting that there might be some kind of limit to how many times somebody can reincarnate. Finn's reincarnations are also seen in this scene; a callback to "The Vault", and confirmation that reincarnations share the same soul.

28. Boobafina, the goose who Mr. Fox was in love with in his debut episode “Storytelling”, apparently reincarnated into a tugboat. We've already seen that objects can have souls in the episode "Ghost Fly".

29. Finn is initially assigned to the 37th Dead World, which is the same one that Jake went to when he died in "Sons of Mars". We can only guess at what the other numbers on the ticket mean ;)

30. Tiffany! Despite several lucky escapes throughout his life, Tiffany has finally died. I like the use of this imagery to express Finn's conflicted feelings about him.

31. The 50th Dead World has long been established as the "highest" dead world, and the one synonymous with Heaven within Adventure Time's universe. It was first mentioned in "Ghost Princess" back in season three.

32. It's unclear what happens to souls which are destroyed within the dead worlds. It is a similar question to asking what happened to the ghosts that were killed in "Ghost Fly".

33. Death doesn't speak at all in Together Again because his voice actor, Miguel Ferrer, passed away in 2017 long before production began.

34. Finn phases through New Death when he tries to attack him, just like what happened way back in "Death in Bloom".

35. The 30th Dead World contains Tree Trunks as well as many of her love interests; Mr. Pig, her alien husband from "High Strangeness", Danny and Randy who first appeared in "Apple Wedding", and several more who we don't recognise, including at least one who presents as a woman.

36. Literally yelled when these two showed up. Joshua calls Finn a crybaby, which is a callback to "Dad's Dungeon".

37. The wall of weapons in Joshua and Margaret's house includes the iconic Demon Blood Sword, which was broken in "Play Date", as well as Margaret's auto-loading crossbow from "Joshua & Margaret Investigations".

38. Jermaine is sidelined a few times through the episode, in reference to his attitude in "Jermaine" where he feels that Finn and Jake were always their parents' favourites. I would have hoped things would be a bit better by now.

39. Fern gets name dropped while Finn and Jake are reuniting. A shame he doesn't actually show up in the episode.

40. In this scene, Finn says "What time is it?" This is a very subtle reference to the 2010 cartoon "Adventure Time".

41. In a couple of shots during this fight scene it looks like Jake might have a tattoo. It seems like it only becomes visible when he stretches out his arm.

42. New Death's amulet in this scene resembles parts of the Lich's cape, foreshadowing his influence on New Death.

43. There are several more cameos in the 50th Dead World: Booshy from "High Strangeness", one of the Marshmallow Kids from "Scamps", and Ghost Princess and Clarence, who were seen ascending to the 50th Dead World in "Ghost Princess".

44. Finn didn't interact with Booshy in "High Strangeness", but it seems they must have met at some point before they both died because Finn knows his name.

45. It seems like people in the 1st Dead World are slowly melted away until they become part of the landscape. Nasty.

46. Lots more cameos in this scene: a gnome from "Power Animal", a gnome from "The Enchiridion", a Bath Boy from "The Vault", Blagertha from "Love Games", Maja the Sky Witch, a troll from "Dungeon", Chocoberry, Choose Goose, Wyatt, a spiky person from "Gut Grinder", and possibly more.

47. Tiffany's insults are consistently nonsensical and amazing, as they were in the original series.

48. The Candy Kingdom looks extremely different. Peppermint Butler is wearing the crown so he might be in charge now, which is supported by the kingdom's very magical-looking augmentations. It’s not clear whether Finn and Jake were expecting to find Princess Bubblegum or Peppermint Butler, since both have the initials “PB” and both could be going by the title of “Princess”. Perhaps Peps and Bubblegum share the princess duties now that PB is living with Marceline more of the time.

49. Peppermint Butler has a "Boss" mug, although it's not the same colour as the one from "Obsidian".

50. Jake's ghost has the same design as he did when BMO killed him in "Ghost Fly". I also absolutely love Finn's ghost. This scene establishes that ghosts are just visitors to the mortal plane from the dead worlds.

51. Life has only appeared in animated shorts before now. Namely, "The Gift That Reaps Giving" which establishes her relationship with Death, and "Frog Seasons: Winter". This episode gives her a concrete place within Adventure Time's pantheon: she is in charge of reincarnation.

52. A translation of Life’s angry French dialogue by Shado: “After all I did for that boy. After all I did for him. No, it's not possible. It's not possible no, that... that makes me so mad but it's not possible.”

53. We finally have in-universe confirmation that Shoko's tiger is a previous life of Jake. This was previously confirmed by one of the writers, but wasn't canon until now.

