#apologies for the lack of posts but soon...

[dionysiaproductions]

Today at Pemberley, The 19th of June:

Colonel Fitzwilliam departed early in the morning, traveling post to London. He told The Darcys that they must soon visit town for recreation and not business. 

Mr. Darcy expressed his disinclination, “I should sooner go to Rosing’s Park for recreation.”

“Come now,” Col. Fitzwilliam entreated him. “At the least, a young person like Georgiana shouldn’t spend all her summer bored in the country.”

Before her brother could answer, Miss Darcy said, “If there is one thing we are not, it is bored and wanting for entertainment.” 

Col. Fitzwilliam laughed, conceding, “That is true enough.”

Miss Georgiana joined Mr. Darcy in overseeing how Col. Fitzwilliam’s trunk was fastened to the carriage. 

Left alone with Mrs. Elizabeth Darcy, Col. Fitzwilliam commented, “She is becoming a woman who knows her own mind.”

“Is that a compliment or a caution?” Mrs. Darcy asked.

The Colonel was surprised by her question. “A compliment, of course. I am exceedingly proud to call myself her guardian.”

“I think, Georgiana always knew her own mind,” Mrs. Darcy said. “All she lacked was the confidence and practice to speak it. The world is not always kind to women who do.”

After a pause, Col. Fitzwilliam offered a rueful, “I believe that I owe you an apology. You are an excellent wife to my cousin and sister to Georgiana. This last fortnight I have allowed my own opinions and conceit to make my behavior unworthy of you. I hope that you never doubt that I am also exceedingly proud to call myself your cousin.”

Previous days at Pemberley here

[acid-ixx]

i don't even get why she was so salty over "woke" propaganda when the fandom she literally writes for is inherently woke from the start 😭 you can never deny how superman is an illegal alien immigrant who is titled champion of the oppressed, who fights not just for america but for human rights as a whole, then there's also batman, wonder woman, literally green arrow, every superhero you idolize are woke as hell, let's not forget how writers planned to make conner kent a trans woman? 🤨—

then you gotta tell me she came to a conclusion to form bigoted opinions, and THEN tell others not to dabble into her own country's politics when she spews shit about the damn issues happening in america (fuck ICE, fuck the government, and most especially you tr*mp 🤮)??? also, as far as a stretch as this sounds, the tim drake hate feels very much targeted, cause ik she mentioned how the writers "ruined" his character by making him bi and ruining his romance with steph, when the latter has already broken up with him long ago (homophobia much??? for someone who claims she actually doesn't care about his character, why so salty then? and why complain about him being bi when that was also announced YEARS ago)

and also, her one pinning a long message saying the blog is supposed to be free from politics or whatsoever, but damn what a hypocrite, especially when she calls everyone who rebuts the r slur? i have had so much gripes on her from the start damn 😭

just saying, if you're a writer with a big following, like me with a big platform, that doesn't mean you automatically have the power to talk about your dogshit, uneducated opinions and expect to NOT get attacked or called out for it, ESPECIALLY if it's targeted to minorities, and especially if you know you can't defend yourself and end up deleting your blog cause you know you're in the wrong LMAO

(yes, this is about luv-lock. i once vaguely mentioned her in my account, idc if i get attacked for this, i'm just pointing out my own observations)

[sketchydodles]

GAH! DOUBLE STARS MY LOVELIES ☀️⭐️

[rinisdrawing]

workin’ on stuff… ✍️

[clovenhoofedjester]

a happy tumble

[wayfinderships]

Wait hold on guys! I think I know what would fix me! A millionth replay of the Entire K.ingdom H.earts series-

[bluerasbunny]

this is a really quick doodle but!!

thank you for all the love on tick and tock, it means a lot!! <3

[witch-sweets]

Big W.I.P dump cuz I haven't been very active

sooo a while ago I wrote a fic based on some cool art I saw of Hat Kid using the Dwellers Mask on Snatcher and seeing The Prince I was planning on making chapter 2 be a hurt/comfort fic but i kinda forgot about it- (will continue writing when I want to)

An angsty fic for my friend @how-to-humaning-401's au where MJ discovers what his dearest brother has been doing to intruders for the past 1000's of years (will continue writing when I'm thinking about MJ angst)

BIG angsty as hell multi-chapter Snatcher origin story fic (will continue writing randomly)

Funne fic concept about Snatcher and The Shapeshifter

HEAVY W.I.P. ahit Magical Girl AU

??? @haunted-scrapyard

And uhhhhhh ye I swear I have a ton of cool stuff planned I'm just a bit tired rn and school is hard soooooo

Please be patient I will do more art soon-

[warpfactor9]

xo

[mmx-code-crimpphire]

I apologize if my activity’s been spotty lately besides streams and reblogging to the xzero-mm-corner blog.

