#or outside of it. and it gives more to her feeling so connected to Henry quickly like there are threads there that could work nicely if

[kiwriteswords]

You Belong Among the Wildflowers [Aaron Hotchner x Florist!Reader]

Masterlist [I need to update this, sorry!]|| Ao3||Word Count: >2k|| AN: I worked as a florist for five years and it was some of the most fun and some of the most beautiful moments I got to witness. I thought this would be a fun meet!cute! I will be making its a series, so please send your requests in for Florist!Reader persona! Tags/Warnings: Female!Reader, Florist!Reader, Non-BAU!Reader, meet cute, mentions of Haley Hotchner, flirtation, first encounter, Reader is JJ's college friend, mentions of Hotch's upbringing. Summary: When Hotch is in need of a good florist, he meets you, JJ's old college friend, who leads him to believe that maybe flowers couldn't fix everything, but they sure as hell didn't hurt.

Aaron Hotchner didn’t believe flowers could fix everything.

But they sure as hell didn’t hurt.

It was something he picked up early—

Something he never really learned so much as absorbed. 

His mother, a quiet woman with tired hands and soft smiles, used to say she wished someone would bring her flowers just once. Her voice never wavered when she said it, never sharp or demanding—

Just wistful. 

A woman too often let down by a man who never came home with more than excuses and stale breath.

Aaron made a promise then, maybe only to himself, that if he ever loved someone, really loved someone, he’d bring them flowers just because.

He kept that promise with Haley.

He would come home from Quantico, exhausted and wired from the field, and there she'd be, soft and sleepy with her hair up and an old sweatshirt on. 

He always brought her something: white tulips in spring, sunflowers in summer, dahlias in the fall. 

When cases kept him too long, he'd send them instead. Sometimes with a note, sometimes without. It became tradition—

A silent ritual that kept their connection grounded no matter where he was or what horror he’d seen.

There was never not a vase filled with some sort of colorful bouquet displayed in their home together. 

And even with work. Flowers were a lovely…band-aid to place on he larger bureaucratic problems. 

When Gideon poked Garcia’s buttons the wrong way--

A bouquet and an apology, courtesy of Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner wanting a smooth sailing ship. 

When JJ had Henry--

He remembered her saying she liked lilies, so he sent her lilies from the team. 

There wasn’t a birthday or special occasion he didn’t have marked on his planner that didn’t have a corresponding floral delivery from his usual place sent out. 

And when Haley died, there wasn’t much he could do but exist. 

The BAU gave him time, but even time felt like a betrayal. The world kept spinning while his had stopped. 

But there was one thing he could do: plan her funeral.

And pick the flowers himself.

White roses.

Classic. Clean. Grieving.

He stood in the flower shop for over an hour, staring at arrangements, feeling too much and too little at once. The florist—an older woman with a warm smile and no questions—had guided him gently, like she knew when to step forward and when to give him room to breathe. 

He came back to her year after year after that, always requesting simple, elegant designs. She never asked why. He always appreciated that.

But now, standing outside the darkened storefront on a crisp weekday afternoon, Aaron realized she was gone. 

The sign had been flipped to Closed for weeks. 

A paper notice taped crookedly to the door read: Thank you for over 30 wonderful years. 

Just like that.

It shouldn’t have caught him off guard. 

People retired. 

Shops closed. 

But somehow, he felt... untethered. 

Like this small corner of familiarity in his life had vanished, and with it, another thread connecting him to Haley.

He had been trying to order something for Jessica—

Haley’s sister. 

It was her birthday. And while their relationship had always been complicated, especially with Jack involved, he didn’t want the day to go by without a gesture. Flowers had always been the language he was fluent in.

He mentioned it offhandedly in the bullpen the next morning—something low-key, muttered as he sifted through files.

JJ perked up immediately. “Wait—are you serious? You’re trying to find a florist?”

He gave a short nod, not looking up.

“You’re in luck,” she said, tapping her pen against her notepad. “One of my best friends from college owns a flower shop not far from here. You’d love her designs—they’re beautiful.” 

She smiled, a little too brightly, eyes dancing in a way that made him suspicious.

He arched an eyebrow. “Am I missing something?”

JJ laughed. “Okay, fine. She’s gorgeous. Like—flirtatiously elegant, painfully feminine, one of those women who makes it look effortless. But she’s smart, and she runs a really impressive business. And she's good, Hotch. Seriously. Her arrangements have personality. You’d appreciate the detail.”

“I’m only looking for—” he began, but JJ held up a hand.

“I know. But just give her a call. Or better yet, stop by. Tell her I sent you. She’ll take care of you.”

He sighed, already knowing JJ wasn’t going to drop it. And truthfully? He missed the ritual. 

The weight of a vase in his hand. 

The soft brush of petals when he leaned in to read a card. 

He missed the peace of it—

The stillness it gave him.

Maybe flowers couldn’t fix everything.

But maybe, just maybe, they could start something new.

The bell above the door jingled softly, delicate and old-fashioned—

Charming in a way that made Hotch instinctively lower his voice and straighten his posture, like the shop itself demanded a kind of reverence.

It smelled like summer mornings and memory. 

Sweet, green, earthy. 

The air was cooler inside, heavy with moisture and the subtle perfume of fresh-cut stems. 

Every surface had something blooming or trailing: lush peonies and garden roses in glass vases, eucalyptus spilling from galvanized buckets, tiny pots of violets arranged like a tea party on a shelf by the window.

And then there was you.

You were at the counter, bent slightly over a worktable, hands delicately threading wire through a bouquet of ranunculus and sweet pea. 

Your fingers moved with practiced elegance—

Intentional but light, as though the flowers were something sacred. 

You wore a linen apron over a dress, a pair of delicate gold hoops catching the light when you turned to see who had come in.

JJ hadn't exaggerated.

You were beautiful in that way that didn’t feel real at first. 

Soft around the edges, like you'd stepped out of a memory or an old film. But the mischief in your eyes was immediate, sparking to life the moment you took him in.

“Let me guess,” you said, lips curving into a smile as you stepped out from behind the counter. “JJ sent you?”

Hotch blinked. He hadn’t even said a word yet.

“I can always tell,” you added, folding your hands in front of you with a playful tilt of your head. “It’s the suit. Very FBI but emotionally repressed gentleman in need of a good centerpiece.”

That got the corner of his mouth to twitch. Barely. But it was there.

“Guilty,” he admitted, taking a step closer. “I’m Aaron Hotchner.”

“JJ’s boss,” you echoed like it meant something—

Like she'd mentioned him before. Then you extended your hand, which he took with a polite firmness that faltered slightly the moment your fingers brushed.

Your touch was cool, confident. 

A stark contrast to the warm tilt of your grin.

You introduced yourself with your first name, gesturing loosely to the shop. “Welcome to my little kingdom.”

He looked around again, letting himself take it in now—not just the flowers, but the way they were arranged. Every display felt curated but not staged. Wild, almost, but intentional. Like you trusted the flowers to speak for themselves and only nudged them into poetry.

“It’s impressive,” he said, his voice softer than usual. “Peaceful.”

Your expression shifted for just a moment, something fond and knowing crossing your face. “That’s what I aim for. Flowers should feel like exhaling.”

There was a pause, comfortable and quiet, before you asked, “So, what are we celebrating, Agent Hotchner?”

“It’s Jessica’s birthday. My son’s aunt. She’s done a lot for our family, especially after… a loss.” His tone remained even, but the weight in his words lingered.

You didn’t press. Your smile softened with understanding.

“Got it,” you said gently. “So something warm. Grateful. Nothing too romantic, but still thoughtful.”

He nodded, a little surprised at how quickly you’d read the situation.

“I can do that,” you assured him, already moving to gather a few stems in your hands. “Now, do you trust me, or do you want to pick the flowers yourself?”

Hotch hesitated.

“I used to,” he said. “Pick them, I mean. For my wife. It became a tradition. I knew what she liked. But it’s been a while.”

You stopped what you were doing, the bouquet held loosely in your hands.

“I’m sorry,” you said. Not with pity—

Just sincerity.

He inclined his head. “Thank you.”

“Well,” you said after a beat, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “if it helps, I think people always know more about flowers than they realize. It’s just about memory and emotion. Pick one thing you remember her liking, and we’ll start there.”

Hotch thought for a moment. Then: “She liked lilies. The white ones. But they were always too delicate.”

“Casa Blanca lilies,” you murmured, nodding. “Gorgeous, but yes—temperamental. They bruise just from being looked at wrong.”

He huffed out something close to a laugh, and you caught it—

Your eyes flicking to his in quiet delight.

You held up a peachy, cream-tipped rose. “This might be a better choice for today. It says thank you, without screaming ‘I love you.’”

He studied it for a moment, then nodded. “Perfect.”

And as you moved behind the counter to wrap the arrangement, Hotch let himself breathe in again. 

The scent of flowers. 

The sound of soft music playing from somewhere in the back. 

It was easy-listening classic rock. Something he would listen to in the car. It was…comforting.

The easy rhythm of your presence.

You worked quickly, but never rushed.

Hotch watched from his spot at the counter as you wrapped the bouquet in delicate cream paper, folding it just so before tying it with a deep green ribbon that matched the stems. 

Every movement was graceful, intentional.

It reminded him of the way people worked when they loved what theydid—

Not for performance, but for the sake of making something beautiful.

You slid the arrangement across the counter and offered a soft, plesed smile.

“There,” you said, “peach roses, cream spray roses, stock flower for fullness, a little waxflower for texture, and just a touch of eucalyptus—because I have to sneak it in somewhere. It smells clean. Calm. And it says I see you. Thank you.” You tapped the corner of the paper gently. “In flower language, anyway.”

Hotch studied the bouquet, nodding with quiet approval.

“It’s perfect.”

You tilted your head at him, brows raised. “You sure? Not too showy? Not too much?”

He gave the smallest shake of his head. “No. It’s...thoughtful. She’ll like it.”

You smiled, but it softened when you noticed he lingered—

Not quite ready to leave.

So you said gently, “It’s nice, you know. That you still do this. For her.”

Hotch didn’t look away from the bouquet as he replied, “Sometimes I think gestures are all we have. Something tangible. When words aren’t enough.”

You leaned your forearms on the counter, chin tilted toward him. “That’s exactly what flowers are. Tangible emotion.”

There was a pause. 

Comfortable. 

Heavy, but not unpleasant.

He reached for his wallet, and you gently waved him off.

“I’ve got it.”

Hotch blinked. “You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to,” you said with a teasing lilt. “But you’re JJ’s friend, and more importantly, I want you to come back.”

That pulled his eyes to yours again—

Steady, searching.