54. I feel like Finn pulled off Shoko's look even better than Shoko did. I wonder whether Finn has gained the memories of his past lives now that he’s dead.

55. No Easter egg here, just want to appreciate this image.

56. There is an elemental symbol on the wall here, as seen in "Jelly Beans Have Power".

57. Tiffany's dramatic internal monologue is a recurring gag, as is his habit of nearly dying from falling into holes.

58. The Jake suit makes a cameo in the fight against New Death. It was last seen in the episode "Reboot”.

59. Finn's backpack contains a few familiar items: the t-shirt with the pocket from "It Came from the Nightosphere", Finn's underwear from "Little Dude" and other episodes, and a copy of Mind Games as I've already mentioned.

60. The Lich's Hand is present in the background of Death's... death scene. This is probably the unseen "friend" who New Death keeps talking about.

61. The Lich's menacing monologues often begin with a single command. Previously they have included "Fall" and "Stop". This time, the command is "Burn".

62. Jake uses the word "boingloings", which is a callback all the way to "Hitman" in the third season.

63. Jake's blue shape-shifter form from "Abstract" appears very briefly during his fight with Finn.

64. Finn's lumpy space person form also makes an appearance. This design was last seen all the way back in the second episode of the entire show, "Trouble in Lumpy Space".

65. Jake steps on the Lich's hand in a very similar way to how he stepped on Ash in "Memory of a Memory", which is itself a Monty Python reference.

66. The credits include a dedication to a few AT cast and crew who have passed away. Polly Lou Livingston was the voice of Tree Trunks. Miguel Ferrer was the voice of Death. Michel Lyman and Maureen Mlynarczyk were both sheet timers on the original series. Rest in peace.

67. The message that Finn and Jake write out on the ouija board is "BUTT", which Peppermint Butler takes as a distress signal. This message is also used as a distress signal by the Hot Dog Knights in "The Limit".

68. Peppermint Butler's reversed dialogue from the scene where he makes contact with Finn and Jake is "Kee-Oth Rama Pancake", the spell from “Dad's Dungeon” for banishing demons.

69. That appears to be President Porpoise with all of Tree Trunks’ other lovers.

70. In this scene, Life is humming part of "Lonely Bones", the song which Death tried to record for her in her debut short "The Gift That Reaps Giving". It's hard to notice because it's so brief.

71. Finn and Jake's cover is blown while in the Land of the Dead because Jake loudly farts, which also happened in "Death in Bloom".

72. The place where Mr. Fox explains the perception mechanics of the afterlife is the exact same location as the River of Forgetfulness from "Death in Bloom", which, as it turns out, was imaginary.

These are sort of out of order at the end because I was adding stuff to the Twitter thread as it got discovered. That’s all for now!

[missinghan]

cold sun ⤖ han jisung

❖ genre : soulmate au; fluff; angst

❖ word count : 2,6k.

❖ warning : slight swearing

❖ summary : in a world where one will lose something if their soulmate doesn’t reciprocate their words of love once they turn sixteen, jisung is willing to take the risk so you won’t have to bear the burden.

❖ note : i just realized how i always tend to write for jisung when i'm down :')) anywho this piece is a little different than what i usually come up with but i hope y'all enjoy it ♡

It’s the first day of the week.

“Hey, Y/N. I like you!”

And Han Jisung is really annoying.

Those words come out so easily. It's casual in a way that makes you bury your red nose deeper into the soft fabric of your scarf, which makes your footsteps quicken unknowingly as his voice chases after you loudly. Either way, this isn’t the first time Jisung has said so. In fact, it’s become a habit for him to remind you every other day.

There’s no particular reason why. Or at least that’s what you think.

It’s the end of the week. Jisung decides to hang himself upside down on your bed while you’re stressing over a presentation. “Hey, Y/N.” A cold winter breeze comes rushing against the perplexing glass of your window, shaking the frame violently before all motions come to silence.

Until, “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N,” he creeps up from behind you and chirps into your ear.

“What?” you let out a groan of displease when tempting warmth embraces you whole, prompting you to drop your attention and looking over your shoulder.

Jisung pouts, “You didn’t answer me.”

“It’s because you’re annoying,” you sigh.

“Answer me when I call your name,” he pulls you in a fraction tighter, careful enough not to hurt you but firm to not let you slip away at the same time, and cradles your neck warmly, “So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“Alright, stupid.”

The all too familiar gummy smile returns instantly. “Hey, Y/N?”

And you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Yes, Jisung?”

“I like you,” he giggles into the hug, “I like you a lot.”

Han Jisung really is annoying.

He’s annoying because he talks too much. He’s annoying because of how he always asks for your notes after a gaming night with Felix just to nap in class. He’s annoying because he’d drop you in a heartbeat for a single slice of cheesecake from Jeongin’s mom’s bakery. He’s annoying because of how well he can get along with everyone.

