#should i write a long character dissection for each of the girls?

[fairyysoup]

i can see you

♫︎ i can see you - taylor swift ♫︎

pairing(s): steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret history of your long and arduous relationship with Steve Harrington.

aka: the 5 times you pined over each other, and the time you actually did something about it

words: 17.6k (we're NOT gonna talk about it lol)

cw: explicit, smut, piv sex, flirting, making out, heavy petting, slight exhibitionism, oral (f receiving), fingering, marking, biting, steve harrington has a big dick, themes of infidelity/cheating (sort of), skipping out on dates, bad dates, steve steal-your-girl harrington, almost-kisses, jealous!steve, jealous!reader, possessive behavior, smoking, alcohol consumption, allusions to marriage but it's never actually mentioned, canon compliant, reader and steve are the same age, 5+1 things, songfic, angst, fluff, humor, hurt/comfort, pining, mutual crush, slow burn one shot, mild twist ending, begins in season two (1984) and ends in the 90s, high school, scoops ahoy era, family video era, waiter!steve, steve harrington (the eras tour), vignette, one instance of billy hargrove slander, original characters created for plot, inspired by i can see you by taylor swift, other taylor song inspo throughout bc i'm insane like miss swift

a/n: hi and welcome to ✨rose's mental breakdown✨ yes this song will be my number one on spotify wrapped bc i listened to it on a loop for five days straight while writing this. idk. anyways this is So Much and i'm tired of looking at it so if there are any mistakes i apologize. anyways whoever can point out the most taylor song references aside from the obvious titular one gets a doubloon

ALL OF MY WORKS ARE 18+ MINORS DNI

You brush past me in the hallway, and you don’t think I can see you, do you? I’ve been watchin’ you for ages, and I spend my time trying not to feel it…

Hawkins High, September 1984

He’s so pretty sometimes that it’s disgusting.

That’s really the only thing you think when you watch Steve Harrington sneak up on his girlfriend, Nancy Wheeler, and swoop her off the ground in front of her locker. From across the hall, your locker hangs open, your body turned halfway toward them so that you can pretend that you’re not staring.

You stare a lot.

It’s not exactly the hair, you think- everyone shits a brick about his hair, for some reason that you don’t understand. Yeah, it’s nice… but you like everything else about him, too. You like how sweet he looks when he laughs. You like the way that he holds himself and the way that he looks when he puts his hands on his hips and stands around like he’s directing the traffic around him. You like how much of a prince charming he is, really. It would surprise you if he doesn’t win prom king at the end of the year. They already call him King Steve, it’s not too far of a stretch.

You close your locker just as Steve kisses Nancy, in front of god and everybody in the C Corridor hallway. Steve’s arms wrap around Nancy’s petite frame and he dips her, like they’re in some sort of George Peck and Audrey Hepburn movie. Not that the place is much of a cinematic setting, though. Down the hall, the science rooms are doing their dissection units, so the whole place smells like formaldehyde and disinfectant, and you sort of feel like curling up into one of those dissection pans and dying, yourself. 

That should be me, your brain screams. Me!!

It’s always been like this. You’ve had a crush on Steve since freshman year- the fact that he’s dating Nancy, who’s a year younger than him, doesn’t escape your jealous mind. You’ve been in classes with him for four years, you’ve admired him quietly, you’ve hoped and prayed that he somehow noticed you noticing him.

You don’t think he knows you exist. Four years- and now you’re both seniors, about to graduate, and he still doesn’t notice you. You should really stop caring, or stop trying, or stop… pining. Or something. 

You hike your bag up onto your shoulder and juggle your books in your arms. The bell rings, and quite suddenly the entire hallway erupts into pandemonium (predictable, sure, considering everyone loiters around instead of actually getting to class on time). Kids fly around you in all directions to get to their next classroom. Nancy Wheeler ducks away from Steve Harrington, avoiding yet another kiss.

God, you wish you could kiss him.

Someone slams into your shoulder from behind, muscling past you to get to science lab 5, rat central. Your binder slips out of the stack of books in your arms and clatters loudly to the ground, just as someone walks past and kicks it across the floor.

“Fuck,” you spit, chasing after it. The back of your neck feels hot. For the first time in four years, you hope to god that Steve Harrington doesn’t notice you. 

You duck around people’s legs, trying to grab at your binder, while not trying to drop any more of the books in your arms. Loose papers are starting to fall out of the binder as it skitters across the floor, and this is becoming more and more of a comedy of errors by the minute.

Your fingers just brush the corner of it before someone kicks it again. 

“Do you mind?” you snap as they walk away, not even looking in your direction. Crouched close to the floor, you don’t matter. Maybe you could count that as a blessing, considering you don’t want to be perceived right now.

You finally just throw away all dignity and crawl across the tile floor- disgusting and dirty and covered in sandy grit, as though it hasn’t been cleaned all year- to get to your binder. 

And you come face to face with a pair of white Nike’s. Ones that you know way too well, because you’ve stared at them every time they’ve passed you in the hallway. 

Nonononono- You clench your jaw and then look up, way up, to find Steve Harrington towering over you. 

He looks like he was about to just step around you, but then he notices you gazing up at him from all fours, and his hazel eyes lock on yours. You blink at each other for a second before he flushes, a pink blush breaking out on his cheeks and crawling up his neck, and he looks away quickly, but crouches down to grab your binder before your hand can land on it. 

“Sorry,” Steve says quietly, gathering up the couple papers that had started to slide out of the folders inside. You sit back on your heels, your blood rushing in your ears, mortified. His big hands gently poke the papers back into the folder as they should be before he hands it to you. “Looks like you’re gonna be late to class.”

You scoff. “Look who’s talking.”

Steve’s eyes find yours again, and he’s finally so close to you that you can admire the little bit of green in them. You’ve never been close enough to notice before.

He cracks a lopsided smile, one that he uses to charm people, you know- you’ve seen him use it on teachers and cute girls alike. “I’m always late to the party. But I get there, eventually.”

“I hope so.” He cocks his head at you. He doesn’t know the real meaning to your words- or, at least, you don’t think he does. 

I hope you don’t stay oblivious forever, Steve Harrington. I hope you get there, eventually.

You take your binder from him, but you pull your eyes away from his a bit later than you properly should. “Thanks, Steve.”

You get up and take off toward your next class, walking quickly so that you don’t come off like you’re lingering too long. But, halfway down the hall, you look over your shoulder at him.

Steve hasn’t moved, still crouched down close to the floor, with his head bent like he’s deep in thought. With his back to you, you can still see the pink flush on the back of his neck, peeking out above his collared shirt.

‘Cause I can see you, waiting down the hall from me, and I can see you up against the wall with me. What would you do? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you…

Hawkins High, April 1985

Prom season sucks. Always has, and always will. 

Maybe it was your fault for hoping that Logan Sawyer, popular prick extraordinaire, was serious about wanting to take you to prom. He seemed serious enough, stopping by your locker during passing period and leaning over you as he asked you, his mega-watt smile making you blush. You’d counted yourself lucky- you didn’t think anyone was going to ask you, and people aren’t allowed to go to prom stag.

It took Logan two weeks to find a prettier girl to go with, though. You don’t know why it hurts so much. Maybe it’s because you wanted to believe that you were someone’s first choice, but it never quite seems to turn out that way.

You wipe your tears in the mirror, scowling at your puffy, bloodshot eyes. The bathroom next to the girls’ locker room in the sports wing is completely deserted at this time- the boys’ gym class is in session now, and you’re cutting into your lunch time, but you really don’t want to have to go and cry at a lunch table, in front of a bunch of your bitchy peers, who will inevitably make fun of you for it.

Sniffling, but slightly more composed, you head out of the bathroom. The sports wing is ridiculously bigger than any other wing of the school (typical of American public schools, to prioritize sports over every other department). The wing boasts weight training rooms, dance rooms, three separate gymnasiums, and a door directly to the football field, with the locker rooms on the farthest end to allow for easy access to the field. Connecting all of these rooms is the longest corridor in the building, which seems to run for half a fucking mile.

You’ll have to walk that half mile, because in order to get to the cafeteria, you’re gonna have to traverse the entire building. You might not get to eat much today, but it was a sacrifice you were willing to make. Maybe Mrs. Marshall will be kind enough to let you snack on a granola bar in your next class period.

Halfway down the long hallway, you feel the angry sting of tears behind your eyes again, and your face screws up in frustration. You stop, turning halfway back toward the girls’ bathroom, wondering if you should just go back in and allow yourself to cry some more.

Suck it up, you think to yourself, smacking at your tear stained cheeks. He’s not the guy you really want to ask you to prom, anyways.

You press your fingertips into your eyes to relieve the sting of tears, taking a deep breath. Being in high school is driving you crazy. At this point in the year, the teachers have given up teaching, the students have given up learning, and you’re basically just biding your time in a glorified babysitting service until you can inevitably grab your diploma and get out of here. You can’t wait for that time to arrive. 

A door opens further down the hallway, in the direction of the cafeteria. You wipe your nose once and keep moving in the direction you were going, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, standing in the middle of the hallway having a breakdown.

Moving forwards, you keep your eyes on the ground. Once you hear the door that had been opened slam shut again, you figure that whoever it was has moved on down the hallway, and you lift your eyes again. 

They have not, in fact, moved on. And you suddenly have the urge to turn and fucking run back into the girls’ bathroom, because Steve Harrington is bent over at the drinking fountain, directly outside the boys’ weight room.

What the fuck, what the fuck. You suck on your teeth, trying not to falter in your stride. Maybe he hasn’t seen you, and you can just pass him up. It’s fine, he hasn’t seen you crying. 

Your mind backtracks to the beginning of the year, you fumbling your binder all the way across the hallway and ending up right in front of him, crawling toward him. Looking up at him and probably, most definitely, making him really uncomfortable.

You have English class together, where you sit at the desk closest to the door. He comes in late almost every day, so he passes by you every time. Some days he looks at your desk. On good days, he meets your eye. But he hasn’t spoken to you since that day in September, and you really shouldn’t hold out hope that he will. 

You definitely don’t want him to notice you when you’ve been crying, your face is a mess, your hair is limp and you look bedraggled. You just want to fade into the background of your next class with whatever snack you can get from the cafeteria snuck into your bag, so you can stress eat it without any guff from a teacher (like you aren’t 18 and capable of deciding when you are and aren’t allowed to eat).

You keep your eyes down. If you don’t look at him, he doesn’t exist.

Except, Steve Harrington always exists, in the back of your mind, and in your periphery. He is impossible not to notice, as per usual. He really just draws the eye like a magnet. Try as you might, your eyes keep flicking up to take stock of him. 

He’s wearing a uniform gray P.E. shirt and gym shorts that don’t leave a lot to the imagination, and you fixate on his thighs more than you should. He has sweat dripping down his neck, wetting his hair on the sides of his face and the seam of his shirt. It shouldn’t be attractive. He shouldn’t be attractive. With his face a mess. And his hair limp, and looking bedraggled. Truly, you make a priceless pair, being the only two people in the hallway.

We’re perfect for each other, a voice says in your head. And you manage, for the first time in an hour, to crack a smile down at your shoes.

He finishes getting his drink at the fountain, and you figure that he’ll just go back into the weight room and not see you. But, of course, luck is not on your side.

Steve Harrington looks at you. And you look away, quickly, acting like you hadn’t been staring at him. And in your periphery, again, you see him stretch his arms over his head, and then turn and lean against the cinderblock wall beside the door to the weight room, with his hands on his knees as though he’s catching his breath.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

He does it so casually, and with the way he’s sweating and his face is flushed, you’re sure that he probably does just want to take a break before going in and lifting more weights. But something in the back of your mind says that the maneuver was too purposeful, immediately after he laid eyes on you. 

It could just be wishful thinking on your part. You heard through the grapevine that Steve and Nancy Wheeler broke up in a nasty way just before winter break, and it doesn’t seem like he’s been interested in anyone since. He hasn’t dated anyone, hasn’t flirted with any girls or showed up at any parties. Nancy must have really broken his heart.

You know too well what that feels like, right now.

Nearing where he leans against the wall, you keep your head down and you plan on just passing by without any acknowledgement from him, same as it ever was. If he’s still carrying a torch for Nancy, you’re sure that he doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’ve nearly convinced yourself of it.

But then you hear your name called quietly, and it nearly makes you jump. You look over at him, thinking you’re just hearing things, but you look directly into a pair of hazel eyes again, and you feel yourself rocketing back in time to September.

You didn’t even think he knew your name.

You slow to a stop. It would be rude not to stop, right? “Uh… hi, Steve. You good?”

Steve Harrington looks you up and down, while he leans against the wall and breathes a bit heavily, like he’s out of breath. He peers at you through long eyelashes, looking impossibly inviting despite everything; the setting, your appearances, the way that you feel like dissolving into a puddle right in front of him. “Yeah, great. You?”

He’s scrutinizing your face now. You shrug, since he’s already seen you, and there’s no way to pretend you weren’t crying thirty seconds ago. “I’m fine. Just being dramatic, don’t worry about me.” 

“When people say not to worry about them, it usually means that you should,” Steve muses. He looks coy, like he’s speaking from experience. 

You sigh, stepping forward to get your own drink from the drinking fountain. “Logan Sawyer called off our date for prom.”

“Oh.” Steve pauses for a few seconds, watching as you bend down and take your drink, more silent than he usually is. “I mean… that really sucks. I’m sorry. But… Logan Sawyer?”  

“Yeah.” You wipe your mouth, and then wet the ends of your fingers and use the cool water to rub at your stinging eyes again. When you’re done, you lean up against the wall beside him, letting your back settle into the cinderblock.

“The guy’s a fucking douche.”

“Tell me about it.”

“No, I mean it, I think it’s a good thing you’re not going to prom with him. He’s really shitty to girls.” You look up at Steve, who’s watching you with his arms crossed, with the most serious expression you’ve ever seen him wear. “I mean, the only guy worse than Logan is probably… I dunno…”

“Billy Hargrove?” 

Steve laughs. Actually laughs. You’ve wanted to make him laugh like that for four years. His cheeks turn crimson and he grins down at his shoes, snickering like there’s way more to the joke he’s laughing at than you even know about. “Yeah. Yeah, he’s gotta be the worst.”

You chuckle, albeit with a sadder tone than he has. “Well, I’m not going to prom with either of them. So, I can count my blessings. I guess.”

Steve frowns, and he looks like he’s going to say something else, but you’re already turning away, not wanting to continue the depressing conversation about your lack of dates. Especially not from the one guy who you desperately want to go on a date with.

You get a few steps away before he takes a step after you, saying, “Wait. You, uh-”

You stop, and look back at him. He looks dumbfounded, his arm outstretched like he was going to try to grab you if you didn’t listen to him. When you frown, he steps back against the wall, bringing his hand up to run through his hair. 

Oh . That’s a nervous tick. You know it, because you’ve watched him do it more than once in English, in front of the class during a presentation.

Steve looks down at his shoes, his brow scrunched in thought. He looks like he’s really trying to find the right words to say. In your head, a hopeful part of you imagines what those words could be. ‘Will you go to prom with me?’

Finally, he looks up at you resolutely. “You’ll find someone to take you to prom. I’m sure of it.” He nods a little, like he’s reassuring himself that he said the right thing. 

You can’t help the smile that springs onto your face. It’s incredulous, of course, but he can’t know that. Keep trying, baby. You’ll get there, eventually.

“Thanks, Steve.” It’s the second time you thank him in the course of the year.

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Prom Night, May 1985

The dress you’re wearing is sleek and a lot simpler than some of the more popular styles on the dance floor, but you like it more than you care to admit. You’d just grabbed it off the rack at Macy’s, and beyond that you didn’t want to go all-out for prom. It turns out that your lab partner, Gavin Connelly, needed a date, too. So, you’re here with him, because you knew that if you missed prom, you would probably regret it.

Except, well.

Gavin, stoned out of his fucking mind, is sitting at one of the tables, nursing a cup of punch, looking like he’s two seconds from falling asleep. You’ve taken to making the rounds and saying hi to anyone you can call a ‘friend,’ because you’re tired of just loitering next to him. Something tells you he didn’t want to even be here.

The speakers are playing ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ and couples are swaying on the dance floor in a Bonnie Tyler-induced haze. At a loss for people to bother, you wander back over to your date to find his head plastered to the white table cloth. 

You glance to the guy sitting next to him, a kid with glasses who you don’t recognize but who seems to know your date, because he’s just patting Gavin’s back. “Is he okay?”

“Oh, no, he’s dying.” The kid shoots you a sarcastic smile. 

You nod, pressing your tongue hard to the roof of your mouth. “Well, if he wakes up, tell him I’m getting some air.”

Fuck this. Fuck prom. Fuck high school boys.

Your heels, which are killing your feet already, click loudly on the tile hallway floor as you exit the gym. The table where you can check your bag and coat are located at the other end of the hall, where everyone is supposed to enter through the door to the football field.

You can hear voices from the far end of the hall, and Bonnie Tyler’s voice fading out the further you get from the gym. You might never be able to hear that song again without thinking of your ruined slow dance opportunity.

As you pass by, someone coughs off to the left and you turn your head to see Steve Harrington, black tie and all, loitering in the shadows. You stop a few feet from him and squint into the dark.

You can’t believe it. He always seems to show up at the worst times. “What are you doing, skulking around?” 

“I’m not sulking.”

You snort, stepping into the shadows with him. “No, skulk- like, sneaking around?” 

“Well, I didn’t mean to sneak-” he looks over his shoulder at the gym entrance. “I’m just getting some air.”

“Funny,” you murmur. “I was just about to do the same thing.”

He eyes you, a lot like he did a few weeks ago in this same hallway, further up toward the other end of it. He takes in your hair, styled painstakingly to ‘perfection,’ or as close as you could approximate it, and your off-the-rack department store dress. You suddenly feel like you aren’t as pretty as you thought you were at the beginning of the night. 

But then he meets your eye, and all those insecurities fade into the back of your mind. He’s smiling at you, and that can only be a good thing.

“So, uh…” Steve leans back against the wall, his hands in his pockets, “You found someone to take you?”

You press your lips into a tight line. You don’t really want to think about your date right now, but- “Gavin Connelly.”

“Who?”

You laugh, kicking the heel of your shoe against the ground with a soft clack. “Yeah. God, I wish I didn’t know him right now.”

“Why, what’d he do?” Steve sounds perturbed. You look up to find him scowling already.

“Oh, he just ate a pot brownie before he picked me up and passed out at one of the tables.” You finish with a tired giggle, shrugging at Steve as he peers at you with an annoyed expression. “Who did you bring?”

“Kelly Palmer.” 

You know Kelly. She doesn’t say much, but she’s gotten a scholarship to a big art school. “Do you like her?”

“Yeah, she’s nice,” he says mildly. Unconvincingly.

You can understand the subtext. She’s not Nancy. When you look at his face, he seems tortured in the low light coming from down the hall.

“Guess I’m oh-for-two,” Steve adds after a pause. “Last year’s prom, Nance and I didn’t have such a good time, either.”

You nod. It seems like there’s more he wants to say, but he doesn’t. “I’m sorry,” you offer. You don’t know the ins-and-outs of Steve and Nancy’s relationship, aside from watching them suck face in the hallway five paces from you for a year and a half. “Prom sucks. High school sucks. These can’t be the best years of our lives, trust me.”

“Yeah, I hope not.” 

“I just can’t wait to get out of here, you know,” you grumble, allowing your sour mood to come out a little more than normal. It seems like Steve is just really good at getting you to let your guard down. “I’m planning to go to Chicago for college. This is all just… you know, it’s just the starting point. What about you, any big plans?”

“Dunno. I didn’t get accepted to any schools, so I’ll just be getting a job here in town until something better comes along.” Steve shifts, his heel hitting the wall behind him. He looks disappointed when he says, “I think I made too many mistakes.” 

You frown, chewing on your lip. “What do you mean?”

He gives you a heavy look, like he’s gearing up to say something important, something game changing- and then his gaze softens. 

“You’ve got an eyelash.” He gestures to his own eye, like it’ll make you understand exactly where the loose one is on your face.

“Oh.” You falter, lifting your manicured hands and wiping at your undereyes. “Did I get it?”

“No, uh- here, I can-” Steve tentatively reaches forward, and you step toward him to let him touch your face. 

Steve Harrington is touching your face.  

His fingertip brushes your cheekbone, so featherlight you would barely feel it if you weren’t hyper aware of everything that he said or did. His touch glides across your cheek and toward your temple, and then he seems to keep it there, his hand hovering just over your skin.

Reflexively, your hand comes up to rest on his shoulder. You’re inches from Steve’s face, your eyes falling to his lips.

You could kiss him. You could live your fantasy, right now.

Steve’s gaze lingers on your face for a moment, and then he says, “You’re so beautiful.”

Your heart lurches in your chest. He doesn’t say that you look beautiful. He doesn’t say it conditionally, like it’s just for tonight. You are beautiful. Even when you’re crawling on all fours after your binder. Even when you’re crying, and your hair is limp, and you look bedraggled.

“Steve…” you whisper, inching closer to him. 

“STEVE??!”

You jump away from him like he’s burned you, and peek around the hall corner to see Kelly Palmer standing outside the gym looking up and down the hall, searching for him. She looks lost, and sad, like he must have ditched.

She looks an awful lot like you just did, coming out of that gym.

You feel Steve’s hand where it had fallen to your wrist, dragging your attention gently back to him. You take his hand and squeeze it once, giving him a tight smile. 

“You brought her here for a good time,” you say with your bravest smile. “Just don’t pass out at one of the tables on her, okay?”

Don’t be a douche. Don’t be like Logan Sawyer. 

Steve swallows, and gives you a short nod. You think he finally got there.

You give a soft pat to the lapel of his suit jacket. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” 

He touches your arm one final time before he slips around the corner, just as Kelly turns to go back into the gym. You watch him walk away, and you think to yourself, That’s the last time I chase after Steve Harrington.

Wherever there is, it’s not with you.

Steve loops his arms around Kelly’s waist and lifts her, earning a thrilled squeal as the silver taffeta of her dress glints blue in the light from the gym. You wait until they’ve disappeared back into it before you turn and high-tail it toward the coat check table.

And we kept everything professional, but something’s changed, it’s something I like. They keep watchful eyes on us, so it’s best if we move fast and keep quiet…

Starcourt Mall, June 1985

“Come on, it’s ridiculously hot outside,” your best friend, Shelly, groans as she pulls you along by the wrist. “I can’t believe they only have one ice cream place here.”

“I’m sure they have slushies at the-”

“Ice. Cream.” You know better than to argue with her.

Scoops Ahoy has a novelty nautical theme that makes you want to both laugh and break down in tears when you see it. The PA is playing a cutesy rendition of Drunken Sailor on accordion, and you think that if you keep looking at the striped wallpaper behind the counter, you might get literally seasick. In the mall. In landlocked Indiana. 

Or… is it landlocked if it fronts Lake Michigan? It doesn’t matter. You’ll be in Chicago in two days, anyways.

You let Shelly drag you along until you look towards the front counter, and you see something that nearly makes you trip and face plant into Shelly’s fresh perm.

Even Shelly pauses. “Is that who I think it is?”

It’s something about the stupid little sailor’s cap and shorts, and that he’s so, so pretty in it, you think. It’s also something about how you have the perfect vantage point to watch him try and fail to flirt with the girl that approaches the counter to order. You’re enamored with him. There’s no other way to describe it. 

You have half a mind to run away, after what you promised yourself on prom night over a month ago. You’d done good, you didn’t search for him in the halls, you ignored him in your last couple of class periods with him. You’d even been in the bathroom when his name was called at graduation. 

But, here he is. Steve Harrington, absolutely obliterating his chances of getting a date with the girl ordering a sundae ahead of you. 

Honestly, you don’t know what you’re waiting for. Maybe an invitation? A sign from god that today’s the day that you’ll make a move? Or maybe this is just a test of will.

You stop resisting Shelly’s attempts to drag you along, and straighten your spine. You can do this. Four years’ worth of pining won’t make a difference in whether or not you order a strawberry ice cream cone.

He’s even prettier up close, his rosy cheeks framed by sunkissed, wavy hair. When he sees you he stalls, going a bit wide-eyed and then seeming to realize he’s supposed to do his job. He leans heavily against the counter. “Ahoy, ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, Steve Harrington.”

“Uh-huh.” You stare at each other for a long moment. “How much do they pay you to recite that script?”

“Absolutely nothing, I do this for pure enjoyment.” You’re almost sure that he doesn’t. He pauses, a hand poised on his hip. “Too much?”

“I’d dial it back just a smidge. Maybe keep the ahoy and the captain thing and toss the rest.” 

“Noted.” He nods slowly, his eyes fixed on you. “I thought you were going to Chicago?”

“I leave the day after tomorrow,” you shrug. “Still time for me to burn the place down, you know.”

“Well, I’m glad you stopped by,” Steve chuckles. “I could show you where the gas line is, then we’d all be in trouble.”

“Oookay.” Shelly gives you a curious side-eye, and then turns back to Steve. “Well, I’ll have a U.S.S. Butterscotch with a chocolate dipped waffle bowl, if you don’t mind.”

Steve tears his eyes away from you long enough to grin at Shelly. “Coming right up. And for you?”

You freeze, glancing up at the menu. It’s written in an infuriatingly cutesy code-language that you have to decipher. “Um. I’m still deciding.”

“All right, then. Just let me know, when you’re ready.��� 

Steve slips away to make Shelly her sundae, a heaping pile of ice cream and butterscotch syrup that looks like the fast track to a heart attack. You alternate between trying to comprehend the menu and being distracted by Steve in that stupid sailor’s uniform.

The script on the menu may as well be written in a foreign language. Blackbeard’s Delight. Treasure Island Turtle. U.S.S. Sherbet. The sizes are even harder to understand. Fathom. League. Nautical Mile. You don’t have the capacity to decipher it- your eyes are seeing the words, but your mind is traveling back to prom night, and feeling Steve’s finger on your cheek as you gear up to kiss him.

“Are you ready?”

“Mhm…” It takes you a second to zone back into the present moment, where Steve is standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, waiting to take your order. He waits, with a patient smile on his face, while you blink dumbly at him.

What did you say? What did he say?

“I… um.” You’re sure you look completely out of it. Your eyes flick nervously up at the menu, that you still can’t fucking read. Shelly’s already gone to sit down with her sundae, the traitor.

“It’s kind of hard to understand, isn’t it?” Steve says quietly after a moment, dropping the phony customer service charade. “I hate it. I think we should just be able to say what our favorite ice cream flavor is and be done with it.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still squinting up at the menu. Blackbeard’s Delight: blackberry swirl with blueberry syrup and a gold doubloon. “The fuck is a doubloon?”

Steve snorts, and reaches under the counter before bringing back a handful of gold foil-covered chocolate coins, which he dumps into your outstretched hand. “You want more? We get them wholesale.”

“I’m good,” you giggle, juggling the chocolate coins before they go cascading to the floor. “I think… I don’t… I don’t understand a thing on that menu.”

“What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?” He leans forward to ask you, like it's a secret. Just between the two of you. His head bent a little to peer at you closely, so close that you can count the freckles on his skin.

You glance over your shoulder. Shelly is seated by the far wall, under a painting of a kraken, giving you an indignant look. When she notices you looking, she mouths an emphatic, ‘LET’S GO!’

“Don’t tell anyone,” you whisper, and Steve affects his gravest expression as he nods. “Strawberry.” 

“A classic,” he grins. “Fan of sprinkles?” 

“I can dig a few sprinkles.”

“Perfect. I think we have something up your alley.” He grabs a scooper out of the bin and twirls it once, just to show off. “Sex on the Beach.” 

“What?” You don’t remember seeing anything about that on the menu.

He glances up to smirk at you before shrugging. “It’s strawberry ice cream with peach syrup. You’ll see.”

You keep an eye on his hands behind the glass partition, watching them put two scoops of strawberry into a medium sized carton. Completely unable to rein in your thoughts before they get away from you, you’re thinking about how good they would feel under your shirt. You follow a treasure map of freckles trailing up his arms, disappearing under the blue sailor’s shirt he wears. You want to kiss every single one of them.

You finally reply, “I guess I have to put my faith in your professional ice cream slinging abilities.” 

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Steve mutters sardonically as he squirts peach syrup across the two scoops of ice cream, giving it a golden sheen. “I’m the king of cream.”

