who texts/rings to check how their day is going: Neither. They text each other pictures of ugly outfits they see or weird looking birds.
who’s the most creative when it comes to gifts: Probably Peggy, because her art style is a bit more ~art~, and so she’s more likely to give John a picture of like all the Banksy murals being put in a woodchipper or something. John did a portrait of her dog and feels incredibly inadequate.
who gets up first in the morning: Peggy, though on a weekend that’s like 10 am vs. 11 am.
who cries at movies: Sober, Peggy; drunk, John; sports movie, very John.
who gives unprompted massages: Like, maybe if one of them pulled something while doing a dumb Parkour stunt. Otherwise neither.
who fusses over the other when they’re sick: Uh. Neither necessarily fusses, but Peggy would probably think to check up on him first.
who has the most embarrassing taste in music: They both love the same emo bands but John also likes bro country so him I think.
who collects something unusual: As per @broromini, they share joint custody of a snapback collection.
who takes the longest to get ready: John. Definitely John.
who is the most tidy and organised: Probably also John? Like again it’s not a very high bar but Peggy’s an absolute slob so he kind of wins by default.
who gets most excited about the holidays: Peggy, probably– her family is much closer and has a lot of traditions with happy memories, and she doesn’t have nearly as much tension and skeletons with them as John does.
who gets most competitive when playing games and/or sports: John and it annoys the hell out of Peggy.
who starts the most arguments: Peggy, because John usually won’t explicitly bring up when something’s bothering him, which also annoys the hell out of Peggy.
what tv shows they watch together: A lot of the Mike Schur sitcoms, MST3k.
who is the best cook: John, probably, especially if you consider super buttery Southern food good.
This is a very strange question. For one, it completely skips over MG or children’s in general. For another, I feel like it leans into the annoying misstep where people act like YA is a genre and not an age categorization?
But, putting my pedantic assholery aside, I’ll answer it like this: I like good, character driven stories that are low on misery and (frequently but not always) creepy. I like them to be diverse and at least feature, if not star, queer characters. Which means I read a lot of YA and MG, because it’s honestly just easier to find those types of stories written for MG and YA audiences.
Classic or modern? Why?
Modern, all the way. There are some classics I like, and obviously some stories are timeless, but a lot of the olden times writing style just doesn’t jive with my reading style. I was really self-conscious about that as a teen and twenty-something, when a lot of my friends would pull out the, “Well I’ve been reading Jane Austen since I was six, fully comprehending every word, and appreciating it as literature!” sort of dealio. I, a person who did not learn to read until first grade, when reading was taught in school, and who never warmed up to the classics, felt very stupid in those moments. And, to be honest, I still get prickly when friends and acquaintances say things like that and I’m in my thirties? I guess that kind of self-consciousness never goes away. I’m better about it now, though–instead of vaguely lying about how I, too, enjoy mostly old books, I’ll straight up say, “I hated a lot of the books we read in school and I don’t click with the classics and I mostly like to read about queer people, so I generally only read modern books.”
Same goes for historical. If a historical novel is good or comes with strong recommendations, I’ll pick it up, but generally historical novels are a turn-off. Largely, I think, because of the aforementioned desire to read about queer characters who have happy endings, and people largely seem to believe that if you were queer in olden times, you died tragically and alone.
What is your favorite thing to eat when you read?
These days most of my “reading” is actually audiobook-ing, which I largely do in the car or on the T, so……coffee, I guess? That is normally what I’m drinking when I’m driving.
Silver: A song that reminds you of someone specific, good or bad.
I Gotta Feeling byThe Black Eyed Peas, some highschool friends and i went on a trip the summer that song was everywhere so it reminds me of that trip in general but specifically of the cab ride to the police station because we'd lost a member of our group (turned out she was at the apartment haha) so yeah whenever i hear that song i think of that group of people
Black: Name at least 5 songs you would play if you suddenly found out you had to dj at a club tonight!
(don’t ask me what kind of party this is i don’t know)
Movements -Pham, Yung FusionTalk Dirty - Jason DeruloUptown Funk - Bruno MarsI Love It - Icona PopGrip - Sage the Gemini
Talk Dirty is not just because I like it as a club song, but also because this one time I went clubbing in Seoul there were these two guys dressed up in nice slacks and dress shoes and fancy pea coats and v neck sweaters with a dress shirt underneath (which is like? WHY?????? your sweat will kill you) and they were just standing on the front of the stage sort of coolly bopping their heads to the beat the whole time until that bit came on and they SHIMMIED AS HARD AS I HAVE EVER SEEN ANYONE SHIMMY THEY OUTSHIMMIED EVERY PERSON EVER so now i have to hear it at every party
Nasturium: Have you ever been the one to be told a secret? Did you keep it or did you share it with someone else? Was the secret worth being kept?
i don’t think i’ve ever shared a ‘secret secret’ with anyone, but there was this one instant where a friend told me about something her boyfriend did in his life and i ended up telling my mom.