Chatty, down-to-earth, easy-going with a lovable smile—attractive, very attractive.

It’s the week after that. “What...happened?”

“He lost his voice,” Jeongin sighs, looking like he genuinely wants to facepalm himself against concrete while walking with an incoherent Jisung to school; expressive hands with his mouth agape and all.

You tilt your head, “...for real?”

“For real.”

After a few seconds of eyeing Jisung struggling with converting what’s in his head, you exhale deeply and quickly rummage through your backpack, “Just stop, you look ridiculous.” And he does just that, zipping his mouth metaphorically and giving you those typical puppy eyes. “Here, use this.”

His eyes light up like stars when you rip off a page from one of your notebooks and offer it to him along with a pen. Truth is, you’re expecting something as predictable as ‘I like you’ or ‘It’s alright it’s just the worst cold I’ve ever caught’. But then, what’s displayed on the piece of paper right now only baffles you.

Park is going to murder you if he sees some uglyass tear in your Ochem notes :)

A forced grin splits your lips open. “Not if I murdered you first and then the entire school and then myself.”

The first genuine smile blossoms on his lips when you give him a mini-sized notepad and pencil the day after—his sixteenth birthday.

And Jisung decides this is it.

It happens when the sun hasn’t even come out yet and the irritating blue light from his phone reads 5:32 AM.

It happens when he sees your reclined figure leaning back against his mattress, his pupils tracing your delicate features. Perplexed emotions fill his eyes to the brim, fulfillment bursting within his chest when you stare right back at him with such purity. So pure that it seems you can do no harm to him and neither can he.

“Hey stupid,” you murmur quietly, shoving a notepad and pencil against his chest, “Happy birthday.”

Jisung gives you a bright smile, opens his mouth, and snaps it close mere moments later. Sixteenth birthday. Early in the morning. Tired grins. The fondness of being so disgustingly in love.

He can’t help but lean in and caves into the taste his soul has longed for as long as he can remember.

Two weeks have passed since Jisung has lost his voice.

Nothing has differed if you’re being completely honest. Han Jisung is still annoying. His lack of ability to speak doesn’t appear to be a problem to him at all. He loves chatting with people even though he’s more of a listener now. But with the small notepad you gave him a few days ago, being socially active is the norm for him even now.

Thanks to his rather short-period experiences of observing people’s expressions and how their features contort in certain ways when they’re feeling certain emotions, Jisung catches onto your mood more quickly during bad days to help you release your inner turmoil by scribbling down something stupid on the notepad. It’s kinda nice like this, you’d think to yourself sometimes.

Other times, you’re more scared that you might have forgotten what his voice sounds like.

“No wonder you got a fucking cold. Stop taking midnight showers already.”

You wave Jisung over when he closes the wooden door to your bedroom, droplets dripping from his hair as he scratches his stomach tiredly. His hair is a mess when he lazily crawls onto your bed, the cushion beside you dips slightly.

His index finger pointing at his post-shower head and a shit-eating grin are all you need to snatch the white towel around his neck.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed,” you mumble while rubbing the cotton fabric into his hair, “But you’re awfully upbeat for someone who’s lost their voice. Can’t you at least pretend to be sad about it?”

A noise of protest escapes his throat like second nature as your eyes carefully read the quick movements of his mouth. “And can you not be so mean to someone who’s lost their voice?”

A faint smirk creeps its way up to your lips. “Still like me now?”

Jisung thinks hard for a few moments before jumping out of bed to snatch his notepad from your studying area. Of course, I like you. I like you a lot. Your heartbeat momentarily spikes at his scrawny handwriting. Just when your gaze is averted away to cool the blush on your cheeks, he tugs at your sleeve again and points at a different mess of scribbles. You’re more gentle when I’m like this. And you’d always find me if I ever got into trouble. What’s there for me to be sad about?

“Annoying little shit,” you swallow your pride and let him settle his head against your chest.

His presence melts into yours during the hardest hours of the twenty-four, heartbeats on heartbeats and warmth on warmth. Your one regret is that you’re unable to register his tears that night, only the incoherent, breathless hiccups almost as to desperately call out your name.

It’s been a month since Jisung’s lost his voice. And the night when he kisses you for the second time, his notepad is long forgotten next to your pillow.

I-can’t-talk. Give-me-a-break.

Jeongin. Cheesecake. Please? Pretty please?

I’ll fucking kick you.

Wait, there’s homework?!

...so you’re telling me LMAO isn’t how French people laugh?