You held his gaze, playful but earnest. “What? Even emotionally repressed gentlemen need a flower source. Besides, you’ve got good taste. I can always use a muse.”

He hesitated, but nodded. “Alright. I’ll come back.”

Your grin widened. “Good. Maybe next time for yourself.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow, and you shrugged.

“Nothing wrong with buying yourself flowers. I do it all the time.”

His voice was low, faintly amused. “Somehow, I think it suits you better.

That earned a laugh from you—

Light. 

Genuine.

Ringing through the quiet shop.

And as Hotch turned to leave, bouquet in hand, you called after him: “Tell Jessica I said happy birthday. And that her brother-in-law has surprisingly excellent flower game.”

He paused in the doorway and glanced back at you. “I’ll be sure to pass that along.”

Then he was gone, the bell chiming softly above him as the door shut.

But something lingered. That scent, maybe. Or the quiet flirtation. Or the unspoken I hope you come back that lived between the petals.

And for the first time in a long time, Hotch found himself already thinking about what arrangement he’d need next.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos @todorokishoe24 @looking1016  @khxna @rousethemouse @averyhotchner @reidfile @bernelflo @lover-of-books-and-tea @frickin-bats @sleepysongbirdsings @justyourusualash @person-005 @iyskgd @hiireadstuff @kcch-ns @alexxavicry @Sweethotchlogy @softtdaisy @superlegend216

[anincompletelist]

ㅤ♡ end of 2024/start of 2025 fic recs! ㅤ♡

my previous recs can be found under this tag!

happy new year everyone! :D I have been so far behind on my tbr list lately but I have managed a few that I've thoroughly enjoyed and felt like sharing! it is by no means a complete list - ha - but I grabbed a few I'd made note of in case anyone is looking for recs.

happy reading and a very happy new year to you all! x

in no particular order:

ㅤㅤㅤSweet Rivalry | bleedingballroomfloor | E | 11k

“Hunter’s entering again,” Alex explains before Henry can finish, “and somehow, that fucker beat both of us, even though he has half the skill of both of us combined. We’ve dominated the bake off year after year. If we want to see him go down, this is the only way to ensure that.” Henry blinks. “So you want to —” “Gang up so we can beat the shit out of Hunter, yeah. Were you even listening to anything I just said?” [Or, Alex and Henry are rival bakers day-to-day, but a newcomer in the Park Slope Christmas Cookie Bake-Off has them becoming a lot closer than originally planned.]

All my promise and my pride (all my fear and all my fight) | @kiwiana-writes | E | 10k

“And the thing is, I get it.” He grips his phone hard enough that he knows he’s risking cracking the screen again, barrelling forward before Henry can interrupt him with bullshit platitudes. “They’re both out there trying to fix the whole damn world to make it a little better for their trans son, but fuck, I miss being able to come home and having that be the one place I didn’t have to deal with any bullshit, you know?” The silence that follows is so absolute, Alex pulls the phone away from his ear to check that the call hasn’t dropped. “Henry?” “I’m here.” Henry’s voice is cracked and hoarse, and he must realise it at the same time Alex does, because he clears his throat before speaking again. “Alex, I don’t—did you mean to tell me that?” [Or, Alex is a stealth trans guy. That doesn't stop canon from barrelling ahead.]

(of everyone i ever knew) i'm giving it all to you | @alasse9 | T+ | 18k

[In a world where the be-all and end-all of relationships is determined by soul resonance, Henry can’t have a soulmate and Alex experiences soul resonance in such a disruptive way that he just doesn’t want one. Against all odds, this is their story.] So he obediently shuffles after June and Nora to say hello, trying his very best not to get distracted by all the connections his brain is shouting at him about. He’s actually trying so badly not to get distracted that he ends up not realizing it’s his turn to say hello to Prince Henry until he’s right there in front of Alex, holding out a hand, and it means he doesn’t have time to register much outside of wow, are his eyes really that blue? and that’s less of a smile and more of a grimace before their hands touch. And for the first time since puberty hit, it’s not a sensory shock, it doesn’t feel like someone’s soul is shouting at him. It’s peaceful. It’s— “Quiet,” Alex whispers. “Your soul is so quiet.”

hit me(n) baby one more time series | @bananzie | M | 15k

(no summary for the series as a whole but it's a&h as hit men! beautiful and captivating, and feel free to check out their entire whumptober as well if it's your thing -- it typically isn't mine but I ADORED all the works in the series!)

Whole Package Babe (I Like The Way You Fit) | @fairflowered | E | 3k

The thing is — they’ve talked about this. They’ve talked about it a lot, Henry fucking Alex. The mechanics of it, the things they’d need to order, if that was even something either of them wanted. (They wanted it).

King Alex and the Little Prince | @smc-27 | M | 16k

“We’ve a proposal. As a show of good faith, Her Majesty is willing to ally our kingdoms the old fashioned way.” Alex glares across the table. “What does that mean?” Philip tips his chin up. “There is a prince. He is yours if you’d like him.” Oh, for fuck’s sake.

+

and that's all for now! my goal is to finally get around to reading both more fic and physical books in the near future, so I will keep you all updated as I go along :D

x

[flying-fangirls]

Watching my little (half) joke post after Part 43 spark some discussion has made me think a lot over this for the past couple days, and I think I've pinpointed my main frustration with the women of Malevolent overall.

Simply put: the women of Malevolent do not get to have a voice.

Yes, literally they aren't voice-acted by Harlan. But I don't really want to get into that side of the topic here. I'm saying figuratively women do not have their own voice in this show.

Who is Bella outside of her relationships to Arthur or Daniel? Did she like music too, was she sarcastic or sincere, what was her biggest goal in life? Who is Faroe outside of how she makes Arthur feel? Who are Anna and Amanda outside of their connections to the King in Yellow? And I don't mean just a quick sentence-long description about them, I mean a genuine in-depth answer to "Who are they?"

Secondary characters that are men/male-aligned (Noel, Oscar, Collins, etc) have a strong sense of individual personality and motivations, enough that you could get a decent amount of discussion/analysis about them if you wanted. You can't get that kind of character discussion for the women if you tried because the show simply does not provide it for you, no matter how integral to the plot their characters (or concept of a character) may be. Heck, Shub set up the plot of this whole show and yet she's so nothing of a character that she's practically just a name to throw around when it sounds cool.

Almost everything we know about the women comes from men's perspectives, either through their side of relationships or through quick mentions of the women without any real substance to who those women really were. Other people have suggested the idea of finding a journal or a few more letters from Amanda to give her character more time/attention-- something similar could be done with any of the other women too, anything that lets their personalities/unique motivations be directly shown instead of vaguely mentioned or hinted at by men.

(I'll admit that I do think Marie is written more along the lines of secondary characters like Oscar, and I'm pretty happy with her character! But the fact that she's the only woman I can think of to break that pattern is... not great)

And yes I know that there are men in this show that also do not get to have their own voice (Roland, Parker, Henry, etc.) That's expected! All stories have characters that act as collateral or tools to move the plot/main characters forward. But when every single female character serves as a plot device with no strong sense of unique self, while only some of the male characters get that same treatment and the rest get plenty of personality and individuality-- that's when it becomes a problem.

The women of Malevolent get names (or, some of them do), they get roles and influence within the plot, and a few of them get small glimpses of what could be a personality if you look for it. But the women of Malevolent do not get a voice. We can see the vague shape of them on the edges of the show, but we never get the chance to hear them. And they never get the chance to speak themselves, to be heard.

I love Malevolent-- really, truly love this show. Which is why it's only so much more frustrating for me when it overall struggles to give its female characters the same respect as its male characters. Again, I'm not talking about the voice-acting, and I completely skipped the expanded cast of female characters (the wraith, the widow, the witch, etc.) and my concerns with what kinds of women are represented in the show and how they're presented. This post is really just me trying to express a genuine frustration that I (and at least a few other people) have with the writing of this show, and try to explain why those frustrations exist.

I promise this is NOT meant to be an attack on anyone and I'm not trying to deny other perspectives on this topic. This is also NOT an attack on Harlan or the podcast as a whole. I'm just trying to share some thoughts here.

[divergentmisfit-fandomsblog]

There’s something that isn’t often spoken about with grief. A phenomenon that happens that many feel often ashamed of afterwards. So I’ve put it in a one shot of this scene at a risk of getting cancelled for talking about it.

*** Trigger Warning ⚠️ Bereavement, Grief, Confusing, Seeking Comfort Whilst Grieving.***

Emma’s tears spilled over and rolled down her cheeks. Lip quivering, her eyes searched for Regina’s support knowing that of all the people most likely to understand her, Regina would, as she’d also experienced the loss of a lover.

Walking over to Emma, Regina pulled her into a hug, and Emma was finally able to give herself the permission to sob. Her knees buckled at the emotional release, causing the pair to collapse onto the floor whilst still holding onto each other.

Emma’s wailing cries became muffled, as she turned her face into Regina’s coat, shielding herself and her pain from her family.

Holding Emma close, Regina gently rocked her while she sobbed, and the sensation of being held and having the space to release for once, made Emma’s cries louder as her emotions overwhelmed her.

Hearing her parents’ familiar footsteps as Snow & David made their way over, Emma turned her face into Regina further. Regina’s body went rigid, shifting a little while shaking her head. Emma could only imagine the glare Regina was giving to her parents, but right now she didn’t care.

“No!” Regina asserted. “Let her release the pain.”

“With all due respect Regina, she’s my daughter…”

“With all due respect, Snow, you’ve never lost your husband for more than a minute. I know this pain all too well. So allow me to comfort her in the way that I know she needs to be comforted. In the way that I needed to be but never received. Regina’s tone was soft and her boundary firm. “In fact, all of you please leave.”

“Emma, honey? Do you want us to leave?” Snow asked quietly, placing a hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

Emma couldn’t speak, for her painful cries prevented words from escaping her. She nodded as she sobbed and held onto Regina with a tighter grip.

“Okay. Okay, we’ll go.” Snow relented.

“We love you, and we’ll just be right outside when you’re ready.” David assured, ushering Snow and everyone else out of the door, closing it behind them to give Emma and Regina some privacy.

“It’s okay Emma, I’ve got you.” Regina whispered, rocking her gently, one hand on the back of her head and the other around Emma’s waist. The guttural cries that came from Emma the moment she knew she was safe to release her devastation weren’t just the cries of losing Killian, but also losing Neal, and Walsh, and Graham. All of them deceased, and she hadn’t had time to process anything of the pain she’d been holding onto for them all. It had all bubbled to the surface and spilled over onto Regina’s coat. The were no words that would comfort her, no words that would soothe or give any sense of justice to the loss she was mourning. Nothing would fix it. She just needed to be loved and held.

