#I explained its likely a metaphor and all that but it didn’t really make that vibe go away
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Ok, just asking if you are open minded to it but…
What if the story goes around between God and Lucifer’s romantic story? How will they become so close and how will the other angels react to their relationship? Would you even like the relationship if they get along so well?
Hmm I’m a bit unsure what you’re asking. Do you mean, basically, what if ABM was about God x Lucifer (or, rather, what if God x Lucifer worked out) and what would happen?
To be honest, I don’t think it could have ever worked out. In ABM, their relationship is never more than predatory, though other angels don’t see it as that – why would they? Everything is good and perfect and wonderful in Heaven and God is good.
I mentioned a long time ago (?) that I was inspired by the story in Ezekiel 16 where God grooms Jerusalem (in a very literal way by making her enter puberty), marries her, then becomes wrathful when she falls in love with someone else and discovers her beauty, then assaults her in punishment.
But this is’t really the only instance where God has a weird romantic/sexual relationship with someone that is very obviously unhealthy. Mary comes to mind. Since I was young I always found the story of Mary’s pregnancy to be very odd (in Mexico, Mary is especially very very venerated.) Some people argue that Mary was too young; I haven’t seen the sources for that, so I can’t say if it’s true, but regardless of her age, I feel creating a perfect girl without sin to carry your child once she’s old enough to be uncomfortable. Some argue that it was all consensual, (Gabriel asked Mary and she said yes), but realistically, why would a young and impoverished woman say no to what could have changed her life for the better? Isn’t there a very obvious and clear power imbalance here? Mary having been born pure also leads to the conclusion that this was all pre-ordained anyway. Catholics’ obsession with her “perpetual virginity” (despite biblical lines that reference other children (Matthew 13)) and purity make it all feel borderline predatory on God’s part, in my opinion; I’m not even going to get into the fact that he’s also her Father.
On that note, there’s not a healthy way for God to have a relationship at all, is there? He can make you do anything, his safety as a partner is entirely contingent on his mercy, he knows everything about you, and he made you. He made you knowing you’d love him, he made you love him.
But the question is about Lucifer x God, and I think there’s an alternate ending where Michael doesn’t exist, Lucifer never learns any basic self respect, and he falls in love with God romantically. I think this would be a horror story. God is incapable of being a good partner, Lucifer acts like an obsessed servant, and the other angels would justify God’s actions because to say God is being, in easier terms, a creep is completely unimaginable. They don’t understand it, don’t have the language for it. And that’s it. An eternity of abuse with no one able to call it out. (Except Uriel, but Uriel would probably look away and pretend it isn’t happening).
You asked if I’m open-minded to it, and well, it’s definitely something I think about. The romantic idea of God making a most beautiful and perfect creation (like a lonely Dr. Frankenstein desperate for a lover) isn’t lost on me. I’m always struck by how Satan and God chat in the Book of Job (it feels very cute to me). But God is God and there is only one God and love can’t be unequal (in my opinion). Maybe if Lucifer indeed became a god, maybe.
#my college roommate wasn’t raised Christian and they always seemed bewildered by how predatory God seemed#they were HORRIFIED when we read Genesis together and God said who told you you were naked#I explained its likely a metaphor and all that but it didn’t really make that vibe go away#Im not saying i ONLY see god as predatory because i dont#but i dont think romance and god mix#well#im gonna keep from rambling more because. i dont wanna start getting too weird#i guess this is an uncomfortably topic for people but eh#the bible is already so damn weird#mine#ask
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Zealous jealous— Kang haerin x reader x Hanni (subtle)
Synopsis: you confessed what you’ve felt for her but it seemed like she didn’t feel the same? But that all changed when she saw you in another persons arms.
Requested: anon
You were pretty sure from the moment you caught a glimpse of her, she was going to be stuck in your mind for the rest of your nights.
It didn't help that she was only a room away—it didn't help that you were madly in love with your own member.