“This is what you’ve been doing during breaks huh…” you mumble under your breath while lazily flipping through the papers. The occasional ‘I like you’-s do pop up every two pages or so, which is more than enough to make you smile like an idiot. But that is until a peculiar paragraph yanks your attention by its neck and tosses it against a brick wall.

Mom, promise me you’re not going to cry.

He made auntie cry?!

I lost my voice for real now but it wasn’t supposed to be like that at first. I just wanted to mess with Y/N and freak her out for a day.

I’m seriously going to punch him.

She was a lot softer toward me after that, you know. I know it’s extremely selfish of me but I just can’t help being so happy. I’m sorry, mom. I really am.

Han Jisung you fucking idiot.

I was going to surprise her on my birthday by saying ‘good morning’ out loud but nothing came out. My voice was gone.

Guilt, anger, remorse take over you. You knew nothing of this. You never once questioned for a logical reason behind the loss of his voice and kept moving onward as if it’s not that big of a deal. You didn’t suspect it as a kind of prank, either. But you still care, all this time! You have been doing everything in your power as a way for both you and Jisung to treasure himself even if he can’t speak anymore.

I went to a check-up last week. Nothing came up. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

However, without fail, the obnoxious part of you will keep wandering back to the concept of soulmates that has been engraved so deeply into the society you’re living in. It makes no sense to you that Jisung lost his voice for no reason right before his sixteenth birthday. This explains it all now.

It’s going to be okay, mom. Because I have Y/N. I know she would come running toward my side over and over again even if she can’t hear me anymore. I really don’t know what I’d do without her in my life.

Jisung knew the penalty for being the first to exchange any words of love yet he still did it. And you were too busy overlooking that stupid pride of yours to say those three words back.

It’s getting to the point where I’m starting to forget what I used to sound like. I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.

Jisung fixes the strap of his backpack, looking up at his mom after slipping into his sneakers. She ruffles his bed head and hands him a small white box with Jeongin’s bakery’s signature logo on it.

He tilts his head in faint confusion, peering at the box of pastry in his arms.

“Give it to Y/N on the bus, okay? Her parents aren’t home right now. You know how she would always skip breakfast when they’re out of town.”

His eyes light up instantly in realization and Jisung nods, preparing to bid her farewell. Just then, his front door comes flying open. It can’t be a mere acquaintance because there are very few people other than his parents and himself who know of the spare key hidden under the welcome mat.

As Jisung turns around, he’s keenly aware of your teary eyes already trained on him. Which in hindsight, makes no sense. As a result, panic rises within the hollowness of his chest, his lips falling agape but no coherent words come out.

“Y/N, sweetheart,” his mom flinches, slightly caught off guard, “Is everything okay?”

A scowl stretches over your contorted features as you shut the door loudly. “What the hell is this?” you question, shoving the familiar notepad into his chest. “A prank? A prank?! Do you think that this is funny?”

Jisung’s frantic eyes move to read the paper and every single color on his face drains tremendously. He easily recognizes the peculiar paragraph by how much lighter the ink is compared to the rest of the messy lines because his pen was running low and his hand couldn’t stop shaking.

Your voice.

His eyes avert back to look at you. His brows furrow timidly and shaky breaths burst from his lips almost like a desperate cry for help. There’s too much he wants to say, too many things to explain, and too many questions running through his head that he can’t process what to do next. He might just overwhelm both you and himself.

I need to hear it again.

And you might not stay by his side this time.

“Okay, don’t answer me then, I guess,” you chuckle lowly, dipping your head and turning around.

Jisung grabs at your sleeve instinctively and drops the pastry box, his gaze empty and all too knowing. Sorrow glazes over his starry eyes when it starts becoming hard to breathe properly. The outlines of his lips are moving non-stop yet nothing comes following after that.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you rasp out and tug at his hand. Then it hits you. He’s like this because of you. Jisung lost his voice because of you.

His mom cuts into the conversation, “Y/N, you don’t understand!”

“I’m sorry, auntie,” you smile sadly and take off running into the streets.

You, in the midst of your self-loathing and guilt, allow your feet to go wherever they want as your vision spirals into a blur. A single droplet threatens to fall when a forceful hand yanks you back to reality.

It takes Jisung a moment to regain his regular breathing pace. And when he finally gets it, all he can do is call out to you with the same inaudible sounds and the same desperation in his eyes. It seems as though he’s fully aware that the prank was the stupidest, most irrational thing he’s ever done. But there’s more to the ocean within his eyes than just remorse.

“I already told you,” you clench your jaw and slap his hand away, “I don’t fucking know what you’re saying!”

A deep sigh. “Why am I mad? Of course, I’d be mad! It’s because of me that you lost your voice! It’s because I like you, too! Yet I never said it back… You lost your voice because of me! Don't you get it? Why can't you just hate me for the sake of it?!”