“Just let it all out, Emma. You’re safe with me. I got you.” Regina spoke softly, and for once, Emma felt like she’d been given exactly what she needed in the moment she needed it, and the focus was all on her for a change. Not saving anyone else, and not even being rescued herself. Just having that space to feel and process actually in the moment while having someone she cares for holding her. It meant everything, because the person she’d tried to get to be that person for her, was now gone.

Exhaustion set in. She had cried more than she’d ever allowed herself to in her lifetime. Lulled by the comfort of Regina’s embrace, she could fall asleep right there in Regina’s arms.

“You did good Emma.” Regina whispered, kissing Emma’s head like she would have done had she been comforting Henry.

That little kiss felt good. Too good. Way better than she was feeling right now, and the urge to seek that connection confused Emma. Mourning the loss of the person she’d tried building a forever life with, and yet here she was wanting Regina to kiss her forehead again. Lifting her face from Regina’s lapel, Emma glanced up at her, searching for that sense of connection as her eyes faltered to Regina’s plum coloured lips, and that little scar she’d always secretly admired. Regina returned her glance, eyes meeting she offered Emma a soft, empathetic, reassuring smile .

“Though this will be feeling like it’s the hardest pain you’ve ever endured, I promise you, you will recover and build a life around this grief. It never leaves you, but I promise you that you can and will build a life around it.” Regina whispered, as she moved Emma’s wet blonde locks off the side of her face gently with her hand, she tucked the strands behind Emma’s ear.

Emma’s hand found Regina’s and she held it to her face and closed her eyes briefly, comforted by Regina’s delicate touch. As Emma opened her eyes once more she noticed that Regina had been crying too. Crying quietly as she held Emma through the agonising grief. Regina’s empathy isn’t often acknowledged, mostly because she doesn’t like other’s seeing her as weak. But in this light, she never looked so strong. And Emma needed that right now. The urge to seek an intimate connection grew stronger within her, the silence between them grew loud, and everything faded around Emma as her eyes faltered between Regina’s lips and her eyes. Regina’s gaze followed Emma as they moved in closer. Emma couldn’t hold back. Her lips pressed against Regina’s, lingering for a brief moment until Regina relaxed and reciprocated the affection.

Deepening the kiss, their mouths opened a little, taking turns to caress each other’s bottom lip. Their tongues delicately embracing yielded a hum from Regina, which only spurred Emma’s enthusiasm. But before Emma had the chance to take this further, Regina shook her head against Emma’s lips and stopped the kiss.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let that happen.”

“No I’m sorry, I mean… I…”

“Shushhh it’s okay. I understand. When you lose someone it’s natural to seek the connection that you’re missing from them in someone else.”

Emma bowed her head and averted her gaze, but Regina’s hand found her chin and gently guided her back to face her and face the truth.

“You’ve done nothing wrong here, you understand?” Regina paused waiting for Emma’s confirmation, and reluctantly Emma nodded. “This is not a rejection. This is me protecting you from yourself right now.”

Emma sighed, and nodded before accepting what Regina was saying. And she had to admire her for looking out for her, yet she was confused as to why Regina reciprocated the kiss initially, especially as she’s with Robin. What does it mean? In any case, Emma couldn’t stay there in the Underworld and figure this out with Regina. They had to go home to Storybrooke.

“Thank you.” Emma eventually said. “And I’m sorry I kissed you.”

“Don’t be sorry. Like I said, it’s natural to seek connection in others after losing connection with someone else. It doesn’t have to mean anything. It’s just part of the confusion grieving can do to someone. Now, are you feeling ready to leave?”

Emma looked back to the elevator door where she’d left Killian, then back to Regina and nodded. As Emma rose to her feet she offered Regina a hand and Regina took her offer, clasping Emma’s hand as she got up from the floor.

Noticing the mess of her lapel, Regina glanced back at Emma, with an arched brow. “I’ll send you the dry cleaning bill.” She sassed.

Emma knew that she didn’t mean that. It was just Regina’s way of putting her armour on, her Madam Mayor persona, to face the world again. As Regina headed for the door, Emma turned back once more to the elevator doors.

“Goodbye Killian.” She whispered, before turning to leave with Regina.

[waddingham]

was looking at some very old posts of mine and i just. when i finished s2 of ted lasso i was certain that a) ted would be going back to kansas and that b) ted and rebecca would not end up together on our screens. and i didn't have a problem with either of those things bc i was certain they'd be done with the same thoughtfulness that was present in s1 and most of s2. and i ended up being right about both things but so totally wrong about the execution of both??? yeah okay i hear you there was a three season arc, there was a plan, but wrt s3 you cannot convince me that plan consisted of anything that happened outside of "ted goes home". and even that decision felt shoved to the wayside.

i was dead certain that teds decision to go back was going to be informed by a deep exploration of ted and his past and his trauma and how the loss of his dad affects his own sense of fatherhood, that it was going to be ted's season entirely and would be as heart wrenching and uplifting as the rest of his story — so much so that by the time he decided he needed to go back, that we'd all be so on board. we'd all feel "oh of course he has to go back, look how much henry needs him and how much ted needs henry, how deep his fear of not being there for his son goes". why didn't we get that why did ted feel like a supporting character in his own show in his own SEASON why didn't the deeply traumatic event that informs almost all of ted as a character ever come up when it's so relevant to all of this why!!!! i need a 30 page essay from each of the ted lasso writers and a week long conference with js to explain it to me like im 5!!!!! am I stupid!!!

right anyway

when it comes to ted and rebecca i have less gripes but still am so baffled at the number of parallels drawn and connections made and support given to say "yes they're kind of intrinsically tied" for ZERO acknowledgement of it? which brings me back to the first point because that journey for ted could've leant itself so nicely to rebecca returning the kind of support to ted that he gave her? which in turn could've added a lovely extra layer to rebecca's story by seeing her find additional comfort and confidence in her own ability to support someone else and give love? it all could've woven together so neatly?? like??? am i stupid????? whether they ever hit the romance threshold or not (setting aside the fact of just how many and how often they tried to invoke rom coms but went "oh ew romance? no" when given a perfect opportunity to say something timeless but refreshing about second chance loves) continuing to see them grow together the way they had already accentuated through the whole rest of the show would've been more than enough for me personally. even if there was a heartbreaking parting it would've felt......earned? it would've felt right? just as fair to the viewer after absorbing all these things as it was to the story?

anyway......i feel like I'm missing something every time I think about it

[tailsbeth-writes]

💙(turquoise, I didn't see it) and/or 💛

I had way too much fun with this AU, maybe I'll come back to it in the future. Find it on Ao3 here 🩵

‘When I said bring me to your dungeon, I was talking about the sexy kind.’ Alex declares as he stops in the stairs. Henry’s in the doorway, Alex thinks he looks smaller than usual, like he’s hunching. It seems unnatural in comparison to his princely posture. Henry bites his lip, looks behind him into the room and then back to Alex. There’s hesitation, Alex wants to pull the words that are threatening to spill from Henry’s lips.

‘Maybe I’ll take you to the sex dungeon later…’ Henry lets out a shallow chuckle, before his tone turns darker.

‘But before I bring you in, you must promise to never speak of this to anyone. Not your sister or parents. Not even Nora, even if she tries to drag it out of you.’

Alex almost trips over a step, his body automatically backing away. His hand grips the railing tightly. He gulps and he swears he can see Henry watching his Adam's apple bob. Henry steps forward and offers his hand with a smile. Alex studies his eyes, there’s something there he doesn’t see very often outside of their sexcapades if he’s honest; excitement. Alex takes the final couple of steps and takes Henry’s hand.

‘Okay, I promise.’

‘Good, you’ll see why I asked in a moment. This way.’

Henry guides Alex through the doorway, it’s pitch black despite the light from the hallway. It’s like there’s something shielding it from getting through when he looks, there’s just a void of dark grey.

‘Just a moment, stand still.’

Henry drops Alex’s hand, and he instantly feels off balance. His breathing quickens, he focuses on the footsteps he prays are Henry’s.

‘You might want to close your eyes for a moment, it will help adjust you to the light.’

Henry’s voice echoes straight into Alex’s ears and he finds himself oddly soothed, as if someone put a blanket around his shoulders. He closes his eyes as instructed

‘And let there be light… Okay, you can open your eyes now.’

When Henry asked if he wanted to see something off the beaten track, less touristy, this is not where Alex saw them going. He opens his eyes to so much colour. The ceilings are draped with chiffon that somehow sparkles without Alex moving, the stone floor seems normal until Alex releases where his feet stand, the stones are in fact glowing. There’s shelves filled to the brim with books, are some of the titles… moving? Like text on a news ticker. On the other side of the long thin room is a wooden table with a camping stove and cabinets that look fit to burst. Alex peers through the glass panels to see jars of varying colours, some of which Alex wasn’t in a rush to find out about. At the end of the room there are targets with lots of tiny holes. Alex turns back to Henry whose shoulders are tensed up as he waits on Alex’s reaction.

‘So this was… this was, um… Yeah, I don’t have words.’

Henry’s eyes flash panic until Alex gives him a big goofy grin. He loosens up as he joins Alex by the table, his hands lean back on it.

‘Gran always thought my mum married beneath her. Dad was a low life actor, a peasant to her essentially. Funny thing is, it was my mum who was marrying into power that wasn’t even in Gran’s wildest daydreams.’

‘So I am connecting the dots right… We’re talking like magic powers? Or is this some elaborate scheme you and Percy have cooked up?’

Henry barks out a laugh which does things to Alex’s tummy. More than normal actually, it feels like he’s soaking in Henry’s happiness. He smiles at Henry, his eyes fluttering a moment. Henry straightens up.

‘Shit, I should have warned you about that. First of all, this isn’t a prank. My dad was a mage. And a rather powerful one at that. Secondly, this room works as an echo chamber for power and well, I seem to be rather gifted when it comes to emotions. At least other people’s emotions.’

Alex thinks of the feeling of calm he got before the lights came on, Henry was looking after him. He takes another spin, gazing around the room before he gathers Henry’s hands in his.

‘Thank you for showing me this, baby.’

‘Thank you for making me feel like I could. It’s been too long.’

They smile at each other and lean in for a chaste kiss. Alex giggles when they back out of it. Henry cocks an eyebrow at him.

‘Well if this is your regular dungeon, I can’t wait to see what the sex dungeon looks like!’

Alex breaks out into laughter, feeling like he’s somewhat high and Henry slaps his chest lightly while rolling his eyes.