You purse your lips as it takes Steve a second to realize what he just said. When he does, he snaps his head up to meet your eye in horror. 

He opens his mouth to take it back, but you shake your head, holding back laughter. “Don’t ruin it.”

“I think it’s pretty much ruined already.” He turns crimson, blushing down at the half-made sundae as he rapidly shakes yellow sprinkles onto it. “I was doing so good, too.”

“Who says you aren’t still?” You give him a cute smile when he looks up through his lashes at you, still arranging toppings on the sundae. You’re not sure what happened between prom and now to change him so much, but it’s almost as if he’s… goofy. He’s less concerned with appearances, he’s more laid back and willing to make fun of himself. 

You like it a lot. 

You watch him plop two maraschinos onto one ice cream mound, and wedge a candied orange slice into the other, inverted, to look like a setting sun. As he passes it over the counter to you, he says, “Here you go, one Sex on the Beach. On the house.”

“What? No, I couldn’t-”

“I mean it. For overlooking my stupidity,” Steve insists. He gives you a meaningful look when he adds, “A million times over.”

“I’m not overlooking anything when it comes to you, Steve,” you tell him fondly, and drop one of the doubloons into the tip jar. It’s gaudy, gleaming artificially gold in the middle of the crumpled up dollar bills. “Hang onto that. You might be able to cash it in for a kiss someday.”

Steve blinks rapidly, leaning across the counter as you walk away. “After you come back from Chicago, right?”

You look over your shoulder, and you wink at him.

When you finally stop in front of Shelly, and you use your plastic spoon to dig into the adorable sundae that Steve crafted for you, you remember that you’d gone up to the counter with every intention of ignoring Steve and acting like you didn’t even know him.

You winked at Steve Harrington. You said you’d kiss him. You think back to the girl who was so afraid of Steve even noticing her, almost a year ago, and wonder where she went.

You look down at Shelly. She’d graduated a year before you, so she wasn’t there to witness every blunderous interaction you’d had with Steve in school. You never told her how in love you were with him.

Now, she looks up at you coyly. “So. Steve Harrington, huh?”

“Shut up,” you grunt, looking up and out at the food court outside of the Scoops Ahoy storefront. “As if you know everything.”

“Are you gonna try to make something out of that…” she gestures vaguely with her spoon toward the counter, “before school starts?” 

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say honestly, still poking at your sundae. “Anyways, I leave too soon for anything to really happen. What- I screw him tomorrow and then fuck off forever? It’s just wishful thinking, probably.” You finally take a bite of the ice cream, just to punctuate your sentence.

“Hm. Probably. How is that?” Shelly nods at the ice cream in your hand. “Looks pretty.”

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” You’re being honest. Something about the peach syrup with the strawberry base literally evokes the flavor of a sunset. “They should give him a raise.”

Humming, Shelly stands and takes her half-eaten sundae. She nudges you in the direction of the door. “C’mon. We’ve gotta eat these before the next showing of The Breakfast Club.”

Steve watches you and your friend leave, with the wistful gaze of someone who just watched their greatest opportunity walk away from them. He never knew that it was possible to hate an entire geographic location, but he really wishes Chicago would get blown off the map in the next 24 hours. 

The wooden partition doors slam open, and Robin’s head appears in the window to the kitchen. “The cream king? Do you want me to actually hurl?”

“I said, ‘the king of cream,’” he groans, digging his knuckles into his eye sockets. “Kill me, Robin. Load me into the freezer. Bury me at the fairground.”

“You think you’re valuable enough to displace that much ice cream?” Robin rolls her eyes, and with another loud thwack, her white board appears in the space behind her. “We don’t make anything called Sex on the Beach. This is a family establishment.”

“I made it up.” 

Robin coos, “Aww. Be still my heart. You love her to the point of invention.” 

Steve whirls around. “Love? Who said anything about love?” 

“I did.” Robin uncaps her dry-erase marker and draws a tally mark under the side that reads, you rule.

“Uh, Robin,” Steve snaps, pointing at the board condescendingly. “I think you put that on the wrong side. I fucked it up.”

“Dingus. Please. As much as it makes me gag- and you know I gain immense pleasure from counting how often you screw up- I could practically hear her heart eyes.” She sets the white board down, begrudgingly. “I think you found the only girl alive who’ll find all this-” she waves her hand at him, “endearing. Who was she? Some ex of yours?” 

“If only,” Steve sighs, shaking his head. When he turns back to the counter, his eyes land on the single chocolate coin glinting in the tip jar.

He scoops it up with two fingers and pockets it.

You won’t believe half the things I see inside my head. Wait ‘til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet…

Family Video, March 1986

The air conditioning nearly blasts you backwards into the parking lot. You don’t know why they need it blasting so hard at 7pm, in the middle of March. It’s not like it’s the height of summer- your spring break takes place earlier than the local school’s, but it just means that you get to beat the crowds when you come home to visit your family.

Of course, they love to send you to run errands. You end up picking up the groceries, and the housewares, and, on this occasion, the choices for family movie night. 

This Family Video’s selection isn’t necessarily as extensive as the ones in Chicago, but it’s good enough. You enter the store, and it dumps you directly in front of a cardboard cutout of Phoebe Cates about to flash you. Family friendly entertainment, and all.

The TV in the corner is running the final scene of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly- Ennio Morricone’s score plays dramatically into the empty store. There’s no one behind the counter currently, so you pull the list of videos your extended family members had all requested. The Breakfast Club. Camelot. The Birds. Pretty general selections for your family, but it seems like you’ll have to hunt them up on your own. 

You’re wandering down the romance aisle, since The Breakfast Club was nowhere on the new releases or comedy shelves, when someone finally emerges from the back room. You see a flash of a head moving toward the front counter from over the top of a rack, and you take it as your chance to ask for help.

“Excuse me? Do you guys have any copies of The Breakfast Club, or-”

You stop short, choking on your words. Steve Harrington turns around to look at you, carrying a stack of VHS tapes perched under his chin, and holding a folded up piece of paper between his teeth.

You stare each other down for a second, before Steve gracefully spits the paper over his shoulder and onto the counter. “Hey, um… long time, no see?”

“I’d say.” You tilt your head. Funny how quickly your eyes will hone in on his lips, like searching for a target every time. “We always seem to run into each other like this. What happened to the ice cream gig?”

“Starcourt burned down,” Steve says, plopping the stack of VHS tapes down on the counter beside the paper he spit out. “Right around the Fourth of July, last summer.”

“So, right after I last saw you?”

Steve smirks to himself before he turns back to you. “Yeah. Like, a week or so after. Did you manage to burn the place down, after all?” 

“I wish.” 

You pause, taking the time to size him up. It’s amazing what the better part of a year will do to someone, inside and out. With a striped shirt and green vest, he looks much more relaxed and casual than he had at Scoops Ahoy. His hair’s a little longer, his eyes a little darker as they rake over you, in return. 

You’re a little bit desperate to see what’s going on in his head, if it’s anything like what’s happening in yours.

You wish you could say that you tried to seek him out when you got back to town- a year ago, maybe you would have. But you’d pretty much given up on the idea of him, moving up to dating college boys who don’t string you along, who don’t wait until the last minute to finally try their hand at flirting with you. If he ever passed through your mind, it was with the attached hope that he’d found greener pastures than Hawkins, Indiana. Foolishly, you hoped that as long as you told yourself that he’d moved on, it would be true. And then maybe what could have been wouldn’t matter anymore.

You’d stepped back into Hawkins after half a year of college, the graveyard of all hope in your happily ever after, and you hadn’t even thought of Steve Harrington. Except, seeing him now, everything comes flooding back. All the days spent pining over him. All the close brushes you’d had with finally getting the ending you wanted. 

You have to be honest. “You look good, Steve. You always do.”

Steve chuckles, tilting his chin down as he shoves his hands into the pockets of his light wash jeans. “Better without the sailor costume, right?”

“Aww, I liked the sailor costume.” You step closer so you can whisper, “I thought it was sexy.”

Steve peers down his nose at you, drawing himself up to tower above you at his full height. He tries to look unaffected, but you can see his ears glowing pink beneath wisps of golden highlights. “Watch it. You’re gonna give me an ego.”

“We don’t want that, do we?” You unfold the list of movies you’re here to collect, holding it up to him between two fingers. “Got any of these movies?” 

Steve reads the short list, and nods to himself. “I know we have Camelot, but I’m not sure about The Breakfast Club. Let me check in the back?” 

“I’ll be here.”

“All right- don’t get up to any trouble, though. I’ve got my eye on you.” He points at you coolly, feigning an authoritative expression. He tries to hide his smile, but the creases around his eyes give him away. 

“I hope you do.” You try to appear casual as you breeze past him, but you have to fiddle with your jacket collar to hide their shaking. Still, you feel the sweep of his gaze on you like rays of sun on your skin. It frightens you how easily you can fall back into the old back-and-forth routine you established in high school- how he gets you to say things you never meant to voice, but that live in your head effortlessly. 

Steve watches you disappear down the drama aisle before he takes in a huge breath of air and bolts toward the back room. Any and all coolness he was performing disappears like so much smoke. Slamming open the door, he nearly shouts, “Do you have a doubloon?!” 

Robin startles, swinging around in her seat, looking away from her computer screen. “A what? Why are you yelling?”

“A doubloon, a f-fucking-” Steve looks quickly over his shoulder, out the door, and starts hunching over as he whispers, “a chocolate coin. Like one of those ones we had at Scoops, remember?”

“Why do you want a chocolate coin?” Robin squints at him. “Stop crouching like that, you look like Nosferatu.”

Steve hisses through his teeth, and he’s got a frantic edge to his expression that Robin doesn’t like. “Okay- remember that girl, the one who showed up at Scoops that time, and you gave me my one and only ‘You Rule’ tally?” 

“No.”

“Great. Well, she’s here, and she told me if I gave her one of those chocolate coins she’d kiss me.” Steve shoves his hands through his hair, mussing up the already disheveled style. “Please, Rob, I can’t let her get away again. I’ve done it, like, a thousand times already.” 

“Okay, Romeo,” Robin humors him, turning around in her seat. “So you’re saying this babe, who I very much don’t remember because you always struck out while we worked at Scoops, told you that if you bribed her with chocolate she’d kiss you?”

“Yes.”

“And you don’t think she was maybe joking?” 

Steve opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water. Truthfully, he hadn’t. He’d overlooked the idea that, after everything that had happened between you, you might just be joking about kissing him. 

“You know you could use your actual charm to get a girl to kiss you?” Robin dips her chin, shaking her head like it’s obvious.

Steve frowns. As if he hasn’t already tried that. “Do you have any chocolate coins or not?”

Robin sighs exasperatedly. “I don’t think I’ve seen one of those things since we worked at Scoops. Sorry, bud. You’re out of luck.” 

“FUCK!” Steve’s hand smacks the door as he heads out of the back room, making Robin scowl after him. She shakes her head as she turns back to her work.

Back out on the sales floor, the credits to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly have finished, and white noise fills the empty space. Steve turns in a circle by the checkout counter, searching for you among the aisles.

Where did you disappear to, this time? A part of him dreads the answer. He was the one who fucked everything up- he shouldn’t have chickened out when he had the chance. He should have asked you to that fucking prom, but he was too scared to commit after what happened with Nancy. 

If this is his last chance, he needs to make it count. 

He coughs into the dead air, and says, “Looks like we’re all out of The Breakfast Club.” There’s a disconcerting amount of silence that leaves him cold, almost certain that you’ve left already, for the last time.

Then, you appear from behind the red curtain to the adult videos section.

Oh.  

“Everything okay?” you ask sweetly as you approach, holding a couple tapes that you must have picked up while you shopped around. “I heard some yelling back there.” 

“Oh, yeah. Just, uh… shelving issues.” Steve backs his way behind the counter. He repeats, “Sorry, I couldn’t find the movie for you.”

“I heard. I’m not worried about it.” You plop the tapes that you did find on the counter. “It was nice of you to look for me. Thanks, Steve.”

“Always.” Steve starts scanning your tapes; it looks like you managed to find the other films on your list, along with one for yourself. From the adult section. 

You watch in amusement as you can see the cogs visibly turning in Steve’s head, while he stares at the front of the porn video you picked. Spring Break Sex Party II. Not that you’d ever seen the first one, but the cover of this one was suggestive enough- a bunch of drunk people naked on a beach, lying in a great big pile. Looks like fun, in your opinion.

You always love seeing Steve blush. The prettiest shade of pink colors his cheeks before he glances up at you. “Should I ask…?”

“It’s the closest thing to getting a Sex on the Beach, here.” 

Steve chokes, and he scrambles for a response to that. “I- I was gonna ask for an I.D.”

“You know we’re the same age,” you deadpan.

“Y-yeah. I, uh- I know… I know that.” He hangs his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes tightly shut.

You wonder if this is what you looked like to him, that time in the hallway when he loitered by the fountain to talk to you. “Breathe, Steve.”

A blast of laughter leaves his mouth before he can swallow it. If only you knew how hard it actually is, to act like he’s not just fucking melting right in front of you. When he hangs on every word you say, and every other thought he has is about how badly he wants to tell Robin to get lost and take you in the back room. You don’t know how much he’s fixating on your curves and how they’d feel against him, how much he wants to taste every inch of your body. He’s practically vibrating in place with all his pent up frustration, and you’re here buying porn, like it’s the easiest thing in the world.

Steve clears his throat, shakes his head. Christ. “Okay, well. You know that this is a sale item, it’s not for rent. You can return it within 10 days as long as the packaging hasn’t been opened.”

“I know.”

“Okay.” He’s still nodding as he puts it into the bag with the rest of your rentals. 

“Are you always this affected by people buying from the adult section?” you ask mildly. 

“Nah, usually I don’t care,” he replies without thinking. 

“Good to know that you care about my taste in pornography,” you tell him with the most shit eating grin on your face, taking the bag from him. “I’m flattered.”

He makes a clumsy noise in the back of his throat, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. He’s right back to working at Scoops Ahoy, fumbling every attempt at flirting, losing his cool at the sight of a pretty girl. It’s… humbling.

He’s sure Robin would say that he can always use more humility.

“It was good to see you again, Steve.” And just like that, you’re sand slipping through the cracks in his fingers. 

Desperately, he tries to block the flow, closing his fingers around you in an attempt to keep you in his grasp. “Do you- uh-” He lurches forward, white-knuckling the counter like his life depends on it. You turn back towards him, an eyebrow raised at his sudden outburst. 

You’re back in the school hallway, senior year. Crying over Logan Sawyer. Harrington is up against the wall by the drinking fountain. You want him to just say the words and ask you to prom.

“I mean… if you have the time, while you’re in town… do you want to go for a cup of coffee? With me?”

“Oh, Steve.” You sigh, and it’s the most heartbreaking noise he’s ever heard in his life. Soft sand, falling through his fingers, disappearing back the way you came. He already dreads your answer before it comes. “I wish… you know, if I had come in here and met you about a week ago, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. But I have to catch the train back to Chicago tomorrow. My break’s almost up.” You offer him a reassuring smile. “I’m just glad that you didn’t completely miss me, at least.”

“Right, of course.” Steve smiles back at you, feeling more like an idiot the longer this drags on. He’s like Sisyphus rolling that rock up the fucking hill. “I… I’m glad I got to see you, too. Maybe next time.” 

Oh, it hurts. It hurts way more than you thought it would, to have to turn Steve down- after all the years pining for him through high school, after the time you turned him away when he would have kissed you. You think about kissing him, now. He would let you do it- he’s asking you out, and he looks so sad that you’re saying no.

You could. But wouldn’t it make saying goodbye this time even harder than it already is?

“Yeah. Maybe next time,” you tell him. You don’t want this to hurt more than it does. You truly hope there’s a next time, another year down the line when you run into him over winter break. Maybe you’ll find him at the Radio Shack. 

Steve watches you leave, once again. Fumbling his chance, again. When the door swings shut behind you, Steve bends at the waist and drops his head against the countertop. 

Typical Harrington. Late to the party, miss the girl.

“Well. That was… really painful to listen to.” Robin emerges from behind one of the shelves, crossing her arms. Gently, she adds, “On the bright side, I don’t think the chocolate coin would have mattered.”

Steve picks his head up, and he thwacks his forehead back down onto the counter.

And again.

And again.

And I can see you being my addiction, you can see me as a secret mission. Hide away, and I will start behaving myself…

Sur La Table Restaurant, Chicago, April 1991

You shake your umbrella out as you step into the warm foyer of, quite possibly, the most upscale restaurant you’ve ever set foot in. The carpet is deep, blood red, the walls a dark chestnut wood. The white covered tables are each spotlit within the otherwise dark dining room, and the atmosphere is flavored by soft piano and the quiet din of hushed voices. 

You had been hesitant to accept Theo’s invitation to dinner- he seemed too stuck up for your taste, but when Shelly introduced you to him, you had to admit that the name of the restaurant piqued your interest. Sur La Table. Chicago’s premiere Michelin Star restaurant. 

As you hand your umbrella over to the coat check clerk, you’re greeted by a smiling hostess. “What’s the name for the reservation?”

“Um… Theo Bowman. I believe he’s already here?”

“Yes, ma’am. Right this way.” 

Theo stands as you’re shown to the table. Tall, with dark hair and a wide smile, he reminds you of someone you knew once, but you just can’t seem to place it. Then, when he towers over you to shake your hand, standing far closer than necessary, you’re able to pick it out from the recesses of your mind.

Logan Sawyer.  

“You look nice,” Theo says pleasantly, and you chalk up your initial comparison to nerves, on your part. You don’t often let friends set you up on dates, so you’re a little bit out of your element as it is.

As you go to sit down, you admit, “I was so glad when you picked this place, I’ve always wanted to eat here, since I moved to Chicago.” 

“It’s not the nicest place I’ve been,” Theo shrugs, taking the seat across from you.

Your smile falters, for a second. “Oh, no?” The water has already been brought to the table, you guess while he was waiting for you. You take a long drink.

“Nah, I’ve been to Le Bernardin, in New York. That’s fine dining.” Theo waves his hand at the upscale dining room. “This is… okay.”

“I see.” You lift your menu, hoping that he’ll do the same.

“Yeah, New York is so much nicer than Chicago, in my opinion,” Theo continues, fiddling with his napkin as he talks. “There’s a lot more to do. Have you ever been?”

You hope this is just his nerves talking. “No.” 

Theo keeps talking as you stare at the menu in front of you, at a loss. It’s an a la carte menu, clearly, but extensive and all in french. Salade de poires pochées. Coquilles Saint-Jacques Gratineés. Filet au poivre vert. You’re scrutinizing the fine print of what all the dishes include when your waiter steps up to the table. You know when it happens, because Theo finally stops blathering about New York. 

You break your eyes away from the menu to glance at the server’s waistline, at eye level with you. He wears a crisply pressed suit and tie, his hands clasped in front of his belt. 

“Good evening sir, ma’am,” the server says in a hushed tone, to keep the volume of the dining room down. “Welcome to Sur La Table. I’m Steven, I’ll be serving you this evening. Before we begin, are there any questions about the menu?”

You peer up into the darkness to try to see Steven’s face. He’s standing just outside of the spotlight over the table, only able to be dimly lit from the indirect light reflecting from the tablecloth. Once your eyes adjust, they lock onto a pair of familiar hazel ones.

Oh my fucking god.

It’s got to be fate, or kismet, or some force of nature that keeps bringing you together like this. Steve Harrington’s face hasn’t changed in five years. Maybe he looks just slightly older, a little more filled out in his suit and tie. His hair is a bit shorter at the back but still that same shade of golden brown, neatly groomed and tidy for the formal atmosphere- but you can see it being tousled on his off days, still flopping across his eyes in waves. And those are the same lips you dreamt about kissing, the same eyes you admired in the school hallway, the same nose that you always wanted to grind o-

“No, I think we’re ready to order,” Theo announces, louder than necessary. You throw your gaze at him, your eyebrows raising despite your best efforts to remain calm. 

Is he really going to order for you? Just like that?

“Well, I was going to ask-” you begin, wanting to get a little more specification on how the filet is made, when Theo cuts you off.

“It’s okay, I speak French,” he insists. Not that it makes a difference to what your question was.

You press your lips together in irritation and glance at Steve, who looks back at you stoically. You wonder if he recognizes you like you do him- it’s been long enough, and you’re sure that you look a bit different than you did the last time you saw him. And then you notice the creases around his eyes.

He’s playing it off well enough, sure. But Steve is doing that same look that he did there in the Family Video five years ago, trying to pretend that he’s not affected by you, swallowing back his smile. He sends you a knowing look that says, What a fucking douchebag, am I right?

Suddenly, this date just got way more entertaining. You give Steve a minute roll of your eyes, only enough for him to notice. Tell me about it.

“We’ll start with the Bordeaux,” Theo is already reciting to Steve as you settle back in your seat. Steve pulls a little notepad out of his jacket pocket and begins writing. “For an appetizer, the coquilles. Then for the main, I’ll have the canard montmorency, and she’ll have the mignons de veau.” 

You watch Steve’s hand pause as he’s writing, and he looks to you. He raises his eyebrow, saying everything he needs to with the one gesture. Is that what you really want? “The veal?”

“No,” you say, digging your thumbnail into your palm, where it rests on your lap. “Actually, I wanted to ask about the filet. What brandy is the sauce made with?” 

Steve smiles, leaning a little bit closer to you. “We use Courvoisier.”

“Great. I’ll have that, please.” 

Steve nods encouragingly at you. As he jots down the order, he says, “Wonderful. I’ll get this to the kitchen for you, but before I can bring you the wine, I’ll just need to see the lady’s I.D.”

“Are you serious?” Theo snaps. 

“It’s all right,” you murmur, hiding your face as you dip your head to fish your I.D. out of your clutch. “He’s just doing his job. Right, Steven?”

Steve meets your eye as he takes the card from your hand. “You can never be too careful.” You watch him smirk as he looks over your I.D., his eyes lingering on your name for a second before he hands it back to you. If there was any doubt in his mind that you are who he thought, it’s gone now. “Interesting. We’re the same age.”

You laugh. Probably a little louder than is respectable, but you can’t help it. Leave it to Steve Harrington to remind you of the time you bought porn from him, while you’re on a date. 

You watch Steve write something else on his notepad, and rip the page out before folding it up. He tucks his notepad into his pocket as he says, “I’ll get this started for you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

“Thank you, Steven,” you offer just as he starts to walk away. 

Steve shoots you a sideways glance. “Always.”

Your heartbeat pounds in your chest as you turn back to your date. Theo looks disgruntled, but he just lifts his water to his lips.

“So,” you begin, “what do you do?”

“Marketing manager,” Theo says, with a click of his tongue. “For Bowman Wine & Spirits.”

“Oh,” you nod. “No relation, I suppose?”

“My father owns the company.”

“Right.” God, help me. 

Across the dining room, Steve watches you over his shoulder. His jaw sets as he sees you, the girl of his literal dreams, sitting across from some idiot who doesn’t even know that you don’t order for your date without asking her what she wants first, you fucking weasel. 

That’s all right. You seem to have the situation under control, for now. Steve watches you calmly sip your water, staring at your date but not listening to a thing he’s saying. 

Steve sighs. He’s never been much of a schemer, but he’ll just make sure that you won’t leave with this guy if you don’t want to.

His fingers brush the note in his pocket, and he pinches it just as he passes the front of house manager, Taryn. Without breaking stride, he slips the note into her hand, heading toward the back hallway and down to the wine cellar.

As Steve passes by, Taryn unfolds the note he slips her, and raises one eyebrow at the request he’s written.

I can see you in your suit and your necktie, pass me a note saying, “Meet me tonight.” Then we kissed and you know I won’t ever tell…

Overall, you enjoy Sur La Table immensely. The restaurant itself, anyways. The wine is wonderful. The atmosphere is great. The food is exquisite. 

You’re about to jump the waiter’s bones. 

Theo got his second wind sometime after the scallops arrived, and you think he hasn’t paused for breath since. You’ve been calmly eating your food, while Theo tells you literally everything about himself. It’s the best case scenario you can see happening on this date. You enjoy the food, mumble a non-committal acknowledgement now and then, and Theo entertains himself with his own voice the rest of the time. 

You’re gonna kill Shelly for setting you up with him, but that’s tomorrow’s problem. 

Right now, you’re focused on finishing your glass of wine while he talks about camping, of all things. 

“So we got up into the Rockies,” he’s telling you, gesturing with his hands like it’ll make you more engaged. “We ended up freezing our keisters off. No joke, I have frostbite scars.”

“That’s, um… that sounds like fun.”

“No, are you listening? I mean, it was terrible. We couldn’t move for, like, two days. And when the snow stopped we were so tired and cold, we almost died.”  

You knock back the rest of your wine with one gulp, and say with a sticky voice, “Wow. A near death experience must have been really scary, I’m sorry.”

Theo frowns. “No- I mean… It wasn’t… it wasn’t near death-”

“You just said-”

“It was more like a serious inconvenience, you know. But we pulled through. I wasn’t scared. A little snow isn’t gonna kill me,” he laughs incredulously. “It was just-”

Theo stops as Steve approaches the table. You catch him giving the back of Theo’s head the most murderous look imaginable before slowing to a stop and plastering an easy customer service smile in its place. “How did you find everything this evening?”

“It was fine.”

“The food was wonderful,” you tell Steve reassuringly. Your date, on the other hand…

“Yeeeah, could we get the check, please?” Theo asks, finally looking up at Steve. 

You watch Steve’s brow twitch, such a small movement you could have imagined it. “Certainly. But first-” from behind his back, he reveals two white gift boxes and places them on the table in front of you and your date, respectively. “We like to give each of our customers a signature chocolate truffle, as a token of our appreciation.”

Everything in you aches. “Oh, that’s nice. Thank you so much.” You look down at the box in adoration, thinking for a second that it might be the only time in your life that Steve Harrington gives you something similar to a ring box. 

“I’ll be sure to have our hostess come through with the check,” Steve adds delicately, making a gracious exit. His finger just slightly brushes your arm as he passes by- a dangerous move, but one that nearly electrifies your entire body at the single touch. You shiver as he says, “Have a lovely night.”

You watch Steve walk away from you, and your heart sinks into your stomach. You want to chase after him. The 18 year old you, who almost kissed him on prom night, is trying to claw its way out of your skin and bolt after him. 

When Steve disappears from view, you have nowhere to look but at your date. Theo opens the white box in front of him and pops a neapolitan colored truffle into his mouth. “Well, that was underwhelming.”

You don’t want to watch him chewing anymore, like a cow gnawing on grass. You sigh, running a frustrated hand across your forehead, and flip open the box in front of you. The top of it rears up like a clam shell, and you freeze, your fingertips suddenly sticking to the sweat beading on your brow.

You don’t have a neapolitan truffle- you have a single golden chocolate coin. You stare at it in shock for a second before you even notice the note pasted to the lid of the box. 

Meet me outside- the door past the bathrooms. 

“Aren’t you gonna eat yours?” Theo asks suddenly, as the hostess approaches holding the check. 

Your eyes snap up just as your heart shoots back up into your chest. “I think I’m gonna save it for later.” You flash him a smile as you close the box swiftly and shove it into your clutch. “Do you mind if I hit the bathroom real quick?”

“No, go ahead. I’ve got it.” Honestly, it’s the kindest thing he’s done for you all night. You might have to thank him some day. 

Once you’re out of your seat, you chase after Steve like a shot. Around a block of tables and into a tiled corridor, you walk past the kitchen doorway just as another server comes backing out, carrying a tray of dishes. 

There’s a door at the end of the hall, labeled exit. You never actually thought you’d be escaping a bad date through the back door; the notion was too clichéed, you thought that sort of thing only happened in movies. But you find yourself nearly running past the men’s and women’s bathrooms, until your hands slam down on the bar of the back door and thrust it open into the wind. 

The rain has picked up, more of a downpour than a light drizzle now. In your haste, you’d left your umbrella and coat with the coat check. Not that it would have been at all discrete if you’d gone to collect it before running towards the bathrooms. 

The door clicks shut behind you, and you gaze around in the dark. The alley behind the restaurant is only partially lit by a yellow street lamp, making it even more difficult to find him than it was in the dining room. “Steve?”  

You catch movement in the corner of your eye, and turn in the direction of the street lamp. Steve stands up from where he’d been sitting on an overturned crate- apparently the only accommodations the restaurant staff gets during a smoke break. The rain has already soaked into his hair, messing up the tidy style and turning it stringy, falling across his forehead, shining gold in the yellow light. He takes one last puff of the cigarette in his mouth before tossing it into the gutter, and he looks at you. 

