Have they stopped filming for S7 of ACGAS? I haven't seen any BTS photos in a while from our talented photographers. I need some lovely S&A shots to inspire my hope until January! 🥴
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Like everyone else, I'm disappointed in the emotional whiplash in the S6CS after an otherwise stellar season. I am, however, cautiously optimistic. I remain convinced that S&A are endgame; I just hope we at least get a whole season of them as sweethearts. I visualize S at some point in S7 (the earlier the better), breaking off a date / relationship / engagement with D, then approaching A and telling her his true feelings. I imagine it begining something like this:
"I tried to make a go of things with Dorothy on your advice, but it could never work. NO ONE could ever work. Because they are not YOU."
The prompt "Accidental Mirroring" was sent to me by @royalbesties. Not sure, this is what you wanted it to be, but here we go...
He had never noticed it, or at least, he hadn't given it too much thought before, but now he couldn't unsee it. Was he now cursed? Thinking about it, he would prefer being blindsided, oblivious, unaware. Ignorance, as they said, was bliss.
"Blimey."
"What's wrong?" Next to him Charlotte appeared, and for a moment the fragrance of her perfume was distracting him. Annoyed, Tristan led the glass to his lips only to register it was empty. Maybe there wasn't enough booze to get over this any time soon.
"I've just seen something I want to…forget, ignore, deny."
"Oh dear…" She chuckled. "What's this about?" His answer was a silent glance across the parlour of the busy pub. By the fireplace Tristan's brother and Mrs Hall were standing next to each other, very close indeed, chatting.
"Is this about your brother and Mrs Hall?"
"It is," he confessed with a vexed sigh. Against his better judgement, he couldn't take his eyes from away. He already felt like stalker for observing them, but here he was, morbidly mesmerised and equally confused. Had it always been like this between them? And if so, why had he missed it?
"They mirror each other in everything they do. They drink at the same time, they smile at each other, they finish each other's sentences. And look at the dogs!" He added. Dash and Jess were both lying at their feet, eyes closed, noses touching.
Charlotte remained to be unfazed. "I told you so. They're like twins…worse actually."
"Jesus! Now she's touching his elbow and he's leaning in…" Disgusted by what he thought could end in a kiss, he turned his head. "Why?!"
"Dear Tristan…" Charlotte cleared her throat. "It's not the end of the world to realise that you're brother has fallen in love. Yours, Charlotte."
"Dear Charlotte…" He drew a deep breath. "I know, it's not unheard of, but this woman has been like a mother to me. So forgive me, if I don't want my mother and my brother to…breed. Yours, disillusioned Tristan."
"Dear Tristan, get over it. Love Charlotte."
He rolled his eyes. "Is it really that easy?"
"It was with us. Give them a chance." She placed a soft kiss on his mouth and turned his face, so he saw Audrey and Siegfried clinking glasses. Then, they simultaneously put their glasses down and Siegfried offered Audrey his arm. Tristans' eyes grew big when the couple smiled at each other and his brother placed a tender kiss on Audrey's cheek. The dogs rose and stretched, before they patiently waited to be leashed.
"They're leaving," he commented with a touch of panic in his voice. "What if they go home?"
"To enjoy some privacy?" Charlotte asked. "Sounds like a splendid idea. Just them, some music, a glass of something. I can see it."
"I don't want to see it," Tristan moaned. "Gosh, why did you tell you me to watch them? Why did you want me to know?! I thought you loved me!"
"Oh, I do love you, Tristan Farnon. And they love each other."
"Can't they do it without all the touching…?"
"Only when you start loving me without all the touching." Amused by the expression on his face, she pressed a kiss on his cheek. "You could take me away from here, too," she suggested.
"Just us?" He asked, "Some music, and a glass of something?"
"See, in the end you learned something from your brother."
"As long as we can go somewhere else… It's been some time since we danced in a stable."
"I like your way of thinking." Apparently inspired by the idea, Charlotte intertwined his fingers with her own.
Outside the pub the late winter breeze, brushed over them, and Charlotte snuggled deeply into her coat. Across the deserted market square, Charlotte spotted two people and their dogs nearby the front door of Skeldale House. While the dogs were sitting down, pressed against each other, the couple was caught up in a loving embrace and a deep kiss.
"Dear Tristan," Charlotte said dreamily. "I hope in twenty years' time the two of us will be exactly like this."