‘Such a bloody rascal…’

[artistic-endchamber]

OC Profile -- Black Clover 🍀

[[ Grahhh I've had Giana For so long- I even have a blog for her!! But for whatever reason I've been putting this off for a while. So, Without further ado, My main Black Clover OC - Giana Silverstone's profile! ]]

Giana Silverstone

--

Basic Information

Giana Silverstone

Blood Type: O negative

Age: 16-18 (As the series goes on)

Birthplace & Current Residence: Clover Kingdom, and Clover Kingdom

Occupation: Magic Knight of the Golden Dawn

Affinity: Shadow Magic

Height: 165.1 cm (5'5)

DOB: November 20th

Sex, Gender Identity, and Sexuality: AFAB, Demi-Girl (She/They) , and Bisexual

Voice Claim: Kyouko Hori (From HoriMiya)

Her Grimoire is a stitched up rose cover book.

Giana also owns a pet rabbit named Loofy

Personality

Giana is a very sassy but sweet person.  She’s always quick to give snarky and absolutely hilarious remarks but she always stays loyal and helps out whenever she can. She is a hard worker, and will always push others up. However, she only lets those she is close with into her world.

Likes: Giana likes to read, study, train, and Draw. She likes her personal space and lots of Peace and quiet. When she’s feeling anxious, she likes to hold her pet rabbit for comfort.

Dislikes: She dislikes over dramatic people, and people who obsess over things and people they don’t even know about (AKA Yuno’s fanclub). She’s also scared of change, due to her adjustment disorder.

Appearance

At the start of the series, Giana has Long, Red hair. Soon after meeting and having a critical moment with Yuno, she decides to make a drastic decision and cut her hair off.

Short, and fluffy red hair that is styled into a wolf cut when Giana actually puts the effort into looking good.

Weight: 132 lbs

Height: 165.1 cm (5'5)

She has an athletic build to some extent, but also a little more on the pear body-type.

Hazel-brown eyes and a pale skin tone, leading to her Nose and ears being visibly red whenever the situation calls for it.

She wears a half-black and half-white dress underneath her Golden Dawn robe, and pairs it with her half-black and half-white combat boots.

Modifications to her Body: She has a septum piercing that she did herself when she was younger (Brave, I know), and her right ear also has the upper chunk dangerously bitten off. (Lore, am I right!)

Skills

Her Speed level Is off the charts, and it grants her brain the ability to think fast and adapt. When her severe adjustment disorder doesn't get in the way, she's able to be quick about the changes she makes to her plans. She's also very agile and skilled in Hand-to-hand combat, and has the ability to hold her own in a fight even without magic. Her witty and adaptive skills are what caused Captain Vangeance to give her the task of creating the mission plans for the golden dawn before she was put on Yuno's dispatch team. 

— 

Background

Giana Silverstone is a noble born to house Silverstone. Her family derives off of the Silvas so she has many connections to the main 3 families of Royalty in the Clover Kingdom. Giana was the youngest of the main  Silverstone family — which consisted of Adeline Silverstone, (The mother); Henry Silverstone, (The father); Mary Silverstone, (The eldest heir and daughter); and Giana. 

Everyone in Gianas family is known for possessing purely Elemental abilities at heart. Her father possessed Water Magic, and her mother possessed Ice Magic. Even her sister, Mary, possessed snow magic — So it was a humongous shock to find that not only did Gianas grimoire not have a 3 leaf clover on it.. but she also discovered that she had shadow magic. 

Rumors spread like wildfire, people began accusing Gianas mother of cheating and so on; Giana was forbidden from playing with her sister (who was drastically deemed as a prodigy for getting into the Magic knights at an early age) and interacting with the outside world. She became a beacon of terror; as her parents decided to make her a black sheep to protect their own dignity. They claimed she was a curse, a gift from the devil and forsaken due to her disgusting shadow magic. 

Giana was resented and treated like trash. They would run her through tests and training and torment her to “rid her of the devil”, and one of these sessions was what led to her right ear being bitten off. 

Giana never ran away; but took the magic Knight test on her own, and a year earlier than most people, just to join the golden dawn and get away from the horrible persona her family had created for her. At this point, Giana had already grown her hair out to atleast live up to her parents’ expectations on her looks. 

Giana goes years without using her magic unless she’s instructed to but doctors and scientists, hoping that people wouldn’t resent her if they didn’t know. This leads to her hating to be put on missions, and resenting her own magic enough to not know much about it at all. 

After a fateful encounter with Yuno on a mission, where he yells at her mid-battle about how she’s “wasting her magic” and that “there are people with no magic out there” she begins to change drastically. And because of this, Yuno is the first person she trusts, one of the people she bears her heart and soul to.

—

Spells

offensive spells -

 Shadow control magic: Poisoned Shadow latch

Giana uses her shadow magic to hook onto her opponents’ shadow, and control them. This is usually a last resort as it takes up much mana. 

Shadow Creation Magic: Aucillia’s Bo Staff 

Giana forms a Bo staff (Monk Staff) out of her shadow magic and uses it to fight. This staff can extend into tentacles on either side, and can also morph into a Scythe.

Shadow Spirit Magic: Aucillias Bow and Arrow

Giana Uses her spirit dive (Merging with her Shadow spirit, Inei) and in that form has enough mana to create a bow and never ending arrows to supply it. These arrows have the ability to drain mana from their target. 

defensive spells -

Shadow protection magic: Protective shadow dome

Encovers ither a chosen person or a chosen area in a shadow dome ; with an adjustability of how thick the shadow mist is around the user. It can be used as a force field, or as a confusion factor for anyone who enters. 

healing spell -

 Shadow Magic: Mana restoring shadow cells

Infuses some of Gianas mana into a different person to heal their body by creating shadow clones of cells and helping them perform Mitosis faster.

binding spell - 

Shadow binding magic: Binding tentacles 

Giana uses her shadow magic to create tentacles and pull at her far away targets; she usually pairs this with a punch LMFAO

Mana Zone - 

Mana zone: Aucillias Graveyard 

The field gets shrouded in mana draining Shadow mist, that makes Gianas opponent delirious. It’s is also a depiction of a haunted graveyard filled with many flowers.

~~

OTHER REFERENCES!

~

^ Above Art Made by @sketchist-art & @Yukiblob !!

[amournoir]

ok first, i just wanna say i absolutely love your writing and i'm so excited for you to write henry characters! second, is it okay if i request a fluff prompt for #8d and #8e for Napoleon Solo?

i'm sorry for asking for 2 of them 🙈 xx

Fluff Prompt | N.S {request}

℘ prompt — neck kiss (#8d) / shoulder kiss (#8e)

℘ warning — none, just fluff

℘ pairing — napoleon solo x f!reader

℘ count — 1.1k

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow through the open concept living room and kitchen, Y/N sat at the counter, her eyes fixed on Napoleon Solo, her charming and dashing boyfriend, as he gracefully moved around the kitchen, preparing a delightful dinner for the two of them. Napoleon's culinary skills were as impressive as his spy tactics, and watching him chop vegetables and sauté ingredients filled Y/N's heart with both admiration and affection. The aroma of the sizzling food enveloped the room, teasing her senses and making her stomach growl with anticipation.

With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Napoleon took a spoonful of the simmering sauce and walked over to where Y/N was seated. "Care to taste and give your approval, my love?" he asked, extending the spoon towards her.

Y/N gladly obliged, her lips parting to let the rich flavors dance on her tongue. She nodded approvingly, a contented smile forming on her lips. "Mmm, it's perfect," she praised, earning a pleased grin from Napoleon.

"Excellent," he replied, leaning in to place a gentle kiss on her cheek. "I aim to please."

But Napoleon wasn't satisfied with just a kiss on her cheek. As he retreated to the kitchen, he couldn't resist the temptation to return to Y/N's side. He sauntered back into the living room, his eyes never leaving hers, and without a word, he extended his hand, inviting her to stand with him.

Intrigued and excited, Y/N rose from her seat, slipping her hand into Napoleon's. With the soft melody playing in the background, he pulled her close, and they swayed to the rhythm of their hearts. His hand rested on the small of her back, guiding her movements with effortless grace.

The world outside seemed to fade away as they danced, locked in each other's gaze. Napoleon's touch was electrifying, sending tingles down her spine, and Y/N found herself melting into his embrace. As their bodies pressed closer, she felt his warm breath on her neck, and a shiver ran through her.

He couldn't resist trailing soft kisses along her neck and shoulder, and Y/N couldn't suppress the soft gasps that escaped her lips. The intimacy of the moment heightened, their hearts beating in unison. Napoleon's lips found hers, gentle yet passionate, and they shared a lingering kiss that spoke of their deep connection.

Their slow dance turned into a dance of passion, the flames of desire slowly igniting between them. But this was more than just physical attraction; it was the intensity of their love and the trust they had in each other that made every touch and every kiss meaningful.

As they swayed to the music, their souls seemed to merge, and the world felt like a whirlwind of emotions. Y/N could feel Napoleon's love for her in every caress, every whisper, and every stolen glance. It was a love that made her heart soar and brought tears of joy to her eyes. They moved as one, perfectly attuned to each other's desires and needs. The steamy atmosphere filled with their shared affection, yet they moved with an unspoken understanding that there was no rush, no need to hurry. This moment was for them alone, to revel in their love and devotion.

Their bodies moved in perfect harmony, a seamless dance of love and affection. Napoleon's arms wrapped around Y/N's waist, holding her close, while her hands rested gently on his broad shoulders. Their steps were graceful, each movement deliberate yet effortless, as they swayed to the soft melody that filled the air.

Y/N's head rested on Napoleon's chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a comforting sound that made her feel secure and cherished. His lips brushed against her forehead, leaving a trail of tender kisses that made her heart flutter.

Their eyes locked, and in that gaze, they communicated without words, their love flowing between them like an unbreakable bond. As they danced, the world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them in their own intimate universe. The room seemed to fill with a warm glow, as if their love radiated like a beacon, enveloping them in a cocoon of affection.

Time seemed to stand still as they danced, lost in the moment and in each other. Each step they took was a testament to their commitment, their devotion, and their unwavering love. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the person in their arms, the one they held so close to their heart. Their love was a dance of tenderness, a symphony of emotions that left them breathless and filled with joy.

The world outside may have been filled with chaos, but in each other's arms, they found peace and serenity. Their dance was a celebration of their love story, a tale written in every movement, every touch, every stolen kiss. With every turn and every dip, they felt their souls intertwining, becoming one in their shared affection. They were lost in the sweetness of the moment, savoring the beauty of their love, as if time itself had granted them this moment of bliss.