I’ve been wanting to make more drawings and write more fics, but a LOT has been going on this year, nothing too bad, it’s just a lot to process. Especially these past two days have had us worn out and sleeping all day.

Hopefully we’ll get back to it when we’re not as busy or feeling like shit. Cross those fingers.

[davejade-sometimes]

sup

weve returned

we come bearing gifts in the form of a davejade au of the fluffy coffee shop variety 

in which dave is a cringefail loser and jade is the cute barista he goes to see every day

jade is an astrophysics major who works part time at sburban coffee

dave is an aspiring photojournalist who interns for the local paper

meetcute?

nah

meetfail

(throws davejade content at you)

[junii-moony]

[bob-mod-the-band-au-ask-blog]

do u peeps have any fanboys or fangirls yet?

" Trust me, you don't wanna know how it is. "

[thelonestrider]

Excuse me as I rant

Can we please talk about the attention seeking people are doing lately? It's starting to get a little annoying. Just because you're playing something new, or doing a new hobby, ect. doesn't give you the right to say "Oh Nooo~! Since i'm not on such&such, all my attention is going to go away! I'll be forgotten in the fandom!" Y'all, if you have proper friends that support you, your pieces of art will still get love and attention. What won't get positive attention is being an attention seeking whiny ass. Getting notes and reblogs on a website on the internet should be the least of your worries. Get your priorities straightened out. Thankyou for listening to my ted talk. Enjoy a penguin slap.

[lenteur]

random thoughts about strong girl nam soon, episode four

(read more because i always get carried away lol and this post might contain spoilers)

watching two episodes in a row. what happened to mal who couldn't get the motivation to watch even one episode for months?

Interesting how the mother pretends nam soon is six. She wants to pretend she never lost her and it's only the continuation of her childhood.

The chief of the diu team tasting the drug, even though he knew what effect it had on people. This makes no sense at all. He has experience in such cases and yet he still put it in his mouth. And what is that excuse? It's such a weak excuse. I think the writers wanted to k*ll him from the get go but didn't know how. This is weird.

The reunion with all her family members... we all shed some tears. She only remembers her dad because he was the last person she saw before being lost in mongolia.

Even super humans are humans. The mother feeling guilty for not protecting her daughter and feeling useless.

The bond she has with her mongolian parents is so strong. She still thinks about them and lets them know how she's doing.

I wonder if there will be a nam soon / hwang ja confrontation. I'd love that because the former thinks with her heart and emotions and the latter is manipulative and thinks with her brain to obtain what she desires. They're polar opposites.

The grandmother is so iconic. The way she makes me laugh every time. She's so funny. Her little song while dislocating the cow and breaking its bones by her bare hands is a feat of strength. And everyone is amazed, including me.

The ceo of doogo has an ambiguous aura to me because on one hand he seems haughty and looks like he has disdain for everyone other than him. But on the other hand, he doesn't have the charisma of a villain. He kind of looks almost transparent to me. Maybe because we haven't seen a lot of him in these four episodes?

honestly i've tried to understand what doogo's "official" activity was and i lack sleep so i'm not sure but they're kind of like a korean amaz*n? if i'm not mistaken (don't take my word for it though)

As expected the effect of the drugs are seen on the chief of the diu team. I really can't believe he went and put some of the drug in his mouth. Nonsense!

the bells ringing when nam soon said she'll protect hee sik. It's the little details that make this love story so cute

i think we all wanted to be nam soon at one moment in our lives. It feels so good to see her tell everyone what she thinks without hiding under excuses or anything like that.

It's the look of pure awe when kang hee sik sees nam soon's new look for me &lt;3

The way she wants to be where hee sik is because he will make her a better person <3 he's the only person that has been there for her ever since she landed in korea. he also proved her that he is a good person

i just can't with the grandma. She's just so funny! every time i see her i want to laugh. Wait that came out wrong. She's just so fun and i really enjoy every single moment she's had so far in the show

let's go love story between grandma and barista!!!

so far, nam soon is the worst undercover employee of all time.

i think hee sik has a role towards nam soon that he doesn't seem to be ready to handle. Seeing as nam soon is very oblivious to a lot of things, hee sik should have talked to her in more detail about the undercover mission. Because, at this rate, she'll get outed in no time.

what a relief that nam soon could get revenge on the airdnd scammer, even if she didn't get her money back

preview of the next episode seems really promising. Nam soon will confront both hwa ja and doogo's ceo.