You miss his voice. You miss it a lot.

You want to hear it again. You want to hear him call you by your name. You want to stay up late and talk about anything to the ends of the Earth and back with him. You want him to be the obnoxious, chatty Han Jisung you've always known.

You miss how annoyingly loud he is.

“Y-Y...Y/N…!”

Jisung collapses onto his knees, a hand on concrete while the other is on his neck. His chest rises and falls unevenly, muffled noises of discomfort echoing deep down from his throat. Despite that, what you heard just now, is his voice.

“Answer me when I call your name. So I’d know that you’re still here with me.”

“I promised you, didn’t I,” you spread your arms and smile warmly, “That I’d always answer when you call my name. As long as I can still hear you, I will come running toward you over and over again. Doesn’t matter what it takes, doesn’t matter where you are.”

Jisung lifts his head and tears come rolling down on his cheeks. His throat feels swollen when he stutters with difficulties, trying to convey what’s in his head, “Y-Y/N, don’t- don’t go! Please don’t leave me...!”

“Come here,” you close your eyes with the widest grin on your lips, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Only when Jisung grows closer and throws his arms around you, sobbing into your uniform do you convince yourself that all of this isn’t a hallucination. The hug is a lot stronger than what you’d expect. First of all, you nearly fell over from the impact and your arms are pinned so tightly to your sides that you feel like your ribs are going to snap.

Everything is so overwhelming that all you can say is, “Ow.”

“Sorry,” he mumbles into your hair and loosens his arms a bit so you can loop your hands to the nape of his neck and hair.

“You’re so annoying, Han Jisung.”

He purses his lips, sniffling, “You tried to make me snap on purpose. Meanie.”

You quirk a playful brow, “Still like me now?”

“Yeah,” Jisung smiles, “A lot.”

Because he knows that he has you. Until every last star in the galaxy explodes as a supernova, Jisung has you.

[thekatebridgerton]

penelope as LW: *sounds like a wise old lady who Knows absolutely Everything and hints at Scandalous Stuff*

penelope in reality: pregnant??? without getting married??? how is that possible???????? ????????????? tHrOuGh LOVE?????????????? *insert confused woman meme*

I mean it checks out do you know how many 15 yo in AO3 who have never had a boyfriend write better smut than seasoned sex experts?

Penelope was just following the age old tradition of embellish fanfiction with imagination and sounding legit. There are teens in AO3 who know more about sex than I do. Heck I learned about sex from AO3 and we're all total virgins in real life

Penelope being Lady Whistledown at 16 without knowing anything about scandalous stuff and sounding like she was an experienced woman is actually one of the most realistic things there is in the whole franchise.... (When you're someone who started writing fanfiction at age 12 and never looked back, this checks out)

In the books and in the show. Penelope is faking it. Totally! But she's a writer! Faking it in print is part of what we do.

I could write better smut at 16 than I can now because at 16 I had a bigger imagination. And things like 'human physiology' and 'physical impossibilities' didn't bother me.

I can imagine how proud Penelope was of people who read Lady Whistledown and thought she knew about bedroom stuff and what rakes did in Covent garden after dark. Girl had mad writing skills. No wonder her publisher loved her. Experienced woman yeah right, girl just spent too much time listening to people talk while they were ignoring her and put two and two together.

If you notice LW never actually goes into specifics when she talks about things Penelope doesn't know the specifics of. She just hints at it with some witty remark or some metaphor that will get people going, she doesn't have to know about scandals to pretend she does, as long as her readers have their mind dirty enough, a clever turns of phrase will do the trick.

Penelope doesn't have to outright say Anthony was cannodling with Sienna in Lady Whistledown. She doesn't know the dynamics of what happens between a lord and his mistress. But her readers do, so she just must hint that a certain Viscount and a beautiful opera singer frequently sought out by many men were seen together at so and so ball. The waging tongues will do the rest

But truthfully Penelope is the perfect example of a fanfiction author who can write smut like a pro, yet in real life is the most innocent looking virgin ever.

Reason #5365 why I'm #teamPenelope

Ps: Hey adult followers here's a question for those who read fanfiction. What type of stuff did you read and write at age 16? Personally I was already reading the Bridgerton books and Christina Dodd's governess bride series when I was 14, so at 16 there might have been worse things...

Right Pen?

[catty-words]

Okay, so I’ve been rereading a ton of benvi fanfic and naturally I came across your fanfic “You’re gonna fall (but I’ll catch you)”. You know the one. And as I was rereading I was taking like note of parts I really liked and I noticed all these little metaphors (is that the right word? Idk) of how their kisses are like the beginning of a novel, which is so so clever. Cause their first kiss was the beginning of their love story and it’s just so good.