Their dance was a testament to the depth of their connection, a dance of love that transcends all boundaries. It was a dance that spoke of a love that would endure any challenge, a love that would last for eternity.

As the song came to an end, they held each other close, unwilling to break the spell they had woven around them. Their hearts beat as one, their breaths mingled, and they knew that in this dance, they had found their forever. In the arms of the one they loved, they found home. And as they gazed into each other's eyes, they knew that every step they took together would be a dance of love, a dance that they would cherish for the rest of their lives.

As the last musical note rang out through the room, Napoleon dipped Y/N slightly, and their eyes locked once more. "I love you," he whispered, his voice tender and sincere.

"I love you Leon," she replied, her voice filled with adoration.

With a smile that could rival the stars, Napoleon lifted Y/N back up and held her close, their foreheads touching. They knew that this dance was just one of many they would share in their journey together, a journey of love, trust, and passion that knew no bounds.

In each other's arms, they found solace and strength, knowing that as long as they had each other, they could conquer any mission life threw their way. And in this intimate moment, they felt more invincible than any spy mission could ever make them feel.

As the night continued to unfold, they savored their dinner together, basking in the warmth of their love and the knowledge that in each other, they had found their home, their safe haven in the chaos of the world. And so, in the tender embrace of each other, they embraced the beauty of the present, cherishing the love that made every moment a masterpiece.

🏷️ taglist:

⤷ @mrs-maximoff-kenner @thatfanficstuff @elijahmikaelsontrash @mxacegrey @thatfictionalwh0re @catmikaelson20 @loverswillowed @sweetwrathoflilith @panic-at-the-fiction @iiskittles16ii @original-siphon @onlyfreds @onlyfredslibrary @imgoingtofreakoutnow @slinthoex @mikaelsonsdeservedbetter @i-love-nora @multiversediaries @decoffinated-vamps @hopester08 @aloneatpeace @hopes-wife @dreamingwithrafe @softcoremaybank @klaustopia  @sweetestdesire @cottontears @cottonreads @buckysbabydoll-x

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[adanseying]

Was looking up every mention of Aurora in the books for the char study piece I want to write about her and my jaw dropped here because I had been misremembering that “She was the only person who he could not dazzle, and he loved her for it.” line as being a Bluesey quote when it’s about Niall and Aurora… yikes @ myself. But really when you isolate just that line it is very romantic and fits the definition of romance we see for the other main couples. Bluesey Pynch and Jordeclan are all structured as 

character A (Gansey/Adam/Declan) who is a social masker and disconnected from the ‘real them’ to some degree in a lot of interactions with the world around them x character B (Blue/Ronan/Jordan) who in Blue/Ronan’s case especially is very authentic and blunt and fearlessly themselves, that’s a little more complicated with Jordan who also has to perform as a version of Hennessy and then kind of find herself outside of that at the same time she starts her relationship with Declan, but she’s imaginative and creative the way Blue and in a less artistic way Ronan are and that proves an “authentic” contrast in a similar way, and she’s a helpful relationship for Declan in some of the same ways as Bluesey/Pynch.

 So understanding that’s a notion and type of dynamic this verse generally paints as romantic, Niall and Aurora’s relationship being a warped take on the formula is pretty interesting! Niall wants to be with someone who sees the truth of him and wants the truth of him, which was Mor who is also too complicated and sharp-edged for him to understand or to give him the type of love he wants, so he has to craft someone both much sweeter who is a more conventional housewife for him, but she couldn’t be someone who agreed with him 100% of the time because she had to be fundamentally different from him and also provide him with the faintest, most easily controlled glimmer of what he liked about Mor’s challenging nature, without any danger of her actually leaving or overpowering him. So Aurora can contradict him or call him out when she says he’s lying about the way Ronan was born, but she can’t truly Challenge him there’s a difference. I do get the sense from the way the brothers talk about her and the few flashbacks to her in that time she was more dynamic and complex pre Niall’s death than the Aurora we meet in trc present, which makes sense based on the mythology, and I don’t see a reason for her to not have an individual personality the same way Mathew and Jordan do although it would still be comparatively muted by her role. 

But basically, Niall wanting the same thing Gansey/Adam/Declan do but not being willing to actually build a recirprocal connection with someone with autonomy and offer them support too. There’s no Gansey comforting Blue after Persephone passes or Bluesey connecting over their similarly curious natures and wants and strange-loving relationship with Henrietta, and also none of their arguments which are honestly quite integral. If Niall’s… well does Niall have friends probably not, but theoretically if he had a male friend who made a comment like Henry’s very unfortunate r*pe joke in BLLB Aurora’s wouldn’t take Niall to task for putting her in that situation at all she would probably just smile along… None of Adam and Ronan’s conflicts or their viewing each other as equals would be able to occur same for Jordeclan.

I feel like seeing how that desire to have someone unconditionally understand you can be warped to the point of not respecting your partners agency or seeing them as a person outside of what they provide you really puts the main relationships into perspective for how they’re different, is what I meant to say. That’s not to say they’re without flaws (and they would be boring if they were), and I think some of the notion that perfect understanding is possible is one I would have liked to see questioned a little more than it is in canon, because I think these relationships provide the chars with types of understanding they crave and Might know them better than anyone else, but that doesn’t mean said understanding is absolute. As much as I love Bluesey I do think it’s fair to point out there’s sometimes a gap between how much Blue is encouraged by the narrative to understand Gansey and how much he has to reciprocate because of some misogyny and classism in the narrative, so there’s that. Or rather I’d say he reciprocates the understanding but less so when it comes to gendered conflicts. I think the ideal version of the Pynch arc in TD3 would be that it’s meant to challenge the notion we should rely on one person / our partner to always understand us fully by making it clear how terrible their communication has become and the gaps in their understanding related to their contrasting life goals and desires. It would actually be a really fascinating thing to deconstruct with them and if it had panned out I think that storyline could’ve been something truly special, but then either because of an audience feedback loop or just Maggie getting cold feat about some concepts, there’s a major backtracking to actually-love-solves-everything, Like, in isolation Adam telling Ronan that he’s the only Real thing in his life at this point and that’s worth too much to let go of is really romantic …. but then if you truly think about everything in the text around it and where Adam is at this point, and your reading a tad more cynically, you could also say that it reads less as high romance and more as a sunk cost fallac- but I digress the point was that Aurora & Niall’s relationship functioning as a mirror to these protagonist relationships is interesting, and there’s more to be said about the Mor&Niall/Adam&Ronan parallel and how it intersects with the comparison but I don’t have the energy.

(Also worth noting that while comparatives exist the m/m relationship is obviously never going to operate under the same gendered lines as the m/f romances and so any of those comparisons would be imperfect). 

TL;DR Niall and Aurora’s romance is a warped mirror of the protagonists (Bluesey Pynch Jordeclan) romantic dynamics in that they show how a relationship built on a similar dynamic premise of desire to be understood could be horrifying if one stops respecting the other party as an autonomous being outside of the understanding they offer them.

[heartlandians]

Filling Empty Spaces (Amy/Mitch), part 233

Mitch and Amy find an unexpected connection due to absent lovers. Set around season 11->.

A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this story, so hopefully there won’t be too many grammar errors. CW: Mentions of self-harm/suicide

****

When Mitch opened his front door few hours later and saw his father, Garrett Cutty, on his porch, holding a leather duffel bag, the first thing he thought was how much older he somehow looked. Like the life had shaved off few years from his life since they had last seen each other.

The man, who his mother had always called "young Henry Fonda" lookswise, appeared thinner and had few more wrinkles than what Mitch had recalled. Still, the luscious dark brown locks that had always been something people said he shared with Mitch were still pushing out under the old, worn-out cowboy hat he had on, and none of them had turned gray so far.

Mitch wasn't sure if it was just the fact that they didn't really see each other much these days or just the doom and gloom of the day, but looking at his old man made the younger cowboy realize that his dad was showing clear signs of age and those were a reminder he wasn't going to be around forever.

"What's that?" was the first thing his dad asked when Mitch was about to greet him and thank him for coming.

Mitch's eyes followed the direction of his father's gaze and noticed a pile of bricks on the side of the house, waiting for him to get started on a project.

"Oh, that's supposed to be an outdoor firepit, but... it's still under construction", he explained, feeling like despite all the progress he had made with renovating the place, he had fallen behind with everything he was hoping to do with it.

"Right", the older man rumbled thoughtfully, perhaps even a little bit judgmentally, and then turned his eyes toward Mitch. "Well, are you going to invite me in?"

"Of course. Come on in", Mitch said, moving aside from the doorway. "I didn't have a chance to say anything yet, with you opening your mouth right away, but I was going to thank you for coming", he added when Garrett walked in and took in the place.

"Well, it's about time that you invite me or your mother over. You've been living here for a while now, haven't you?" the man asked and put down his bag when he had entered the mudroom.

Mitch scratched his neck and sighed quietly.

"I've been meaning to invite you two eventually, but... I wanted to get things ready before that. Like the ramp outside", Mitch explained and closed the door. "I just finished that few days ago."

"Yeah. I did notice that", Garrett admitted, giving him some credit, and then handed him his cowboy hat. "Look what I found!" he showed the hat proudly.

Mitch smiled a little bit. He remembered that hat even though he had not seen it in a while.

"Your old hat."

"Yup. Haven't had much use for it in the city, but figured now that I'm visiting Hudson, might as well wear it", he explained when Mitch hung it on the wall. "Oh, and before I forget; your mother sends her best. She was sad she wasn't able to come but she has a trip with her choir, starting tomorrow morning, so she stayed behind. They're performing at Camrose. -- Your invite kind of came last minute, after all, so you can't blame her for not changing her plans..."

"Well, yeah..." Mitch responded.

He had extended his invitation only for his dad, but then again he had used the word "you", which meant his father had taken it as "you and mom" instead of "you" as in "you only".

Then again, things had worked out in the end, so there had been no harm done.

"Maybe next time then", he added.

"Yeah. So... show me around", his dad urged by snapping his fingers, and Mitch grabbed his bag from the floor and started his house tour - even though there wasn't much to see.

"Here's the kitchen..." he gestured as they exited the mudroom.

The kitchen looked like any other country kitchen, but the highlight of it was the fireplace that immediately caught everyone's attention.

"The fireplace is between the kitchen and the living room so when the fire is on, you can enjoy it from both spaces", he explained. "Down here... toilet and the bedroom", he shared, showing two doorways.

One of the doors was closed and the other door, that revealed a little bit of the bedroom behind it, was ajar.

"I figured you get the bed and I can sleep on the couch. I already changed the sheets and all."

