Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned, but I love Robin Brightley. And when I say love, I mean it. If Robin were a real guy (and uh oh, giant problem here since he's partly inspired by someone I definitely don't have a massive stupid crush on ha ha no, you must be mistaking me for someone else) I would be disgustingly, shamelessly, giggling-at-all-his-stupid-jokes, schoolgirl crushing on him.
And no, before you scream "you'd date Robin? THEN NIGHTINGALE MUST BE A MARY SUE", let me explain you a thing:
First, Nightingale's not a Mary Sue. Holy shit, let me tell you that she's not anything I want to be. Ever. For any reason. In my life. As I have stated, of the characters written in I came out most like Caroline, NOT like Nightingale. Second, that's not why he ends up with Nightingale. Believe me, if I let my nauseating adoration of him dictate the way I write, I would've conveniently written in a character called Niamh who sweeps in and with her magical powers of seduction makes him swoon like the pretty princess he truly his, before swaggering off, fingers in belt-loops, stetson tipped backwards, with that fine piece of ass known as Robin Joseph Brightley.
Yes, that's his middle name. Don't ask me why. No, I never say that in Inamorata. It's in The Fires of Spring.
(insert shameless self-promotion here and authorial pleading for you to read my other stories)
But I don't let my love of characters dictate my writing. It just so happens that I love Robin. No, seriously. I really do. I am the #1 Robin Brightley fangirl. An accurate description of me would follow this pattern:
20% literature enthusiasm, 80% curly hair, 100% Robin Brightely stan.
Oh, that's 200%? WELL I'M TWICE THE WOMAN YOU'LL EVER BE.
See what I did there? I hope you did, otherwise that joke is flatter than a seriously flat tire. Not that I have much experience with flat tires. Or any experience, really. I'm no connoisseur of flat tires. I don't look at a tire and imagine it flat. Anyway, where was I?
Right. Robin. Okay, so why do I love him? People who share a devotion to him should understand. But considering that most of you have yelled at me at some point for putting Nightingale with Robin and not with David, I'm sensing a lot of you don't recognize his unparalleled superiority.
This is why I have come to your rescue! You don't understand why Robin is the man? Then this is the post for you. So pull up a chair, sit your ass down, and prepare to get a lecture on why you should want to do the dirty with Mr. Brightley (if you swing that way) or why you should want to be his best friend (heterosexual men, asexuals, and lesbians, I'm looking at you now. Y'all get a pass from wanting to tap that like an aquarium of tropical fish, but not from liking him).
Should I put this in a list? I'm going to put it in a list. Lists are neat.
- He's smart. Don't all of you like smart people? You do? Excellent! Robin's perfect for you, then. Smart, but he doesn't brag about it. For those of you who are like me and would like to be seduced by someone's massive, throbbing intellect, he's for you. Oh, Mr. Brightley, talk dirty to me by analyzing poetry.
- He's not handsome, but he's got physical things going for him. He's tall. And dark. And hella graceful. Like a fucking dancer or some shit. Damn, son, he moves like everything is supposed to be ridiculously elegant. Have you ever seen someone dance beautifully? Been to the ballet? To the theatre? That's how he moves. Everything is goddamn beautiful and it makes you wonder what...ahem...else he'd be graceful doing (insert suggestive eyebrow waggling). He's also extremely good with his hands and mouth. This is quickly becoming non-PG, so I'll leave the rest to your imagination, but let me just say this: Robin isn't ugly. Far from it. And he's got some talents that any person could appreciate. Besides, are you going to judge someone on looks alone?
- He's kind. He's sweet. He's gentle. He's understanding. He'd do anything for Nightingale. Need I say more?
- He's not emotionally constipated. As much as you like David, David is one of the most messed up, emotionally-stunted, blackmailing, psychotic lunatics ever to walk the metaphorical earth of my stories. Oh, you LIKE the fact that David is tall and brooding and almost never smiles? I dare you to marry him - Caroline will tell you how it's probably more fun to cohabitate with a surly alligator. Robin, on the other hand, is full capable of all emotions, and is able to express them.
- He's sassy. Find a character more sass-tastic than Robin, really. It ain't gonna happen. King of Sass, right here. And don't you like sassy people, provided the sass isn't directed at you. Hell yeah.
- He's not perfect. I think this is the most important thing. Like any good character should be, Robin has his flaws. He's certainly not perfect, though I've tried to make him as good as anyone can reasonably be. But I think this is important - Robin, while being unable to be perfection, comes as damn close as anyone I'v ever written.
Don't get me started on why David is unworthy of your affection, and why having a tortured soul doesn't excuse him being a first-rate asshole in most situations. But yeah, I don't want to have an angry mob equipped with pitchforks, torches, and "We Love David" signs screaming for my blood. So I'm just going to leave that there.
In all seriousness, I love Robin. But if you don't, you're entitled to your
(cue nervous laughter)
TL;DR: Robin Brightely inspires in me a desire to quote Ke$ha lyrics. Specifically, "turn around, boy, let me hit that." I think he should inspire this in you, too. But if he doesn't, that's okay. We'll just agree to disagree.