Tristan who felt much better, watching his brother kissing Mrs H from afar, pulled Charlotte against him. "My dearest Charlotte, I very much hope the same."
Thanks for the prompt, chosen from the Fluffuary Prompts, to be found here . I picked the prompt "I choose you."
If anyone wants to send me another prompt, feel free to do so - as always I can't promise anything, but I'll do my very best.
"I choose you." The words, simple, so unlike him, took their time before they settled in. Perplexed, Audrey blinked, staring at the flowers in her hands. Daffodils. The yellow was glowing like a beacon in the darkness, a darkness that had claimed her since Christmas.
"I don't…" How could there a bouquet of Daffodils in her hands? Didn't they belong into the gardens and meadows, where they served as the harbingers of spring? None of this made any sense. Why would he give them to her?
"I choose you." He repeated the words and to make sure she understood him, he came closer. Earlier he had insisted on buying a ticket for the Daffodil ball for her, and she had refused. Why should she go there? To act as the third wheel? As the chaperone no one needed anyway?
She had a bit of self-worth left, but Siegfried had bought the ticket anyway.
Then Helen had told her to dress up and annoyed by all the nagging, she had agreed to do just that. And now she was standing in the hallway, wearing a polka-dotted dress and with the shade of lipstick that wasn't really suitable for a chaperone. And he had given her flowers.
Of course, he looked dashing as always and his cologne was messing with her senses. Surely it must be a new one, because she couldn't remember smelling it on him before.
"Choose me for what?" She finally asked, because she knew it was on her to say something, anything before this would become even more embarrassing than it already was.
"Thinking about it… it seems rather preposterous to phrase it like this."
Her eyebrow shot up in response and alarmed by her glare, he cleared his throat. "I think what I want to say is that I want go out with you, and no one else. Impartially of the question…the answer is always you." She had heard the words, uttered overcome by emotion, before. He was always so dramatic, so candid in one minute and in the next he complained about the lack of sardines in the pantry. Siegfried and his complicated inner world couldn't be taken too seriously, could they?
"What about…"
"She understands."
"But how…"
"For once I didn't listen to your advice and just did what my gut told me to do," he said. "And it told me to throw caution in the wind. And my advice for you would be to do the same."
"Throw caution in the wind?" She repeated. Caution was what had saved her time and time again. How was she supposed to ignore it now?
"It's a leap of faith," he admitted. "For both of us."
Her eyes trailed along the blossom of the nearest daffodil. The harbinger of spring, the flower that symbolised a new beginning. An end of the darkness…
"I want to dance with you," he said solemnly. "And I want everyone to see that you're the woman I want. The only one."
"They'll say…"
"So bloody what? The country's going to the dogs, they ration the bread, and as it looks like none of us will ever be able to get their hands on a new pair of underwear anytime soon." She gasped at the defiance of his demeanour. "To bloody hell with what people think!"
Her instinct to point out that this wasn't about knickers and bread, but their reputation, was beaten by the beauty of the flowers in her hands. The symbol of a new beginning. How she wanted it to be true!
"I want to dance with you, too," she admitted. She had wanted to do just that since he had first left the house to go to a dance in 1934. Now it was 1946 and perhaps it was time she made her claim. "I'll just put these in water," she said.
As the daffodils graced her small desk in the scullery, and she returned to him, he was holding her coat open for her. It had been decades since a man had helped her into a coat and the gesture, as small it was, left her all flustered. Then his hands lay firmly on her shoulders and she felt his beard tickling her temple when he placed a shy kiss against it.
"Are you ready?"
"No," she confessed and then they both chuckled. "Me neither. But then who is?"
It was a good question. One she had no answer for. Maybe the idea to choose each other for tonight for starters was a good way to go about it. One step at a time.
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Thanks for the prompt, chosen from the Fluffuary Prompts, to be found here . I picked the prompt "I choose you."
If anyone wants to send me another prompt, feel free to do so - as always I can't promise anything, but I'll do my very best.
"I choose you." The words, simple, so unlike him, took their time before they settled in. Perplexed, Audrey blinked, staring at the flowers in her hands. Daffodils. The yellow was glowing like a beacon in the darkness, a darkness that had claimed her since Christmas.