Garrett scoffed. "Non-sense. I can sleep on the couch just fine. It's a sleeper couch, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, it is", Mitch nodded, then looking around to see if there was anything he had missed. "Well... anyway, that was about it. I can show you the outdoors tomorrow during the daylight. The horses too", he said, looking a little lost in his own space. He didn't really entertain guests and it showed.

"How many horses you got? I thought you only had Maverick."

"Maverick and another one, Whisky. But Maverick's my main working horse."

Garrett nodded slowly, examining the details of the house. "And you live here alone?"

Mitch thought about Lou's words in the car and how "living with horses wasn't equal to living with another person", so he kept that in mind now.

"Yeah. Just me."

"Huh..." his father let out and it sounded loaded with meaning. "Have to say, when you let us know you had bought a house, your mother and I thought maybe you had finally found a girl and you were settling down", Garrett admitted, walking closer to one of the shelves where Mitch kept few pictures in a frame.

Looking down, Mitch felt a lump in his throat.

Maybe if things were different, he could have told about Amy, like how he was actually seeing someone but he was still waiting to see where it would go before any big steps (like talking about living arrangements), but now he felt like he had to hold off that information.

Then again, why had he invited his dad over in the first place if he couldn't be honest with him?

Just to keep him company or perhaps have someone to talk to too?

When Lou had suggested inviting his dad over, it had sounded like a good idea to him, but now Mitch found himself clamming up; like he wasn't ready to really reveal anything he was thinking at this moment.

So, what was the point of having his dad around again...?

"I mean, we reckoned there had to be some reason why you didn't want to take over Saddle Road back when we downsized but you have a small farm house now", his dad added, poking a sore spot of Mitch's mind without him probably knowing. "Meeting someone would have explained it."

"Are you hungry?" Mitch asked, changing the subject. "I could fix us a late supper, if you want."

"Sure, I could eat something", Garrett said, focusing on the pictures as he saw familiar faces in them.

He was oblivious to what Mitch was going through.

"Okay. I'll just leave this here and go wash my hands", Mitch said, putting down the bag next to the couch if his dad was going to sleep on it after all. "Make yourself at home."

****

While sitting down and eating the supper, it was getting more and more obvious to Mitch how estranged they had become with his father; Garrett tried to stir up conversation about sports, but since Mitch didn't watch anything else but cooking shows from TV - not that he even really had time to do that these days - that stream of discussion quickly dried up before it had even truly began.

The ticking of the clock on the wall and the low sounds of cutlery, as they were slicing the food on their plates, added to the awkwardness.

"So... I was thinking maybe tomorrow we could go for a trail ride", Mitch eventually suggested, "I mean, when was the last time you went riding?"

Garrett shook his head after forking food into his mouth.

"Oh, I don't know... Besides, I don't know if I can get up on a horse anymore, with my bad knees and all..."

"That's no excuse; Mom using a wheelchair didn't stop her from riding on your anniversary", Mitch reminded. "There are ways to get on a horse, even if your legs wouldn't work perfectly."

Garrett thought about it and sighed lightly.

"Okay, fine. We can give it a try then", he finally agreed, keeping his eyes on the food.

Mitch smiled, seeing a little hope for them still.

Nature, horses and ranch work had always been something they had bonded over when Mitch had been younger, so when that had been taken away due to the Cuttys selling their ranch, it was like a big part of Mitch's relationship with his dad had disappeared too and it had become harder for them to find ways to connect.

But now, Mitch had the opportunity to offer that for them again and he couldn't have been happier.

"Do you miss it? Ranch life, I mean", Mitch asked after a beat while chewing his food.

The atmosphere didn't feel as tense anymore because they weren't desperately trying to find something to talk about. For a while, it felt like old times; as if they were at home, gathered around the dinner table after chores and catching up.

There was a hint of bittersweet feelings in the air, though, because it had been such a long time since they had done something like this.

Garrett glanced at him, then bringing his eyes back on his plate as he was thinking what to eat next.

"Yeah, I miss it. But... it's complicated. I can't reminisce it too much", he said, shrugging.

"Why not?" Mitch asked. "Isn't thinking back to old happy memories a good thing?"

"Because... it can be hard to think back to those times sometimes; most of the memories are happy and good, yes, but... our last year at Saddle Road..." Garrett tried to explain and shook his head. "It was a different time for your mother and me. It wasn't the happy ending we envisioned for us."

Mitch nodded, sensing something more vulnerable in his father's voice.

He had always found his father to be very practical when it came to emotional situations, and the older he himself had gotten, he had always thought how much he wished to be like that.

But it looked like maybe that had been an illusion - to some degree, at least - to keep them all going.

There was no recollection in his mind about this type of emotional response when they had had to sell Saddle Road. Sure, his father had been bummed, but mostly Mitch remembered a man with a plan, and that was what they had all leaned on while feeling grateful that there was at least someone who knew what to do.

"Have you found happiness in the city?" Mitch was curious to know.

"I'm happy with your mom", Garrett announced in a way that he expected to cover all fronts. "That's all that matters. Wherever she is, that's my home."

Mitch hummed, nodding thoughtfully.

They had never really talked about that time, and he wasn't sure how much more his father wanted to dive in now either. Based on the things he said - or didn't say, more like - not much, probably.

"I know this isn't the same as Saddle Road", Mitch began, "but you have this place to come now. It's just me here, but I am hoping that this could become a place for people to come to and enjoy the nature and... well, just farm life. A place to... breathe. Like a safe harbour."

"Can I just ask..." Garrett took over, not really sounding like he was expecting Mitch to actually give a permission, "why this place? Why not Saddle Road? The place had been in my family for generations. You have no connection to... this", he gestured around them, sounding bitter. "Saddle Road could have been a safe harbour too. Because it already was - for us."

Mitch looked down, sighing.

He knew that even though time had gone on and things were now done and dusted, it sounded like this was something that probably still needed going over with.

In the past, he probably would have turned away from the conversation, but through therapy he had found that the sooner he faced the uncomfortable things, the better.

It had been years since this had been topical, so the best time to have this conversation had already passed, but the next best time for that was now.

"I get it, you're angry at me--"

"No, I'm not angry at you", Garrett corrected, "I'm just... disappointed."

"Okay, disappointed then", Mitch took that into consideration, even though it didn't make much difference to him as he had let his family down anyway, but it sounded like it was important distinction for his dad. "I wish I could have taken over the ranch when you asked. I do. And I agree; it would have been a perfect safe harbour. But... back then, I wasn't in the right head space to do that. It would have been too much to run that kind of... operation."

Garrett listened, looking at his son. His eyes welled up a little.

"I have thought about that a lot, you know, what could have been if I had taken over. As a matter of fact... I even felt guilty buying this place, because-- I don't know, I just felt like I let you down. Like I don't deserve to own a place after I blew you off", Mitch explained.

There it was; probably the biggest reason why he had been afraid of inviting his parents over, even though deep down he had always had the intention to.

Inviting them over would have meant having to face that disappointment.

But that was what he was doing right now.

The situation with Amy and him needing other people for support through that, had forced Mitch to reach out to his dad who had once upon a time been his biggest guardian in life, and in order to revive that connection in this time of need, Mitch now had to own up to his past mistakes while also clearing some things up to his dad.

It sure was a weird, tangled web of emotions, but they had to be faced.

"But I think, looking back now, it's a good thing I didn't take over. I was messed up from what happened overseas... And then what happened with Zach, it... destroyed me. I needed time to think and find my way back to who I was. I didn't want to make any commitments because... things were just spinning out of my control. I don't think I could have handled running a ranch on top of it", Mitch explained. "Saddle Road deserved better. And it has, but with someone else."

"Did you ever..." Garrett began, but hesitated.

Was this a question he wanted to know the answer to? Maybe he needed to in order to understand more.

"You never considered doing what Zach did, did you...?" he finished.

Mitch looked at his dad, surprised by the direct question, but at the same time it was no wonder if he had thought about that after losing his nephew and having his own son come back from a similar situation.

Even though Mitch knew the answer to the question, he paused because he did wonder why that was.

It could have been easy for him to at least think about it, even if he wouldn't have actually thought about following through.

But he never had, not that way, despite all the hard times.

"No", Mitch said, shaking his head, and allowing Garrett to breathe a little easier. "I never did."

"Good... Good..." Garrett murmured, sounding slightly emotional and relieved. It sounded like maybe he had held onto that fear for a long time and was now able to let it go.

"But... it wasn't easy, even if I wasn't... self-destructive. At least, not in "the traditional way" people think one might be. But I was in other ways. Ways I didn't pick up at the time, but I do now."

Mitch sighed, circling back to what they had actually talked about.

"So... I needed to make mistakes, broaden my horizons and learn from all of that before I could really understand who I was or... what my plan was", Mitch went on. "It was just a matter of right place at the wrong time. I know you would have probably felt happier if the ranch had been passed down to me, but... I wasn't the person for that then."

"I should have been more supportive with you", Garrett admitted his guilt with a sigh and trembling voice.

"No, it's fine. It's not why I'm telling you this", Mitch wanted to put a stop to it right away. "You had to look after mom. If anything, I should have been more supportive of you guys. But... I don't know... I just couldn't at the time. It was like-- I don't know. I just physically and emotionally couldn't. It was all too much."

Garrett nodded.

"Well... we still got here", he wanted them to focus on the positive.

It was like he was back to being his practical self.

"Yeah, we did. A little battered and bruised, but... we're still here", Mitch admitted, raising his beer bottle and his dad met it with his.

Garrett then took a sip and looked around as he leaned on the chair.

"Well, this house isn't bad", he wanted to clear out as if he was finally ready to give his first impressions after putting his pride aside. "It's small, but... it'll do. For now."

Mitch hummed.

For someone else, it could have sounded patronizing, but Mitch knew that after feeling disappointed in him for years when it came to this topic, it was high praise from Garrett Cutty.

If anything, it felt like his dad was seeing the same potential of this place as he did.

[the-demigod-project]

I fucked up that ask completely 💀 I was talking about the Empire and the Golden Federation. I used GSE because I thought the full name for the empire was “The Golden Sun Empire” as for the federation tbh I read your blog from beginning to present so the names were all jumbled in my mind with all the information I took in 😂.

So again what rumors have the Empire and the Golden Federation heard about MC at the beginning of the story ? (If they’ve heard any at all).

Hi Anon, thanks for taking the time to read the whole blog. And since I've got two other ask similar to this I've gone an turned my notes into a spoiler post. So it should answer any concerns for this going forward.

Spoiler below (Snippet from the first page of ch1 and before your first choice.) This spoiler connects into giving you an idea of how your story starts, when relating it to the the above question spoiler.