He sees you. And it’s all you’ve wanted since the day he first walked into your geography class, freshman year of high school. There’s been some kind of a magnetic pull between you two for years. Something keeps bringing you together, it’s just never been the right time. Until now. 

Finally, you’re running towards him, and Steve’s arms finally come around you, pulling you against his body. Your hands find the back of his neck just in time for his lips to crash against yours. 

You had lost count of the amount of times you watched him kiss other girls in the hallway in high school- not just Nancy, but any and every girl he attached himself to (for a while, it seemed like he couldn’t make up his mind who he was dating at any given moment). All you knew was that it was never you, and you wanted it to be so desperately that it consumed your mind half the time. He looked like a good kisser, and you fantasized about going up to him and testing that theory for yourself.

But you never expected that his lips would slide over yours with an urgency that you could feel through to your very core, probably even more desperate for your kiss than you are for his. Steve’s fingertips press into your body through the thin fabric of your dress, holding you firmly to him like he’s afraid you might disappear on him again if he doesn’t absorb you completely. Your mouth opens with a soft gasp, and Steve’s tongue against yours tastes like tobacco. 

It happens so fast that you can’t even think- and you don’t really want to. You’re tired of thinking everything through, finding reasons upon reasons why it’s not a good time, why it’s a bad idea, why it won’t work. He moans into you, grabbing the side of your face as he stumbles with you to the wall, pressing you up against the side of the brick building. 

You meet his moan with a whimper of your own as his hand slides down over the curve of your ass, and he hikes up the skirt of your dress to grab at your skin with abandon. There’s a ferocity in Steve’s kiss that you don’t know what to do with, like he’s trying to stake a claim to you right there in the rain, with no one around to see it happen but the moths in the street light overhead. Not that he needs to- he’s already got you. You already chose him. 

Steve gives you room to breathe with a soft sigh, his forehead resting against yours. “Been wanting to do that since high school,” he admits, just loud enough for you to hear, before pressing a featherlight kiss just beside your mouth, and again to your cheek.

“Y-you fffucking-?” you gasp when he latches his lips around a sweet spot on your neck and sucks. “I had such a huge crush on you, Steve.”

“I know. I- I should have- I should…” Steve drops his head against your shoulder and groans when your nails rake against his scalp. “Fuck.”  

He grinds his hips up against yours, biting your lip as the hard length of his cock presses up against your core. “Gonna fuck me in this alleyway, Harrington?” 

“I’m seriously considering it,” he growls into your ear. His lips find yours again with a passion, his hand holding your jaw still. A hot breath escapes him, pouring over your skin and making you shiver. You’re lightheaded, so close to just letting him do it, too, when the back door of the restaurant swings open. 

Steve still takes a second to pull away, a little too absorbed in kissing you to really care who sees him do it. If he had his way, he’d have everyone see that you’re his- that you belong with him, and have for a long time. He finally glances over his shoulder to see one of the cooks, Liam, walking off in the direction of the employee parking lot.

“Where did you get the fucking doubloon?” you whisper into his ear, sounding so fucking adorable that Steve can’t help the lovesick look he gives you. 

He brushes his nose against yours. “I sent my manager on a treasure hunt.” You giggle, pressing your forehead up against his, and he can’t help but chuckle along with you. “I wanted to give you one at Family Video, that time.”

“I know,” you say, and he pulls back to look at your face. “I heard you yelling at your coworker in the back room.” 

Steve snickers and turns red with embarrassment, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You run your fingers through his rain-soaked hair, a content smile on your face as you feel him grin against your skin and shake with laughter. “Take me home, Steve.”

You don’t have to ask him twice.

What would you do, baby, if you only knew? That I can see you throw your jacket on the floor, I can see you make me want you even more…

The drive to Steve’s apartment downtown is made with light conversation and the heavy, heavy weight of his hand on your thigh, creeping up further with each mile. But aside from the implication of sex hanging in the air, it’s as easy as breathing, chatting about the night with him. Shitting on Theo.

“Did you notice the way he said coquilles,” Steve murmurs to you at a red light. “I thought he was gagging on something. He was just trying to impress you, you know.”

You grunt. Could’ve tried a little harder. “He didn’t even like them. He said he didn’t like shellfish,” you laugh in return as you lace your fingers through Steve’s. “Why the fuck would you order scallops, then?”

“The price.”

“The price.”  

It’s sweet, talking to him all the way to his apartment building, just catching up like old friends. He tells you that he’s going to culinary school now, and he’s been working at the restaurant for a little over a year, just to pay the bills.

“Culinary school? Really?” you say, with a note of awe in your voice. 

“Turns out I’m really fucking good at cooking,” Steve chuckles. “Who’d have thought? Maybe someday I’ll stop waiting tables and work back there in the kitchen.”

“I can see it,” you tell him softly. “I can see you being the world’s best chef. Three stars and everything.”

He scoffs, but a pink blush creeps up the back of his neck. “You have too much faith in me.” 

“Those are fighting words, Harrington.” You wag your finger at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?”

“You just want me to cook you something,” Steve tuts.

“Absolutely, I do.” You consider him for a moment, in the passing light of a streetlamp. “Am I that transparent?”

Steve tilts his head to eye you meaningfully, and he smirks. “Always have been, honey.” His thumb rubs a little circle on your thigh that has you squirming in your seat.

The first thing you see of Steve’s apartment is the kitchen, and beyond that the dormant living room, but you don’t get that far before you’re sidetracked. Steve throws his keys onto a drop station by the door, and pins you up against the refrigerator before you can even think to ask where to put your shoes.

Your clothes are still damp, your hair still pasted to your clammy skin. Steve’s lips are attacking yours and his hands are grabbing at everything he can touch, but it’s still not enough. He’s not able to feel all of you at once, and it’s driving him insane with every passing moment.

Steve roughly yanks his suit jacket off, throwing it onto the tile floor beside the kitchen island. “Lay down.” 

“What?” you whisper to him as he kisses your neck, guiding you away from the side of the fridge. “Here?” 

“Right here,” Steve states, not joking in the slightest. You wobble on your feet as you kick off your heels, but his hands on your hips keep you steady. “Been waiting too long for this- can’t wait anymore.”

“I- wwhuh-?” you gasp as Steve kneels in front of you, and your knees buckle involuntarily as he lays you down across his discarded jacket. Your hands grab his shoulders as you tumble backward, taking him with you. 

He face-plants into your stomach with a noisy, “Oof.” Cackling, you run your fingers through his damp hair, as he laughs and shoves his blushing face further against your torso. Steve litters your stomach with kisses, giggling against you with a note of nervous energy. He’s adorable.

You pet your fingers down the side of his face and he leans into the touch. “Can’t even wait long enough to take me to the bedroom?”

“Well, I would have fucked you in the alley,” Steve points out as his fingers breach the hem of your skirt and find your panties. He tugs as he says, “Be thankful I even got you home.” 

Your cheeks burn hot. You fidget, trying to press your thighs together to abate the throbbing ache between them. “Careful, baby. You’re starting to sound desperate.”

Steve pauses, his hazel eyes lighting up when they lock on yours. “Call me that again,” he requests, pressing a kiss to your ankle as he pulls your panties off your feet. He tosses them over his shoulder, but you don’t see where they land as he continues peppering kisses down your calf.

You hold his gaze. “Baby?” His eyes flutter, his lips parting as they drag up toward your knee. “You like when I call you that?”

“I like when you call me anything,” Steve admits. “But as long as you call me that, it means I’m yours.”

Your breath stutters in your chest. Steve Harrington is yours. It doesn’t matter if it’s just for tonight- what matters is that you have him now, and he wants you just as badly.

“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he murmurs quietly against your skin, his voice crackling with brimming need. He’s flushed, his cheeks pink and his hair drying in tousled waves over his forehead the longer he drags this out. 

Nodding your head, you reach down to lace your fingers through his, where they’re bunching your skirt up around your hips. “Yes, Steve.” Always have been.  

He turns his head and sucks a spot on your calf, just below your knee, resting your ankle over his shoulder. Still, despite your desperation, you nervously keep your thighs pinched together.

Steve tuts, “C’mon, baby, you’ve gotta spread your legs for me. You wanna let me see that pretty pussy, right?” 

Still clammy and cold with rain, the air on your exposed skin makes you shiver almost as much as his sweeping hands do when they gently part your thighs. You let go, let him take control as you still and keep your eyes focused on his face, because looking anywhere else would remind you that this is real, and not a dream.

Steve sighs, “There she is. Y’gonna let me taste you, sweetheart?” He bats his pretty eyes at you in a way that makes your heart stop dead in your chest. He can’t keep his mouth off of you, even for a moment, his lips and slight stubble dragging across your skin as he says, “Been wanting to forever, you won’t even believe-”

“Please, Steve,” you start to beg before he even finishes his sentence. “Please, my god, I- I just- I just want you so much-”

“Sh-sh-sh-shh.” His tongue licks wet and hot against your inner thigh before he whispers, “I’ve got you, baby. M’not going anywhere, I’m staying right here ‘til you cum.”

You’re instantly hot all over, your blood fucking boiling beneath your skin and your wet dinner dress. Steve’s fingers dig into the meat of your thighs as he yanks you toward his face, the fabric of his jacket beneath you audibly zipping along the kitchen floor. 

Steve dips his head, and his mouth closes over your cunt right at the same moment that yours falls open with a moan that won’t come out, because you’ve suddenly forgotten how to breathe. The noise stalls right at the beginning- your lungs stop working and you can’t seem to get them to start again, because Steve’s tongue is everywhere, dripping wet and gentle on skin that’s way too sensitive to handle it right now. Your hips try to jerk away from him in resistance, but he slams his hand down on them, holding you hard and still against the tile floor, his shoulders pushed up against the backs of your thighs to keep them open. 

Steve takes a break just long enough to grin evilly up at you, because he’s been waiting for five years to tell you to, “Breathe, sweetheart.”

“Fffffuck,” you manage to spit out finally, your voice cracking on the word like it didn’t even really want to put in the work to make it happen. Your breath comes back into your lungs all at once, rapid firing with a dozen moans for punctuation. Steve’s lips quirk against you, and he rumbles a noise of satisfaction against your pussy that makes you jolt in his hold again. “Steve…”

He pulls off of you with a slow, slow stroke of his tongue over your clit, making you whimper high and tight in your throat. “That’s it, baby,” Steve whispers, his breath fanning across your slick cunt, his left hand leaving your hip so that he can drag his knuckles teasingly through your swollen folds. “Feels good, doesn’t it? Feels so right.”

Two long fingers sink into you with ease, stirring the need in you to have him just simply destroy you. You moan loud, your hand shooting out and wrapping around the leg of a bar stool for the kitchen island beside you. 

“Poor thing’s just so sensitive, huh?” Your head arches backwards against the floor, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as he curves them with practiced accuracy. Steve’s voice is a deep murmur, distant thunder rolling over your nerves, “Relax for me, honey. You’ve waited long enough, just let it happen. Let me give you what you want.”

His lips shine when you look down at him, your hand reaching to run through his hair. Stifling a whine that threatens to come out when he kisses your clit and bends his fingers within you, you stutter out, “J-just want… I- ha-ah! Just want you.”  

Steve purrs. “I know.” The crisp white fabric of his shirt scrapes against your thighs, almost rough in comparison to his tongue flat on your pussy. You can hear the wet, salacious sound of his fingers pumping into you, pulling you toward the edge of oblivion. He hisses through his teeth, shaking his head slightly. “God, I’m so fuckin’ lucky.”

“Y-you-?” you manage a laugh, scraping your nails along his scalp lightly. “You’re lucky? You have n-no… fffucking idea-” You cut off with a sob when Steve wraps his lips around your clit, sucking long and hard enough that your leg twitches, your heel dragging up the back of his pristine white blouse. Your breathing picks up just as all your muscles lock down tight. “Jesus Christ-”  

“There you go,” Steve praises as your orgasm shakes your body, your hand gripping his hair so hard that he groans softly into your damp skin. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers, lewd wet noises picking up and echoing through the quiet kitchen. “That’s a good girl. Mmm , felt so nice to let go, didn’t it?”

You don’t know if he really wants you to answer that- you’re still twitching, coming down from your high as he pulls his fingers from your spasming cunt and sucks them into his mouth. The pause gives you a gentle reprieve, sinking back onto his suit jacket beneath you. Then, his mouth finds your pussy again, his tongue delving deep into your entrance and laving up to your sensitive clit. 

You gasp, throwing your hands down into his hair. “Steve-?!”

He moans in response. “Just needed to taste you some more, honey. Taste so fuckin’ sweet, I can’t get enough.” Steve relents, crawling up your body to hover his face over yours. “Still wanna see the bedroom?”

You nod excitedly, your hands finding his smiling face and stroking the hair away from his eyes. With a gentle kiss of his wet lips to yours, Steve gathers your still-wrecked body into his arms and carries you into his bedroom. 

He’s struck by how blissful you are as he sets you down on his bed, so soft and inviting. He encourages your arms up, his hands finding the zipper of your wet dress and finally, finally, pulling it over your head so that he can see you. All your curves and edges on display for him, after all this time imagining what he couldn’t see with the naked eye. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Steve repeats what he told you all those years ago at prom- he meant it then, and he means it now. Maybe even more this time, now that he’s not a stupid teenager, now that he finally has his head on his shoulders. 

You shiver against him when he unclips your bra- black lace that matches the underwear sitting in his entryway. A possessive part of him rears up, knowing that you’d worn them to a date with some asshole who couldn’t treat you right, even for one hour of the guy’s miserable life. Steve dips his head and kisses your breast, so much softer now than he was before, feeling your heartbeat against his lips.

“Hey.” You gently tug him by his tie, loosening it and his collar. You look into his eyes, and his heart melts. “Where’d you go just now, sailor?”

Steve blushes, his eyes flicking down as you remove his tie and start unbuttoning his blouse. “Just thinking...” he trails off, eyeing you thoughtfully. “Just thinking I could have missed you again if I wasn’t careful.”

“Mmm,” you hum, your hands smoothing up his chest and over his shoulders to get his shirt off of him. It drops to the floor with a whisper. “I don’t think so. I think this was meant to happen, eventually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You scrunch your nose cutely, in a way that makes Steve’s pants tighten even more uncomfortably across his hips. “We’ve run into each other too many fuckin’ times, baby. Karma’s on our side.”

He laughs. “Karma.” He shakes his head as he undoes his belt.

You quirk your brow at him as your hands fiddle with the fly of his suit pants. “Don’t believe me?” 

Steve grunts, shifting to lean over you. “I’ll believe anything you say when you’re taking my pants off, honey. I’m easy that way.”

Your nails rake through the hair on his chest- you can’t keep your hands off of him now that they’ve got him. You trace over two blotchy scars, one on either side of his torso that mirror each other. “What happened here?”

He blows a puff of air out of his mouth, rounding his cheeks as he shrugs. “Some… animals decided I looked really tasty, at one point. I know, they aren’t very pretty.”

Steve’s brushing over it like it’s nothing. You search his face, and you decide to do the same. “Actually, I think it’s kind of hot.” You drag your hand up to lay flat over his chest. You whisper conspiratorially, “Plus, I think you look really tasty, too.”

Steve quirks an eyebrow. “Y’gonna bite me about it?”

“Probably.” You wink. “Most likely.”

Your gaze falls indiscreetly to his cock, hard and flushed, glistening with precum and curving up toward his stomach. Girls talk, especially when they’re all trying to one-up each other; you knew that he was big. You’d heard the rumors. You’d seen him wearing those tight fucking jeans all the time, and you didn’t have to have much of an imagination to figure it out.

Still. It’s… a little overwhelming. You reach out a tentative hand, lightly wrapping your fingers around his base. They barely meet. Jesus Christ.

He groans, and kisses you until you can’t speak, resting his weight on top of you until you sink gleefully into the mattress. There’s a smile on your lips that transfers onto his, happiness and ease still flowing between you even as he grinds his hips up against yours. 

“Ready?” Steve murmurs softly into your mouth, stealing your breath when you feel his cock slide through your folds, hot and fat.  

“Dunno,” you tell him teasingly, but there’s an edge of reason to your words. Your hips squirm and you feel him even worse, slippery with your arousal. You whine. “I think you might kill me with that thing, Harrington.”

“I’ll go slow,” he whispers, hoarse in the back of his throat, his voice already shaking. “I’ll make sure you feel every bit of it, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you agree as you reach to line him up properly. “I’m all yours.”

Steve gives a relieved sigh as he slides into you, his head falling heavily to your shoulder. His cock aches, his torso shaking as he tries to steady himself. “Oh my god.”

“Baby,” you coo, choking on a moan when he bottoms out. He’s so thick- your nails dig into his shoulder blades as you try to remember how to breathe. It’s certainly a big stretch to try to fit him, but you can’t help wanting more just as soon as he comes to a stop. You can feel him trying to hold steady, holding himself back as though it’s the hardest thing in the world for him to do. 

Because it is. You can’t see it, the way that his brow is furrowed in concentration, his eyes screwed shut. He didn’t know it would be like this- that he’d be in danger of blowing it just as soon as he started. 

Your heel digs into his ass, and he doesn’t know if you do it purposefully, but he almost whimpers.  

You take a shuddering breath. “Please- please move, Steve, I can’t take it.”

Oh, you can’t take it? “You know what,” Steve says with a hint of strain in his voice, picking his head up to nuzzle his nose with yours, “I think you like me.”

You snort, and kiss him lightly. “What gave you that impression?”

“Y’so fucking cute.” Steve hums and sloooowly pulls his hips back, dragging his cock through your walls so deliciously that your toes curl. “Could be all those times you stared at me in class-” He watches your face as he pushes forward, until his hips are flush with yours and your head arches backwards against his sheets. “Could be when you nearly let me kiss you at prom-” Out. In. Steve runs his tongue up the length of your throat, and bites at your earlobe. He whispers, “Could be that you came on my tongue ten minutes ago.”

He picks up his pace, just a bit. Just enough to have the bed creaking under you with the rhythm, to have you moaning in tandem with him- needy and high pitched, leaping from your throat into the hot, sex-charged air.  

Steve’s lips latch onto your neck, and he sucks hard. He eases up after just a couple seconds, dragging his tongue over the sensitive spot, but you know what he’s just done- he’s marked you, right where you won’t be able to hide it in the morning. 

You want him to do it all over your body.

Your jaw goes slack and you’re losing all integrity. He’s even better than you imagined- sleepless nights wanting, hoping endlessly that you’d find yourself here, under him, couldn’t have prepared you for how perfect it feels. His hand finds yours and laces your fingers together, pinning it to the mattress beside your head, squeezing with every slow and purposeful thrust of his hips. 

Steve’s cock finds your g-spot like it’s nothing, like he’s known your body for ages. He barely even has to try before you’re whimpering, raking your nails up his back and leaving long red trails behind. 

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder and you bite, probably harder than you should, but you just can’t refuse the urge to mark him the way that he’s left his mark on you. He moans, a deep and boyish sound in your ear, as you drag your tongue along his shoulder, soothing the bite, tasting his sweat. The salt and the sweetness of his skin, mixed with the heady smell of sex in the room, have you losing yourself in him.

“Biter.” You hear him chuckle dangerously, rumbling along your skin while his nose skirts your jawline. 

“You’re so good, Stevie-” you whine, hot pleasure rearing up in you like a tidal wave. “Oh, you feel so fucking good, I love- love how you feel inside me.”

Steve groans loudly into your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone. You think he has a mind to bite you back- maybe he’d do it harder. You can see Steve drawing blood, when the mood suits him. 

But his hand squeezes yours, his other sweeping broadly up your thigh and hitching your leg up further over his hip. “Yeah?” His voice is rough, bordering on a growl, “What’d’ya say we stay like this forever, huh? Just like this?” 

His pelvis grinds up against yours, his pubes crushing against your clit making you gasp. Everything’s wet- your skin, his skin, the sheets. Sweaty bodies sticking and sliding against each other, your hips meeting his in the middle.

“Like this?” you gasp, your head reeling. His forehead presses against yours, and it’s just about the only thing bringing you back into focus. Steve doesn’t falter, keeping the same pace and rhythm while he watches you try to form a coherent reply. “Mm- I- I, hhuh-”

“C’mon, babygirl,” he breathes against your damp skin, “you can do better than that. You love my cock so much, you wanna keep it warm all the time? Wanna stay in bed with me forever, is that it?”

You nod fervently, your hands grabbing at his neck, his hair, his shoulder- anywhere you can touch. “Yes, yes. God, Steve, I- you’re gonna make me cum, shit-”  

“I know it,” Steve murmurs, tugging your lip between his teeth and making you whine again. Your cunt pulses around him, and he hisses, his hand slipping on your thigh. “Love seein’ you all drunk on my cock- shit, you’re so gorgeous like this.” He pauses to kiss you, making you lightheaded, making you tug at his hair. “Y’look so pretty under me, baby. Pussy feels so good, I wanna stay here, too. I can see us doin’ this for the rest of our lives, huh? How’s that sound?” 

How does it sound? You and Steve Harrington, together forever? Intertwined, knotted up with no way to lose each other, no disappearing and then reappearing years down the line?

“S’that a challenge?” you whimper shakily at him. “Throwing down the gauntlet?” 

“I don’t think I could let you go, now,” Steve tells you firmly, his hand leaving your thigh so that he can grab your jaw possessively, his tongue darting out to trace gently across your bottom lip. “I’m never gonna let you go, baby.”

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t want you to.”

“I hope so,” he whispers, his breath mingling with yours.

Steve kisses you long and slow when you cum. You swallow his moans when he does.

What would you? Baby, if you only knew that I can see you, oh, I can see you…

You almost think it’s a dream. When you rouse in the morning, you feel like you imagined it. But you’re surrounded by the scent of Steve, of musky cologne and sweat and sex, and maybe just a little bit of hair gel stuck to his pillows. 

You flop over and stare at the ceiling. You’re alone in a king size bed, fitted with gray sheets and a few too many pillows. The other side of the bed is still warm, but your paramour is nowhere to be found. His bedroom is fairly stark, with a few little things arranged on the dresser top and clothes thrown around the floor. It doesn’t feel like a room he spends much time in, aside from sleeping and dressing in the morning.

You immediately think about what this all means for you. Whether he really meant what he said in the heat of the moment, if he really wants this to be a long-term thing or if it was just pillow talk. It doesn’t take you long to determine which one you want it to be.

There’s commotion on the other side of the closed door. You lean over the side of the bed, searching for something to put on before you just waltz out there naked. Ultimately, you pull on his blouse from last night.

You emerge from the bedroom squinting against the light in the room. The blinds in the living room are open, casting bright sunlight across the room and into the kitchen. You find Steve in front of the stove.

“Hey, there she is!” he announces happily. “Just in time for breakfast.”

Steve looks so comfortable in the kitchen, moving around quickly and efficiently, whereas you tend to blunder about. When you wander over to the island, you notice he’s already picked up his suit jacket, and laid it across the bar stool next to the one you choose. 

Your underwear is nowhere to be seen.

You grin at his back, plopping down onto the bar stool. The metal is cold against your bare ass, nearly making you squeal and jump back up. “Is it a Sex on the Beach?”

He laughs gleefully. “Nah, if only. How was that, by the way?” 

“The ice cream, or the porn?”

He turns to grin at you over his shoulder. “Both.”

He’s wearing glasses. Round wire frames that complement his face perfectly, making him look distinguished in his gray sweats and black t-shirt. Just like that, you’re spiraling. Suddenly, you’re picturing yourself being here, with him cooking breakfast in his glasses and PJ’s every morning, on and on into the future. Doing domestic shit, grocery shopping, dancing around in the kitchen at 3 am, kissing in the rain- well, you’ve already done that one.  

But you can see it. That future, with him by your side, it’s right there. You just don’t know if it’s the one that he wants. You don’t really know how deep this runs for him.

Funny what just an accessory can do to your train of thought.

“Um.” You swallow. What was the question? “The ice cream was great. Still the best sundae I’ve ever had, by the way. The porn was bullshit, I didn’t get through twenty minutes. I just wanted to make you blush.”

“Brat.” He spins around, and plates an omelet right in front of you. You watch his face, tracing the easy smile he wears. “I hope you like it- but if you don’t, you better not say anything. I don’t think I could handle the pain of your rejection.” He looks up at you, hazel eyes shining gold in the sunlight. “You’re staring.”

“I-” you blink at him. You don’t fucking say. You open your mouth to ask- you want to ask what this is, what he feels, did he mean it. Do you want to do this again? Is this serious for you? Because it is for me, if you want it. You just don’t get that far.

“You’ve been staring since we were fourteen,” he chuckles, sliding you a fork. 

That startles you. “Well,” you click your tongue. “I didn’t realize you were looking so closely.”

“Oh,” Steve shrugs, turning to place the pan in the sink. “Just since freshman year. When you read Juliet’s monologue in English class. Remember?”

You tilt your head. Vaguely. It was just a class project, where each person had to choose a Shakespearean monologue to recite in front of the class. You thought he only even became aware of you senior year.

Romeo, doff thy name, And for that name which is no part of thee, Take all myself. 

“Are you telling me,” you say, palms flat on the counter as you peer at him incredulously, “you’ve liked me just as long as I’ve liked you?”

“Told you I’d get there, eventually.”

Your brain refuses to compute. You stare at his back, his tousled hair, and want to yank him toward you and squeeze him like one of those fucking squeaky toys that you get at the pet store. The ones the eyes pop out of.

Steve turns to you with a smirk, leaning across the counter to mirror you. He reaches forward to trace the mark he made on your neck, still tender, while mocking your pout back at you. His eyes crease at the corners, like they always do when he’s trying to be coy.

“Eat your breakfast, baby. We’ve got a lot to talk about.”

(I see you, I see you, baby.)

[honeytonedhottie]

HONEYS IT GIRL MAGAZINE may edition⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀

welcome back to honeys it girl magazine, this is the may catalog. get ready for the inside scoop on data that i've collected, things i've learned/started doing, and just general info like that organized in kind of a teen-magazine inspired fashion. a magazine for it girls ✨ and now please enjoy, the it girl magazine.

FOR THE WELLNESS GIRLIES ;

this month i discovered ballerina tea! and if u dont know what ballerina tea is, im going to put you on bcuz thats the whole point of the it girls magazine. the key ingredients in ballerina tea is senna and chinese mallow.

so essentially ballerina tea contains herbs that some cultures have traditionally used for a long time. its marketed as a weight loss tea but thats not all true. ballerina tea has a laxative effect and is really good for DETOXIFICATION and translate into lost weight in the form of water and stools.

while we are on the topic of consumption this is your reminder to eat ur fresh fruits and veggies! lets talk about ways to incorporate more fresh foods into our everyday diet.

if u like to snack, make fruits and vegetables more accessible for you. by prepping snacks before the cravings start, your snacking smarter.

start making smoothies or açai bowls as a rly yummy and easy way of getting fresh fruits daily.

make tasty veggie platters with home made sauces as a way to get in vegetables, or find a way to incorporate veggies into ur favorite recipes.

something that i did recently that has improved the quality of my diet is simply making some foods from scratch. for example i had a huge craving for fries, so i made home made fries and i can guarantee its 10X better then the processed fries that i would've gotten.

THE SCRAMBLE FOR SUMMER PLANS ;

school is FINALLY done. we are free to enjoy our hot girl summers! but now that school is done i find myself faced with the "now what?" question. no but seriously now what? no one wants to have a wasted summer, and ik u dont either so make sure to live up ur summer!

i did not take my own advice and i did not make preparations in advance for my summer so as of writing this post i have no plans, so im scrambling to make plans with my friends and set things up for myself. im planning out things like girls trips to the city, shopping trips, parties, dinners etc etc. and ofc manifesting for the vacation that i deserve.

HONEYS BEAUTY CORNER ;

SUPER EASY TANNING ROUTINE - tanning is one of the most important parts of summer! to start ur tanning routine, first things first set up a tanning playlist. my tanning playlist consists of songs like espresso by sabrina carpenter, nasty by tinashe, and turn it up by pink pantheress.

next apply some SPF to protect ur skin from the hot sun and apply some tanning oil if u have it. something else important to remember when tanning is to cooldown after tanning so keep some aloe vera gel on hand to avoid burning. we wanna TAN not burn.

tan the front then the back (each in 10 minute intervals) by the time ur done each side should tan for about 20 minutes each. so it'd be something like (front - 10 minutes, back - 10 minutes, front - 10 minutes, back - 10 minutes)

afterwards COOL DOWN with some swimming, some aloe vera, have a tasty mocktail/cocktail, apply some tanning oil and repeat the process one more time.