"I don't…" How could there a bouquet of Daffodils in her hands? Didn't they belong into the gardens and meadows, where they served as the harbingers of spring? None of this made any sense. Why would he give them to her?
"I choose you." He repeated the words and to make sure she understood him, he came closer. Earlier he had insisted on buying a ticket for the Daffodil ball for her, and she had refused. Why should she go there? To act as the third wheel? As the chaperone no one needed anyway?
She had a bit of self-worth left, but Siegfried had bought the ticket anyway.
Then Helen had told her to dress up and annoyed by all the nagging, she had agreed to do just that. And now she was standing in the hallway, wearing a polka-dotted dress and with the shade of lipstick that wasn't really suitable for a chaperone. And he had given her flowers.
Of course, he looked dashing as always and his cologne was messing with her senses. Surely it must be a new one, because she couldn't remember smelling it on him before.
"Choose me for what?" She finally asked, because she knew it was on her to say something, anything before this would become even more embarrassing than it already was.
"Thinking about it… it seems rather preposterous to phrase it like this."
Her eyebrow shot up in response and alarmed by her glare, he cleared his throat. "I think what I want to say is that I want go out with you, and no one else. Impartially of the question…the answer is always you." She had heard the words, uttered overcome by emotion, before. He was always so dramatic, so candid in one minute and in the next he complained about the lack of sardines in the pantry. Siegfried and his complicated inner world couldn't be taken too seriously, could they?
"What about…"
"She understands."
"But how…"
"For once I didn't listen to your advice and just did what my gut told me to do," he said. "And it told me to throw caution in the wind. And my advice for you would be to do the same."
"Throw caution in the wind?" She repeated. Caution was what had saved her time and time again. How was she supposed to ignore it now?
"It's a leap of faith," he admitted. "For both of us."
Her eyes trailed along the blossom of the nearest daffodil. The harbinger of spring, the flower that symbolised a new beginning. An end of the darkness…
"I want to dance with you," he said solemnly. "And I want everyone to see that you're the woman I want. The only one."
"They'll say…"
"So bloody what? The country's going to the dogs, they ration the bread, and as it looks like none of us will ever be able to get their hands on a new pair of underwear anytime soon." She gasped at the defiance of his demeanour. "To bloody hell with what people think!"
Her instinct to point out that this wasn't about knickers and bread, but their reputation, was beaten by the beauty of the flowers in her hands. The symbol of a new beginning. How she wanted it to be true!
"I want to dance with you, too," she admitted. She had wanted to do just that since he had first left the house to go to a dance in 1934. Now it was 1946 and perhaps it was time she made her claim. "I'll just put these in water," she said.
As the daffodils graced her small desk in the scullery, and she returned to him, he was holding her coat open for her. It had been decades since a man had helped her into a coat and the gesture, as small it was, left her all flustered. Then his hands lay firmly on her shoulders and she felt his beard tickling her temple when he placed a shy kiss against it.
"Are you ready?"
"No," she confessed and then they both chuckled. "Me neither. But then who is?"
It was a good question. One she had no answer for. Maybe the idea to choose each other for tonight for starters was a good way to go about it. One step at a time.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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I've been letting my thoughts about the Christmas special steep for a little bit and now I need to get them out on paper the old Tumblr blog.
The war years were obviously difficult for Siegfried. He has always prided himself on "his flock" being under his wing, but suddenly everyone had flown the nest and he spent the next three-ish years mostly alone.
In 1945, everyone is slowly returning. But, as I'm sure Siegfried is well aware of, because any truly lonely person will fear the possibility of becoming lonely again, and as Mrs. Stokes so gently reminded him, they won't be there forever. Audrey has improved her relationship with Edward and she's a grandmother now; Tristan is in a serious relationship with Charlotte; James has his own family. Everyone has their own #1 priority and it's never Siegfried (or at least that's what he thinks.)
Then along comes Dorothy. At first he's clearly reluctant. He almost seems uncomfortable.
The conversation he has with Audrey is illuminating to me. Siegfried quite beautifully admits he wants to find a soulmate. He's such a romantic person. Yearning personified. But then in waltzes Audrey who is always lovingly meddling, always thinking there's something that needs to be fixed, but who is not always perfectly in touch with her own or other people's feelings. Here she majorly misses the bull's eye by pushing Siegfried at Dorothy, because (paraphrased) soulmates don't exist and we should go for the next best thing?