The stale air hangs heavy with the scent of antiseptic and ozone, a lingering ghost of the chaos that only hours ago ripped through the underground facility. Dust motes dance in the weak beams filtering through the shattered skylight above, illuminating the debris scattered across the concrete floor – twisted metal, shattered glass, and the faint crimson stain that marks where Morrisa’s ice clashed with the intruders’ unknown weaponry. Ace, his usually bright eyes clouded with exhaustion, sits hunched against a crumbling wall, meticulously cleaning a small, strangely ornate dagger. Morrisa, pale and shivering despite the summer heat leaking in, nervously clutches a hastily wrapped package.  You, stand near the entrance, your gaze fixed on the gaping hole in the reinforced steel door – the only exit from this ruined sanctuary.

Your crimson eyes, usually bright with curiosity, are narrowed in a thoughtful frown. The escape, orchestrated by the surprisingly resourceful Dr. Henry, was a blur of explosions, frantic sprints, and the chilling realization that the world outside these sterile walls is far more dangerous than you could have imagined. You remember the sterile, white walls of your cell, the endless battery of tests, the constant fear of unknown experiments, and then, the deafening alarm, the shouts, the chaos and Dr. Henry’s panicked whispers, urging you to escape.

Project Demi-God, the clandestine program that birthed you and your fellow demigods, is over. At least, that's what Dr. Henry implied. The whispers of its failure, its betrayal, hang in the air. You were never meant to see the sunlight, let alone face a world teetering on the brink of war. A world dominated by the Sun Empire and the Golden Federation, their legions of demigods a constant threat to the fragile peace maintained by a dwindling America armed with its atomic arsenal. But you are free. For now.

Morrisa’s quiet sobs break the tense silence. Ace glances at her, a flicker of worry crossing his face. Your power hums beneath your skin – the raw, untamed energy of lightning and blood, a terrifying force held in precarious balance by your will. You feel the weight of responsibility, a burden as heavy as the power coursing through your veins. You are a demigod, a weapon, a last hope perhaps. But you are also just nineteen years old, thrust into a world you barely understand.

[imaginemyreality03]

🚇💜 If you’re not willing to risk your heart for someone you know you’ll lose, what love do you have? 💜🚇

One Last Stop by Casey McQuiston

Read: March 13 -> March 15, 2024

BRA Score: 76/100

Favorite Quote: “…she got off the train and you led with kissing? God, you are the most useless bisexual I have ever met in my life.” - Myla, Pg 168

~~~~~~~~

Book Gist: August moves to NYC on her quest to find a place that fits, with no hope that this is the place. But 3 roommates, a job slinging pancakes, and a one girl on the subway later, she starts seeing things a little differently. Subway Girl, Jane, also happens to be the biggest challenge to her childhood detective skills, as she is trapped on the Q, outside of her time, the 1970’s. With the Q getting shut down for maintenance at the end of August, they only have a few months to figure out how to get Jane unstuck before she disappears, and August is determined to save her… even if that means sending the girl she’s starting to love back to the 70’s.

Tags: Sapphic, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Found Family, Racism, Homophobia, Modern Universe.

~~~~~~~~

Overall review:

Pre-Read:

I tried to read this book back in 2021, and I just couldn’t get into it, the pace and August’s character were not hitting right for me. But that was also before I came out myself, so knowing I am obsessed with Casey McQuiston, I decided to give it another go.

I liked it so much more this time around. I liked the roommates of 6F and the staff at Billy’s more than I liked August and Jane, but that’s fine.

Plot:

The story was a very fun premise and the way it all overlaps historically was just so well structured and revealed. I called a couple connections overall, which always makes me feel good, so bonus points.

Cast:

I love being able to sense hints of other stories in various works by the same author. August has definite ACD vibes, which I love for her. And I really want to see Jane’s reaction to Alex and Henry in the year of our lord (fictionally) 2021.

[colemonroe]

WHERE: A dive bar outside of Tonopah WITH: @taliah-tezel

Diana had always been the larger than life entertainer of the Monroe family. She had a way of connecting with people that only came around once in a lifetime. In the midst of grappling with all of her demons, she knew how to command a stage, how to ensnare an audience and sweep them up in quite the love affair with her before they even knew it was happening. Cole? Not so much. He avoided the spotlight like the plague and nowadays, he’d only be caught singing in the shower. But it hadn’t always been that way. Once upon a time, Diana had been able to talk him into singing with her, especially if she bribed him with chocolate cake, and so as a result, Cole had been on stage a handful a couple times. But that was then, before Diana’s untimely passing. Ever since then, he’d give some half-assed karaoke attempt every now and then, especially if he could prod another drunken Son into doing it with him, but he’d never truly sang. He’d kept that locked away, right along with nearly every other memory of Diana Monroe.

Except for tonight.

Whether it was the alcohol swimming through his veins at a dizzying rate or the thrill of a long overdue getaway with Taliah, Cole wasn’t sure, but he’d done something he hadn’t done in what felt like a lifetime tonight– he let it all out. Stepping onto that makeshift stage with a purposeful stride, he’d belted out his own Tennessee drawled rendition of Tim McGraw’s Real Good Man, owning the moment much like his mother would have had she stood in his place, without a care for how anyone might’ve glimpsed him and focused on losing himself in the music– and in the brown eyes of the woman he loved beyond measure. Was it good? He didn’t know, but he hardly cared when it left him feeling like this– free and connected to his mother even years after her passing. 

Making his way over the bar once the music stopped and the lights dropped, he grinned wide at the bartender as he shuffled a pair of shots Cole’s way, “One for you and for the lady,” he chuckled, reaching across the bartop just to clap Cole on the shoulder. Henry and his wife had run this bar for as long as he could remember– in their own way, they’d watched Cole grow up from a distance, making this night nostalgic for more reasons than one. Shots in hand, he slipped through the crowd, one destination in mind. 

Just as soon as he drew to a stop in front of her, Cole set the shots on the tabletop next to them and hooked an arm around her waist, hauling Taliah in for a kiss while the other hand lifted to cradle her cheek in his palm. Like always, he savored that contact, sliding the tip of his tongue along her bottom lip before catching it between his teeth. “On a scale of one to ten– how embarrassed are ya right now?” Cole laughed against her lips before leaning back and handing over her shot. “Be honest, babe,” he teased, rubbing his lips together in a tight line to fight off his wide grin as he lifted his own shot, gently clinking the small glass against hers in a mock toast, “I can take it.”

[phantomoftheorpheum]

A specific issue I had with season 2 (summer school) is the relationship between the liars. I understand that they all work and have individual lives. However, the pattern of them getting together once an episode at a big table to discuss what each other them has been up to highlights their lack of connection.

Why did Mouse pretend to be Bloody Rose without telling the girls first? Why did Imogen go to a cemetery with Dr. Sullivan without telling the girls first? Why do the liars not know that Noa was cheating on Shawn in juvie, then had him pay for Jen to get out of jail, then smashed his car?

The “after the fact” communication between all of them was so frustrating and repetitive.

It feels as though without all of the murder, the girls wouldn’t all be friends. This seems harsh but hear me out. Tabby and Imogen are actually close. That’s of course how they became bonded in the beginning, but their friendship with the other 3 doesn’t seem very deep. They comfort each other, support each other, and hype each other up during their “group meetings” but it comes across as a bit unauthentic to me at times. We never see them hang out just for fun or bonding over their non-murderous interests. I can’t imagine Noa and Faran hanging out on their own, or Mouse and Imogen. The only pairing that I can see doing that is Imogen and Tabby because they do!! The other girls just feel so separate. It was fine in the first season because Imogen and Tabby were already friends but I had hoped to see a closer friendship between all of them by now. It feels underdeveloped despite the fact that the friendship between these girls is supposed to be the heart of the show.

I hear you on this!

I think they need to focus on having 2 or 3 of the girls hanging out in various scenes for various reasons next season. I thought they tried to get the group together a little more for non murder reasons (like having the film screening for Tabby, visiting Imogen at work, Mouse's surprise birthday party, making Tabby's short film, etc.) than in season 1, but the individual connections (outside of Tabby and Imogen) do feel lacking. The rest of them never get to hang out or bond 1 on 1 and just talk about stuff in their lives, their love interests, etc.

I think the closeness of these relationships is a casualty of the format (only 8 eps), but that doesn't mean it can't be better. Imo, cut some of the love interests screen time and spend time building the friendships between the girls in more 1 on 1 pairings. Like... imagine if Noa and Shawn broke up between seasons & Jen was a very bg storyline and Faran and Henry broke up early in the season & she didn't have a thing with Greg, and instead we got a lot of Noa and Faran hanging out?

This could even play into Mouse's insecurity around her birthday, because Tabby & Imogen are so close, and Faran & Noa are hanging out a lot this summer, and Mouse (while she has the best romantic relationship) feels like maybe she's not important to their group.

Then have one of the other girls (literally any of them, I'd have to think about it to decide who I think works best) realize and take on a more "big sister" kind of role in Mouse's life, because she genuinely does feel the youngest and I think that would work.

Give some of the girls common interests, so we can get scenes of them doing those things together, while moving the plot forward. Like maybe instead of Noa running with Shawn this season, she's running with Faran (who is really in to all things fitness). Maybe Mouse becoming obsessed with SpookySpaghetti gets her interested in horror films (instead of her saying she doesn't like them??) and she and Tabby start bonding more over that, with Mouse getting into the genre and Tabby giving her recommendations and them watching stuff together that the other girls are like "no, thanks."

I think it's good to keep the girl's individuality. I'm not saying that Mouse should suddenly want to be a filmmaker like Tabby, or that Faran has to join the track team, or anything. I just think there's ways to get them involved in each other's interests that makes sense, and would make the individual connections feel stronger.

And, personally, I think to do that, they need to sacrifice some of the love interest screen time. I'm not saying no love interests. I would have kept Christian this season for sure, he's a great red herring and this season being Tabby-centric means her having a love interest seems fitting and keeps more potentially suspicious characters around her, and I would have kept Ash (and maybe have him hang out with the group more. I know they want scenes of JUST the girls sometimes, but they all like/trust him, I just think he should be around more). I like Johnny as a character, and maybe you could still fit him in and have those other scenes, since he had the least amount of screen time of the new love interests (I think), but I wouldn't be totally opposed to not having his character in season 2 (or having him strictly be the guy that Imogen is flirting with at work & maybe he gets a bigger role in season 3 if there is one) if it means more bonding time for the girls. And yeah, I would 100% absolutely have cut the love triangle. Cut Henry, have him and Faran break up early in the season over the dance thing. Cut Shawn. Say he and Noa broke up in the 6 months between the seasons. You can still bring Jen in! Just without the love triangle so that whole romantic arc doesn't take that much time. She can still be a suspicious character with her stealing & lying & mysterious past. Keep Greg around for Faran's individual arc about inner/outer strength and her confidence at the pool, but make him more background and use his limited screen time to set up a redemption arc for his character next season (and even his crush on Faran, if you want) and don't waste time trying to get her to a place where she likes him back this season. Then you have time for more stuff with the girls in pairs or trios!