SMELLING LIKE THE BEACH - if u wanna smell like the beach, go to the beach. but if u wanna have the same effect i recommend the following products : the watermelon and coconut scented tree hut scrubs. the maui hair products. cabana girl body wash from philosophy. the bum bum body scrub. sol de janeiro rio radiance. ;

DIONNE FROM CLUELESS - STYLE DISSECTION ;

dionne is my absolute favorite character in the clueless movie and show for a MULTITUDE of different reasons. she is the embodiment of black femininity, girlyness, and she just exudes the lavish energy that we all know and love!

lets start off by talking about the way that dionne styles her hair. dionne's hair is so healthy, bouncy and absolutely GORGEOUS. she frequently styles her hair with things like headbands and clips. i've seen her in lots of different hairstyles and she always EATS.

dionne isnt particularly drawn to one specific color, the colors that she wears ranges depending on her outfit but everything is so well put together. one of dionne's most ICONIC looks is her unforgettable burgundy velvet dress with some white detaling.

[yellowocaballero]

You played the golden deer route!! (I think?) What's been your thoughts so far just like in general but also in comparison to blue lions? Claude and the golden deer are just so fun!!

I have not finished yet! Yes I am like 5/6ths done with the Golden Deer fic. I did something that I really shouldn't do, which is like consume 1/4th of the media and go "okay I could make a fanfic out of this" and then write a long-ass fic just based off initial impressions (this is how Theater of the Absurd happened - if you're wondering why everybody was so drastically out of character, that's why). I'm still only mostly done with the Academy phase, so no spoilers!

Thoughts so far? Claude is so funny. I am genuinely so, so fascinated by him. He's one of those characters who clearly has an entire existence and situation and insanity and you're just barely privy to the surface of it. Our C support is me walking into his room (why did I do that?) as he concocts poisons. He's a mad scientist. He wants to dissect his friends like they're insects. He's incredibly self-absorbed. He's convinced he's the smartest person in the room. He's on his gap year and he's taking a vacation with the white people and the country he leads is not his biggest priority. He wakes up in the morning, looks at himself in the mirror, and says "I'm a SCHEMER I'm a TRICKSTER I'm IMPENETRABLE I'm NOT LONELY". He has a biracial narrative and it's left him with a superiority complex because the alternative is to always be inferior. He'd be a better leader if he cared more.

I love Hilda also. She's so cunning but so kind, and her competence is underlined by her severe self-esteem issues. I haven't really connected with most of the Golden Deer - their ensemble narrative is not NEARLY as strong as the Blue Lions or Ashen Wolves. They aren't all part of the same story, I feel like. I'm still working on their supports (which are mostly C and some B right now...I kinda substituted most of them on the battlefield for the AW...sorry I have faves). Most of them are either a little annoying or uninteresting...Lysithea baby girl...Lorenz is actually deeply Felix coded in that he's kinda the sanest. He cares about all of the actually important things that nobody else cares about when they really should, and a lot of unimportant things,

I didn't expect this to happen, but Claude as your BFF actually deeply underscores how 1) Dimitri is insanely in love with you, and 2) Dimitri's bugfuck. Claude's so normal about everything. Makes me go "Wow Dimitri was normal about fucking nothing".

I'm looking forward to the War Phase and seeing how things change. These kids are fucking disasters in their lives and to each other, which mirrors their disaster country. Right now Claude's the most fascinating aspect to me. I'm not plugged into the fandom, but from what I can see his complexity and depth is kind of slept on - he has a comic relief role in dynamics, but I can already tell it's pretty constructed. Writing him as a jokester is like writing Dimitri as a preppy, perfect, adorably awkward nerd. Yes, that is a major part of how they present themselves to the public. I can't entirely call it a lie. But if you think that those performances are genuine, then you're buying what they're selling. Claude, Dimitri, and Edelgard are liars, and if you stay surface level in your depiction you're scrubbing out what makes them good characters. Also, especially in Dima's case, The Point

[clare-with-no-i]

you've said before that you don't want to try converting theogony into a published book, would you mind explaining why? just curious! thanks :)

I mean — sure! the short answer is that it was written to be a fic, and I don’t think it’s up to snuff to be published at all. I mean I don’t think I write at publishing level in general but that’s another discussion lmao (and I don’t say that to be self critical it’s just true! I am a hobby writer who writes hobbily! I don't really spend as much time honing my writing!)

more under the cut!

to elaborate on that, though: I think, personally, that there’s an inherent tension between what a good fic and what a good traditionally published novel are supposed to accomplish. fic is supposed to harken back — in however abstract a manner the writer chooses — to a canon concept or subject. if your main characters are unrecognizable (read: your own intellectual property), then it’s probably not great fic. there is a point of reference for creating the characters and setting that puts constraints on the ability to be original.

there’s also so much shorthand that goes into writing fic that could potentially leave narrative and world-building gaps in an original novel. and this is absolutely rampant in theogony lol. for instance, I make very passive mention to Petunia and Lily’s strained relationship, and it ends up being a significant factor in Lily’s final decision in the story, but I don’t take time to dissect exactly what happened, because I don’t need to. everyone who reads Jily generally has their own conceptualization of how Petunia and Lily’s relationship fell apart. I can just mention Petunia and/or Vernon and it evokes a relatively universal emotional reaction from the reader.

I think even intrinsically with James and Lily, I tend to be very liberal with how romantic they are with each other in my stories. even when they’re not together, I tend to make mention of one when writing the other. part of that is of course for fun of seeing people react to it, but part of it is also because (I tend to think) so much of fic consumption is predicated on not seeing them as individual characters, so much as a couple who the writer has temporarily split apart for the purpose of getting them back together. like, that’s the big emotional payoff of romance / couple-centric fic. there’s less narrative tension because we know in the end (or we should, if it’s tagged correctly lol) generally how the romance shapes up.

I think that also creates situations (for better or worse) where we as readers make excuses for our favorite characters because we come into the story already cherishing them, already knowing that they ‘get the girl’ so to speak. like I think it's very typical fic consumption behavior to give a pass to a character's bad behavior where you wouldn't in a published book because you've spent hours upon hours reading about how they're the most special perfect little blorbo of all time.

so, yeah! there’s the long, long answer haha.

now, to be ABSOLUTELY AND COMPLETELY CLEAR: this does not apply to all fic!! some people write fic like it’s an original work and that is great!! some people are much better at avoiding shorthand and fleshing all of their characters out and I applaud them!!! and I am absolutely not saying that you can’t successfully convert a fic to a published book. that’s not what’s happening here. I just personally probably would avoid it FOR MY OWN STORIES because of the reasons listed above. I know a lot of people have done it before, quite well, and will continue to — and to that I say, hoorah! that is awesome!! this is all my own self-reflection.

thanks for the question!

[leahrilkeapologist]

  personally i love how leahs investigation pans out because she is wrong. she knows something is up and assumes it is shelby because of her disappearing act, which instantly robs her of credibility from the other girls. i as a viewer knew it wasn't shelby because itd be too easy for her to be the operative because shes the one who always found the bags, and i knew it was nora the second that jumped her during her screaming match on the beach. ( i had suspected bc of her apologizing to rachel for seemingly nothing and keeping a meticulous log, however.) leah sees this as nora being nora because her deescalating situations and keeping unnecessary information are both very in character and have been shown throughout the season. plus, leah was the only one to hear the phone ring, as well as the one to drop the decoy phone in the ocean which was meant to give credence to the assumption that the ju lin would say she didnt have her phone on her. 

  the agents try to manipulate leah by saying that her overcuriostity gave her trouble, and that it was inherently a fault that needed fixing. which is half true, because it made her convince herself her best friend sent her old ass boyfriend the birth certificate (which may or may not be true). her true fault isnt her curiosity, but her predisposition to jumping to conclusions and impulsivity, ie breaking off her friendship pre island, fighting with fatin, and accusing shelby. with fatin its not that the other girls think that leah is wrong (in fact i think they agree that fatin is being a bad teammate in all this) its that she escalates the sitution to such a degree that she could have gotten fatin killed. with shelby, her disappearing act would seem shady to an already suspicious leah, who jumps the gun out of impulse and accuses her, which doesn’t check out to the other girls because its know shelby disappears off when she gets overwhelmed (oyster scene, pill scene, kiss scene, accusation scene, alcohol scene) in order to come back and act unbothered. in addition to her alibi of dentures, leah is seen as once again being explosive and unstable.  when she fights with rachel in the forest about fatin, and refuses to give up looking for her, it is shown how stubborn she is and that once she gets attached to an idea she cannot let it go (her boyfriend, best friend betrayal, something being up, fighting over the water, finding fatin, trying to drown herself) her fixations can be her strength, too, because it leads to them finding fatin alive and is what keeps her investigating past what others are willing to. 

  she isnt the only one suspicious, namely fatin, but is the only one who fixates to this degree. fatin believes somthing is up but knows leah is acting erratically, and fatin is much more methodical and calculated then that. dot is busy organising everything and keeping eveyone alive and doesnt want to give leah credibility beacuse she might do something crazy if her ideas are validated. shelby by the point of the bunker is OBVIOUSLY suspicious (you were right note) but a) leah accused her b) she is having her own crisis and c) always pushes down the negative to retain her camp counselor-esque pagentry persona. nora is a) the mole and b) protecting her sister, so she tries to be the peacekeeper to dispell any further questions. marty tries to see the good in everything and everyone despite being proven otherwise and would be in denial of being taken advantage of. toni is explosive but not obsessive and lives more in the short term then thinking in any long term conspiracies. rachel is just as obsessive and explosive, maybe even more so then anyone else, but she is obsessed with diving and athletics, and doesnt have time or energy to think about anything or anyone else. as each character explores these traits and weaknesses, they learn more about themselves and thereby open up the opportunity for them to realistically start to question their environment to the extent leah has, which is the perfect point to start off season two. 

so the TLDR is that leah is obsessive and compulsive to a fault therefore both losing credibility in her ideas and being the only one to take a conpiracy that far. however character growth from all the characters lends itself to the idea that by season two they will have to use their newfound bonds and work together, because all of their character flaws are complimented by others’ strengths perfectly to the point of them becoming dramatic foils for eachother.

and yes this is why leah is my favorite character closely followed by the other 7 lol thx bye

[no-droids]

Ch 17 was so, so, so good (thank you!!) 🥺 i am still processing. ((Edit: this turned into an essay so i Am Very Sorry in advance, there is a tldr at the end though))

First of all. We get to see Din going through it the same way sweet girl was a couple chapters ago and I love it! She’s been so clear from the start that she doesn’t want to run away from him and now Din’s getting to the point where he doesn’t want to chase her anymore because he just wants her to be physically there with him again. The second night of comms while she’s camped out at the orphanage?? “I thought this was going to be alright, but I hate it.” ??????????? i am a Puddle of Emotions no one look at me 😭

And then the way he’s so unsure about whether she hasnt begun to reconsider wanting to keep up with his bounty-hunter life now that she’s finally gotten a break if being forced to outrun a mandalorian can be really even be called a break for the first time in a year?? And he can SEE all the places she’s stopped to talk to people on this planet (his comment about the number of times the blond guy turned around to talk to her in the line? 🥺.) Din knows she’s enjoying these small encounters with people, getting to interact with a new planet and learn new things as she’s making her way through each place, and since they’re only talking at night he gets to think about it literally all day long as he follows her trail and tries to figure out what her plan is. This is truly an exercise in Din thinking nonstop about sweet girl (which ofc he does already, but like, thinking critically about what she thinks/wants/does/needs and why) and I feel like that’s causing him to slowly start to second guess himself in terms of where he would put himself on sweet girl’s list of priorities. And I wonder how much of this he’s actually considering for the first time? because it’s always him who leaves and comes back when he gets jobs — this is the first time that sweet girl has left him instead of the other way around. Sweet girl has had tons of time to think about these things, whereas Din hasn’t really had to... because it’s not the one who leaves who feels the absence most, it’s the one who’s left behind (even if just temporarily).

I can just picture Din’s increasing doubts as the chase keeps going, whether he’s worth putting up with his lifestyle and whether sweet girl wouldn’t rather have a life like the people he sees in the footprints around hers? because he knows her, knows she likes soft beds and meeting people and fresh fruit and beautiful scenery, which are all things that living on the razor crest can’t always provide except for the last one bc Din Djarin IS beautiful scenery let’s be clear and just. the ANGST. I cannot. ( a n d meanwhile sweet girl is having a breakdown thinking he wants to STOP looking and LEAVE her? As if)

So when she shuts down his tentative doubts about it on the second night she’s at the orphanage and Din starts asking questions about favorite animals and flowers and things?? 🥺🥺🥺🥺 I lost it. Din is mirroring the love and care he receives from sweet girl (and learning to tap into those emotions as he does) and I am just in awe of both his character development from ch 1 to here and your ability to show that gradual shift in your writing.

Tl;dr thank you very much for this latest chapter! I will continue to be a soft emotional little puddle for the foreseeable future, or at least until I can figure out to scrape myself off the floor and function like a human being who has not just read rough day ch 17 and promptly dissolved as a direct result🌻

okay

okay first of all ma’am/sir/friend, please do not put tl;dr’s on a fucking MASTERFUL DISSECTION LIKE THAT like I genuinely hope people read every word of what you have written because you’re so spot on about everything that I was almost taken aback JEJFJJDJFJF

I would like to say, and I need to do this in list form because you have presented so many beautiful points that I’d like to address them one by one,

1.) Din Djarin is used to being alone. Full stop. Like even with sweet girl helping out with the baby and agreeing to stay on the ship while he goes and grabs quarry, he’s gone for weeks sometimes. He is used to being by himself, to fending for himself, protecting himself, patching himself up, EVERYTHING by himself. He is the most independent self-sufficient driven bounty hunter Karga has on the payroll and he’s reliable, which is why Karga would give him four pucks at a time. Giving anyone else four pucks would mean that if they happened to die during their hunts, then more than one puck would be lost and that’s money down the drain. Din doesn’t die, he always comes back with all four bodies and he’s fucking quick about it. Him telling sweet girl “I thought this was gonna be alright” is apt, because he’s been able to exist without her and do good work while he knows she’s safe on the Crest. In fact, the only time he EVER didn’t do good work is when a) she was attacked on the Crest on Corellia, or b) when he desperately wanted to get back to her as quick as possible and he pushed himself too hard and put himself in danger (aka frozen on Hoth scene). And actually c) when he stole Grogu back from the empire and had Karga and the guild on his ass about it. Those were the only times Din had trouble doing his job. The only times he stopped looking and gave up. “I thought this was going to be alright, but I hate it” means that YES ABSOLUTELY DIN DJARIN DOES NOT LIKE STAYING PUT WHILE SHE LEAVES, even though he’s okay with going out and doing his job when she stays. Even though he’s still hunting, it’s like the roles have been reversed. She’s understanding his side, and he’s understanding her side. It’s been 4 days and he hates it, so imagine weeks or months of that. Not being able to move or chase after her either, just hanging out on the crest with Grogu and waiting to see if she’ll be able to make it back. Which

2.) makes it hurt just a lil more in that wonderful delicious angsty way when he actually asks if she wants this life. On Naboo, he didn’t know where she went or where the kid was—he didn’t know if they were in danger, if she was safe. He said he’d rip the galaxy apart to find her if she ever disappeared like that again. But... she’d be safe on Sanctuary II. This is different, and just like you said, he’s had multiple days where all he did was try to think like her. Get in her head, predict her. Understand her more than he’s ever attempted to do before, in a NECESSARY capacity, like he would a bounty he’s hunting. Din Djarin is used to being alone. He’s used to being silent and that’s how connections are severed before they can even be established. His only practice at empathy was through his job, a job that he is very very good at, but it was never enough to get him to stop looking. He would never be able to empathize enough to ask if the bounty wanted him to stop looking for them. Even with the baby, he turned him in at first and then let the guilt eat him alive before going back to save him. So, if you couple that with his true connection to sweet girl, the natural empathy he has for her and the kid (him immediately following her after he accidentally snapped at her on the Crest and apologizing) and Din is now TRULY beginning to understand her on a level he’s never experienced with another person

3.) BUT!!! Even though he “needed to ask” (meaning he understood enough to know that asking the question was necessary) he started out the entire conversation by admitting he doesn’t think he could do it. Before ever telling her what specifically he doesn’t think he could do, he already knows this about himself and says it flat out. I don’t think I could. Even if you asked me to, even if you said you’d be happier if I did, even if you told me right now that it’s what you wanted, I don’t think I could ever stop looking. And a lot of the turmoil he experiences is because of that. I make you sleep on the floor. I teach you to fight when you just want to look at waterfalls. I do all these things that you’d never willingly do yourself, and I’m a bad person BECAUSE I still want you to always be here with me in spite of all that.

4.) Meanwhile sweet girl just has no fucking clue all this is happening and it seems to come out of nowhere, all she knows is that he’s been in the city when he should’ve caught up to her days ago. She’s out experiencing things and meeting new people and yet she always comes back to Din and the baby and how much they should be here with her. She tries to come up with clever ways to outthink him but she also offers to give her coordinates to him practically every single night. Her wanting to be with him so bad but trying to hold out (“ask me again tomorrow”) while Din is also wanting to be with her so bad and also trying to hold out (“find her again tomorrow”) 🥺

So yeah basically in conclusion I love them together and they’re so different but they make each other somehow both stronger and softer in so many ways and yeah u mighta heard of DD/LG u kinky fucks but lemme present to u DD/SG

[talkfantasytome]

'Twas Never Meant to Be - An Opinion

I have a lot of thoughts about this, and really need to get them out. So, let's talk about Elain and Azriel.

First off, I want to warn you, this post is a beast. Like, over 7.5k words beast. It just kept going. I'm sorry, but I didn't know what to take out and, honestly, I didn't want to spend a lot of time heavily editing it. Tread knowingly. I will not be offended if anyone chooses not to read it, or not to read it all.

Secondly, I want to say that this post is not meant to be a pro-Gwynriel or pro-Elucian post. Regardless of my personal ships, I want to explain why I, personally, do not believe Elain and Azriel would be right for each other. And these reasonings go far beyond "because I'd prefer them with someone else". In fact, these beliefs and feelings are first and foremost in my mind when considering all three of these ships, and any feelings I may or may not have on other ships are always second to my belief that they would not be right together. I will do my best to keep Gwyn and Lucien out of the comparison, unless using them as a way to point to something that would be wrong between Elain and Azriel - versus stating any reason why the other would be right.

The first two reasons I will share are ones I have been holding on to for quite a while, and have only become stronger with more content (Silver Flames). I have, personally, not seen much around these two thoughts, but recognize that they may be out there already, as there is no new thought under the sun. So, here goes:

Step Away From the Characters

Honestly, my first reason really has nothing to do with the characters themselves at all, but it's something I can't get out of my head. It's a personal thing, I know, as everyone might see it differently, but I can't help but feel like the three brothers ending up with the three sisters would be too perfect, too convenient.

I know that it's a shit argument when talking about an SJM book, and the more I read about the series, and the more books that come out within it, the more I recognize this. It makes me sad. But personally, I can't get behind this storyline, this ending that is so perfect it makes my skin crawl. It's not how life works, and it doesn't really make sense. If it were three adoptive sisters, as the bat boys are, it would actually make more sense, because it would stand to reason that you would have a two groups that mirror each other. That one girl who mirrored Rhys, let's say, then befriended to the point of sisterhood ones that mirrored the boys that Rhys befriended to the point of brotherhood. But Nesta, Elain, and Feyre are sisters by blood, not by choice, and so it isn't an automatic that they would be that reflection to the boys. And even though the boys lived together, and weren't fully brought together by choice as much as Mrs. Rhys's mother, they still chose to stay together and be brothers.

We have never, not fully, seen the Archerons make those same choices. These boys live together (or used to), work together, truly share their lives. The Archerons don't. The girls were disconnected before becoming Fae, and they are still disconnected after it. You see it more clearly with Nesta, of course, trying to stay away from the group, stay separate. But you see it with Feyre and Elain too. You see how Elain practically gives up on Nesta, and how Feyre discredits and dismisses Elain as anything more than just a kind soul who likes to garden. You can't, for two seconds, convince me that the Archerons have as similar or as bonded relationships to each other as the bat boys, and that alone tells us that we should not expect them to mirror the boys.

I would also like to note, looking back at the characters for a second, that it has been observed by others how Feyre and Nesta do seem to have similar energies a lot. On top of that, you could argue that Nesta mirrors all three bat boys in one way or another. It's one theory as to why she and Rhys struggle so much with each other, because they're too similar. And, you can't convince me that Az and Nesta don't share a bond because of their own similarities. Nesta's fire was cold as ice. Rhys once observed Azriels rage as an 'icy rage'. I don't think I need to mention how Nesta mirrors Cassian, but it's there too. So, the fact that she would be the sister who ended up with a mate from the Night Court, one of these three brothers, just made a lot of sense. But Elain, who is so different from her sisters, she doesn't have that same energy. It's not a bad thing, but it helps make sense why she would be the one with a mate from outside this Court.

Beyond this, however, I still struggle with the three and three come together concept. And that's coming from someone who actually has, within her family, a story of two brothers marrying two sisters - my great grandparents (or great great, I can never remember). So, I know stuff like this does happen, though admittedly my only experience is with two and two, and naturally I do believe that the likelihood of the full group being with the full other group goes down with each additional number. Regardless of that, though, it is an author's job to tell a story that we can connect to, and having such convenient and perfect endings makes it difficult to do just that. Because life isn't like that.

So I struggle with the concept of this. Like I said, the more I get to know these books, this series, the more I understand that this is not a great argument for why Elain and Azriel aren't endgame considering how other things have played out, but I still think it's a good argument for why they shouldn't be. However, I would also say that the argument that they will end up together because it's three brothers and three sisters is completely off base and illogical, for reasons I've mentioned above. What is the purpose of that? How does that drive the plot and the story and world? How does it connect us to them better? It doesn't. All it does is be just a convenient little bow that has no true purpose, unless there is true purpose as to why each sister ended up with each brother. And I don't really see a purpose as to why Elain would end up with Az except that they're both the last sibling, and that they currently like each other. But that doesn't mean they're right for each other, and I don't see how them being together will spur the story and the world forward the way Feyre and Rhys did, and the way Nesta and Cassian can and/or will.

As someone who dabbles in writing, I have thought about these types of things, and I'm always adjusting plans and thoughts when I realize I've gone into that too perfect la la land, and I'd like to believe that all writers do that. SJM has had some convenient endings, but I will say I've not yet felt like any ending was just too perfect. The closest was, of course, ACOWAR. But even then, you still had threads, misunderstandings, questions, and things you weren't happy about. Yes, the ending felt a bit perfect, but we still lost the Bone Carver, Mr. Archeron, the Suriel, etc. There were still things that made it less than completely perfect. And much of what was done in the ending did move this story forward, and provide the opening for what we are now getting. And, in the same vein, I like to think that SJM would recognize how this would be too much. But, I don't hold out a lot of hope on this reasoning alone, it's really just something I had to get off my chest.

Share Life With Me

This next point is huge for me, in my mind. Again, it is based off of my own personal opinions of some characters, as well, so I do understand that some people may not agree with this argument. That's fine, but you will not sway me.

It all comes down to one thing. What does Az want?

In the Az POV chapter we are finally told, out right, that he does want Elain. But, my question - does he really?

I have been thinking about this since long before Silver Flames, since we all knew Az had a crush, but it wasn't as cemented until Silver Flames came out, and we saw how Nesta and Cassian would develop as a couple. Because, and here's the kicker, I don't believe Az actually wants Elain.

Yes, you read that right. I know he thinks he wants Elain. I know he believes she's kind and beautiful. And I recognize that there was a sexual tension there - I'm not blind. But I don't believe that Elain is the end goal Azriel is actually looking for.

I believe that she is a representation of that end goal.

This mostly comes down to his conversation with Rhys, his belief about the Cauldron:

"The Cauldron chose three sisters. Tell me how it's possible that my two brothers are with two of those sisters, yet the third was given to another." He had never before dared speak the words aloud.

Okay, first - Az, please see point above. Also, I can't help but feel like SJM put that in here almost to show that this isn't actually a valid argument.

Second, let's dissect that argument for a moment. Now, perhaps Az is just trying to find what he considers a more 'objective' reason for why Elain should be his, why they should be together. However, if that were the case, then why would he have never dared speak those words aloud? Most likely because he knows it's not a solid argument, and logical Az knows this. But this is 2 AM, you just stopped me from kissing the girl I fancy Az, and he definitely is not being his most logical self.

It's also not a logical or good argument because of one simple word. Given. "…the third was given to another." Az, you're better than this. I truly want to believe you're better than this. I understand that the mating bond is weird, and inherently at least slightly sexist, but that doesn't give any male the right to really look at it that way. Especially when you consider the explanation that the mating bond will be present between two perfect equals. This is seen in ACOMAF when Feyre can't believe Rhys would be her mate, because that's what it would mean, that she's his equal. This also paints Elain as an object, which, no matter what anyone's feelings are toward the character, is not okay. She is a person. A fictional one, but still a person, she cannot be given unless she chooses to give herself. The Cauldron simply dictated who it believes is best for her, and vice versa. I'm not saying the Cauldron was right, or that she and Lucien would be good together, but that's what the mating bond is. To argue that the Cauldron was wrong because two brothers got two of the sisters, but the third was given to another is inherently wrong, because Elain cannot be given away.

It also shows that maybe Az really isn't truly seeing Elain for who she is, if he is thinking of it this way. I do believe that Az is a feminist, or, at least, more of a feminist than most of the males in Prythian (which, sadly, doesn't seem to be saying much). So I don't believe this is a comment based on a sexism in Az we haven't seen yet, I truly don't. I believe that it is a comment made by someone whose judgement is clouded, and who is, as I stated earlier, using Elain as a representation of what he's really looking for. He seems to idolize her, put her on a pedestal, believe that she is all light, all good. (Az, please see my previous post on that little nugget.) He objectifies her not because he truly believes she is an object, but because she has become a symbol in his mind - she is not the person Elain to him. She is the one he should have, the one who will bring him what he wants. Note I didn't say the one he wants. Whenever a person puts another on a pedestal the way Az has with Elain, whenever someone idolizes them, or believes that said person will fix all of their woes, they are subconsciously objectifying them. That being is no longer seen as a true person, with all the flaws and struggles and ugly parts. They are something else. And those types of feelings about another person never end in a good relationship, because at least one side is always expecting too much from the other, and they rarely learn to cope with what they didn't expect. And, for the record, you should never really be 'coping' with your partners flaws, but that's a conversation for another day.

Beyond being not a truly logical argument, and showing us how Azriel has actually objectified Elain in his mind, I also believe this statement gives us insight into what Az actually wants. He could have said a number of things to express a belief (or desire) that the Cauldron was wrong. He could have talked about his feelings for Elain. About how he thinks their personalities are too compatible for them to not be rightfully mates. Pretty much, he could have said something about Elain, and how they are right together because of who they are.

But he didn't.

Instead, Az brought up his two brothers and their mates. How they each got one, so surely the third should be his. And why did he do this? Again, maybe 2 AM Az who had lost his logic just thought this was an objective reason. But I think there's more to it than that. I think he brought up those other relationships as a way to point toward what it is he really wants. Because that's what's on his mind. It's not that Elain is perfect for him, that she is everything he could have ever hoped for in a female. It's that she is the sister of his brother's two mates, and he wants what his brothers have. So, clearly, that must mean that it's Elain who can give him that.

Again, Az, please read my first point. Because that's not a guarantee just because they're related.

Now, I imagine most people are saying, "Well, duh. We all know he wants what they have. He said so earlier on in the chapter." And he did:

Azriel couldn't stop it. The envy in his chest. Of Cassian, and Rhys.

So, it's not new. But, this argument he provided highlights that so specifically. He wants what his brothers have. Not a mate, per se. No. What they have.

But, wait, a mate is what they have. What are you saying?