Sunflower: Name one thing that will always make you smile.
My younger brother took this one photo of our dog when he was still a pup in which he’s leaning against the glass off the back door and he looks like a little angry man yelling at cats to get out of his garden, he looks so silly it always makes me laugh!
I think they’ve both got some things they’re insecure about because they’re both young and figuring themselves out. I want to say Aglae would win because even though Peggy has that whole “youngest of three sisters, gets lovingly picked on a lot, wants to be more independent but doesn’t actually know how to do that and turns out that sleeping alone away from family is kind of scary how am I supposed to do this if I ever got sick or injured and I don’t know how to read adult ™ mail or make my own appointments” thing going on, Aglae was similarly sheltered and now is really separated from her family and old friends and isn’t sure at all that she’s smart enough or cool enough or whatever enough to make it in the city. What if she made a huge mistake leaving her small town? What if she’s actually just into men and is brainwashed by the liberal city into thinking otherwise? What if her problems are all in her head and she just needs to try harder and accept what God gave her and stop trying to overreach? She definitely has more issues wanting people to like her than Peggy does.
19 how about teasing? do they tease each other while in a fight (whether it be with themselves or just general teasing)?
Answered
34 what scent reminds them of the other?
Aglae smells kind of like the inside of a Victoria’s Secret. They both associate scent memories from the Halloween party with each other, so crisp night air, alcohol/smoke, sweat, general city medley.
Tough call because I really love both pairings but I’ll admit that often I’m partial to canon and this is one case of this. I just really love the Vansnavi dynamics, the characters were created to be compatible and I really love them together.
She had agreed. She wasn’t happy about it, but she had agreed to the engagement; Gaston would lead his troops into battle for Avonlea, and when the war was over, she would become Madame Gaston. It was the only way to save her people, but it wasn’t what she dreamed of. Belle dreamed of adventure and love, the sort of things she read about in her books; was condemning herself to a life on a shallow knight’s arm really the only way she could be any sort of hero? It didn’t feel heroic—and now it just felt like an awful weight pulling her down, now that she had time and space in which to think.
She threw herself onto her bed, and pulled the book she’d been reading out from under her pillow. But her eyes weren’t really focused on the story; she was thinking about the engagement. There was a chance that he wouldn’t come back from the war—and she would be free—but that was a horrible thought. She didn’t want him dead...just...gone.
Her eyes settled on the page for a moment. “Goblin King, Goblin King, wherever you may be, take this child of mine far away from me!” she read. If only it were that simple. “I wish the goblins would take Gaston away,” she muttered under her breath.
She was startled by a sudden gust of wind that forced open her windows and the door of her room, and the sound of echoing laughter. A feeling of dread filled her stomach, and she stood up, rushing to the door. People were yelling downstairs in the hall; Sir Gaston had vanished! It wasn’t supposed to actually work! It was just a story!
Belle ran to the window, leaning out of it. “I didn’t mean it!” she called into the darkness. Stars were twinkling overhead. “Bring him back!” He was the one who was supposed to save the kingdom—where would they be without him?
The wind flowing through the window increased, and an owl hooted as it flew through the window. Belle took a few steps back so it wouldn’t fly into her, covering her face protectively with her arms but peeking between them to see where the creature was. Suddenly it wasn’t a creature at all standing before her, but a man—a tall man in a flowing garment and high, shining boots, with light hair that played in the wind as it died down. He gazed at her with steady eyes and a smile playing on his lips.
Belle, always quick, narrowed her eyes slightly at him, lowering her arms. “You’re him—the Goblin King?” she half-asserted and half-asked. There wasn’t any need for him to answer; the book had described him well enough. “Please bring back Gaston,” she said.
“Only a moment ago you wished him away,” Jareth replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you so fickle? Do you truly desire his return?”
Belle’s eyes were almost as steady as the king’s as she gazed back at him. “My kingdom needs him,” she answered.
“That’s not what you truly desire, though, is it?” the king asked. He took three or four strides, circling her appraisingly, and then produced a small crystal ball, holding it up for her. “You desire adventure. You want to be the hero.”
It was true, of course; Belle could hardly deny it. But heroes had to make sacrifices—like marrying a man she could never truly love. “What’s that?” she asked, gesturing at the crystal.
“A crystal—nothing more.” Jareth smoothly slid the ball over his hands, conducting a mesmerizing dance with it. “But it can give you your dreams.” He held it out again, offering it to her.
Belle shook her head. “We need Gaston,” she said. “Nothing else matters. My kingdom will be destroyed without his men.”
Jareth gave a little sigh. “What’s done is done,” he said, taking a step closer to the woman. She really was stunningly beautiful, he thought—though he wished he had not noticed. He dismissed the crystal, and put two gloved fingers under her chin, raising her face to examine it more closely. He had a weakness for the humans, and he could not afford to show such weaknesses. Yet this one was clearly distressed by the results of her wish.