It just happened, love was unpredictable sometimes unimaginable. You wont know what hit you is the perfect metaphor you could explain what it felt.
She was just the right person you want to love, she fit exactly your hopeless romance daydreams.
She was nice, from her expression to her acts; she was an angel in disguise to you. Her smile was bright and warm, albeit clichéd. Her giggle was so contagious and endearing that you couldn't help but laugh along with her.
Love really does change people, whether for the better or for the worst.
You could say you and haerin were inseparable, you both were close since since debut. And that bond was the knot that led you to see her more than just a friend.
And no matter how close you two are, some people only adore from afar; you wanted that, but how can you admire from afar when she's only a foot away?
You sit just beside each other, even then sleep beside each other, eat together, watch together.
How exactly can you admire from afar if shes so near?
But even then, you tried to hide it anyway. You didnt have the courage to do so and even jeopardise such friendship, you never want to make things awkward for any of your members.
Yet, a heart get what it wants.
It was a little loud in the dorm, everyone gathered in a circle playing a game of truth or dare.
“C’mon Unnie! This isnt fair, that dare is way too mean!” Hyein complained.
“A dare is a dare hye, you must do it!” minji laughed loudly, clutching her stomach.
Hyein whined in annoyance, shooting glares at Minji. Because She was dared to eat a stick of celery.
As they kept arguing, the other two girls tried to stop the two from starting a brawl, while haerin just laughed at the scene that behold infront of her.
while she was distracted laughing you were taking a few glances at her, you cant help but hold back your smile not to make it too obvious.
Hanni had to tap my arms to gain my attention since I was too engrossed in my helpless daydream.
“Hey yn?” She says “you there”
I look back at everyone, as all their stares were now focus on me, making me embrassed.
“Yeah sorry, just a little distracted” I awkwardly laugh.
“Well then truth or dare!” Hyein, smirked “its your turn to pick now.”
I decided to pick truth, because i know how mischievous hyein is when it comes to these.
And as if she read my mind, she immediately said,
“Who do you like?”
I nervously scratched my nape, acting unconcerned, but my heart was pounding as I felt her stare.
“That’s a silly question, of course i dont like anyone,” i say.
“C’mon its so obvious,” She says “You like—“
“Okay, thats enough” Hanni laughs “Dont pressure yn like that, i want it to be my turn now!”
You mentally reminded yourself to give every bread hanni wants.
You give a light pat to the back on hanni, thanking her. She looks back at you smiling a little.
And despite after avoiding a close one, for some reason her gaze never left you, and that made you nervous you knew she liked to stare at people but this one felt different it felt like you were trap in by her eyes.
After playing a couple of more everyone has started to retreat back to their rooms, after hearing hyein yawn signalled that it was time for bed.
But you decided to stay in the living room to clean up the mess that were scattered.
You assumed everyone already went back to their rooms but that didnt seem to be the case, after everyone was gone you were left alone in the living room.
Thats until you heard faint footsteps from behind.
“Yn,” a familiar voice call out to you.
You look back to see the same eyes you’ve grown to love each day.
You felt yourself slightly blush, and you didnt know why.
“Oh, rin?” You say “why are you still here, shouldnt you be asleep?”
She didnt respond, she gazes back at you with an unreadable expression. And that made you anxious.
“Is there something wrong?” You ask again.
“Who do you like?”
You felt your body tense as it felt like a lump got stuck on your throat, you try to hide it.
“Haha, I dont like anyone” you try to play it off “seriously, dont believe hyein she just loves to mess around.”
She didnt seem to be convinced at your answer.
“Do you like hanni?” She ignores what you say.
“What no!” You tell her “like i said i dont like anyone.”
You despised lying, particularly to her. However, it seemed to be a better option than saying the truth.
“Why does Hanni know and i dont?” She continues “You guys seemed to have gotten closer—even closer than we are now.”
It was inevitable; you knew she'd figure it out eventually and the stalling would no longer work.
“It’s complicated, rin…”
“What is complicated about liking someone and telling me?” She says “do you not trust me enough?”