Yes, a mate is what each of them have. But, as we know, not all mates are perfect for each other. Rhys and Feyre, and Cassian and Nesta are both examples of how right the mating bond can be. But, let's instead look at what they both have, in points, instead of just saying they have a mate. Here are, from my interpretation, the main common aspects of these two relationships:

Love. Sure, Nesta and Cassian hadn't said it yet. But, yes, they love each other, they're just both stubborn and scared and maybe not ready to say it.

Heavy sexual attraction and chemistry. This may not always be the most important piece of a relationship, but it's blatant in both of theirs, and it's clear that Az wants that as well. Which is fair.

Friendship. It's hard to see it at times, because these books are so much about the romance, but I do believe that both couples are truly friends who like to spend time together. Who can have fun together. We don't get to see this enough - and I do wish we saw more of it - but it is there. It's there when Cassian throws his head back laughing at something Nesta said. Or when Rhys is thrilled when sassy Feyre appears. And yes, it is in part the mating bond, making them want to be near each other, but they still enjoy that time together. Mates who aren't right for each other wouldn't.

True partners. In these two relationships, they are more than just each other's mate, lover, friend. They are and/or are becoming partners. In their relationships, Rhys and Cass have found a female who they can share their lives with. Completely and fully. In Feyre, Rhys has found a High Lady, a female who is his true equal, who can rule the Court with him. They work together, plan together. And Rhys can come home at night and tell her everything about his day. In Nesta, Cass has found someone who, I believe, will grow to command with him. Likely female units, but she is still mirroring Cass in that way. She may not become his true equal in terms of being Commander of the Night Court, but she would still be his partner. He will still be able to strategize with her, the two working together to determine where each unit will go. He will command the Illyrians, and by his side she will command the Valkyries. And he can come home, at the end of the day, and tell her everything about his day.

It's this last piece that I want to really dig into, because that is what separates Rhys and Cassian's relationships from others we have seen, in my opinion, and thus that is what Az wants. It's not just a mate, he wants what his brothers have, a true partner who he can fully share his life with. Because that is what makes their relationships so special.

And, in the end, I do not believe Elain can be that for him.

I am not trying to discredit Elain, or say that she is simple, or that she can't do anything but garden and be a housewife. No. That is not my point. I do think, however, that what it would entail to be a true partner to Az is something she does not want to do. And that is okay! It is okay for her to want to garden and bake. It's okay to not wish to be involved in all of the plotting and planning and little missions and quests that the Inner Circle does. It's okay to not want to train. To be happy as you are.

But she can't do both. She can't be a true partner to Azriel and remain as she is. Now, perhaps she does want more, and I have misread her. It's possible, I am not infallible. However, she hasn't ever truly shown us anything that tells me otherwise. And, no, I don't believe her offering to find the Dread Trove in Silver Flames counts as I don't believe she offered to do so out of the goodness of her heart or because she wanted to do it. I believe she wanted to prove Nesta wrong. (Again, you can see this in my previous post.) So, to be a true partner to Azriel, she may have to change everything that she is. And that's not fair to her.

And, even if I am way off on a lot of this. Even if she does want to do more for the Night Court. There is one thing that we have learned about Elain:

She does not wish to fight, she does not wish to train.

I'm sorry, you can't convince me otherwise. Not when she has had ample opportunity to do so in the year, year and a half since Hybern, and still hasn't. It was different with Nesta, who was dealing with a lot of other things, but Elain has been, for the most part, fairly healthy. Her not training is her choice because of who she is.

Again, this is okay! I am not insulting Elain for this, not at all. I get it. I don't particularly love working out - the main exercise I get is from rock climbing twice a week, that's it. So I get it. However, you cannot work with Azriel and not be trained, not know how to fight. Even if Elain could be silent, or infiltrate courts easily, and learn secrets, you need those skills, even if it's just a fallback to ensure you can escape should something go wrong. But it also helps to understand these types of things, to understand battle and politics and everything else. It's not about whether she can do this, it's about whether she wants to do this, and I'm not sure she does. So she would either have to change who she is, and be unhappy to become Az's partner, or she wouldn't be able to be that. And, admittedly, if she were unhappy, he still wouldn't have what his brothers have.

However, on top of that, I also don't know if Azriel would let Elain be his true partner. Think about when they're at dinner, talking about how Nesta needs to scry, and how they'll have to rely on Elain if she doesn't - what Azriel says.

“There is an innate darkness to the Dread Trove that Elain should not be exposed to.”

Sidebar - I've not seen anyone talk about how Cassian was absolutely in the right for defending Nesta. So I did. You can see my soap box here.

Now, back to the point. This is one example of how Az is constantly trying to protect Elain from, well, kinda everything. So, even if Elain did want to do all of those things, would Az even be okay with it? He obviously can't stop her from training or anything like that - and if he tries should she ever want to, he's dead to me. But, would he really share his life with her? Tell her about those 'unspeakable things that sullied his hands far beyond their scars'? I don't believe he would. I don't believe he could truly handle her working with him because, again, he has put her on this pedestal of beauty and grace and goodness (that she may not have). And the things he does are not good, at least not by his standards. He wouldn't be able to truly include her until he started to look at her as her own person again, which I also don't see happening. And, even then, he still wouldn't want to share with her all he'd done, believing her likely to judge those things, to be too pure to even hear about them. Regardless of whether that is true or not about Elain, it would hinder him from being able to have a true partner in her. When Azriel comes home at night, he would not tell her everything about his day.

Love Yourself, Az

This, I know for a fact, is not a new revelation. I have seen a lot about this, and have seen some posts that even helped me along with this as well, but I can't not address Az's shadows. I would link to the first post I saw about this but, admittedly, I can't find it. So, just know, I'm not the only one thinking this, and I recognize that some of this may come off as similar to others, but I couldn't not talk about this because it just feels so important.

Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They'd always been prone to vanish when she was around.

It wasn't until the Azriel POV chapter that I fully understood what lay behind the fact that Az's shadows would retreat around Elain, when we get a direct comparison to how they react to Gwyn's breath:

"How was the party?" Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music.

Before this, I didn't realize how bad a sign it is, for his shadows to retreat. I just thought they did that when he was around someone he was attracted to, almost as a sense that the other person lightened him up. But, with this comparison, and in general what we see from Az when around Elain, I see just how wrong I was. His shadows hiding isn't a sign of him lightening up - no, it's a sign of him retreating more into himself, trying to be something that he isn't around that person, in the hopes that they'll accept him if he is.

In the end, it's toxic.

He can't be who he truly is around Elain. That's not something that will lead to a healthy, happy relationship. He may have the girl he thinks he wants, but he won't have the relationship we all know he is desperate for. Whereas, around Gwyn, we see his shadows reach out to another person, jump out, dance with her breath, sing to her. He is able to fully embrace who he is around her. He will be able to be himself with her, love himself with her. And whether or not Gwyn is the right person to him, what this tells us is that Elain can't be that person. That she, like Mor, would be toxic to Az.

On top of that, I can't not point out the word usage here.

While I did observe this on my own, I am not the first to point it out - pagesofmoonlight talks about this in detail, about the usage of the term 'skittered' in regards to how the shadows retreat from Elain. It's not just a general hiding, or even a 'lightening' of Az, as I once thought. It's a gut reaction to her, her breath. They run from her. When I read that word, I literally picture a wave of something, and the shadows seeing it and running from it in fear.

Similarly, in comparison, with Gwyn's breath, the shadows 'darted' out to it. That, also, is not just a general they reached out to it for warmth or contact. Now, they darted - that is a very quick move, often done with a need or desire to get to where you're going as quickly as possible. The shadows needed or wanted to be with that breath, so they darted to it.

Like I said, this post isn't meant to be promoting one ship over Elain and Azriel. But what Gwyn provides here is a comparison, is a sign of what could and should be, whether with her or another person. Even if she isn't endgame, she shows us this problem between Elain and Azriel.

Home is Where You Shine

This entire post, which has become MASSIVE, has been very focused on Azriel, and why Elain is not right for him. But I want to touch on a reason why Az isn't right for Elain.

Azriel is a part of the Night Court. It is his home. It is where he belongs. He fits here, it is right for him. He can and does fine here. I don't think anyone can deny this. But Elain - she does not.

First, let's look at when Nesta is in the Spring Court.

Nesta’s throat constricted, and she surveyed the swaying cherry blossoms overhead. Elain would love this place. So many flowers, all in bloom, so much green—the light, vibrant green of new grass—so many birds singing and such warm, buttery sunshine. Nesta felt like a storm cloud standing amid it all. But Elain … The Spring Court had been made for someone like her.

I'm not saying Elain will end up in the Spring Court, but I do believe it is telling that Nesta would think about another court this way. We've not, to my recollection, really ever seen another character think about how well someone would fit in a different court. Feyre did, if I remember correctly, mention enjoying other courts at times, thinking they were beautiful, but never did she think about how right someone within her court would be in a different court. Because no one else in the Inner Circle would fit so well in another court. For whatever reason it is, everyone else is perfectly suited for the Night Court, and they can handle it.

It takes a lot to be a part of the Night Court. The masks they all wear, the reputation they have, the responsibilities that fall on their shoulders. It's not an insult or an attack on any character to say that they may not fit there, that they may be more in tune with the beauty of Spring, the warmth of Summer, the light of Day. And Elain, who is gentle and kind and not one to pretend to be what she isn't - likely because she's never felt the need to - I can understand how it would be hard.

Secondly, and I know it's a point of contention, and a well-discussed piece of Silver Flames, but I do want to talk about the Solstice Ball, and Cassian's observations.

Elain in black was ridiculous. Yes, she was beautiful, but the color of her long-sleeved, modest gown leeched the brightness from her face. It wore her, rather than the other way around. And he knew the cruelty of the Hewn City troubled her. But she hadn’t hesitated to come. When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed. So Elain had let her golden-brown hair down tonight, and pinned it back with twin combs of pearl. He’d never once in the two years he’d known her found Elain to be plain, but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … It sucked the life from her.

I will try not to go too far into the information about Elain in the black dress, as it's been discussed a lot from both sides, though I do think it is telling, because Cassian isn't just saying it's the one dress. It's very specific about how Elainin black was ridiculous, not that dress. It may seem shallow, but in the end, black is a crucial color in the Night Court, and that type of symbolism is often used to depict things just like this. It would not be the first time, and it certainly won't be the last that a writer uses color this way. However, I have seen a number of posts about this, on both sides, and I do understand both arguments, even if I disagree with one because I don't think it's meant to just be a skewed POV.

I would like to note, however, that the main argument I've seen is that there was once another time Elain was described in a dress that did little to complement her, but it's a very different description. That other time, it's mentioned specifically that the dress and color/shade of the dress did little to complement her 'sallow skin'. First of all, this is specifically discussing how the color didn't work with her skin, not how the color 'drained the life out of her'. Secondly, I would say it is very important to note that 'sallow' means "of a sickly, yellowish or lightish brown color". It is not discussing her skin as it typically is, but how it is when she was in the midst of her own depression after becoming High Fae. It's not that the dress didn't complement her, it's just that it didn't help make her skin look better than the sickly state it was currently in. Whereas, in this reflection, Elain is healthy, and still the black is draining her. Not the dress, not the shade - black. Point blank.

It's also important to recognize that this isn't meant to insult Elain, I believe it is a symbol of how she doesn't shine in the Night Court, how this court could potentially 'suck the life out of her'. Yes, it's just a dress. Yes, there's a chance they wanted her to look plain, but I don't believe that.

They were always going to have Nesta dance with Eris, and they all knew that, despite Elain's beauty, and no matter how lovely she looked, Eris would gravitate to Nesta. He'd already shown interest in her, he'd already become intrigued. He looked at Elain first, I believe, to get a look at his brother's mate. Because he wasn't looking at Elain with interest. No, it was an 'assessing gaze'. There was no reason to make Elain look plain. In fact, there was every reason to make sure she looked just as beautiful as Nesta. Think about what Cassian said just before this:

Both sisters wore black. Both walked behind Rhys and Feyre, a silent indicator that they were a part of the royal family. Had mighty powers of their own. They’d planned it that way, wanting Eris to see for himself how valuable Nesta was.

Why would they want her to look plain, considering this? They wanted Nesta and Elain to walk in the procession behind Feyre and Rhys, as a sign, a symbol. Yes, they wanted Eris to see and understand how valuable Nesta was, as it is said, but they didn't want Elain to look any less valuable. First, doing so would have made Nesta look less valuable by comparison. But, on top of that, I highly doubt they had any fears that Eris would prefer Elain - if they believed Eris about Lucien, then I think they'd believe that Eris wouldn't wish to take away his brother's mate. In fact, I imagine Eris would more likely help Lucien with Elain - but, that just be my Eris stan status coming out.

What is clear is that it was purposeful that they put both Nesta and Elain in black, as a symbol that they are a part of this family. My guess is that they found a dress for Elain that did her the most justice, and that she was comfortable wearing but, in the end, black just doesn't work on her. And is that fact not telling when that is the color of the family?

While this was in draft mode, I also found this post from yazthebookish, who goes deeper into this, and how it wasn't just Cassian who observed how ridiculous Nesta looked in black. So, for those who want to talk about how it is a skewed perspective, there were actually three that made this observation, and I absolutely agree that SJM wouldn't shove this in there solely to say that they purposefully tried to make sure Nesta outshone Elain. As they pointed out, Nesta is gorgeous in her own right. Cassian met her and Elain together, and he was instantly drawn to Nesta. As I mentioned earlier, Eris has been intrigued by her since long before this - see the High Lords meeting in ACOWAR. Helion would gladly get into her leathers, and while I'm aware that's not saying much, his focus on her is slightly higher than you see it on others he would also slide into bed with. She doesn't need Elain to dull herself down to shine.

I also think the one observation about how the black 'wore her' matters. It makes me wonder more about this court, both the general Night Court, and the people in the Inner Circle. Is the court wearing her? Is it sucking the life out of her? Is this why we don't see as much spine from Elain? We got some in this book, but it was all in an attempt to prove she belongs to this court. Something she feels the need to do, as we see in Cassian's reflection:

When Feyre had offered to let her remain home, Elain had squared her shoulders and declared that she was a part of this court—and would do whatever was needed.

…but wearing black, no matter how much she claimed to be part of this court … It sucked the life from her.

First of all, just quickly, I want to mention the ellipses before it says 'it sucked the life from her', and what came right before that. Is Cassian talking about the black? Or is he talking about being a part of this court? I don't have the answer, just food for thought.

I can't help but notice that Elain seems to feel the need to constantly prove, declare, and claim that she is part of this court. She has to push her way through, and while I know it's in part because so many people try to protect her, I think it's more than that. I believe Elain wants to be a part of the Night Court, but in the end it's not suited to her, and so she has to force her way in, when even Nesta, who everyone has been so displeased with, manages to fall in much easier. It's not because they don't like Elain, that's obvious. I believe it's because, in the end, they all see it.

It reminds me a lot of Tywin Lannister's quote from GoT (TV series, I won't read the books until George RR Martin finishes them):

Any man who must say, "I am the King", is no true king.

Could you not adjust this to: "Any person who must say, 'I am part of this court', is not truly part of this court."

I don't think Nesta has once said that. Feyre, maybe, but not in the same way as much as in letting certain people outside the court know. But, to have to say that within the court - it signifies that either you, yourself, don't believe yourself part of the court, or that maybe you aren't truly. Or that you are, but you recognize that maybe it's not the right fit, even if you really want it to be.

In the end, while I don't think Elain can't fit or find a nice life in the Night Court, the final point is that she doesn't shine in the Night Court. And that's not the same as saying she fully doesn't belong. But, shouldn't home be a place where you shine? Where you can be everything you are, and it is absolutely right? Isn't that what Nesta found in Silver Flames, in the House, with Cassian, and Gwyn, and Emerie,…and the House? She didn't have to be anything other than who she was, with any of them, and she still found a place that not only provided her comfort, but where she could truly shine. And she's found it in the Night Court, as well.

Elain hasn't. And maybe that's just because we haven't seen her story play out yet. I'm not so stuck up to believe there's no way I could be wrong. In fact, what bugs me the most about a lot of posts around these different beliefs is the use of 'when' instead of 'if', because no one wants to admit that, at this point in time, no matter what side you're on, it very much is an 'if'. None of us know what SJM has planned. All we can do is use the information we've been given to make as educated a guess as possible. This is mine, and SJM may prove me completely wrong, and that's okay. She may end up giving Elain a more similar arc to Nesta, and show how she develops and grows into someone who flourishes in the Night Court with Az by her side, and should she do that, I hope it's in a way I can understand and not something poorly developed and difficult to grasp.

A Mate is A Mate is A Mate

I won't talk too much about how she and Azriel aren't mates and how that automatically means they couldn't work. It could, in concept. I won't address the theories about her ending up with multiple mates. I do not agree with these theories, as they conflict with the canon we have. Until SJM puts out canon information that can explain a contradiction to what we've been given, any theory that truly contradicts the canon provided I will not consider, whether I like it or not. Multiple mates is not a thing. Being able to sever the mating bond so that someone can have a new mate is not a thing. I do recognize that females can reject the mating bond, and I am not saying whether or not I think Elain should or shouldn't do this with Lucien. Nor am I saying that having a story where someone does reject the mating bond to see how that plays out wouldn't be great.

I will point out, however, that it is often discussed as a thing females do. Females reject the mating bond. Males who have a female that rejected the mating bond grow incredibly uncomfortable, and they truly struggle.

...there will always be a ... tug. For the females, it is usually easier to ignore, but the males ... It can drive them mad.

I'm not going to include all the stuff about males thinking their mate belongs to them. Grow up, Prythian. Get with the program. But, considering this, considering the other pieces we get, I do not know if a male can be with another person, truly, in a loving relationship if he has a mate. Maybe one day, years and years and years after the rejection. Or maybe, if his mate doesn't fit his preferences - if that is a thing (and honestly, we don't yet know the status of same-sex mates, but if they are a thing - please let them be - then I have a harder time believing that those who have specific preferences would end up in a mating pair with the wrong gender).

I am not saying this to say that Elain and Lucien should be together. I am saying this because, considering all these things, right now, canon information essentially tells us that, should Az find his mate, he will go to her, need to be around her. Think about Cassian when Feyre asked why he bothers with Nesta:

Because I can't stay away.

Think about how Lucien couldn't help but try to find Elain, despite direct orders of being told not to. Or about how the second Rhys heard Feyre say 'no' in her mind to Tamlin, he was there to take her away. They just can't help it. The mating bond has a stronger pull on males.

And, maybe Az would be able to deny the bond. To reject it himself, who knows. But, based on everything we've been told, that would be incredibly difficult. And, considering how much he wants what his brothers have, would he want to?

Obviously, there is reason to believe Az does have a mate, and we've met her. And I know some people disagree with this. I would be interested to hear any theories about why he and Gwyn aren't mates, so long as they don't involve Elain. It's not that I have anything against her, it's just that those arguments don't actually point to Gwyn and Az not being mates, just that the person believes Elain and Az belong together regardless, which is not an argument for why they're not mates. But if there are any reasons or signs found in the books and canon information that distinctly point against Gwyn and Az being mates, then I'm open to hearing those points. And, as I mentioned, I do not entertain any canon-conflicting theories, such as the multiple mates one.

As it stands, though, I do think we have been directed toward the idea that Gwyn and Az are mates, and can believe that the mating bond will snap into place. Once it does, I have a hard time believing Az will actually be able to stay away. And that, even if Gwyn ends up rejecting that bond, I don't know that he'll be able to be with Elain after it, knowing Elain isn't his first choice.

Final Thoughts

Like I said earlier, I'm not against Elain rejecting the mating bond, or anyone doing so. I will say this, though - how much more powerful would it be to have someone reject the mating bond not because they wish to be with someone else, but just because they do not wish to be with that person? Is it not more empowering to see a female (or male, if they can do it) choose to be single, and live their life as they are solely because they just do not wish to be with that person? Instead of it being more of an, 'well, it's just, I'd rather be with him'. Sadly, I do not think Elain is set up to be that person. Gwyn could, potentially, be, though I'll admit I don't believe it, considering the attention Gwyn pays to him. But I do think it's worth noting that, in my opinion, the mating bond can be rejected even if there is not another male in the picture.

However, despite all the questions and uncertainties, until we get answers, this is my personal view, based on what I've seen in the books, and how I've interpreted it. I personally feel that, regardless of who I hope ends up with whom, SJM has placed a number of clues and hints to show that Elain and Azriel aren't meant to be together, that they wouldn't be right together. And that, if they were to be together, the relationship would likely be unhealthy, and potentially toxic.

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

This post is also not meant to insult or attack Elain in any way, nor Azriel. Nor am I trying to insult or attack those who ship them together. We are all welcome to our own opinions. I promise to respect yours, please respect mine.

[spockandawe]

Well, this is interesting! So, in that post yesterday, there was one line that really baffled me, a thing about people brushing off a character as an asshole “because he shows literally zero growth.” I kind of set that aside because it was such a weird non-sequitur, and guessed that it was just someone’s sentences not quite keeping up with their train of thought, which has happened to me many times. Apparently I was wrong! I already spent long enough on that one post, I’m tired of talking about that, but this is new and interesting. 

Okay. I kind of wanted to see if I could talk about this purely in terms of abstracts and not characters, but I don’t think it’ll work. It would be frustrating to write and confusing to read. It’s about Jiang Cheng. Right up front: This isn’t about whether or not he’s an abuser. Frankly, I don’t think it’s relevant. This also isn’t about telling people they should like him. I don't care whether anyone else likes him or not. But I do like him, and I am always fascinated by dissecting the reasons that people disagree with me. And the process of Telling Stories is my oldest hyperfixation I remember, which will become relevant in a minute.

I thought I had a good grasp on this one, you know? Jiang Cheng makes it pretty obvious why people would dislike Jiang Cheng. But then the posts I keep stumbling over were making weird points, culminating in that “literally zero growth” line.

So! What happened is that someone wrote up a post about how Jiang Cheng’s character arc isn’t an arc, it’s stagnation. It’s a pretty interesting read, and I broadly agree with the larger point! The points where I would quibble are like... the idea that it’s absolute stagnation, as opposed to very subtle shifts that still make a material difference. But still, cool! The post was also offered up as a reason why OP was uninterested in writing any more Jiang Cheng meta, which I totally get. I’m not tired of him yet, but I definitely understand why someone who isn’t a fan of his would get tired about writing about a character with a very static arc. Okay!

Now, internet forensics are hard. I desperately wish I had more information about this evolution, because I find this stuff fascinating, but I have no good way to find things said in untagged posts, reblogs, or private/external venues. But as far as I can tell, that “literally zero growth” wasn’t just a slip of the tongue, it’s become fashionable for people to say that Jiang Cheng is an abusive asshole (that it’s fucked up to like) because he doesn’t have a character arc.

Asshole? Yes. Abusive? This post still isn’t about that. This is about it being fucked up to like this character because he did bad things and had a static character arc.

At first, that point of view was still deeply confusing to me. But I think I figured out the idea at the core of it, and now I’m only baffled. I’m not super interested in confirming this directly, because the people making the most noise about this have not inspired confidence in their ability to hold a civil conversation and I’m a socially anxious binch, but I think the idea is: ‘This character did Bad Things, and then did not improve himself.’

Which is alarmingly adjacent to that old favorite standard of ‘This piece of fiction is glorifying Bad Thing.’ I haven’t seen anyone accusing mxtx of something something jiang cheng, only the people who read/watched/heard the story and became invested in the Jiang Cheng character, but things kind of add up, you know?

Like I said, I don’t want to arbitrate anyone’s right to like/dislike Jiang Cheng. That’s such a fucking waste of time. But this is fascinating to me, because it’s like..... so obviously new and sudden, with such a clear originating point. I can’t speak to the Chinese fans, obviously, but exiledrebels started translating in... what, 2017? And only now, in 2021, do people start putting forth Jiang Cheng’s flat character arc as a “reason” that he’s bad? I’m not going to argue if he pings you in the abuse place, I’m not a dick. I’m not going to argue if you just dislike his vibes. I’m just over here on my blog and in the tag enjoying myself, feel free to detour around me. But oh my god, it’s so silly to try to tell other people that they shouldn’t like him because he has a static character arc.

I want to talk about stories. I don’t know how much I’ll be able to say, because it’s impossible to make broad, sweeping statements, because there are stories about change, there are stories about lack of change, there are all kinds of media that can be used to tell stories, and standards for how stories are told and what they emphasize vary across cultures and over time. But I think that what I can say is that telling a story requires... compromise. It requires streamlining. Trying to capture all the detail of life would slow down most stories to an unbearable degree. Consider organically telling someone ‘I made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich’ versus the computer science exercise of having students describe, step by step, how to make one (spread peanut butter? but you never said you opened the lid)

Hell, I’ve got an example in mdzs itself. The largely-faceless masses of the common people. If someone asks you to think about it critically like, yes, obviously these are people, living their own lives, with their own desires, sometimes suffering and dying in the wake of the novel plot. But does the story give weight to those deaths? Or does it just gloss by? Yes, it references their suffering occasionally, but it is not the focus, and it would slow the story unbearably to give equal weight to each dead person mentioned. 

Does Wei Wuxian’s massacre get given the same slow, careful consideration as Su She’s, or Jin Guangyao’s? No, because taking the time to weigh our protagonist with ‘well, this one was a mother, and her youngest son had just started walking, but now he’s going to grow up without remembering her face. that one only became an adult a few months ago, he still hasn’t been on many night-hunts yet, but he finds it so rewarding to protect the common people. oh, and this one had just gotten engaged, but don’t worry, his fiancee won’t mourn him, because she died here as well.’ And continuing on that way to some large number under 3000? No! Unless your goal is to make the reader feel bad for cheering for a morally grey hero, that would be a bad authorial decision! The book doesn’t ignore the issue, it comes up, Wei Wuxian gets called out about all the deaths he’s responsible for, but that’s not the same as them being given equal emotional weight to one (1) secondary character, and I don’t love this new thing where people are pretending that’s equivalent.

When Wei Wuxian brutally kills every person at the Wen supervisory office, are you like ‘holy shit... so many grieving families D:’ or are you somewhere between vindicated satisfaction and an ‘ooh, yikes’ wince? Odds are good you’re somewhere in the satisfaction/wince camp, because that’s what the story sets you up to feel, because the story has to emphasize its priorities (priorities vary, but ‘plot’ and ‘protagonist’ are common ones, especially for a casual novel read like this)

Now, characters. If you want to write a story with a sweeping, epic scale, or if you want to tightly constrain the number of people your story is about, I guess it’s possible to give everyone involved a meaningful character arc. Now.... is it always necessary? Is it always possible? Does it always make sense? No, of course not. If you want to do that, you have to devote real estate to it, and depending on the story you want to tell, it could very possibly be a distraction from your main point, like the idea of mxtx tenderly eulogizing every single character who dies even incidentally. Lan Qiren doesn’t get a loving examination of his feelings re: his nephews and wei wuxian and political turnover in the cultivation world because it’s not relevant, and also, because his position is pretty static until right near the end of the story. Lan Xichen is arguably one of the most static characters within the book, he seems like the same nice young between Gusu and the present, right up until... just before the end of the story.

You may see where I’m heading with this.

Like, just imagine trying to demand that every important character needs to go through a major life change before the end of your book or else it didn’t count. This just in, Granny Weatherwax and Nanny Ogg go through multiple novels without experiencing radical shifts in who they are, stop liking them immediately. I do get that the idea is that Jiang Cheng was a ~bad person~ who didn’t change, but asdgfsd I thought we were over the handwringing over people being allowed to like ““bad”” fictional characters. The man isn’t even a canonical serial killer, he’s not my most problematic fave even within this novel.

And here is where it’s a little more relevant that I would quibble with that original post about Jiang Cheng’s arc. He’s consistently a mean girl, but he goes from stressed, sharp-edged teenager, to grief-stricken, almost-destroyed teen, to grim, cold young adult (and then detours into grim, cold, and grief-stricken until grief dulls with time). He does become an attentive uncle tho. He..... doesn’t experience a radical change in his sense of self, which... it’s...... not all that strange for an adult. And bam, then he DOES experience a radical change, but the needs of the plot dictate that it’s right near the end. And he’s not the focus of the story, baby, wangxian is. He has the last few lines of the story, which nicely communicate his changes to me, but also asdfafas we’re out of story. He was never the main character, it’s not surprising we don’t linger! The extras aren’t beholden to the needs of plot, but they’re also about whatever mxtx wanted to write, and I guess she didn’t feel like writing about Jiang Cheng ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

But also. Taking a step backward. Stable characters can fill a perfectly logical place in a story. Like, look at Leia Organa. I’m not saying she has no arc, but I am saying that she’s a solid point of reference as Luke is becoming a jedi and Han is adjusting his perspective. I wouldn’t call her stagnant, the vibes are wrong, but she also isn’t miserable in her sadness swamp, the way Jiang Cheng is.