I just loved it! The whole thing is brilliant and how you write Ben and Devi’s banter is absolutely wonderful. But I think my favorite thing is how you write Devi and all her inner thoughts and motivations. You just get her characterization so perfectly. Also her relationship with Nalini is written so beautifully, the struggles and their eventual hope at reconciliation. Anyways, sorry for rambling. But I really loved it, I really love all your writing. You are extremely talented. Thanks for blessing the fandom with your talent. ❤️

i tried to answer this last night when i got it, but all i could do was stare at this feeling absolutely Overcome so. let's see if i can scrape together some coherent thoughts today. 🙏

the thing about all the story-related creative language in this fic is that i was overindulging my own love of reader!ben. i will never stop getting mileage out of the "what? i'm a reader!" line.

the other thing about it - aside from the fact that choosing a Theme for the metaphors is just something i find useful when it comes to writing sexy scenes for giving the whole thing a polish and cohesion - is that it's devi unconsciously sharing ben's outlook on life. the same thing she mocks him for - being too swept up in fiction - is the thing they bond over. as much as she doesn't want to see herself in ben because she's, like, so much cooler than him, thank you very much, they are undeniably alike where it matters.

the other other thing about this thread is that it's an extension of canon's own preoccupation with agency and what having it means for devi. in the fic, though she feels pretty destabilized because of the loss of her dad and her fight with nalini, she still can't help thinking in terms of what it means to be in charge of the proverbial pen. and craving that control while also thinking about her life in terms of writing a fictional story is the perfect dissonance for her. she wants the control at the same time she's actually surrendering her ownership of it by thinking of her actions as a story she's telling herself.

and ben noticing and calling her out on it is like. once again they share something essential about how they view the world. he can see what she's doing to her life and put a name to it so readily because he's dealt with similar impulses. and also because he's an insufferable philosophy major. 💙

[winterscaptain]

roots.

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: another one from 2026! aaron retires from federal service this year, at 57. 

words: 2.4k warnings: kids!, missing haley hotchner hours, language

summary: “Every day the increasing weight of years admonishes me more and more, that the shade of retirement is as necessary to me as it will be welcome.” ― George Washington, Farewell Address. au!october 2026

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

SSA Mallory Kagan asks you to outline your career with the FBI - purposefully using your first name instead of using your title. It keeps the students guessing and paying attention. 

Plus, the payoff when they figure out who you are is the best part of the whole lecture. 

“My career at the FBI is more like a big tree than a path or a journey.” 

You look out over the classroom - blue shirts abound - and take a deep breath to center yourself. 

You’re used to giving this lecture with Aaron, but this is your first fall without him, which also means that this is the first academy class who won’t know him in person. 

They’ll only hear tell of the legend SSA Aaron Hotchner was stabbed nine times, lost his wife to a serial killer, and kept going. You know they’ll hear stories about his severity, his general lack of sunniness, hear rumors about the way he laughs with his children, his wife, and nobody else. 

You know the older agents tell stories about you, too. They say you ‘tamed’ Hotch, made him a little nicer. They might even say they’ve seen him smile at you, or they’ve seen you give him hell in public. 

Aaron Hotchner is practically a myth, now, only supported by your reputation, tall tales from academy classes of yesteryear, and his own legacy.

That retired bastard currently sits in your house with your kids, right on his fine behind, very likely falling into boredom-addled insanity. 

“Everything that I am - a parent, a wife, a friend, and an agent - is because of my work with the Behavioral Analysis Unit over the past nineteen years. My unit is my family, and I can’t get rid of them. Just like our own families, we love to hate each other.” 

The room laughs, and you know you have them hooked. 

“Jokes aside, I would encourage you to get to know your colleagues. Each relationship I built within my unit put a root into the ground, made the proverbial tree stronger - to extend the metaphor. I work with very few of the same people I started with, but I feel as steady and supported as I did back when they called us ‘The Elite Eight.’” 

You chuckle a little, clicking through your introductory slide to showcase a photo of the BAU in 2012. You point to each of them as you speak. 

“SSA Emily Prentiss, current unit chief of the Behavior Analysis unit and former head of the Interpol London office, responsible for taking down one of the most prolific international arms dealers in modern history.” 

The room is quiet, a little awestruck, so you add, “She’s a bit of a big deal.” 

They laugh.

“SSA Derek Morgan - you’ll probably hear stories about how he survived the Boston bombing with SSA Gideon in 2005, but don’t worry. He wasn’t there. He was with his momma in Chicago, celebrating her birthday.”

Another laugh. 

You’ve honed this routine over the last five years, knowing what to add, when to pause, what to cut if the students lose interest. 