“I’m willing to do anything,” Belle said suddenly, taking a step away from his touch. “Whatever it takes—to bring him back.”
“There is one way,” Jareth replied. “But it will not be easy.” Her bedroom melted away around them, and they were standing on a hill overlooking the labyrinth. “He is there,” the king said. “In the castle beyond the goblin city.”
Belle looked over the daunting maze. “And the only way to get there is through the labyrinth,” she concluded.
Jareth pursed his lips. “Time is short. You are not likely to succeed. And I can take you back—you can live free of him, as you desired. You are only trapping yourself if you seek his return.”
“No one decides my fate but me,” Belle whispered, turning away from the goblin king. She steeled herself to face whatever dangers the maze had in store. “Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.” When she glanced back, the king was gone. Belle hesitated only a moment, and then aimed her steps toward the maze.
***
Jareth was highly distracted in his castle. Belle was quick and smart; the labyrinth’s puzzles were falling before her intelligence like so many dominoes. And the thing was, he didn’t want her to succeed. It was not a matter of pride this time, as it usually was—this felt like more than a mere game to him. He did not wish her any harm; what he wanted, what he was afraid to admit to himself, was for her to fail so that she would not be tethered to Gaston. The idiot had been banging around and shouting all sorts of buffoonish nonsense in the dungeon where the king had eventually been forced to put him—just to protect the goblins from the oaf, who had been attempting to kill them with anything he could find. Belle, delicate and bright, with a spirit that he only admired more as he watched her conquer the labyrinth, deserved so much better than to be the bride of such a man.
He had begun inventing excuses to visit her in the labyrinth, just so he could hear her voice and talk to her. She only seemed to become more determined with each visit, though her eyes peered at him as if she was trying to puzzle him out—as if understanding him was as important as understanding the labyrinth. It was both alluring and frightening to Jareth, because she did seem to understand him, bit by bit. And he was falling for her. It was dangerous and exciting at the same time, a surprise he hadn’t expected at all when he’d first encountered her.
“She’s almost to the gate of the city,” a goblin announced, and Jareth pressed his lips together. He had to do something—something to protect Belle from the fate she seemed determined to accept.
He met her in a green space just beyond the gate. “Do you think you are past all danger?” he asked her, making his voice stern and threatening.
Belle smiled at him, as if he was telling her a joke, and put a hand on his arm. “Not at all, Your Majesty,” she said. “But I told you before, I will get through the labyrinth, if that is the cost of saving my kingdom.” She was actually enjoying the adventure—despite the dangers she’d encountered, it was much of what she’d dreamed: the chance to be a hero, to see things beyond her kingdom.
“I can give you so much more,” Jareth said, and there was honesty in his offer that he hadn’t quite intended. He would give her more, if she would take it.
“You’ve already given me a lot,” Belle answered, and then lowered her eyes. “One adventure before I...give it all up to save my kingdom. I should thank you.”
Jareth was surprised, and then speechless, as Belle’s lips met his cheek. He vanished, not daring to spend another moment there with her. He couldn’t violate the terms of the contract. He couldn’t risk defying his family, his position, for a stubborn human girl...
The goblins of the city were idiots, hardly up to the task of outwitting Belle, and she was in the castle before Jareth had time to process what he would do or say. He would have to surrender and return the girl’s fiancé to her. He met her once more, with the last offer he could make—more than he’d ever dared before.
“Belle,” he said, taking one of her hands, so tiny in his gloved hand. “You can still turn away. It’s not too late.”
She tilted her head. “I’ve beaten your labyrinth,” she declared. “I’ve come for Gaston.”
“But you don’t love him. Yes, you’ve won him back—I will return him as you ask.” The king hid his nervousness, but there was desperation in his voice that Belle could sense. “I can return him, Belle, but you can stay here. You have a choice. I’m offering you the choice that he will never give you. You can stay here, with me. You can decide your own fate.”
Belle bit her lip, examining the goblin king as if reading him like one of her beloved books. Daringly, she reached up and pushed a lock of his hair away from his cheek. “I have to protect my family,” she said quietly, a note of sadness in her voice. “That’s why I agreed to marry him in the first place.”
“Then we’ll find another way,” the king said. “You, Belle, are kind and resourceful, and by far the most intelligent human I’ve met. You do not need to bend to the will of such a man to achieve your goals.”
Her eyes glittered. He was such a delightful mystery to uncover. “You would rather I bent to your will?”
“If you would, I would be your slave,” Jareth vowed.
Belle wound her arms around his neck. “If I can protect my people and be with you...” she began, all but ready to accept his offer. Jareth stiffened, uncertain how to take this affection she was offering; it was everything he desired, but it seemed too good to be true.
“You can. I will send your Gaston back to your world to defeat the ogres—and ensure that he does—and you can stay here, with me.”
Belle nodded her assent, and then kissed the Goblin King.