Or, hell, look at tgcf. The stagnant, frozen nature of the big bad is a central feature of the story. The bwx of now is the bwx of 800 years ago is the bwx of 1500+ years ago. This is not the place for a meta on how that was bad for those around him and for him himself, but I have Thoughts about how being defeated at the end is both a thing that hurts him and relieves him. Mei Nianqing is a sympathetic character who’s also pretty darn static. Does Ling Wen have a character arc, or do we just learn more about who she already is and what her priorities always were? I’m going to cut myself off here, but a character’s delta between the beginning of a story and the end of a story is a reasonable way to judge how interesting writing character meta is, and is a very silly metric to judge their worth, and even if I guessed at what the basic logic is, for this character, I am still baffled that it’s being put forth as a real talking point.

(also, has it jumped ship to any other characters yet? have people started applying it in other fandoms as well? please let me know if this is the case, I am wildly curious)

(no, but really, if anyone is arguing that bwx is gross specifically because he had centuries to self-reflect and didn’t fix himself, i am desperate to know)

And finally. The thing I thought was most self-evident. Did I post about this sometime recently? If a non-central character experiences a life-altering paradigm shift right near the end of the story (without it being lingered over, because non-central character), oh my god. As a fic writer? IT’S FREE REAL ESTATE. This is the most fertile possible ground. If I want to write post-canon canon-compliant material, adsgasfasd that’s where I’m going to be looking. Okay, yeah, the main couple is happy, that’s good. Who isn’t happy, and what can I do about that? Happy families are all alike, while every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way, etc.

It’s not everyone’s favorite playground, but come on, these are not uncommon feelings. And frankly, it’s starting to feel a little disingenuous when people act like fan authors pick out the most blameless angel from the cast and lavish good things upon them. I’m not the only one who goes looking for a good dumpster fire and says I Live Here Now. If I write post-canon tgcf fic, it’s very likely to focus on beef and/or leaf. I have written more than one au focusing on tianlang-jun.

And, hilariously. If the problem with Jiang Cheng. Is that he is a toxic man fictional character who failed to grow on his own, and is either unsafe or unhealthy to be around. If the problem is that he did not experience a character arc. If these people would be totally fine with other people liking him, if he improved himself as a person. And then, if authors want to put in the (free! time-consuming!) work of writing that character development themselves. You would think that they would be lauded for putting the character through healthier sorts of personal growth than he experienced in canon. Instead, I am still here writing this because first, I was bothered by these authors being named as “freaks” who are obsessed with their ‘uwu precious tsundere baby’ with a “love language of violence,” and then I was graciously informed that people hate Jiang Cheng because he experiences no character growth.

[qianoir]

After Midnight 1 - On Melancholy Hill

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: college dropout!Ten (WayV) x fem!reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: non-idol au, angst with fluff on top

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 13+

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing (censored), lying, family problems, mentions death of reader's father, romance

♡ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

Preview < 1 < 2

7:00 PM

A fresh, black apron is thrown overhead the moment you enter Décalcomanie, your mom’s café, feet barely stabilizing shaky legs walking to the back room after a long day of dance class that you refer to as organic chemistry when your mother is present.

“Why are you so shaky?”

“I dissected a cadaver in ana-physio today and it kinda freaked me out..”

“Ah! My daughter is doing so well in school, you’re going to become the top doctor in Korea! I can’t wait to brag to all of my friends at Bible study this week.”

She glides past you with a smile and you have to fight the urge to eye roll in front of her cherished customers.

“Thank you for always working so hard for me. You make me so proud.” Her warm embrace taunts your second facade and a fake smile is placed onto the facade before her.

“Be safe when closing and text me when you get home!” And she leaves in her mid-40s to have the Friday night that the girl in her early 20s should be having instead. Unfortunately, hiding your academic identity from your mother forces the rejection of friendships with the possibility of your true major in dance getting back to her.

The longing feeling for friends presses solemnly at your gut as the elder customers exit the café and young adult students and lovesick couples flood in asking for more sugar than is provided in the ajummah favorite black tea. Every run to each table is accompanied by the slow setting sun, reassuring me of the calm night about to come.

An hour passed, not many people came in this late, except for the insomniacs and sorority girls, but they seemed to be either finally sleeping or out partying tonight.

It was now 11:55 PM and no one else had come into the shop for the past 2 hours, but the café was open until 1 AM. At least time is money, you thought, the time being spent leaning over the counter watching Mystic Pop-up Bar on your phone, obviously very fitting for such a night. That was, until the faint ring of the bell above the front door.

You look up and see the petite Chinese kid that always comes in at 12 AM, sharp. He rarely ever talks as you two are the only ones ever in the shop at this hour, but he is not a bother. To you, he seems like a chill person. The boy always leaves a napkin with some song lyrics scribbled on it, a different song each time. They always find way into the pocket of your apron after he leaves, searching for and listening to whatever song to which the lyrics belong when you get home before throwing the cloth out. He has good taste and you often wonder if they are left behind purposely.

The boy sat down at the table in the very back corner by a large window at the front of the café, as always, separate from the other customers who adored sitting at the pretty tables prior to his arrival. He looked up at the sound of footsteps coming to take his order, greeting you with a dashing smile as always again. His craving was spoken in a soft voice, neither a Chinese nor Korean accent present in his voice.

You turned back to whip up his request. One personal strawberry chantilly cake without the strawberries. Easy.

Plating the cute cake, you looked over at him. He was hunched over a storybook-looking journal writing an artwork of Chinese characters with a brush pen, filling you with the usual curiosity about for what reason he was learning Chinese when he was of the language’s origin himself. In the midst of admiring his hard-working strokes, your finger nearly sliced from the lack of attention, and the cake knife was immediately dropped on instinct.

The noise had the boy's eyes suddenly on you again. "Are you okay?" Words stumbled over your lips as you blushed in embarrassment.

"Yes, just got a little distracted.." you honestly assured him. He let out a small giggle then continued with his writing. You blew out a sad puff of air that had been unsettling your ribcage.

You placed the plated cake slice onto a tray and walked over to the boy, gently setting the cream dessert on his table with some napkins, careful not to touch his notebook. "Thank you very much." He says with another contagious smile before you scurry off back behind the bar, continuing the drama episode prior to the regular nightwalker’s arrival. You glanced up and saw the man nibbling on the cake- which was already almost completely finished.

"Is there anything else you would like, sir?"

"I don’t suppose you know Chinese, do you?" The boy laughed to himself, seemingly desperate to have anyone teach him at this point.

"Oh! I’m taking Mandarin at university, actually. I may be of service."

The boy's eyes widened. "I'm sorry! I didn't expect a real answer.. I don't mean to bother you.. but could you please help me understand the meaning of this?"

Peering down at the paper he showed you:

我们不曲终没有人散

夜未央心还澎湃

今晚没有人要醒过来

(Until our song ends, no one’s leaving. The night is not yet over, hearts are still surging. No one wants to wake up tonight.)

Wow that is some deep sh!t.

You translated the literal meaning of the words since you did not know exactly how they mean in a poetic sense. He understood and thanked you for the help.

It was nearing 1 AM and you went to clean up the café before the closing hour. The boy stayed a while more, writing calligraphic characters on his paper and doodling on napkins. He eventually left at midnight’s 50 minute mark.

When you got around to cleaning his table, sure enough, there was a napkin with lyrics forming a neat stanza. This time, the lyrics were in Chinese. And was that.. his number!?

Moonlight shines at midnight. Heartbeats start to rise. Creating a fluttering surprise. The midnight rhythm arrives. We do not know burnout. Bodies feeling like they’re flying. Touch me when the sun goes down.. Touch me after midnight..

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

ten lee

To be continued...

After Midnight by WayV

𝘲𝘪𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘪𝘳

[lets-steal-an-archive]

'Golden Girls' Polishes Its Scripts: Daily Revisions Geared to Sharpen Story and Hone Those Laugh Lines

TRUE OR FALSE:

Actresses Bea Arthur, Estelle Getty, Rue McClanahan and Betty White write their own dialogue for "The Golden Girls." (FALSE)

Older female writers write all 25 episodes each season because no one else could understand the problems of older females. (FALSE)

In order to keep the shows consistent from week to week, one writer prepares all the episodes. (FALSE)

Ten staff writers work together to prepare a season's worth of scripts. (TRUE)

It's a Monday morning in early October and on a sound stage at the small Renmar Studios in Hollywood, the "golden girls" have gathered to read a new script. This will be episode No. 60 of the series and it will air about three weeks later — on Halloween.

Everyone in the room has heard about this week's story line: Rose writes a letter to Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev. But apart from the writers, no one has seen the final script until now. It was completed on a Saturday, photocopied 150 times on Sunday and distributed this morning to NBC; co-producer Touchstone Pictures; the show's creator, Susan Harris; the show's lawyers and researchers, and the "Golden Girls" cast and crew.

"Hopefully, they'll laugh," murmurs head writer Kathy Speer as she prepares to hear the "table reading." "If they don't, we'll be here fixing the script for a long time."

The table reading really is at tables — eight of them arranged in a rectangle. The actresses and guest actors sit on one side, facing the writers. To the actresses' left are director Terry Hughes, executive producers Paul Junger Witt and Tony Thomas and co-executive producers/head writers Speer and Terry Grossman. To the actresses' right sit NBC representatives, the show's casting director and props and wardrobe personnel.

They begin. Director Hughes reads the stage directions: Interior, kitchen — day. Sophia is seated at table. She is reading book entitled 'Magic Made Easy.' Dorothy enters.

Bea Arthur, as Dorothy, reads: "Hi, Ma."

Estelle Getty, as Sophia, reads: "Give me your watch."

Another week is under way. As the actresses go through their lines, everyone else listens intently. They laugh (or don't laugh) and take notes. By the Friday-night tapings, this script will need to play at 22 minutes. But Friday is a long way off.

As soon as the table reading ends, the writers, producers, director and an NBC program executive huddle to discuss script changes. Then, while the actresses begin rehearsals using the first draft, the writers rush off to their yellow stucco two-story building nearby to begin rewriting.

"The secret of TV half-hour comedy shows is the revisions," explains Dean Valentine, NBC director of current comedy and also the program executive on "Golden Girls." "What they start out with is 75% away from what they end up with."

"I don't think this episode is going to need much work," co-head writer Terry Grossman announces cheerfully on his way back to his office. "It got a good response at the table. We just have to cut it, smooth out transitions and clarify some story points. New jokes will be the tough thing." He anticipates a few hours' work.

"Early in the first season we were throwing out whole scenes," he recalls. "Now we know what works for each lady and what she does best. That's the advantage of being in the third year of the show. The disadvantage is that stories are harder to come by."

Grossman heads into the office he shares with his wife Speer, who is also his writing partner. They are in charge of the writing staff. "That means we are the two who get yelled at the most when something goes wrong," he jokes.

Also piling into the conference-sized room are supervising producers Barry Fanaro and Mort Nathan and producer Winifred Hervey. Despite their titles, Grossman explains, "We're all writers."

"We are the five most dull people," Nathan insists.

"We're much funnier on paper," Hervey adds.

These five, all in their 30s, met when they worked on "Benson," an earlier Witt-Thomas-Harris series. They have been with "Golden Girls" since the beginning, and every Monday they jointly rewrite the script being taped that week. They jokingly call themselves The Gang of Five.

While they start rewriting, the show's other five staff writers — Chris Lloyd, Jeff Ferro, Frederic Weiss, Robert Bruce and Martin Weiss — go back to their own offices to work on new scripts.

"To keep quality, you like as many writers as you can afford," Speer explains. "This year, we have six 'entities' (writing teams) — four sets of partners and two individuals. And we also use a few free-lance scripts each season."

Approximately 25% of the show's budget goes to the writers, executive producer Tony Thomas says. Staff writers on a comedy series earn a weekly salary plus separate payments for completed scripts. A free-lance writer who does a story outline, a first draft and a second draft can earn about $11,000. (Note: All outside script submissions must come through agents.)

"A good comedy requires a lot of teamwork, a lot of people sitting in a room working together," Thomas emphasizes. "A good team is rare, but it's not extremely rare. It's like winning the NBA title. We had it in 'Soap,' and we had it for some years in 'Benson.' Obviously this is one of the most successful staffs we’ve ever put together."

Both Witt and Thomas deal with day-to-day details on "Golden Girls." Harris, who created the series, is less involved this season because, according to Thomas, "She is working on a feature for Disney with us. But she reads all the scripts and is familiar with most of the stories."

Flashback to the previous Friday, a week when "Golden Girls" wasn't taping. Every fourth week during the season, the show shuts down, giving the actors and crew a rest and allowing the writers to catch up.

The Gang of Five is trying to explain how their writing process works. They insist on telling, rather than showing, because, as they say, they're shy. "At the beginning of the season, even having our new writers in the meeting made me a little uncomfortable," Grossman admits. "It slowed down the process."

"One of the most important things that exists with this group is that the bottom line is making the show as good as possible. It's still very difficult when your script is read for the first time and the material doesn't work. It hurts for a moment. But there's no time to take it personally. It didn't work, and the clock is ticking. You better keep moving and get it right."

Like all sitcoms, "Golden Girls" has a "bible," a book that synopsizes everything that has happened on a series. Thus, new writers don't have to watch all the previous episodes. But there is no master plan of what will happen in the future.

The idea for "Letter to Gorbachev" surfaced last May at a beginning-of-the-season meeting of the writers and producers. "It was one of 20 or 30 story notions kicked around," Barry Fanaro recalls. The obvious similarity to Samantha Smith's letter to then-Soviet leader Yuri Andropov isn't mentioned.

"Most of them didn't work,” adds Fanaro's writing partner Mort Nathan, "but this one sounded amusing. Because Rose is a childlike character, we wondered what would happen if she wrote a letter to Gorbachev about world peace. We started fleshing it out, but we couldn't think of a second act. We went round and round, and finally six weeks later we came up with a way to make the story work."

"The five of us went over it scene by scene and agreed it was workable," Fanaro continues. "Then Mort and I went off and wrote it. It took about 10 days because we were also working on other things."

Each "Golden Girls” episode is written to a formula: "the idea, the act break and the resolution," Grossman explains. "Usually there's an 'A' story and a 'B' story going. It's the natural structure."

Although Fanaro and Nathan, who won a writing Emmy last year for a "Golden Girls" episode, wrote the basic Gorbachev script, the story the audience will see has gone through the usual "Golden Girls" grinder: The Gang of Five read and dissect the first draft, adding new scenes, new lines, new jokes. "It's really a team effort," Grossman stresses.

The jokes can be the easiest part — or the hardest. "They're only hard to write when you've got one that isn't working," Grossman says. "A joke in the middle of a scene can be weak, but the 'out joke' — a snappy one-liner that ends the scene on a laugh — has to be strong."

"We may decide a scene needs a new opening," Speer explains. "There will be a long moment of silence. Then someone will ask if anybody's eaten at some new restaurant. In the course of conversation, somebody will say, 'Wait a minute. I have an idea.'"

"With five of us, at least one of us is paying attention," Hervey deadpans.

"Good writers should be able to write for men, women, old or young," Grossman says. "We all draw on other people in our lives — parents, grandparents. Part of the reason for the show's popularity is that these are very vital people. The very same story you've seen 100 times on every sitcom takes on new light with characters in this age group. That makes life easier for us.

"Also, these four actresses are sensational. To have the entire cast be able to give such high-caliber performances means you don't have to adjust your material. You write the material, and they deliver. If they can't make it work, there's something wrong with the material."

The week goes by quickly. On Tuesday morning, the "golden girls" read over the revised script and discover that one scene has changed considerably. Some lines have been cut, while others have been sharpened. There are several new jokes. A press conference scene has been shifted from a hotel room to the ladies' living room.

On Tuesday night, the Gang of Five works late. During the day's rehearsals they realized that the revised scene didn’t play well so they jettisoned it and added some new dialogue and a few more jokes.

Following Wednesday's rehearsals, they hone the script a little more. Time is pressing. By the Thursday afternoon dress rehearsal, the actresses try to be script-perfect, although they often aren't. By now, the original 52-page script has been reduced to 50 pages, and almost every page has had at least one alteration.

For instance, on Monday when Blanche accidentally spat Coca-Cola on a Soviet Embassy official, he responded by saying, "No apology necessary." Now he says, "No need to apologize. In Moscow, we have to stand in line four hours to get this."

Late Friday afternoon, the audience files into Renmar Studios to watch the first taping. The writers are standing by, just in case a last-minute problem occurs. During the 90-minute dinner break, while a new audience is arriving, the cast, writers and producers calmly discuss how to improve the second taping. A few lines are cut, the taping is completed, and it’s on to the next week.

Source: Mills, Nancy. 1987. 'Golden Girls' Polishes Its Scripts: Daily Revisions Geared to Sharpen Story and Hone Those Laugh Lines. Los Angeles Times, October 30, https://www.latimes.com/archives/la-xpm-1987-10-30-ca-11702-story.html

[blackgirlsuperherorants]

With more articulation, I'm ready to talk about why the push for Lokius simply bothers me, and this can be said for other m/m or w/w ships that fans push to be canon so hard just because they ship it.

It's the framing. The framing that if Marvel doesn't do it (or whatever the brand is), it's because homophobia, and if other fans don't like it/ship it, it's because homophobia (even if they ship other queer ships and are queer themselves.) And the biggest problem with that is that it overshadows the REAL issue of lack of queer representation on screen in mainstream nerd media, especially from big things under the Disney umbrella (Marvel and Lucasfilm/Star Wars, especially.)

It makes it bad that your ship isn't canon instead of bad that there haven't been any queer romances on screen in the MCU.

And like, as a writer myself, I find myself dissecting the stories of other media all the time. I can watch an MCU movie or series and pretty much assess what direction the story is going in by the narrative points they're hitting. I knew Sylki was basically gonna happen (even if just a kiss) because narratively, that's what the show was doing as soon as they had that "what is love" conversation on Lamentis-1. It didn't mean I liked it. But I knew it was happening.

Similarly, there's no romantic undertones to Loki and Mobius. None. For Marvel to make them a couple, it would mean they'd be doing it simply because the two present as men and it would make stans happy. And while there's something to be said for fan service, it would be annoying to watch them cram two guys together who aren't romantic in the slightest. I'd much rather see Loki meet some guy and have the same type of undertones they were giving to Sylvie and form a real bond to where the kiss feels earned and warranted. Not just put him with the nearest man because "he gay lol."

And how you guys are claiming it's being queer that makes you want this is beyond me. It's not being queer that makes you want this. I don't want queer characters that fuck everyone of whatever gender(s) they're attracted to even when it doesn't make sense for them to. I want real love stories. I mean, yeah, sometimes we can have a slut character, because that's fun, too, but that's not even what y'all think Lokius is. You seem to want them to be in love. But why? Because he's the first friend Loki made that isn't through Thor?

I hate that, too, because I hate this idea that queer people cannot have friends of their same gender without wanting to fuck them. IDK how y'all are, maybe y'all are like that, but I almost never have wanted to fuck any of my friends. The only few exceptions have been when I tried to befriend someone I had a crush on (in which case, usually the friendship can't work, really, because I have a crush on them.) I also think it's okay if you can have casual sex with friends, or if you have a friendship that develops into romance, but Jesus, do you people not have friends that you don't want to fuck? I am bi, maybe more pan (gender kind of doesn't matter to me, I guess) and I'm friends with people of all kinds of gender identities and like... I love them as people, which is why they're my friends, but I DO NOT want to fuck them. Especially my closest friend. I talked about her, before, here, but she's like my sister. The thought of fucking her is gross, to me. Not because she's gross, but because it feels incestuous.

Loki shouldn't want to fuck Mobius just because they developed a friendship. And that's very much how it's written on the series. They almost dislike each other (or Mobius is at least indifferent to Loki) and then they become friends.

That's not to mention the power dynamic that exists, there. And I know some of y'all are subs, but yeah, it's a bit gross to imply a sexual relationship with Loki's captor.

But on to Sylki. It sucks that I feel like most of y'all hate Sylki because Sylvie is a girl, and not just because it's bad in other ways. Like, the reasons Sylki is bad have less to do with "it should have been Mobius" and more to do with it being a lazy 1980s action movie plot that should have never happened. I'm not as creeped out by the selfcest (as many of you wouldn't have been if she was a he, I'm almost positive), but what's bad about it is that they couldn't have a strong female lead character without her being the love interest of the main guy. She didn't need to be, especially because she was a Loki variant, anyway. There was no need for it to have romantic undertones, and there was no need for them to kiss. It was sexist more than it was homophobic (and I can't help feeling like y'all are kind of being biphobic in this case. Maybe I'll talk about that, later, but yeah.) It was sexist bullshit. And there's valid criticism that Sylvie is underdeveloped. She's just angry and something for Loki to project affection onto.

I was also hoping they'd do a "found family" type of thing with Sylvie and Loki and let her be like the sister he never knew he needed, but no, they had to go trope and make her the love interest. It was lazy and bad and basically went "If Loki girl, main Loki want bone!"

Basically, having the main character fall for a character just because of their proximity and gender is bad and I hate it (and it would have been bad with Mobius, too, but yeah.)

Both the Mobius and the Sylvie thing also feel kind of racist, to me, because the show has prominent Black women who aren't even presented as desirable to Loki. And y'all, of course, ship him with anyone but the Women of Color. Y'all can pull true love with Mobius out of your ass, but he couldn't possibly fall for the Black women. lol.

Anyway. Not every show needs ships, and this show shouldn't have had any. I hate it. It's bad.

I guess on the biphobia front, I have heard some takes that it's not biphobic because Loki being queer in the MCU which hasn't shown any queer relationships, and Loki being the first openly queer character means they shouldn't have shown him with a woman presenting character. Which, I guess I get where you're coming from... but I have also been in fandoms for a long time and I see mostly girls saying this shit, which is what leads me to feel like it's simply jealousy. It happens all the time when a long-beloved single male character/celebrity suddenly starts dating a woman. Everyone hates it. And like, we haven't seen Loki be with ANYONE in the MCU, because mostly he's been doing villainy and his dating life hasn't been relevant. If the demigod says he's bi, he can kiss a woman. Especially a woman version of himself. Like I said, I hate it for other reasons, but pretending it's because he should have kissed Mobius is utterly delusional. He probably shouldn't have kissed anyone. Not in this series. There was no reason for any canon romance, especially because the show has a season 2 and we'll have time to see Loki develop earned, deserved romance with someone.

I'd much rather see them create a character just to be his boyfriend than have y'all push Marvel into making Lokius canon, which is a nonsense ship that only happened because Mobius is the only prominent male-presenting character before we meet the other Lokis.

My sincere wish is for people to remember that their ships are just ships and to enjoy them without getting all self-righteous about it. I TOLD y'all that Lokius wasn't gonna be canon like 4 episodes back, and here y'all are acting shocked and like Marvel took something from you. NOBODY expected y'all to ship Lokius. It's not even queerbait.

You can make clear arguments as to why Sambucky was queerbait. It's there in undertones in the actual series.

You cannot watch Loki and tell me you thought it was queerbait, unless you think men can't have conversations or hug goodbye without being romantically involved. Which means, in my opinion, that you need to learn about healthy masculinity.

Again, this is not a defense of Marvel. They DO need to let characters be queer, for real, and not just by saying " A bit of both". Like, let Loki be queer. Let Deadpool be queer. Let these queer characters be queer on screen. Yes.

But please stop making it about your ship. I'd rather see a flashback of Loki dating a guy and see him kiss someone he loved back on Asgard than watch y'all force Lokius. Because my queer rep is not about your crackship. It really isn't. And the fact that y'all keep calling us homophobic for not liking your ship REALLY needs to be addressed.

Like, when will y'all stop? I got on Stucky shippers about this shit in the past. All of us gay as hell, too, we just don't like YOUR ship. A lot of us like other queer ships. A lot of us like queer ships in other fandoms, too, and even have queer OCs. YOUR ship just ain't it. Stop forcing it. Literally, most of the ship wars between MCU fans have been queer ship vs queer ship, not really queer ship vs straight ship. Like, the number one Stucky rival ship was Stony. Not Steggy. People are not homophobic for not wanting your ship.

Sometimes it's because they ship something else.

And sometimes, like me, it's because they want something to make sense narratively and not happen for the sake of it happening. It's always better writing to have a character meetcute a new love interest than to magically turn a platonic friendship into a romantic relationship. Like, even when the characters are straight. Like, when Moesha dated Hakeem. It was just weird, even if he was kind of a great boyfriend. He was just supposed to be her friend, and people didn't really like it because it didn't fit narratively.

And that's why ships for the most part should be left to fanfiction, with the exception of a few where fans are right to call out the writers for not making it canon because it's clearly bait (like what happened to Destiel shippers. To see Lokius shippers compare themselves to THAT was so ridiculous. Destiel shippers had a decade of evidence only to be let down by a criminally unfair ending. Lokius shippers saw two men have a deep conversation once and lost their minds.)

Anyway, I'm not saying don't ship Lokius. I don't even hate it, really. I just think it obviously shouldn't be canon, and fans pretending like they were robbed of it is ridiculous. Literally, Ao3 exists for this reason. I will never see Steve fuck Sam Wilson, so I wrote it into my fanfic. I am not mad that they didn't actually date in the main MCU storyline.

[ikuzeminna]

Scene Analysis - Heero’s Farewell

AKA The Helmet Scene

This is one of the most famous scenes in the entire series. And it’s certainly one of the most interesting as well, thanks to a number of factors. We have a mood change, we have Heero finally fulfilling his promise to Relena to bid her farewell, we have a clear picture of how their relationship has evolved throughout the series, we have a retcon of the previous episode to make this scene work and a million other things, frankly. So, let’s get to dissecting it.

First, the setup. The previous two episodes, episode 46 and 47, present us with a Heero who, in my opinion, acts a lot like during the beginning of the series. It may just be me, but he comes off as rather brusque. Sure, he and Relena may be throwing compliments at each other, but there is a curtness to his tone and the ordering around (”You’ll stay here with me”) that annoy me personally. When Relena initially asks him if he came for her he even deflects, claiming that Noin and the others are worried about her. Sure.

Again, I don’t like it.

If I had to guess, I’d say Ikeda’s intention of not making their relationship romantic but keeping it symbolic paired with being unable to write normal teenager relationships is at play here. I’m putting the blame on him since he is the director, but I may be wrong, so sorry if I am. In any case, the farewell between Heero and Relena is just a loaded glance. They don’t speak, there is a huge distance between them, they just look at each other meaningfully and then Heero gets ready to fight. It’s pretty much Earth and Space, ever at a distance, yet bound by ...uh, something.

Come episode 48, the other writers apparently bound and gagged Ikeda, locked him up in a closet and gave us take 2 of the farewell, which the fandom knows as the helmet scene. And it really shows that someone else was in charge during the last two episodes because we suddenly have the most gentle, most tender sounding Heero in the entire series, complete with sparkly eyes and teddy bears.

And this, I like because the point of Heero’s character arc is regaining his humanity. So having him act like in the beginning kinda ruins that. So thank you, person, who made these decisions.

To clarify, episode 47 has Relena in a dark hangar with her helmet in her hands looking up at Heero who is about to board Wing Zero. He then enters the cockpit and closes it. That’s apparently the end of their interaction. Come episode 48 though, the hangar is lit, the helmets are on and the cockpit is wide open for Relena to jump up and talk to Heero one last time.

And here we see the aforementioned mood change. Gone is Heero’s brusque tone and his weird reluctance to admit any kind of fondness or affection. Instead, he freaking pulls her in during the conversation, because an inch from your face is the ideal distance when speaking to a person apparently. And not just that; he is softly smiling at her the whole time and instead of making it an order, he gently asks her to let him go.

I trust everyone can see how glaringly different this is from their interaction in the previous two episodes.

And there is so much more still. In their conversation Heero reveals his newly made promise to protect Relena (and the Earth Sphere). This goes aaaall the way back to Cinq, where he initially told Quatre he didn’t see much sense in fighting for Relena or her country. Through the various events, he did end up protecting her though, then he was forced to attempt to assassinate her again as Chief Representative of Romefeller and now we are at the point where the peace Relena promises, or at least wants to fight for, is something that Heero believes in.