“That said, SSA Morgan is one of the best profilers I’ve had the pleasure of working with. Today, he’s a consultant for DC Metro SWAT and is otherwise retired.”

Continuing down the line, “SSA Jennifer Jareau - JJ. Former communications liaison for the BAU, State Department, and DoD. She currently serves with the BAU as a profiler. If any of you are interested in PR or media relations, find an opportunity to speak with her about her experience. Her husband, Will, is a detective with the DC Metro Police and has plenty of stories of his own.”

A student raises a hand, and you give her the go-ahead. 

“Sorry for interrupting -“

You stop her. “You didn’t interrupt. You raised your hand. Don’t apologize for taking up space.” 

She smiles a little. “Okay. Um, I’m curious. How many people in your unit are married and/or have children? My understanding is that the work-life balance can be difficult in heavy-travel positions like the BAU.”

“It can absolutely be a challenge.” You look back at the photo. “In the course of my career, six of my colleagues have been or were already married and all of them went on to have children.”

“And you?”

You laugh a little, forgetting you’re alone up here. “Right.” 

The class laughs, and you point yourself out on the slide. 

“I still had my maiden name when this photo was taken, but now I share five children and a last name with SSA Aaron Hotchner.” You throw your thumb at Aaron’s likeness on the screen again for good measure. 

You check in with SSA Kagan to make sure you can share everything you usually do with Aaron present - your marriage was often the punchline of your lectures, letting you toe the line of humor a little farther than you normally would. 

She nods, a little smile on her face. 

“While I wouldn’t necessarily recommend dating your unit chief or marrying your section chief -“ you pause, holding your hands up in surrender to the echo of laughter “- even if they are the same person - you can certainly find the best people without looking too hard.” 

Hands shoot up into the air, but that always happens. It’s around this time people start asking the good questions. The people from their course materials and the people in front of them start to link together. 

They also figure out that you’re Agent Hotchner. That Agent Hotchner - the one married to the Agent Hotchner. 

You look out over the crowd again. “I know you have lots of questions, and I’m happy to confirm or deny any rumors about myself or my family, but,” you pause for dramatic effect. “Hold them for now - you’ll want to know the players before you ask the questions.” 

Hands drop, but pens start moving. You continue down the line, skipping over Aaron. 

“SSA David Rossi, a founding member of the BAU in the late 1980’s. He worked closely with SSA Jason Gideon, developing a database that we use to this day - one that outlines signatures, modus operandi, and victimology of modern serial killers. SSA Rossi is also well-known for his books - ten of them, in fact, that cover what we do in a kind of…” 

You search for a word. 

“Conversational format. He retired a couple of years ago, and is a full-time grandpa to all 16 of the BAU offspring.”

A few scattered chuckles pass through the room. 

“And then we have Dr. Spencer Reid - I could enumerate his degrees, but we don’t have that kind of time. He’s the smartest person I’ve ever met, and remains an asset to the BAU in the field today.” 

You click to another slide - a photo of all of you taken a few weeks ago. 

“SSA Matthew Simmons - retired from the United States Army and former member of the FBI International Response Team, or IRT. He’s been with the BAU for ten years now. Like Dr. Reid and SSA Prentiss, he knows multiple languages - which comes in handy.” You look out and raise your eyebrows. “I hope all of you did well in your Spanish classes in high school - you might need it.” 

Another laugh. 

“SSA Luke Alvez and Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia are another pair that come from, shall we say, nontraditional backgrounds. While Garcia is no longer with the BAU, SSA Alvez is also celebrating his tenth year with us this fall.” 

A student raises his hand, and you call on him. 

“Isn’t Penelope Garcia the hacker known as The Black Queen? I learned about her work when I was at MIT.” 

You snort. “Nice way to slip in you went to MIT, there, bud.” You pause, waiting for the ruckus to die down as the student in question turns bright red. “But yes. Her experience was invaluable to our team. Just to keep up, we stole an analyst from the NSA to replace her - nobody else could cut the mustard.” 

You look back, stepping forward and pacing as you speak.”And finally, Dr. Tara Lewis. Formerly working in the FBI Counsel’s office as a forensic psychologist, she joined our team on cases where specific pathologies were in play before becoming a full-fledged member of our team.

“So, as you can see, there are so many varied qualities we look for in profilers, and your own path will be informed by the skills you develop, your temperament, and your dedication to the work itself. There’s no right way to be an agent, and when you leave the academy in five weeks, the whole world of the bureau will be open to you.” 

Clicking back to your introductory slide, you turn to the front of the classroom. “I know all my colleagues well enough to take any questions you may have about their careers and paths through the bureau. For any questions I can’t answer, I am happy to direct you to them with the understanding they may not get back to you due to our caseload. I’ll take your questions now.” 