Anyway, I see what you see!

[blimbo-buddy]

You know what?

I'm actually happy that Henry was mentioned in passing and never brought up again. He deserves to be obscure and not because I don't like him. I actually do love him to bites and wish he and Purdy met.

I am happy he's never brought up because this series is an absolute train-wreck and we were taught to hate kittypets and dislike anyone from the outside and love the clans despite glaring flaws.

Also, despite the clans being treated like a community, so many cats in the clans are like strangers to each other and don't have any form of connection and it's weird because they're all trying to survive and it's like, "Oh hey! You met Vineslash yet?" and they're all like, "Oh them uhh.. never talked to him outside of patrols and stuff."

Like I get it but also don't get it?

Also, I'm so excited to see Henry again from your sneak peek art!!!

I love your art and you give justice to the deserving and it's so goood!!!

Yeah I get that, as much as I would have loved more Henry stuff, I know that they'd only use him for more fatphobia. But it's funny you mention him and Purdy because I headcanon that they're brothers, Henry is the eldest brother and Purdy is the youngest brother. Not from the same litter though.

It's definitely odd that while they're viewed and treated as a community, they barely know each other. This is a fault of the writers of course, remember how much the deaths of characters impacted everybody in Arc 1 compared to TBC, remember how devastated FireHeart was when he sat next to a dying YellowFang and spent her last dying moments sitting by her and talking? You do? Good, now remember when RosePetal died and BristleFrost was just like "Oh no, RosePetal!" and didn't go beyond that. Do you notice the whiplash between the two comparisons? The Erins never write any meaningful relationships anymore and we're reminded of that anytime a character dies.

And it's so funny because when we see more into Twolegplace, they feel like more of a community than the clans do, cats actually know each other, they have pasts with each other, cats have reputations good or bad. Even with Warriorclan, you feel that great sense of community. Bone actually knew Boulder beforehand, most cats still knew about each other in Bloodclan. It's ironic that the biggest senses of community we get in Warriors are from groups of cats that are both not even real clans and have either brief appearances (Warriorclan) or an entirely antagonistic role in whatever story the Erins want to write (Bloodclan). The Twolegplaces we briefly see have more community than the clans ever had, which is sad because the entire series centers around the clans.

Also thank you so much! Henry is a major insignificant favorite of mine and I wanted so badly to integrate him into PineStar's Choice. I wish that book was a SE instead of a Novella because I would have loved to see more stuff in Chelford, we could have gotten a Henry appearance, we were robbed. Henry and Pine have a close bond with each other in the rewrite, and it's funny because it started out not the best. Basically, PinePaw scented a Kittypet and when he found the source of the scent, it was Henry who had caught a robin. PinePaw was furious and chased him out of the forest. Later on they meet again and Henry goes "Oh wait, I know you! You chased me out of the forest over a robin, haha!" and PinePaw's sitting there sweating nervously. Henry apologizes for taking the clan's food because he didn't realize it wasn't good to do that but PinePaw splutters out that Henry shouldn't be apologizing, and he says sorry to Henry. PinePaw, well, to say the least, feels really bad about that whole thing. But they grow closer nonetheless! If making art of insignificant Kittypets was a job I'd be rich, thank you so much again dude, I appreciate it!

[lionsdenbooks]

i have mixed opinions on turn of the screw

The Turn of the Screw is an 1898 Gothic horror novella written by lauded American-British novelist Henry James. It concerns a governess who becomes caretaker to two children, Miles and Flora, and grows convinced they are being haunted by the spirits of former staff, Peter Quint and his lover Miss Jessel. It got a loose adaptation in 2020 in the form of the series The Haunting of Bly Manor, which I've heard was reasonably good.

Screw begins with the frame of a narrator gathering around a fire with friends to hear this story, presented as the account of the late governess, a "manuscript in old faded ink and in the most beautiful hand." The tale is talked up as dreadful and terrifying, which doesn't prevent one guest from asking, "And what did the former governess die of? Of so much respectability?" The severity of this cut only becomes clear after suffering through a hundred-odd pages of "her" writing, but I assure you it's deep.

Like in The Castle of Otranto, another seminal work of gothic horror fiction, James seems here to have adopted an intentionally antiquated/distinguished style of narration to give the work an air of age. (Mysteries of Udolpho is explicitly referenced in the story.) As soon as the governess' tale begins, the style immediately gains the ability to induce headaches at twenty feet verbosity and sentence length.

But it was a comfort that there could be no uneasiness in a connection with anything so beatific as the radiant image of my little girl, the vision of whose angelic beauty had probably more than anything else to do with the restlessness that, before morning, made me several times rise and wander about my room to take in the whole picture and prospect; to watch from my open window the faint summer dawn, to look at such stretches of the rest of the house as I could catch, and to listen, while in the fading dusk the first birds began to twitter, for the possible recurrence of a sound or two, less natural and not without but within, that I had fancied I heard.

This work made it clear to me that James lacked familiarity with periods in both senses.

Sentences like that are not isolated incidents, unfortunately. In them, James will often deploy needlessly baroque language.

We met, after I had brought home little Miles, more intimately than ever on the ground of my stupefaction, my general emotion: so monstrous was I then ready to pronounce it that such a child as had now been revealed to me should be under an interdict.

Look, it's not that I'm unable to read this; it's that, over the course of an entire novella, it feels like contortions on the part of the writer to try and force a certain style, which was annoying.

To James' credit, the novel demonstrates a certain level of pacing and tension. The first apparition, the likeness of a man the governess later learns is called Peter Quint, she first sees atop the estate's battlements, then staring at her through a window. This is a clear escalation (in proximity)—in fact, as the second appearance is happening, the governess comments on his "nearness...that represented a forward stride in our intercourse." After he disappears, she goes outside and investigates, and the housekeeper, Mrs. Grose, is terrified by the sight of her in turn through the window, causing the chapter to end with the governess musing ominously, "But there's only one [thing] I should take space to mention. I wondered why she should be scared." This is strong horror writing. The governess' fear is vividly described; an intriguing paranormal mystery is set up—she later points out to Grose that she had no way of knowing what Quint looked like, or even that he existed, but the apparition had his likeness—and there is a clear escalation in stakes in the ghost coming closer. So far, so good.

Where the book frustrates me is that, in my estimation, the book largely loses its momentum after these appearances. There are more apparition-scenes, which are uniformly written well, but in between these bouts of interest, the book devotes an inordinate amount of its space to describing the most mundane possible interactions between the governess and Miles and Flora, both of whom are excruciating in their bland sweetness (for most of the book, anyway). This is an issue because the central conflict of the story is ostensibly the governess trying to prevent them from being corrupted by the ghosts of Quint and Jessel. Miles demonstrates a sort of canny intelligence that threatens to be interesting, but it comes late in the story and presents to me more as precociousness than sinister possession. In any case, neither of the children seems to "progress" in their "condition" the way the apparitions progress in their appearances, so the threat of their being taken over by the ghosts is largely theoretical.

The one exception to this criticism is the final scene, which was actually quite engaging to read. In it, the governess is alone with Miles, and her paranoia over Quint and Jessel reaches a fever pitch. Miles is more confrontational than he has been the rest of the book, and so his cleverness has actual teeth, as it were. "For of course if we're alone together now it's you that are alone most," he remarks to the governess. In the scene's climax, Quint appears at the window, Miles fails to see it, the governess realizes he is no longer controlled, and then Miles' heart stops and he dies. The scene would have had more impact had it felt more actively set up by the rest of the book, but as is it's a good climax, and as the first two seasons of Twin Peaks have taught us, a great deal of poor writing can be excused by a fantastic ending. Screw doesn't escape its own laborious middle, but that doesn't entirely prevent it from ending on a high note.

The book did not successfully make me care about the children, possessed or otherwise. Instead, the parts that will stick with me the most are certainly the scenes in which the spirits appear to the governess; they have a certain snapshot intensity that I found very engaging. There's one in particular that occurs at night upon a stair lit by candlelight—a CLASSIC Gothic setup—and that I simply marked in my annotations as Antigonish. It begins gravely, "I remember that the book I had in my hand was Fielding's Amelia; also that I was wholly awake." The governess walks down the hall, her candle is blown out, and she comes face-to-face with Quint upon the stair.

It was the dead silence of our long gaze at such close quarters that gave the whole horror, huge as it was, its only note of the unnatural. If I had met a murderer in such a place and at such an hour we still at least would have spoken...I can't express what followed it save by saying that the silence itself—which was indeed in a manner an attestation of my strength—became the element into which I saw the figure disappear; in which I definitely saw it turn, as I might have seen the low wretch to which it had once belonged turn on receipt of an order, and pass, with my eyes on the villainous back that no hunch could have more disfigured, straight down the staircase and into the darkness in which the next bend was lost.

I should mention one aspect of this novel that is legitimately interesting, which is its ambiguity. Though Miles, Flora, and Mrs. Grose are familiar with Quint and Jessel prior to their deaths, the apparitions go unseen throughout the story except by the governess. It is entirely possible to read it, then, as a tale written by a madwoman who terrorized two children with her hallucinations, and in my opinion that is much more compelling. Read this way, where the governess is the ultimate threat to the children rather than abstract ghosts, the climax is much more dramatic; in "saving" Miles from an imaginary threat, she frightens the poor boy to death. It also ameliorates the pacing issues of the book with respect to the children, for if they are not actually "possessed" nothing is actually progressing except the governess' mental condition; nothing is getting worse except her derangement.

All in all, I don't regret my time with A Turn of the Screw, even though I find it much weaker than Dracula, Frankenstein, and the like as far as the genre goes. (Being read back to back with Haunting of Hill House, now my favorite Gothic horror novel of all time, certainly didn't do it any favors either.) If you're into the genre, it's worth a read, but your mileage may vary.

Edit: In the time between this post being queued and published, I read The Jolly Corner (1908) and made the terrible realization that this prolix sludge is, unfortunately, his regular writing style. On balance, I think Screw has a more compelling concept overall and a few very strong scenes, which benefits it a lot, but I don't know if I'll be suffering through much more of his work in future.