It's just such a shame to me that this scene is read as OOC... But I can understand why. I wish the writers paid more attention to Audrey's private struggles. Perhaps if Helen hadn't been absent for so much of s6, we would have had more scenes with Audrey talking about her feelings. It's hard to understand why, in the understanding that A/S is endgame, she would push another woman at him. Especially after the steps taken in s6. If we had had just one conversation where she, I don't know, talks to Helen about someone mistaking her for Mrs. Farnon again, and expresses her awkwardness..?, then this move would've been much more understandable in line with their romantic development.
Meanwhile the actual wording of that conversation is beyond significant of course -- I don't think either of them realise it. I can't remember the exact words but "what if it [love] is right under your nose?" Was Dorothy ever right under his nose....... I don't think so, Audrey ;)
I saw some complaints on Twitter that the animal story usually ties in with character development, but that it didn't here. I'm here to say I disagree majorly! Mrs Stokes had a rich life on the stage, but in her old age she's all by herself on a Yorkshire farm (at the edge of the world, she calls it, or something like that?), with only an ageing goat for comfort. Then that goat DIES. Now she's all alone, forever.
And I feel like this is the catalyst for Siegfried, who fears loneliness more than anything, to reach out to Dorothy and invite her to the Drovers. This is what makes Siegfried decide: "Well, maybe Mrs. Hall is right, maybe the next best thing will suffice, if there's no soulmate for me. She's nice enough."
I do genuinely wonder if this whole storyline was added because of the double season renewal. Was s7 supposed to be the final one? Do we now need to fill 14 episodes with conflict, instead of 7?
I think s7 will (need to) be focused on the consequences of Audrey's actions.
Because if Siegfried asks himself "Who could my soulmate be?", then he already has the answer, in his own words: "Irrespective of the question, the answer is always you, Mrs. Hall."
"I shan't think much of you if you don't drink that brew, Siegfried" Audrey said, mitigating the asperity of the words by reaching her hand across the table to touch his where it lay curled in a fist.
His hand, beneath hers, was cold as ice still, and she gave him a look, silently conveying with her eyes that he ought to wrap both hands around the steaming up of tea she'd offered him. Stubborn as ever, the hand beneath hers remained just where it was.
"It's well-sugared," she said conversationally. His hair was still wet, clinging to his forehead even though she'd pressed flannels into his hands and told him to dry off the moment he'd appeared in the doorway of Skeldale House, dripping wet. She was surprised that she hadn't seen icicles stubbornly clinging to his moustache, as well.
A few days after the surrender, it was as if the Almighty had decided that it weren't right to have too much of a good thing, and a cold snap had gripped the Dales. Icy winds came down from the north, along with driving rain and bone-chilling temperatures that made one wonder if it were November rather than May. James was out on a call and Tris was nowhere to be found when the telephone had rung, sending Siegfried out into the cold himself to check on a ewe stuck in the second stage of labor with no end in sight. That had been hours ago, and when he finally returned home, wet, bedraggled, and positively shaking with cold, Audrey had taken one look at the sorry state of him and ordered him to sit while she got him a cup of tea.
"Can we spare the sugar?" he asked wryly. Audrey fixed him with another look and gave an elegant shrug of her shoulders.
"War's over, at least in Europe," she said quietly. "Surely rationing won't last forever now that the fighting's done. Don't give me that look, Mr. Farnon, I remember good and well how long it lasted after the last war," she said when she saw him open his mouth. His lower lip shook a little bit, and his hand beneath hers was trembling from the cold, as well. She gently turned it over in her palm (pushed down the thought of bringing it to her lips and kissing the icy, callused skin of his palm) and wrapped it around the mug of tea herself.
"It were no trouble," she said easily. "With so much to celebrate and you wandering off into a near-blizzard in May, yes, we can spare the sugar. I daresay you've earned it. You're chilled to the bone."
He harrumphed softly but he was already bringing the tea to his lips. His mouth closed as he took a long sip and let out an appreciative hum. "Bloody good tea," he said quietly.
Audrey beamed at the compliment and sat back in her chair to watch him drink. He was still shivering.
"And you better drink all of it," Audrey warned. "Last thing we need is for you to catch your death of cold. After it's all gone, you're marching straight upstairs to a bath, and no argument."