This is so important for his character because he was the guy who would spout stuff like peace only being the result of war and not believing in it. This is also the lesson he later tries to make Wufei see in their fight in Endless Waltz. Heero is not a soldier anymore at that point; he has become a normal kid who belongs to and wishes for a peaceful world. So yeah, very important moment here.

It really makes me wonder why anyone thought the loaded stare of ep. 47 was enough.

Even more so because here Heero finally fulfills the promise he made Relena back in Cinq: he bids her farewell before leaving. Back in Cinq, and frankly, in all their previous interactions, Heero would just up and leave without a word. It started in episode 6, it happened in 10 and again in Cinq when he went on the suicide mission to Luxembourg. And Relena didn’t even ask anything special of him. She just wanted him to let her know when he’d leave. She didn’t demand a reason, she didn’t want to give him permission, it was just a simple goodbye she wanted.

Yet, Heero does all of the above when they talk. He tells her why he leaves to fight, he asks her to let him go and when she refuses, thinking he is intending to kill himself again for the billionth time, Heero shines even more light on his character development by telling her to believe in him. He isn’t trying to die on the battlefield.

Heero pushes Relena out of the cockpit at this point and gives her a look that honestly creeps me out a little even to this day, as the cockpit closes and he maneuvers Wing Zero into position to take off. Relena, placated by his plea and stare, says the she does believe in him.

And then, because he may not plan to die but is prepared to do so nonetheless if it can bring peace, he actually holds up his end of the promise and tells her that which she previously wished to hear. And it’s wonderful, because he really shouldn’t have.

See, at this point Relena has witnessed and heard of seven attempts and brushes with death of Heero’s. On the beach, at the harbor, falling down the side of the hospital, blowing himself up with his Gundam, asking the Noventas to kill him, nearly getting slaughtered by Zechs and then later by the mobile dolls in Luxembourg, this girl has seen a lot with him. So it’s a very reasonable assumption of hers to think he would do the same thing again here and throw his life away. Which is why Heero has to assure her that’s not his intention.

But because he knows the risks, he knows this might be the last time they talk, so he kinda chickens out a bit there after that bold “believe in me” and bids her farewell nonetheless, just to be on the safe side, I assume. Because he later also tells her not to worry over him since his life isn’t worth much anyway.

And while getting her wish of hearing a goodbye should normally make her happy, Relena freaks here. Here he is, a friend she has known for a long time and who means a lot to her, as he was what gave her the strength to carry on after her father died, sounding like he isn’t going to return. And Relena is heartbroken because Heero is important to her. The parallels to her father show us how much Heero’s death would affect her.

Her crying out Heero’s name in that agonized manner isn’t meant to be taken romantically. This is a girl fearing her friend will die.

I really love this entire scene because it not only gives us heaps of character development and normal human interaction, which those two sorely lack, it also brings a bunch of stuff full circle, illustrates their personalities well and makes for another interesting break from traditions.

What I mean with the last point is that normally (or at least in the 90s), the guy is all business when he has to go out and fight, being all stoically manly about it, while the woman will be emotional and initiate one final time of intimacy, and the guy may respond before going off to battle. I have this overblown image of Chuck Norris, Steven Seagal, Clint Eastwood type of flicks in my head. You know, the manly stuff.

And here we have Gundam Wing, where Relena doesn’t even care about herself or her feelings for him, but instead is only concerned about Heero’s well-being. Which is why I would have totally bought Relena’s feelings for Heero being purely platonic had Endless Waltz with that super tender caress not happened.

Which also portrays her natural selflessness, in contrast to Heero’s credo of living life acting on your emotions. And boy does he act. He is very much cranking up the romance here with how close he pulls her to him and how very tenderly he speaks to her. Ship it or not, it’s obvious here he likes her. Which in turn tints all their previous interactions.

Ikeda might have wanted a purely symbolic relationship between them, but the geniuses behind this episode ruined that. They gave us Heero displaying his feelings for her, which in turn made all that came before a massive slow burn of sorts.

Hah.

This is something I find highly amusing personally. If you removed the helmet scene and that caress from Endless Waltz, I wouldn’t see it. But those two scenes are enough to make me believe there are feelings there and it’s amazing to see how little it takes to make me change my mind. Then again, Gundam Wing is big on subtlety so this is practically on par with screaming it from the rooftops.

But still, thank you. Thank you writers for inserting this scene and generally giving us two amazing final episodes. You hit all the right marks in my book.

[kourikuto]

People Can Whisper If They Like

(A/N: AU about Sai has a new singer and writer, going to sing one of his new songs to the people there, who judged him because the name of the song should be sung by a female (women, girl :l ) but by the end everyone is happy that he sung it and it made the feeling for it better. Idk how to summaries)

           -Song: Prom Queen by Beach Bunny-

            -Sai to Everyone but mostly Naruto-

 People in the crowd whispered to each other, some to those they knew and didn’t. “It’s a new band, think their good?” One of them asked, leaning over to grab their friend’s hand.

 “Uh- maybe?! I heard the singer was friends with Naruto Uzumaki! And his whole band too!” The friend answered back, a little tipsy from the liquid he had moments ago. 

 A different group started talking about the lead singer, “Think it’s gonna be a girl?” A teen asked while nodding to background music that always played between songs or different bands or solos. 

 One of them scoffed at the question, “Of course it’s going to be a girl, the name is literally named ‘Prom Queen’. Are you dum or something.” 

 “But a guy can be pro-” the soft voice was quickly cut off by the same guy.

 “Did none of you read tonight’s information about  the songs that will be played, or did all of you just read about a new band that will be playing?!” He shouted, snaking his arms around someone only snatch their drink. 

 “No, I think all of us read the handfli-'' They were drowned out by the shouts of people around them.

 A black haired teen with a red crop top and tight white jeans stepped out of the curtains, the dull lights all turned to him and turned to a bright yellow color, showing the crowd the singer was a male and not a female. Two other people stepped out and got into their own places as the teen picked up a guitar.  

 “The person and song you all have been waiting for tonight is; Sai and his newly released song: Prom Queen!” A random voice popped in, shouting over the people in the room to make sure everyone heard. “Now! Do not fret! Sai here might look a bit vanilla like but! I reassure you lot that he is better than anyone we had for a long time!” 

 “Thanks, that doesn’t help my heart at all.” Sai grumbled under breathe, sighing to himself before nodding towards the two people, that the place picked for him, to get ready. 

 Picking at the string of the new guitar, he started to play a simple back and forth sound while a bass guitar followed suit “Shut up, count your calories. I never looked good in mom jeans.” Sai hummed out softly before the drums hit, “Wish I was like you! Blue-eyed blondie, perfect body.”

 Taking a deep breath, the teen quieted down again. “Maybe I should try harder. You should lower your expectations, I’m no quick- curl barbie.” People stood silently for seconds before dancing awfully at the new tune. The people who were upset about it being a guy who was singing didn’t mind any longer, they could think about that later. “I was never cut out for prom queen. If I get more pretty.. do you think he will like me?” 

 The drums were hit hard once again, taking the air out of everyone as Sai raised his voice with it. “Dissect my insecurities! I’m a defect, surgical project project.  It’s gett-ing hard to breathe, there’s plastic wrap in my cheeks.” He belted out before lowering his voice, “Maybe I should try harder- You should lower your beauty standards, I’m no quick-curl barbie, I was never cut out for prom queen.” 

 “If I’m pretty, will you like me? They say ‘beauty makes boys happy’ ” His voice cracked with a sigh. (People screamed some yes’s and a couple of no’s) He lifted his eyes from the guitar and to the crowd of people, who were dancing, laughing, and trying to copy the lyrics to the new melody. “I’ve been starving myself, carving skin until my bones are showing- teach me how to be okay.” 

 Sai lifted his head with a smile of his face, “I don’t wanna downplay my emotions-” The drums were hit at the same time the strings of the bass guitar moved, Sai’s own guitar moved roughly with the two. “They say ‘beauty is vain, you’ll only be happy if you look a certain way’ “

 Sai stopped, the instruments taking over the song before he softly mumbled, “I wanna be okay…. I wanna be okay.” Slowly the sound of the drums and guitars drifted away with Sai’s voice, the music coming to end before gently dropping one of the guitars onto the stage, as it was before, and bowed, a smile still plastered on his pale face. 

 Standing straight up, people loudly capped and shouted compliments towards him and the other two members, Sai slightly bowed again before heading for the red curtains. Like before people whispered about him, but this time in a much better way. 

(796 words)

(A/N: This is one of many little stories about Naruto character(s) singing about or to other character(s). I’ll try my best to do write about different characters and different ships other then my main ones.)

The first one!: (Kinda SasukeSakura but not really- like really really not there at all) + Naruto

https://kourikuto.tumblr.com/post/658714438556352512/old-things-come-back-for-the-best 

[365days365movies]

February 7, 2021: Emma. (2020)

Another late one, people! Tomorrow might be a bit later, too, full warning. Like I said, school’s back in session, and I got students to teach and class to prepare!

When I was a kid, I was a pretty avid reader, mostly due to my mom’s drive to get me to be an avid reader. I read Shakespeare from an early age, which might be why I like it so much, and why I remember it so well. 

I also read Jane Austen’s Emma when I was 10 years old. On a related note, I remember none of Jane Austen’s Emma. On another related note, I’m fairly certain that I saw its most famous adaptation, Clueless, and I don’t remember that either.

I’m tempted to rewatch that one, since I don’t remember it AT ALL, but I figure that I’m going to place a more direct adaptation of the work first on my list of priorities. And so, one of the ONLY movies to come out last year is one my list, starring an up-and-coming “it girl,” Anya Taylor-Joy.

From what I can tell, this is a fairly popular movie on this platform, so I’m looking forward to watching it, despite knowing NOTHING about it, other than the fact that it’s a romance drama, and based off of a classic British novel by Jane Austen. Shall we? SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

Emma Woodhouse (Anya Taylor-Joy) lives in the 1815 English countryside, with her father, Mr. Woodhouse (Bill Nighy), and her caretaker, Mrs. Taylor (Gemma Whelan). However, this is about to change, as she is to marry Mr. Weston (Rupert Graves) that day.

Emma is a sweet girl, who seems to be ale to predict things to pass. She also set up the present marriage, although she seems not to want one for herself. However, she also seems interested in the whereabouts of Mr. Taylor’s son, Frank. He never shows up, though.

Meanwhile, the Woodhouses are visited by George Knightley (Johnny Flynn), whom her father favors, and whom Emma seems to clash with. And Imma call it now: they totally end up together in the end. I mean, c’mon.

Emma’s trying to replace Mrs. Weston nee Taylor as a governness, despite the fact that her father doesn’t want it. Emma finds Harriet Smith (Mia Goth), a young women whom she goes to school with, and apparently might be the illegitimate daughter of a nobleman. She’s also interested in setting Harriet up, as Emma prides her skills as a matchmaker.

However, Harriet’s already interested in a local farmer, Robert Martin (Connor Swindels), but Emma’s trying to set her up with a local vicar, Elton (Josh O’Connor). They go to meet Mrs. Weston, and Emma introduces herself to Elton, who she believes likes her in return.

The next day, Emma and Harriet go to the store, where the gossipy busybody Miss Bates (Miranda Hart) comes to speak with the VERY unwilling Emma, and the considerably more interested Harriet. Miss Bates is speaking up her niece, Jane, although Emma certainly doesn’t seen to care nearly as much as Miss Bates thinks she does.

On the way home, Harriet and Emma encounter Robert Martin, and Emma's definitely not a fan of that potential relationship. Instead, she regularly puts down Mr. Martin, and talks up Vicar Elton.

As Elton and Harriet begin getting closer, and Emma seems to be vindicated in support of the relationship she set up, Knightley’s...not impressed. In a conversation with Mrs. Weston, he basically says that she gets high on flattery, and while she isn’t necessarily a true narcissist, she still NEEDS approval from her peers and others. That’s why she’s setting up Harriet, who feeds her constant flattery.

In addition, her whole “never going to get married” thing doesn’t seem to fly with George, here, who’d like her to fall in love with someone who isn’t...well, a simp, let’s be honest here. And honestly, this is already an interesting character dissection, and I can dig it.

Knightley complicates matters for Emma, when he convinces Martin to write a letter, asking for Harriet’s hand in marriage. However, due to Emma’s subtle manipulations, she convinces Harriet to refuse the proposal, despite the fact that she clearly wants to say yes. And while Emma might be beautiful, and quite smart...yeah, she’s a bitch. Or, at the very least, she acts like one for her own benefit.

Knightley, pissed off about this whole thing, confronts Emma about her manipulations, and states that Martin might be the ideal match for Harriet. After calling her out, and warning her that Elton miiiiiiight be a bit of a ladies’ man, and that he’s certainly the wrong match for Harriet in the end. Emma admits that she mostly wants to keep Harriet for herself.

Autumn turns to Winter, and Emma’s older sister Isabella Knightley (Chloe Pirrie), and her husband John Knightley (Oliver Chris) (and George’s younger brother) come to visit Emma and her father for the holidays. George and Emma make amends, although Emma still won’t admit that she may have been wrong.

Christmas Day comes, and Harriet is sick, while Frank Churchill once again neglects to appear at the house of his father and new wife. George berates his neglect of his familial duties, while Emma argues in his favor, obviously harboring a crush on him still.

At dinner, Elton makes a remark about snow, causing LITERALLY EVERYBODY to leave the party prematurely, and Emma’s father accidentally leaves her behind. Elton, however, offers to give her a ride in his carriage. And in the carriage, he reveals that not only does he actually love Emma, but that he doesn’t care for Harriet at fucking ALL. Fuckin’ WHOOF.

Looks like Elton’s misread EVERY POSSIBLE SIGNAL, and Emma FUCKED UP SOMETHING FIERCE. Harriet is quite saddened by this, and is about to destroy a portrait of herself that Emma made for her. However, Emma instead keeps it. Elton disappears for a number of weeks, just as the niece of Miss Bates, Jane Fairfax (Amber Anderson) suddenly reappears.

At dinner, it’s revealed that Jane appears to know Frank Churchill, as they live in the same place. During a piano performance of Jane’s that’s WAY BETTER than Emma’s performance, it’s also revealed that Emma’s been compared to her all of her life, giving her some fat, fat insecurities!

After an awkward encounter with Mr. Martin, Harriet goes to the Martin household to visit his sisters. Meanwhile, the long-awaited arrival of Frank Churchill (Callum Turner) comes, and Emma is unsurprisingly smitten with him. He asks her for a dance at an upcoming dinner, and she accepts.

Knightley is, of course, not impressed with the worldly gentleman. Meanwhile, someone has apparently delivered a pianoforte to Jane Fairfax, and it’s pretty goddamn obvious that it was Frank Churchill. Although, it’s possible that it was George Knightley, who’s been matched to her by Mrs. Weston.

And it’s at this point that I should point out that GODDAMN THIS IS A SOAP-OPERA OF A MOVIE. The hyper-detailed intentions and events, all happening within the confines of high society and etiquette are both overly intricate, while also managing to be...weirdly enrapturing.

The next morning, after a six-week absence, Elton’s come back to town with brand new wife, Augusta Elton (Tanya Reynolds) in tow. Augusta matches Emma’s passive-aggressiveness measure-for-goddamn-measure, which, yeah, PISSES EMMA OFF.

But it’s still good news on the horizon, as Frank’s appearance has prompted the Westons to hold a ball. While Emma and Frank seem to be getting along, Elton is prevented to opportunity to dance with Harriet, only to refuse LIKE AN ABSOLUTE TAINT. On the verge of tears, Harriet’s rescued by George, and they dance alongside the rest of the partygoers.

Emma shows his appreciation for this, and Knightley returns his appreciation for her friendship with Harriet, who’s way goddamn better than Augusta. The two decide to dance together, and the two basically fall in love RIGHT GODDAMN THERE AND I AM GODDAMN HERE FOR IT.

Which sucks, because I’m, what, a little more than halfway in? No way it’s this easy.

And as Knightley and Emma realize their feelings the next day, they actually run towards each other, SEE each other...and then get iterrupted by Frank carrying Harriet post-her being attacked by muggers GOD FUCKING DAMMIT REALLY?

Plus, it looks like Harriet might be in love with Knightley now, after the previous night. HowEVER, since the previous night, Emma is now in love with Knightley, and believes that Harriet’s feelings are directed towards her rescuer, Frank Churchill. But Frank’s in love with Jane. Like, for sure he’s in love with Jane. And Knightley’s in love with Emma, although Mrs. Weston believes that he’s in love with ane, as he leant her his chariot the previous night, although he DIDN’T do that, and the chariot (and piano) must’ve come from Frank, who’s actually in love with her, not Harriet, as Emma believes. YOU GOT THAT? BECAUSE I’M ASTONISHED THAT I DO

Summer comes, and there seemingly no major changes to the love lives of our main characters. Can’t say that for George’s mansion, as he’s unveiled all of the paintings in the place.

Might be wrong about the progression of relationship thing, as George and Harriet appear to be getting along, and Emma and George suddenly...aren’t. And THEN, Jane tells Ema that she’s feeling super down at the moment, and leaves. Which is when Frank shows up, which Emma appears to not be super happy about.

Later, at a luncheon, Emma takes out her emotions upon Miss Bates who, while kind of annoying during the film, doesn’t deserve the insult lobbied her way by Emma. Afterwards, George DESTROYS her, and she...she gets it. She’s been an asshole.

After a good cry, she goes to apologize to Miss Bates, who immediately forgives her, as she tends to do. It’s also pretty quickly revealed after that that we find out that Frank has ALWAYS been engaged to Jane, since he arrived to Highbury. AND, Emma finally findss out that Harriet’s in love with George, not Frank. Which...yeah, Emma’s not a huge fan of, for obvious reasons.

However, Emma points out that George might have been trying to get Harriet involved with Mr. Martin, but also tries to step back. However, Harriet RIGHTLY calls her out this time, bringing up the fact that Emma fancies George, and that it’s because of Emma that she refused Mr. Martin. And Emma finally gets it. ALL of it.

George, hearing of Frank’s engagement, goes to comfort Emma in her time of distress. And after railing out Frank for his lying ass, he starts to confess his true feelings to Emma. But she tries to stop him, but THERE AIN’T NO STOPPIN’ LOVE BABY

And as he STRAIGHT-UP PROPOSES to her...her nose bleeds and she says no.

Finally, it’s confirmed that George was speaking on Mr. Matin’s behalf, not his own, and Emma pledges to make things right herself. She delivers the painting of Harriet to Mr. Martin, and he proposes to her. Harriet accepts, and has also finally heard from her father, who isn’t a nobleman at all, but a shoemaker. Emma still invites them over to their estate, and the two make up as friends.

And speaking of making up, George and Emma also make up, and the two are officially engaged to be wed. And it’s honestly...quite lovely. Which describes the whole film, which comes to a close.

WHEW. Now THAT...was a Recap. See you in the Review!

[snkpolls]

SnK Episode 68 Poll Results (for Anime Only Watchers)

The poll closed with 59 responses. Thank you to everyone who participated!

Please note that these are the results for the Anime Only Watchers’ poll. If you wish to see the results for the Manga Readers’ poll, click here.

Anime only watchers, beware of spoilers if you venture over to the manga readers’ poll results.

--

RATE THE EPISODE 53 Responses

The response was overwhelmingly positive with 88.7% of responses giving the episode a 4 or a 5. In addition, there weren’t any 1s or 2s this time around. A noted contrast to the previous episode. Suppose Sasha’s death ruined the experience for some.

it epic

I NEED MORE

awesome

WHICH OF THE FOLLOWING MOMENTS WAS YOUR FAVORITE? 55 Responses

The scene with the largest amount of reception (18.2%) was the final scene of the episode, where Eren repeats his mantra to himself in the mirror while revealing his new look. Behind that was the reveal that Armin is talking to Annie (10.9%). At a tie (9.1%), people most enjoyed Hange’s eccentric greeting to the Marleyan soldiers and Onyankopon explaining why he believes people are different. At another tie (7.3%), were the scenes where Sasha is enjoying Nicolo’s cooking, and the scene where Eren is washing himself at the sink.

WHAT WAS THE MOST EMOTIONAL PART OF THE VISIT TO SASHA’S GRAVE? 57 Responses

The visit to Sasha’s grave was packed with many tragic moments. According to the responders, the most emotional of those was Connie’s line about losing “his half” (47.4%). Following that we have the scene of grieving Mikasa with 24.6%. In third place is Nicolo’s general grief. Other responses were, in this order, Sasha’s Father agreeing to a free meal from Nicolo, seeing the girl that Sasha saved from a Titan all those years ago and simply Sasha’s family appearing.

AFTER SEVERAL TENSE AND ACTION PACKED EPISODES, HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT THE TRANSITION TO SOMETHING MORE CALM? 53 Responses

Ever since the series started, AoT has had a clear contrast between the content of its episodes. Episode 68 of the series notably contrasts with the prior 3-4 episodes. So we wanted to know how the fans respond to these sorts of things. 32.1% stated that they enjoyed the slower paced episode after weeks of chaos. An equal number of responders (32.1%) noted that although they far preferred the action-based content, they understood the need for the slower episodes. A little over 13% said they actually preferred the exposition-esque content, so they were happy with the change and finally, a bit over 11% stated that they were indifferent. 

I view exposition equally as important as action. 

Watching the show dissect what happened before and after the attack on Marley made everything so clear, I love how they were able to capture the drama of both sequences

I'm definetly here more dialogue heavy epiodes and flashbacks but maybe with a slower pacing. It felt a little messy because the episode was also dealing with Sasha's as well as backstory. I think thst was probably intentional though.

They both have their merits.

Still feels great

WOULD YOU RATHER GET A SURPRISE GREETING FROM EREN & HANGE, OR ARMIN & LEVI? 55 Responses

Marleyan Soldiers got two sets of surprises in this episode. One from Eren and Hange, one from Armin and Levi. The fans would clearly prefer to get one of those from Eren and Hange (78.2%) than Armin and Lavi (21.8%).

ON A SCALE OF 1-5, HOW HAPPY ARE YOU TO BE BACK ON PARADIS? 55 Responses

We recently returned to Paradis Island and according to the responders, it was a much wanted development, with 85.4% giving a 4 or a 5 when it comes to hype about the return to the island.

ARMIN SAYS THAT ONCE EREN INFILTRATED MARLEY, THERE WAS NO OTHER CHOICE BUT TO ATTACK IN ORDER TO PREVENT IMMEDIATE RETALIATION. DO YOU AGREE WITH HIM? 55 Responses

The raid on Liberio is being questioned not only by the audiences, but also by the characters in-universe. Still, when it comes to Armin’s justification for the attack, the majority (69.1%) think that there was no other choice for Paradis, be it because they could afford to lose Eren/Founding Titan or because Marley would have retaliated easily. Others (~10%) think that they either should have made more effort to find Eren before it came to the raid or should have just let him go. 14.5% simply aren’t sure. 

They had no choice but to retrieve Eren, but that doesn't necessarily mean a full blown attack. I think Armin is trying to convince himself here. 

Yes. Marley could have captured Eren and had Zeke or someone else eat him for the founding powers.

DO YOU THINK IT’S PLAUSIBLE THAT MARLEY WILL FIND A WAY TO QUICKLY COUNTERATTACK ANYWAY? 53 Responses

When it comes to Marley, one could wonder if they will attempt a quick counterattack. 67.9% believe so, 15.1% dissent. And 9.4% state that they have been spoiled.  For the write-in responder who feels that we are spoiling via the question itself, we assure you that anything we ask here had once been a matter of debate among manga readers when the corresponding chapters were fresh and we did not know the outcome. We would just like to give anime only watchers the same opportunity to have these debates. 

I don't know.

The fleet has been destroyed, but what about the airforce (if they have one)? I doubt Paradis has the mean to counter that. 

I'm not really sure honestly

This question is a spoiler itself: if you ask this, maybe it means that's what will happen. Thank you.

WHEN EREN FIRES HIS GUN AT THE END OF EMA’S TALK, IT TRANSITIONS TO SASHA TAKING A BULLET IN THE PREVIOUS EPISODE. DO YOU FEEL THAT THE NARRATIVE IS TRYING TO PIN THE BLAME SOLELY ON EREN? 55 Responses

Eren’s rifle shot was juxtaposed with Sasha’s death, showcasing a possible thread in the narrative. Does the narrative believe that Eren is to blame for Sasha’s death? 38.2% think it’s a yes and 45.5% think it’s a possibility. On the other hand, almost 11% don’t think the story is trying to go for that route. 

While I don’t think it’s trying to pin the blame solely on Eren. I think it’s trying to say he shares a large portion of the blame.

He may be partly at fault, but not fully.

Yes. But they shouldn't. Because it was GabBitch who killed Sasha, and GabBitch alone.

DO YOU BELIEVE THAT ZEKE, YELENA AND THE VOLUNTEERS ARE SINCERE IN THEIR WISH TO HELP PARADIS? 55 Responses

Zeke, Yelena and Co. are a set of characters. Are they a trustworthy set of characters? Certainly up to debate. 67.8% believe they’re trustworthy to a degree, at the very least. In contrast to 23.6% who find no trust in them. A select few have been spoiled. 

Mmm Yelena & co. maybe...I love Zeke but he's big sus this season

I think they are loyal to Zeke, and his goal is to get the funding titan. At the moment, this means allying themselves with Paradis, but that could easily change. 

They are very sus, Yelena is especially loose. IDK who they'll be loyal too.

DO YOU THINK THAT EREN WANTS TO USE THE WALL TITANS AS A SIMPLE DETERRENT, OR DOES HE WANT TO FLATTEN THE EARTH? 55 Responses

The possibility of a Rumbling has been brought up more than a few times throughout the series (mostly this season) and the question remains, “will Eren use the Rumbling to flatten the Earth?” 60% think that’ll be the case, in contrast to almost 11% who dissent. 27.3% were already spoiled about the outcome. 

That idiot definetly wants to flatten the earth. Empathy and logic has never been Erens strong suit.

DO YOU THINK THAT EMA HAVE BECOME MORE DISTANT FROM EACH OTHER? 55 Responses

The iconic EMA trio has been together through thick and thin, so something truly must happen for them to “break up”, so to say. Would one say that they have grown apart? 56.4% think so, but only insofar as Eren goes. 25.5% believe that they all have grown apart to a degree. 9.1% dissent to these assertions and a select few have been spoiled. 

Even Mikasa and Armin seem distant! They were coping on their own after coming back to Paradis. 

I like to refer to them as E     MA. lol. Yehhhh anyway- somethings defs off with them.

ARMIN SAID HE DIDN’T SEE ANY NOTEWORTHY MEMORIES FROM BERTOLT WHEN EREN ASKED HIM ABOUT IT. DO YOU THINK HE’S BEING TRUTHFUL? 55 Responses

A whole bunch of people doubt Armin’s statement about not seeing anything useful in Bertolt’s memories (81.8%), though some (14.5%) think the boy’s telling the truth. A select few have been spoiled.

DO YOU THINK MIKASA IS LOSING HOPE IN THE WORDS THAT ONCE GAVE HER STRENGTH? 56 Responses

Long ago, Mikasa stated that one must fight, survive and win. If they don’t fight, they won’t survive and will lose. But with some losses drumming up on the plate, could she start doubting this mantra? 46.4% believe that we cannot say one way or another until we see more. 26.8% don’t believe that Sasha’s death will shake her confidence in that belief and it’s just a brief moment of doubt, in contrast to 23.2% who believe that Sasha’s demise will irreparably change Mikasa’s philosophy. 

No....? I did't even realise she was that close to Sasha. I feel like if she loses Eren THEN she'll lose hope.

what words?

Mikasa deserves better than emo world destroyer Eren!!! She's too pure.

EREN SEEMED TO BE MISSING WHEN THE SURVEY CORPS WERE INTERACTING WITH THE VOLUNTEERS. WHY DO YOU THINK THAT MIGHT BE? 54 Responses

Eren wasn’t present when the others were interacting with the volunteers. Some believe it is noteworthy, others do not think so. 38.9% simply aren’t certain. 29.6% think it’s the SC decision to keep Eren away from Zeke’s followers. On the other, 20.4% predict that it was Eren’s own choice of isolation. A select few have simply been spoiled.

Didn’t notice this until now

Maybe he had already left for Marley?