A good episode

i'll give this one a 8/10

[cobbled-peach]

proposal(s)

aka: the four times Spencer thinks about proposing to you, and the one time he does

a/n: this is my first time writing/posting here pls be kind to me I just love him and I love books and I hope you love him and love books too !!!!! this hasn’t been edited much so apologies for sp mistakes cw: brief mention of sex, but nothing explicit. Fembau!reader. Lots of literature references (with books named at the end). I think this constitutes as fluff? Pre-prison Spencer, but no specific era. wc: 2.3k

darcy and elizabeth

The first time Spencer thinks about proposing to you, it’s the day you meet him.

The newest agent on the team. You’re emotionally intelligent in a way he can only dream of being.

You cradle a mug of coffee in your hands. His mug, which stuns Morgan into silence mid-sentence, his conversation with Garcia derailed by the sheer surprise of what he’s witnessing. Your mug had smashed thirty minutes earlier, an unfortunate casualty in the first-day desk unboxing. Spencer, seeing your disappointment, pulled a plain white mug from his top drawer, REID printed on the side.

He held it out tentatively. A peace offering. ‘Until you get a new one,’ he’d murmured, offering a small smile.

He’s always been wary of germs, but somehow didn’t care this time.

He watches your hands wrap around the mug. Soft, delicate, holding the item like its something precious. He wonders what it would be like to hold your hands himself. Then scolds the thought. Coworkers, Spencer.

You bring the cup up to your lips, humming in contentment after the first sip. Yor lipstick – or maybe lipgloss? He’s unsure of the correct term – leaves a gentle pink stain on the rim. He secretly hopes that it won’t wash off. He stares for a moment, and wonders, quite randomly, is this how Darcy felt when Elizabeth first touched his hand?

You set the mug down (Morgan still gaping in the background, like you’ve declared war on the Bureau’s hierarchy of personal property) and smile at him.

‘Thank you. Seriously. I desperately needed that caffeine.’

‘It’s not a problem. Did you know that caffeine sensitivity is actually inherited?’ A pause. To see if you’re listening. You are, and he suddenly wonders how appropriate it would be to stain his lips with your lipstick-lipgloss in a kiss. Not very, he concludes. ‘It’s all to do with polymorphisms in your enzymes. Its genetic; they tested it on twins.’

‘You sound well-versed in your coffee knowledge. A fellow connoisseur?’

‘I think the term “addict” is more fitting, actually. And I don’t know how much of my consumption is due to genetics over stress and lack of sleep.’

A laugh from you. He feels the sound in his chest and his stomach flips.

‘Good to know what’s in store for me,’ you tease.

‘Coffee addictions and sleepless nights,’ he replies. Then, hesitating. ‘Maybe I’ll let you use my high-quality espresso beans when it gets really bad.’

‘Literally marry me,’ you joke.

He almost says, I will.

He doesn’t, just stares at the mug like it holds the future.

2. the black cloud

The second time he thinks about proposing is your third-technically fourth date. (The first didn’t count, at least not to you. ‘You asked me to dinner to “celebrate closing the case,”’ you’d later said. ‘That’s not a date.’ He insisted that it was; he’d paid. You said so did JJ, once. Case closed.) They’re also technically not “dates” because dating within the team is prohibited, but Hotch showed some leniency.

Coffee in the park. A foolproof plan, not much room for error. He buys your drink, and you sip it beside him on the bench while he spews obscure facts about the tree you’re sitting under, intertwined with quotes from Ovid and Darwin. He offers to get you a refill as soon as you finish.

‘You haven’t even finished yours yet,’ you tell him.

‘I know. I can still get you a new one.’

‘Just drink your drink, Spencer.’ Accompanied by a fond smile.

You wander together. Conversation flows. He can’t quite explain why its so easy, why he feels so comfortable.

He’s puzzled by the anomaly, so he does what he does best: theorises. He’s been hypothesising for the past three-technically-four dates. Cross-referencing data points. He runs through the evidence, and draws the only viable conclusion:

Love.

Premature, maybe. But true.

You suggest dipping into a second-hand bookshop. He agrees eagerly, following you in like Orpheus descending. He’ll go anywhere, so long as he can find his way back to you. You disappear into your aisle; he into his. Mathematics, physics. The realm of science and fact. Only two minutes pass before you appear again, book clutched in your hand.