The wind continued to rattle the boards and shutters of Skeldale House and Siegfried looked, for a moment, like he was gearing up for an argument.
"A little cold never--"
"I'd be more inclined to listen to whatever it is you're going to say if you weren't shivering like a leaf, Mr. Farnon. Drink your tea."
Whatever sharp retort had been on the tip of his tongue was drowned out by a gust of wind that rattled the shutters and woke Jess up from his fireplace nap with a muffled bark of indignation. Both Siegfried and Audrey half-rose from their chairs, but at Audrey's look, he settled back down and after a moment, she did too.
"You know," he said after a few more sips, "there was a time when I thought I'd never drink your tea again."
She rolled her eyes, but it was done in affection. "I were just in Sunderland," she reminded him for the umpteenth time, "it weren't Timbuktu."
"Well, it might as well have been bloody Timbuktu!" he protested, setting the mug down with a clatter. "And if you were there, where would I be? I'd have been left to freeze to death." He was shaking in earnest now, the tea forgotten, and Audrey crossed to him in an instant to put a hand to his forehead.
"Mr. Farnon?" she asked, and then quieter, gentler, "Siegfried?"
"And I'd have never gotten the chance to--"
"Hush, now," Audrey soothed. She took hold of his shoulders, the tea forgotten for the moment. "Hush, we must get you warm. Come on. Upstairs. Bath, then bed."
"T-this is highly improper, M-Mrs. Hall," he remarked almost conversationally as his teeth chattered.
"I'm not worried about propriety, I'm worried about you," she said easily, wrapping an arm around him to keep him upright as they made their way to the stairs. "Come along."
"Audrey," he whispered, making her look at him. It was the second time in near as many days that he'd called her by her Christian name.
"Yes?"
"Please don't leave me again," he whispered, trying hard to get the words out through chattering teeth. "Not to Sunderland, not to Timbuktu. Please, please. Don't leave. Not again."
"I won't," Audrey said immediately. "I won't, I promise. I'm not going anywhere."
Nothing to see here.. Just a housekeeper and her bestie boss having a midnight convo in their pajamas looking at eachother with heart eyes for the 1,000th time. Definitely something Dorothy should be a part of 🤨
I love it! So creative! And all the little touches...pants on the bed in the messy bedroom, Mrs. H's is obviously the tidy bedroom, ironing board in the kitchen. In the attic are a few cobwebs, and my favorite? The picture (or is it a tin?) of giant sardines! 😆
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This was an absolutely exceptional article. Agree 💯! Writers, please take note, and treat our characters and their lives with more respect. We love them! 💔➡️❤
Well. Like everyone else, after being giddy with excitement for episodes 1-6, and eagerly looking forward to the Christmas special, now I'm feeling totally let down and in a state of mourning for Siegfried and Audrey. 🥺💔😭 I'm not totally surprised for them to backtrack somewhat, but I didn't expect them to go totally off the rails.
However. Now I'm putting on my big girl panties and trying to see a clear way through the wreckage. Although I'm feeling some ambivalence toward Siegfried (the jerk!), truthfully part of the blame lies with our dear Audrey. So, if the writers hold true to form, we'll spend all of season 7 watching her struggle with new-found emotions of love, jealousy, regret, etc. I hate that! But, it looks like that's the only way through this mess.
So, I've been trying to visualize what that will look like. She won't be pouty and competitive like Siegfried. But I imagine there will be plenty of awkward "third wheel" moments.
• Uncomfortable conversation between Audrey and Dorothy. Hopefully, it will help, and not strain their relationship. I don't think Dorothy is a bad person.
• Emotionally strained conversation between Audrey and Siegfried. Hopefully, some heart-to-heart conversations will cause them to open up their eyes to their true feelings (especially for Audrey).
• And maybe, conversation between Dorothy and Siegfried will keep revolving back to Audrey. Perhaps through it all, Dorothy will see that she is the untimely interloper, intruding in the blossoming relationship between Siegfried and Audrey, and then just graciously bow out. That would be the best resolution to the whole drama.
Another possible resolution, if things ultimately moved toward marriage for Siegfried and Dorothy, would be for Audrey to realize that there would be no place for her at Skeldale, and to tender her resignation. This would prompt a major realization for Siegfried that it is Audrey that he truly loves and couldn't live without.
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