ARMIN WAS HOPEFUL THAT THEY COULD SOLVE THEIR PROBLEMS THROUGH DIPLOMACY. EREN FELT THAT PEACE WAS NEVER AN OPTION. WHO DO YOU AGREE WITH MORE? 54 Responses

A noted contrast in Eren and Armin’s beliefs was showcased in this episode. 57.4% find themselves siding more with Eren’s anti-diplomatic measures, while 42.6% support Armin’s more peaceful ways.

WE GOT A GLIMPSE OF ANNIE IN THIS EPISODE. WHAT BEST MATCHES YOUR THOUGHTS? 55 Responses

Annie has been encased in that crystal for years at this point, both in and out of universe. Is she going to get out of that crystal? Just a little over 69% believe so, in contrast to the one person who doesn’t. 23.6% were spoiled one way or another. 

Sis is running out of time...it would really suck if her 13 years were up before she even got out of her lil crystal

This has GOT to wake up, surely.

She got a nose reduction surgery

HOW DO YOU THINK ZEKE WILL RATE HIS STAY AT THE HOTEL OF GIANT TREES? 55 Responses

Zeke seemed shocked to find his hotel to be a forest of Giant Trees. An iconic location, seen throughout the series. We asked how you believe Zeke will rate his stay. A plurality (40%) think that he won’t be there long enough to do so. 29.1% believe he’ll give it an average score, in contrast to 23.6% who imagine Zeke loving his getaway! 7.3% have been spoiled.

WHAT BEST DESCRIBES YOUR FEELINGS ABOUT PIXIS ARRESTING THE VOLUNTEERS? 55 Responses

It would appear Pixis detained the volunteers while the SC were away. The majority (52.7%) don’t find it to be a controversial decision, noting that both parties have a mutual understanding between each other. A noted minority (29.1%) thought that it was actually the best course of action, arguing that the Paradisian Military has no way of knowing whether the volunteers are trustworthy or not now that Zeke is here on Paradis. In contrast, 18.2% thought that it was mistake, given how much assistance the Volunteers have provided to the islanders.

WHAT DO YOU MAKE OF THE WAY THE PARADISIANS ARE SEEN TREATING MARLEYANS? 55 Responses

We saw some noted mistreatment of Marleyans by the Paradisians this episode. So we asked the responders what their thoughts were on this development. A plurality (47.3%) couldn’t say one way or the other and needed to see more to pass their judgment. 34.5% were open in their condemnation of those actions, in contrast to the 12.7% who were supportive of such activities. 

Cycle of haaaate. No one is justified in acting that way but it's understandable that they do

Some good, some bad. Military police doing the worst of course. 

An eye for an eye ✌

ADDITIONAL THOUGHTS ON THE EPISODE?

I don't know what to say anymore. This episode made me question my previous ideologies regarding the characters

In my opinion, this episode has more fanservice than usual, from the ship moments of Levihan and Aruani, and to the display of Mikasa's ass and Eren's abs, but Mappa is not over the top and can still get the plot moving and still have those moments that can move the viewers.

I believe in Onyankopon supremacy

Even though I love Mappa post timeskip designs, the pre timeskip design of some characters seemed a bit off to me (particularly Armin and Eren). It distracted me a bit from the action. 

Eren standing Infront of the mirror was way better in manga. Mappa need to put more effort. No hate tho. 

Idk, didn't blow me away. I'm seriously concerned for Armin, he's definetly losing it. Appreciated the flashbacks and the new characters too. Onyankopon has captured my mf heart, if he dies, I die too. 😌

Chad Eren

Niccolo x Sasha OTP

What the shit dude…

Gabi will forever be the worst character to me, no matter what the anime tries to do to justify her

WHERE DO YOU PRIMARILY DISCUSS THE SERIES? 54 Responses

Thanks again to everyone who responded!

[aboveallarescuer]

Daenerys Targaryen in A Storm of Swords vs Game of Thrones - Episode 3.5: Kissed by Fire

In this series of posts, I intend to analyze precisely how the show writers downplayed or erased several key aspects of Daenerys Targaryen’s characterization, even when they had the books to help them write her as the compelling, intelligent, compassionate, frugal, open-minded and self-critical character that GRRM created.

I want to make it clear that these posts are not primarily meant to offer a better alternative to what the show writers gave us. I understand that they had many constraints (e.g. other storylines to handle, a limited amount of time to write the scripts, budget, actors who may have asked for a certain number of lines, etc) working against them. However, considering how disrespectful the show’s ending was to Daenerys Targaryen and how the book material that they left out makes it even more ludicrous to think that she will also become a villain in A Song of Ice and Fire, I believe that these reviews are more than warranted. They are meant to dissect everything about Dany’s characterization that was lost in translation, with a lot of book evidence to corroborate my statements.

Since these reviews will dissect scene by scene, I recommend taking a look at this post because I will use its sequence to order Dany’s scenes.

This post is relevant in case you want to know which chapters were adapted in which GoT episodes (however, I didn’t make the list myself, all the information comes from the GoT Wiki, so I can’t guarantee that it’s 100% reliable).

In general, I will call the Dany from the books “Dany” and the Dany from the TV series “show!Dany”.

Scene 5

This episode was written by Bryan Cogman, but he admits here that the scenes in Essos were actually written by D&D.

Before I talk about the scene itself, we need to consider that its premise is flawed to begin with. Neither Barristan nor Jorah are known for making jokes and being friendly and amusing in general, they are actually known for lacking a sense of humor:

And Daario Naharis made her laugh, which Ser Jorah never did. (ASOS Daenerys V)

~

"Give that tongue of yours a rest unless you'd rather I tied it in a knot."

Tyrion swallowed his retort. His lip was still fat and swollen from the last time he had pushed the big knight too far. Hard hands and no sense of humor makes for a bad marriage. That much he'd learned on the road from Selhorys. (ADWD Tyrion VII)

~

Twice exiled, and small wonder, Tyrion thought. I'd exile him too if I could. The man is cold, brooding, sullen, deaf to humor. And those are his good points. (ADWD Tyrion VIII)

*

Littlefinger was the last. As Ned looked to him, Lord Petyr stifled a yawn. "When you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman, the best thing to do is close your eyes and get on with it," he declared. "Waiting won't make the maid any prettier. Kiss her and be done with it."

"Kiss her?" Ser Barristan repeated, aghast.

"A steel kiss," said Littlefinger. (AGOT Eddard VIII)

~

In the purple hall, Dany found her ebon bench piled high about with satin pillows. The sight brought a wan smile to her lips. Ser Barristan’s work, she knew. The old knight was a good man, but sometimes very literal. It was only a jape, ser, she thought, but she sat on one of the pillows just the same. (ADWD Daenerys II)

Which is not to say that they can't ever laugh at people's jokes or make jokes themselves, but it's noticeable that the show's time to depict Dany's storyline is limited and that they still chose to write a scene that has little to do with their core personality traits.

Even more importantly, these two are unable to be friendly with one another because Jorah is too suspicious of Barristan and wants to isolate Dany from other men:

“In King’s Landing, your ancestors raised an immense domed castle for their dragons. The Dragonpit, it is called. It still stands atop the Hill of Rhaenys, though all in ruins now. That was where the royal dragons dwelt in days of yore, and a cavernous dwelling it was, with iron doors so wide that thirty knights could ride through them abreast. Yet even so, it was noted that none of the pit dragons ever reached the size of their ancestors. The maesters say it was because of the walls around them, and the great dome above their heads.”

“If walls could keep us small, peasants would all be tiny and kings as large as giants,” said Ser Jorah. “I’ve seen huge men born in hovels, and dwarfs who dwelt in castles.”

“Men are men,” Whitebeard replied. “Dragons are dragons.”

Ser Jorah snorted his disdain. “How profound.” The exile knight had no love for the old man, he’d made that plain from the first. “What do you know of dragons, anyway?” (ASOS Daenerys I)

~

“It was said that no man ever knew Prince Rhaegar, truly. I had the privilege of seeing him in tourney, though, and often heard him play his harp with its silver strings.”

Ser Jorah snorted. “Along with a thousand others at some harvest feast. Next you’ll claim you squired for him.” (ASOS Daenerys I)

~

“A warrior without peer ... those are fine words, Your Grace, but words win no battles.”

“Swords win battles,” Ser Jorah said bluntly. “And Prince Rhaegar knew how to use one.” (ASOS Daenerys I)


~

“...A change in the wind may bring the gift of victory.” He glanced at Ser Jorah. “Or a lady’s favor knotted round an arm.”

Mormont’s face darkened. “Be careful what you say, old man.”

Arstan had seen Ser Jorah fight at Lannisport, Dany knew, in the tourney Mormont had won with a lady’s favor knotted round his arm. He had won the lady too; Lynesse of House Hightower, his second wife, highborn and beautiful ... but she had ruined him, and abandoned him, and the memory of her was bitter to him now. “Be gentle, my knight.” She put a hand on Jorah’s arm. “Arstan had no wish to give offense, I’m certain.”

“As you say, Khaleesi.” Ser Jorah’s voice was grudging. (ASOS Daenerys I)

~

Ser Jorah watched with a frown on his blunt honest face. Mormont was big and burly, strong of jaw and thick of shoulder. Not a handsome man by any means, but as true a friend as Dany had ever known. “You would be wise to take that old man’s words well salted,” he told her when Whitebeard was out of earshot.

[...] “This Arstan Whitebeard is playing you false. He is too old to be a squire, and too well spoken to be serving that oaf of a eunuch.” (ASOS Daenerys I)

~

“Sit, good ser, and tell me what is troubling you.”

“Three things.” Ser Jorah sat. “Strong Belwas. This Arstan Whitebeard. And Illyrio Mopatis, who sent them.” (ASOS Daenerys I)

~

But when Mero was gone, Arstan Whitebeard said, “That one has an evil reputation, even in Westeros. Do not be misled by his manner, Your Grace. He will drink three toasts to your health tonight, and rape you on the morrow.”

“The old man’s right for once,” Ser Jorah said. (ASOS Daenerys IV)

~

“Whilst you have an honest beard, is that what you are telling me? You are the only man I should ever trust?”

He stiffened. “I did not say that.”

“You say it every day. Pyat Pree’s a liar, Xaro’s a schemer, Belwas a braggart, Arstan an assassin ... do you think I’m still some virgin girl, that I cannot hear the words behind the words?” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

~

“Khaleesi, before you kneels Ser Barristan Selmy, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, who betrayed your House to serve the Usurper Robert Baratheon.”

The old knight did not so much as blink. “The crow calls the raven black, and you speak of betrayal.” (ASOS Daenerys V)

I doubt their book counterparts would spend their time apart from Dany talking to each other about their pasts, and I think that's a significant change because it's another way that makes show!Jorah (whose book counterpart is a slaver who tries to groom, isolate and undermine Dany) be seen in a much more positive light than in the books.

*

JORAH: It was a bitch of a siege.

BARRISTAN: Mm, you were first through the breach at Pyke?

JORAH: The second. Thoros of Myr went in alone, waving that flaming sword of his.

BARRISTAN: Thoros of Myr. Bloody madman. Robert knighted you after the battle?

JORAH: Proudest moment of my life. One knee in the dust, the king's sword on my shoulder, listening to the words. "In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave." All I could think of was how badly I had to piss. In full plate metal for 16 hours. Never occurred to me till the fighting was over. I was very nearly the first man knighted to piss on the king's boots.

In the books, the siege of Pyke is brought up in this context:

“By then my father had taken the black, so I was Lord of Bear Island in my own right. I had no lack of marriage offers, but before I could reach a decision Lord Balon Greyjoy rose in rebellion against the Usurper, and Ned Stark called his banners to help his friend Robert. The final battle was on Pyke. When Robert’s stonethrowers opened a breach in King Balon’s wall, a priest from Myr was the first man through, but I was not far behind. For that I won my knighthood.”

“To celebrate his victory, Robert ordained that a tourney should be held outside Lannisport. It was there I saw Lynesse, a maid half my age. She had come up from Oldtown with her father to see her brothers joust. I could not take my eyes off her. In a fit of madness, I begged her favor to wear in the tourney, never dreaming she would grant my request, yet she did.”

[...] “What did she look like, your Lady Lynesse?”

Ser Jorah smiled sadly. “Why, she looked a bit like you, Daenerys.” He bowed low. “Sleep well, my queen.”

Dany shivered, and pulled the lionskin tight about her. She looked like me. It explained much that she had not truly understood. He wants me, she realized. He loves me as he loved her, not as a knight loves his queen but as a man loves a woman. She tried to imagine herself in Ser Jorah’s arms, kissing him, pleasuring him, letting him enter her. It was no good. When she closed her eyes, his face kept changing into Drogo’s.

[...] She had heard the longing in Ser Jorah’s voice when he spoke of his Bear Island. He can never have me, but one day I can give him back his home and honor. That much I can do for him. (ACOK Daenerys I)

As we can see above, the siege of Pyke is brought up to contextualize Jorah and Lynesse's relationship and parallel their relationship with Dany and Jorah's current one. It is there to service Dany's storyline, motivations and relationships - with that backstory, she realizes at that point that, while Jorah loves her, she can't love him back. This makes her feel guilty, so much so that she thinks she has to compensate by bringing him back home. This is also an instance that displays how deeply ingrained patriarchal views are on this universe - because Dany is a woman, she thinks she owes her knight something in return for his protection. The roles of liege and object of desire intersect in a way that wouldn't happen to a king.

But why am I saying all of this? My point is that connections between past and present in ASOIAF matter only to the extent that they say something about our POV characters. The Arianne/Rhaenyra and Arianne/Nymeria comparisons matter only to the extent that they inform Arianne's motivations and storyline, as well as the Jon Snow/Blackfyres one, which informs Catelyn's views on Jon. By contrast, the show brought up the siege in Pyke only so that we would empathize with show!Jorah again, but that was never the main purpose in the books, in which the backstory primarily serviced Dany's character. But then, the show writers are intent on erasing how creepy and disrespectful Jorah's treatment of Dany in the books is.

Also, the only new detail that they added was that Jorah wanted to urinate while Robert was knighting him. Was that really necessary?

BARRISTAN: Robert would have laughed. He was a good man, a great warrior. And a terrible king. I burned away my years fighting for terrible kings.

In the books, Barristan has more conflicted feelings about Robert Baratheon than he ever lets on in the show:

“Some truths are hard to hear. Robert was a ... a good knight ... chivalrous,
brave ... he spared my life, and the lives of many others ...[”] (ASOS Daenerys VI)

~

I came to bring Daenerys home. Yet he had lost her, just as he had lost her father and her brother. Even Robert. I failed him too. (ADWD The Queensguard)

~

And what did Robert say when he saw them? Did he smile? Barristan Selmy had been badly wounded on the Trident, so he had been spared the sight of Lord Tywin's gift, but oft he wondered. If I had seen him smile over the red ruins of Rhaegar's children, no army on this earth could have stopped me from killing him. (ADWD The Kingsguard)

Barristan may admit Robert's value as a knight (highly questionable as it is), praise him for showing mercy to the Targaryen loyalists and be ashamed for "failing" him. At the same time, Barristan still feels anger for the deaths of Rhaegar's children, so much so that he can't stop himself from thinking he would avenge them if he had seen Robert smiling at the sight of their corpses. Also, when he thinks about the people he failed, he thinks that he failed "even Robert", which shows that he had considerably less regard for him than he did either Dany or Rhaegar.

I don't think Barristan would ever call Robert a "good man", and I think his feelings for Robert are particularly important because they inform Barristan's siding with Ned when he asks Robert not to kill Dany, as well as why he chose to follow Viserys (Rhaegar's heir) instead of Stannis (Robert's heir) and why he demands that the Shavepate does not kill Dany's hostages if he is to side with him.

Also, again, Barristan would never share his personal feelings (much less negative ones) about anyone with Jorah.

The infuriating part, though, is this one:

JORAH: You swore an oath.

BARRISTAN: Yes. And a man of honor keeps his vows, even if he's serving a drunk or a lunatic. Just once in my life before it's over, I want to know what it's like to serve with pride, to fight for someone I believe in. Do you believe in her?

JORAH: With all my heart.

First, they portray show!Jorah as a reliable source as to whether we should trust show!Dany or not. While one might argue that these are two different characters, not only the erasure of Jorah's negative behaviors for the sake of an unrequited love story is still disgusting, but Jorah was never a reliable source about Dany in the books.

Second, Barristan's arc is partly about finding out on his own that Dany is a worthy liege after spending years following bad kings:

“...The truth is, I wanted to watch you for a time before pledging you my sword. To make certain that you were not ...”

“... my father’s daughter?” If she was not her father’s daughter, who was she?

“... mad,” he finished. “But I see no taint in you.”
 (ASOS Daenerys VI)

~

“So I am a coin in the hands of some god, is that what you are saying, ser?”

“No,” Ser Barristan replied. “You are the trueborn heir of Westeros. To the end of my days I shall remain your faithful knight, should you find me worthy to bear a sword again. If not, I am content to serve Strong Belwas as his squire.”  (ASOS Daenerys VI)

~

“I flung my sword at Joffrey’s feet and have not touched one since. Only from the hand of my queen will I accept a sword again.”

“As you wish.” Dany took the sword from Brown Ben and offered it hilt first. The old man took it reverently. “Now kneel,” she told him, “and swear it to my service.”

He went to one knee and lay the blade before her as he said the words.  (ASOS Daenerys VI)

~

“Freedom to starve?” asked Dany sharply. “Freedom to die? Am I a dragon, or a harpy?” Am I mad? Do I have the taint?

“A dragon,” Ser Barristan said with certainty. (ASOS Daenerys VI)

Having show!Barristan ask show!Jorah's opinion on show!Dany diminishes the impact of the passages above, which display his own judgment based on the time he spent on Dany's side.

Having show!Barristan ask show!Jorah's opinion on show!Dany undercuts Barristan's arc. The show writers might have show!Barristan say that he wants to "fight for someone [he] believe[s] in", but that's just lip service; these words ring hollow because we don't see him finding out for himself.

Could the show writers have added an original scene that gives the characters around show!Dany more to do? Of course (though I've argued before that even the scenes focusing on show!Dany are often seen from the viewpoint of her advisors and prevent us from fully experiencing the journey with show!Dany herself). But they should have thought about whether it fits into their characterizations in the books and, if it doesn't, why is that change necessary? What does having show!Barristan not find out on his own that show!Dany is a liege worth following cause besides undermining both Dany's and Barristan's characters? What does having show!Jorah not be a creepy and be a reliable source about show!Dany cause besides making a slaver look better?

*

Show!Grey Worm's first scene has its strengths. I like how it displays show!Dany's genuine empathy for the Unsullied, as well as show!Grey Worm's admiration for her. The actors gave good performances. There is one departure from the books (that I don't really understand the purpose of; they probably forgot about it), though:

DAENERYS: What is your name?

GREY WORM: Grey Worm.

DAENERYS: Grey Worm...

MISSANDEI: All Unsullied boys are given new names when they are cut ... Grey Worm, Red Flea, Black Rat. Names that remind them what they are ... vermin.

The books go even further on the slavers' dehumanization of the Unsullied:

“This one’s name is Red Flea, your worship.”


The girl repeated their exchange in the Common Tongue.


“And yesterday, what was it?”


“Black Rat, your worship.”


“The day before?”


“Brown Flea, your worship.”


“Before that?”


“This one does not recall, your worship. Blue Toad, perhaps. Or Blue Worm.”

“Tell her all their names are such,” Kraznys commanded the girl. “It reminds them that by themselves they are vermin. The name disks are thrown in an empty cask at duty’s end, and each dawn plucked up again at random.”

“More madness,” said Arstan, when he heard. “How can any man possibly remember a new name every day?”

“Those who cannot are culled in training, along with those who cannot run all day in full pack, scale a mountain in the black of night, walk across a bed of coals, or slay an infant.” (ASOS Daenerys II)

Not only their names remind them that they are vermin, they are also changed every day so that they lose their sense of individuality. 

Even with this change, I'd say that the scene still conveys how unacceptable and cruel the slavers' treatment was.

There are other changes that I find more concerning. The first is the most inconsequential: why is show!Missandei calling show!Dany khaleesi instead of Your Grace? Only Jorah and her khalasar call her by that title in the books. I suppose this is a Doylist issue since s3!Dany was more recognized as "khaleesi" than "Daenerys" by the audience, but it still goes against their characterizations.

The second is that, as I said in my 3.4 review, this scene would have made more sense in Astapor:

One of the first things Dany had done after the fall of Astapor was abolish the custom of giving the Unsullied new slave names every day. Most of those born free had returned to their birth names; those who still remembered them, at least. Others had called themselves after heroes or gods, and sometimes weapons, gems, and even flowers, which resulted in soldiers with some very peculiar names, to Dany’s ears. Grey Worm had remained Grey Worm. When she asked him why, he said, “It is a lucky name. The name this one was born to was accursed. That was the name he had when he was taken for a slave. But Grey Worm is the name this one drew the day Daenerys Stormborn set him free.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

Dany still had to choose which freedmen would occupy the ruling council, so I assume she stayed in Astapor for a few days. With that in mind, if abolishing the custom of new slave names was one of the first things Dany did after the fall of Astapor, it's much more likely that she did it there rather than on the march to Yunkai. Why couldn't they have written this scene there? Because seeing her leave Astapor makes for a more visually impressive scene, I guess. As I said before, though, it gives weight to the superficial reading that show!Dany only went to the city, took its military force and left (even if we'll later find out that she also installed a ruling council there in 4.5). Being faithful to the books would've prevented any misconception of this sort from happening.

My third and final issue is that this scene is meant to be of secondary importance in the books. As one can see in ASOS Daenerys IV, it only appears as a brief flashback in the context of a scene in which Dany is seen giving Grey Worm military orders. That's because the focus of the chapter is on Dany's character development as a leader and a military tactician (similar to how ASOS Daenerys VI only shows the conquest of Meereen as a brief flashback in the context of Jorah telling Dany that her "sewer rats" won her the city; that's because the focus of the chapter is less on the adrenaline and victory and more on the aftermath of the sack and its negative consequences, intertwined with Dany's personal problems).

One might argue that we could have had both this scene and show!Dany's character development in the next episodes. However, as I will explain in future reviews, the show writers don't care about show!Dany's character development at all, which is why it becomes enough of an issue for me to bring it up.

*

JORAH: King Robert wanted her dead.

BARRISTAN: Of course he wanted her dead. She's a Targaryen. The last Targaryen.

JORAH: I suppose no one on the small council could speak sense to him.

In this interview with Bryan Cogman, Elio Garcia interprets show!Jorah's actions as if he were "fishing for information about just what Barristan knew about him and his dealings with Varys". That's not an unreasonable guess, but it's another one that does a disservice to Barristan's character. In the books, Barristan only hid information from Dany about Jorah because revealing Jorah's betrayal would mean revealing his identity. If his identity had been already revealed, he would have told her much earlier - that's what happens right after she finds out that he's Barristan Selmy, after all:

“...And since the day you wed Khal Drogo, there has been an informer by your side selling your secrets, trading whispers to the Spider for gold and promises.” (ASOS Daenerys V)

However, because the show writers probably know this, they made another change just as detrimental to Barristan's character:

BARRISTAN: I didn't sit on the small council.

JORAH: No? Doesn't the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard traditionally ...

BARRISTAN: Traditionally, yes, but I killed a dozen of Robert's friends during his rebellion. He didn't want advice on how to govern from a man who had fought for the Mad King. Can't say I minded much. I always hated the politics.

I'm not saying that the Barristan of the books loves the politics or that he's one of the best political players of the books. Far from that. Still, his character development culminates in these realizations:

The gods of Westeros were far away, yet Ser Barristan Selmy paused for a moment to say a silent prayer, asking the Crone to light his way to wisdom. For the children, he told himself. For the city. For my queen. (ADWD The Queensguard)

~

His queen was the Mother of Dragons; he would not allow her children to come to harm. (ADWD The Kingbreaker)

~

"You would break King Hizdahr's peace, old man?"

"I would shatter it." Once, long ago, a prince had named him Barristan the Bold. A part of that boy was in him still. (ADWD The Queen's Hand)

Before Dany, Barristan remained silent as he watched Aerys and Robert committing atrocities and abusing their power. After Dany, he's not only revolting against a bad king (Hizdahr), he's also taking on her anti-slavery cause and declaring war against the slavers. That's character development. Siding with Ned against Dany's death was Barristan’s first (albeit small) act of rebellion and the beginning of an arc that will later lead him to fight against slavery because of the very girl whose murder he opposed.

On HBO, not only we'll never see show!Barristan doing any of this (because he'll be killed off earlier), we are seeing him dismiss the importance of political action, which is the very opposite of the ultimate realization of his book counterpart's arc. And what's worse is that all of these changes are being made for the sake of show!Jorah's character.

*

JORAH: Yeah, I imagine I would, too. Hours spent jabbering about backstabbings and betrayals the world over.

I don't know if show!Jorah reducing politics to "jabbering about backstabbings and betrayals the world over" is necessarily proof that this is what the show writers think. That being said, that dismissal can be considered foreshadowing of how little they will care about adapting Dany's ADWD storyline properly. It can also be interpreted as proof of how they tend to oversimplify the characters according to their basic archetypes. If Jorah and Barristan are warriors, of course they don't care about politics and are friendly with each other (all men are friendly with each other and all women are catty with each other, right? See also: Tyrion/Davos, Jon/Gendry, Sansa/Arya, Dany/Sansa, etc).

BARRISTAN: Mm-hmm. Still, she'll have to wade through that muck if she wants to rule the Seven Kingdoms. She'll have good men around her to advise her, men with experience.

JORAH: Which men do you have in mind?

BARRISTAN: Forgive me, Ser Jorah, for what I'm about to say, but your reputation in Westeros has suffered over the years.

JORAH: It suffered for a reason. I sold men into slavery.

BARRISTAN: I don't know if your presence by her side will help our cause when we go home.

JORAH: Our cause? Forgive me, Ser Barristan, but I was busy defending the khaleesi against King Robert's assassins while you were still bowing to the man.

BARRISTAN: We both want her to rule. Am I wrong?

JORAH: You only joined us a few days ago. I can't speak to your intentions.

BARRISTAN: If we're truly her loyal servants, we will do whatever needs to be done, no matter the cost, no matter our pride.

JORAH: You're not Lord Commander here. You're just another exile. And I take my orders from the queen.

First, I don’t know why the heck would show!Barristan tell show!Jorah rather than show!Dany that Jorah’s presence might not help her cause. Not only it makes him dumb (because show!Jorah obviously wouldn't take that well), it also makes it seem that he likes show!Jorah enough to advise him to leave, which is not true at all in the books, as I've already showed above.

Second, I hate that this exchange makes it seem that show!Jorah feels guilty for selling men into slavery (he doesn't in the books). He was still trying to normalize slavery in 3.1 and 3.3!

*

I know that fandom tends to praise Bryan Cogman for trying to correct plot holes and for paying attention to the books' events and the show's continuity. That knowledge doesn't mean he necessarily understands the characters well - he certainly does not understand Dany well, and this comment is proof of his ignorance:

“Yeah, it’s probably refreshing for Iain Glen! How many times can he explain something about Essos culture to Dany?  ;)”

If he really understood Dany, he would also say that we don't just see Jorah giving Dany knowledge. We also see her retain that knowledge and apply it later, we also see that she has knowledge of her own (because, let's not forget, she has lived in Essos for almost her whole life, certainly for a longer period than Jorah) and we also see her making decisions of her own volition. The misconception that Dany is ignorant and too reliant on the men around her is dismissive of her character, but it unfortunately informs the show's writing of her, for they erase many moments showcasing her intelligence and competence.

He also says that "the Dany stuff is a challenge" because of the lack of material, which is a flimsy excuse - many key scenes of her chapters were cut (see here), even if she doesn't have a lot of chapters in ASOS. Lack of material to adapt was never an issue for anyone in any storyline. The show writers should have been overwhelmed with the amount of material they had and the necessity to select them properly (which they failed to do because they mostly looked at the scenes as plot points).

I'm nitpicking his comments, admittedly, because he also said that (show!)Dany's story is "the rise of a villain". He really doesn't know anything about her.

*

For this review, there's no comment of mine on any Inside the Episode because D&D's Inside the Episode 3.5 doesn't talk about show!Dany's storyline. I'm not commenting on show!Dany's clothes either because she's wearing the same clothes from episode 3.4 and I've talked about them here.