Hands shoot up into the air, and you specifically call on the student in the back - the one you know has a question about Aaron. 

“So, when you say SSA Aaron Hotchner, you mean the same one that worked the Boston Reaper case for ten years?”

SSA Kagan checks in with you, ready to shut him down, but you call her off. 

“That’s right. SSAs Jareau, Morgan, Prentiss, Rossi, Dr. Reid, Miss Garcia, and I worked that case in its final year as well.” 

“I have a follow-up if that’s okay.” 

You tacitly give him leave to continue. 

“How do you handle cases that get that… close? I know there were considerable...” He searches for the right word. “...challenges. How did you guys deal with that?”  

Good question. 

Returning to the podium, you lean heavily against it, lacing your fingers in front of you. “You’ve all read the Reaper case file, yes? It’s still included in the MCRT training courses?”

There are nods around the room, but you check in with Kagan anyway. 

“The declassified version is covered,” She says. “They’re familiar with the full scope of the case.” 

“Okay. So, as you all know…”

You remind them what happened, from 1998 to 2009, finally landing where the students want you. “And on November 23rd, 2009, Haley Reneé Hotchner was George Foyet’s 40th and final victim. She was thirty-nine years old. And she was my friend.” 

The room is dead silent, all eyes on you, somber and attentive. 

“The case was personal. It became personal because Foyet forced our hands. He attacked Agent Hotchner in his home and then targeted his family. So, the question is, how do we deal with that? Right?” 

Even Kagan’s watching you closely. It’s the first time you’ve covered this case without the rest of your team. In your joint lectures with Aaron, the case is off-limits for questions. She’s never heard you tell the story in your own words. 

You take a breath. “And the answer is… you don’t.” 

There are some confused faces, so you elaborate. “There isn’t anything you can do to push the case away from you - that’s how people get hurt. In the meantime, you make adjustments. Agent Hotchner placed Agent Morgan in an interim unit chief position until the case was over, for the sake of his health and sanity. We chased down every lead, understanding that the faster we caught Foyet, the faster Haley and Jack, Agent Hotchner’s son, could come home.” 

A young woman in front tentatively raises a hand, and you open a hand to her. “Yes?” 

“What happened, you know, after?” 

“We moved on as best we could. Going back to my original point -” 

You leave the podium and take your place in the center of the floor again. 

“- the trust you have in the people you work with can carry you through a great many things. And not all of you will see horror every day - but some of you will.” 

You pause for a moment, hoping this is the part that really sinks in for them. 

“Always have something to come home to. Always have something or someone that brings you peace, that can take you away from the work.” 

+++

You set your things down and walk through the door, immediately accosted by two almost-eight-year-olds and their over-eager little brother. 

“Momma!” 

You haul Elliot onto your hip and kiss Sophia’s head as Caroline burrows into your side. “Hi, darlings! Did you already have dinner?”

Sophia moves to answer, but Aaron’s voice shoots around the corner. “Yes!” 

With a smile, you seek him out, dragging the girls along with you. Lo and behold, Aaron’s at the sink, washing dishes. Isaac’s supervising - sitting on the counter, swinging his feet. 

Aaron gets a kiss on the cheek from you as you pass and he turns over his shoulder, chasing you until you peck him on the lips, Elliot squished between you. Your son squirms, and you set him on the ground to chase after his sisters. Isaac hops off the counter likely off to investigate the happenings before retreating to his room for the rest of the evening.

For once, you’re left alone. 

“How was your lecture?” 

Your arms free, you wrap around him and rest your full weight against his chest as he backs himself into the counter. “Went well. Missed you, though.” 

The corner of his mouth tips up. “Did they ask about Foyet?” 

“Mhmm. It was a good segue into trusting your team and building each other up, knowing when to step back, etcetera.” 

He nods. “Good way to bring it back around. How’s Kagan?” 

“She’s good, loving it, as always.” 

“Think she’s ever gonna retire?” He asks, tucking into your neck. 

You laugh as he presses kisses to the underside of your jaw. “Probably not.” 

Aaron leans back to look at you, bringing his hand to your face to brush over your cheekbone. “Are you ever gonna retire?” 

“Probably not.” 

“What if,” he says, his hands slipping into your back pockets, “you retired in…” He does the math in his head. “Thirteen-ish years and I make it worth your while.” 

“Oh yeah? Worth my while? And you’ll be, what, a hundred years old?” 

His eyes roll so hard you’re sure he could see his own brain. You pull him down for a kiss, but it doesn’t stop him from mumbling, “Give me a fuckin’ break,” against your mouth. 

“Never.” 

+++

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