‘This is so you,’ you say.

It’s The Black Cloud. Fred Hoyle.

He blinks. Then again. Takes the book from your hand and turning it over like you’ve just handed him the world.

‘You’ve probably read it,’ you say. ‘But you’ve never mentioned it, and I know you like mid-century sci-fi.’

He has read it. Of course he has. But its not about the book. Its about you, thinking of him.

And you say it so casually. Like this isn’t the most intimate thing someone’s done for him.

‘You picked this out… for me?’

‘Yes.’

He turns it over again, shocked. He wants to hand you his heart, neatly wrapped in paper and ink.

‘Oh…’ he breathes out, the sound so quiet. He feels like he’s been winded, in the best way possible.

‘Not to your taste?’

‘No–’ he shakes his head. ‘No, its exactly to my taste. I think I have an older copy, but not this edition.’

‘Do you want it?’

‘Yes.’ The answer comes out before he even registers it. He does want the book. Not because he needs it, but because you picked it out for him.

You smile, gently take it back, and go to the register. He watches lamely, feels compelled to place a hand over his chest an steady his beating heart.

He thinks of Dante first catching sight of Beatrice. Of Gatsby staring across the bay. Of Gabriel and Bathsheba, paths destined to intertwine.

In the middle of the bookshop, he almost gets on one knee.

3. the hour of the star

The third time he thinks about proposing is directly after sex.

Not the first time, or the second. Somewhere in the quiet middle.

You’ve been officially together for six months. You transferred to a different department, and he asked the moment you were in your new office. (‘No interdepartmental fraternization,’ he’d quoted, followed by a nervous, ‘so, can you officially be my girlfriend now?’)

You’re both tangled beneath the sheets in your apartment, the place half his by default now. His toothbrush lives in the bathroom, his go-bag in the hallway, his own mug in your kitchen.

His copy of The Black Cloud lives on your bookshelf, annotated. He took it straight home, writing his thoughts in the margins, little notes to you. Fred Hoyle writes “There is a coherent plan to the universe” and beneath it, in Spencer’s barely legible font, is yes, and I think its you.

The book had been kept out of your sight for seven months, before he “sneakily” slipped it onto your shelf. “Sneakily,” because you watched every movement through the kitchen doorway. You’d read the whole thing that night, cried, and set to work annotating a book of your own for him.

The books are a love language themselves. If he could frame every annotated page on his wall, he would.

He’s reading aloud to you now.

It’s become a ritual. You, soft limbs and warm skin. Him, thumbing through whatever book is on the nightstand, voice a little hoarse. Sometimes it’s a play, sometimes poetry. Once, quantum physics (he didn’t take it personally when you instantly fell asleep to that).

Tonight, its Clarice Lispector. The Hour of the Star. Skin still flushed, he clears his throat and reads aloud, backed by your steady breaths. Each turn of a page is a pause in which he can press a kiss to your skin. Shoulder, cheek, temple. Wherever he can reach.

‘“Things were somehow so good that they were in danger of becoming very bad, because what is fully mature is very close to rotting.’” The sentence hangs in the air. Heavy. His voice stops, like he’s contemplating the words he’s just read.

You turn your head against his chest.

‘Everything okay?’

His quiet. Thinking, as always, a crease between his brows.

‘Mm.’ His arm shifts to wrap around your shoulders. ‘It’s just… interesting, isn’t it? How even the best things are fragile, maybe. Decaying.’

He doesn’t need to say “us” for you to catch what he’s referring to.

‘You think we’ll decay?’ you ask, propping yourself up on one elbow. He looks at your eyes, soft, unworried, and thinks again.

‘I think that… real things are vulnerable. We’re real. And I think that makes us susceptible.’ He hesitates, brushes some hair from your face absentmindedly. ‘Entropy. Everything tends towards disorder.’

‘Only if you don’t control it,’ you say. Factually incorrect, but he appreciates what you're saying.

And perhaps that’s it. Your unwavering faith. You’re a realist, not a romantic. Offering certainty in a world of disorder.

‘Decay isn’t death,’ you point out, continuing. ‘Its transformation, right? Compost to soil. Stars collapsing and becoming galaxies. Things can break and become something beautiful.’

His world shifts in that moment. He looks back at the line, reads it maybe 20 times in the span of five seconds.

‘We’re not going to rot, Spence.’

‘We’re not going to rot,’ he repeats. He knows it’s the truth as you press your lips to his chest, over his frantically beating heart. ‘Do you want me to keep going?’ he asks, lifting the book slightly.

‘Please.’

You adjust your position, curling into his side. He resumes his reading. He’s turning the page again when you mumble quietly.

‘We’re not going to rot, because I love you.’

Every syllable brands itself into his soul. He’s heard those three words before, but there’s something more to them in his context. He almost drops the book, catches I before it hits your head. He wants to tell you that you are his Eurydice, the person he’s always been trying to reach.

Instead, he says:

‘I love you, too.’

It falls easily. Inevitable, as always. No drama, no prelude. Just the truth, spoken to you many times before and many more to come.

He almost attaches a “marry me” to his words but instead kisses your hair and returns to the book. He’ll wait.

He already knows the ending will be worth it.

4. metamorphoses

The fourth time isn’t once. It’s every day.

You hand him coffee in the morning? Marry me.

You nurse him through a cold, unconcerned about coughing and sneezing, just wanting to be near to him? Here’s a ring fashioned out of Kleenex.

You coo over Henry in one of JJ’s photos? Let’s make one of our own. Just marry me first.

He asks Rossi for advice. (‘You’ve been married a lot, statistically speaking.’)

Garcia catches on quickly. Spencer Reid combined with search history is a concoction for whatever the opposite of “stealth” is. He looks at rings on his lunch break, tilting his computer screen like its classified information.

Pretty soon everyone knows. You remain oblivious – or pretend to be.

It’s simply a matter of when.

5. darcy and elizabeth

It’s a Tuesday. Raining.

Not a dramatic kind of rain. Unassuming. Soft and relentless, quietly soaking the world, a constant tap against the window of his apartment – now permanently shared with you.

He wonders if the rain is a piece of pathetic fallacy. A warning against his plans.

It’s four years to the day since he met you.

He had a plan. Of course he did. He was Spencer Reid. A riverside walk in the park. Take a picnic, surrounded by ducks. Bookmark a page in Much Ado About Nothing with the ring. But the weather has altered his plans, made him go off script.

But maybe that’s a good thing. Gentle touches and heartfelt gestures over big declarations, that’s what he’s always preferred. He just needs a moment.

You’re making coffee. Barefoot, hair damp from the rain that interrupted his plans. Wearing an old shirt of his effortlessly. A perfect picture of home. His home.

He stands in the doorway with a book in his hand. Pride and Prejudice. Not his favourite. Nowhere near his top ten. But it’s your favourite. You’ve worn it down with love, left your own story between the lines with annotations. And that makes it his favourite now, too.

His mismatched socks shift awkwardly on the floor.

‘Hi,’ he says, calling your attention.

You look up from the mugs with a pre-formed smile. Yours, a copy of the mug you’d smashed on your first day. His, the mug with your lipstick, now washed, but imprinted with you forever.

‘Hey,’ you respond. ‘Dry from the rain?’

He doesn’t respond. Crosses the kitchen and holds out the book. Why does it feel like a brick?

‘This is… mine?’ you say, unsure.

‘Yes,’ he confirms. ‘I added some annotations. For you.’

You open the cover. His handwriting – messy, familiar – sits below your own in black ink.

You know I am not very good with words. So, I thought I’d borrow someone else’s. Please turn to page 301.

He watches your breath hitch. Watches as you carefully flip the pages.

There’s a line. Circled not once, but many times over, holding the weight of what couldn’t be said with words.

“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.”

Beside it, tentative but certain at the same time, his writing: but if you ever choose to be bound to someone, I hope it’s me.

He’s already on one knee when you glance up. Ring held out in his hand. A quiet promise, forged from the pages of books you’ve shared and the one you’ve written yourself.

Your hands are cradling his face. He’s crying. And you’re crying.

‘I will always choose you.’ Quiet, definitive. A fact.

He slips the ring on and kisses you. Pride and Prejudice lays open in the background. Page 301. A circled sentence. A note in the margins. A love undoubted.

hi I’m super awkward but I hope you enjoyed yippee!! I thought I’d quickly mention all the books I referenced/have implied references to because I love them all and if you like literature you should read them teehee (in order because I’m super sweet) (also I know darcy doesn’t touch her hand in the books pls don’t come for me <33) Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen Metamorphosis, Ovid The Origin of Species, Charles Darwin The Black Cloud, Fred Hoyle The Divine Comedy, Dante The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald Far from the Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy The Hour of the Star, Clarice Lispector Much Ado About Nothing, Shakespeare Hamlet, Shakespeare