“Its not like that!” I stammer, “You wouldn’t want to know, trust me.”
I felt my heart take its pace, and the it wasnt the good type, it felt like it would drop any moment and theres nothing to catch it.
I could see her frown in the corner of my eyes as I avoided her gaze and focused on the polished floor.
“Why wont I want to know who you like, yn?” She says “You’re my best friend, of course I want to know everything about you.”
Of course that word “best friend” that’s all she ever sees me as a friend not a lover, not someone she wants to talk with about everything single detail of her life, not someone she greets in the morning, not someone she sees more than just a friend.
“Rin…” I mumble.
“I just dont get it, why wont I want to know?”
“It’s because, you’re the one I like,” i say with a shake in my voice, still avoiding her gaze.
And for once, the silence between us was different; it wasn't comfortable, it didn't seem like the silence we'd share whenever we were together—it felt deafening, yet too quiet for you, you wanted her to say something but it seemed like all she could give you was nothing.
“Yn…” the sympathy in her voice, made me hate it more, she was too kind.
“Yn, look at me,” she says.
I didnt want to look at her becuase i knew the moment i did, the answer would be there—one gaze was enough to be the answer.
“Please…” she pleaded.
It felt impossible, but i did anyway. And just like that, her eyes revealed the answers, and it hurt—it wasn't the eyes of someone ready to love me, it was the eyes of someone ready to tell me the things I don't want to hear but are the only thing I'll get.
“I’m sorry.”
Two words. Two words was all it took.
It was the first two words, but the last. And everything altered radically from the way it was.
Every since that you tried to be more normal around her, but it was harder than you expected—it felt force for you, you couldnt forget about her properly, you decided to find a better distraction—a diversion away from her.
And Hanni has been there for you ever since; when she spotted you crying in your room, she was there. She was always there for you when you needed her.
you’ve grown more fonder with her and lost more familiarity with haerin, but that was for the best wasnt it?
It had been two weeks since you'd drifted apart from Haerin and further into the arms of Hanni's company; it's not that you weren't sad, but for the time being you kept a barrier between yourselves because you were frightened to be hopeful.
Haerin didn't seem bothered by it; she understood why you were avoiding her, but it would be a lie to say it didn't pain her any less.
You avoided her from seating beside each other, even standing just beside her—even hold a long conversation or have the ounce of courage to look her in the eye.
And that hurt her even more, but she tried to understand.
But her intuition were right, you’ve grown fonder with Hanni ever since the talk. It looked more like you guys were a couple than as friends, and she had this irritating feeling whenever she saw you guys.
Hanni would always cling to your arms, like someone would separate you from her. You used to do that with her, before.
Its like ever since you both stopped talking, Hanni became more closer, far too close for Haerin’s liking.
She didnt understand why she hated it.
And today was no exception; Hanni was clinging to you like glue. But this time the frustration feeling grew—the more she repressed everything she felt, the more clear it became.
She hated to admit it, but ever since she lost you, she began to love you.
The motto that goes, “you know its love when its too late”
Thats what Haerin felt at that moment. And it didnt help her case at all especially with hanni holding you within her arms—that should be her, she thought.
You were gathered in the living room, as usual, watching a horror movie, which Haerin knew you disliked, but Minji was eager to see the new conjuring movie. And knowing you, you never had the heart to say no.
And at this type of situation, Haerin was ready to hold you and give you solace but instead hanni took her spot and all she could do was stare as she puts her arms around you, smiling like an idiot. Haerin wasnt insulting Hanni at all, Hanni indeed looked like she was smiling a little too much.
She hated that.
She hated the fact that she was feeling what she shouldnt, she didnt deserve to feel this but in the end she does.
Did you move on already? Have you stopped looking at her like she makes the stars glow at night? Have you seen someone better than her?
The thoughts was enough to drive someone insane, and that made her more frustrated.
She didnt get it, she cant understand why she felt like this.
She looks at you, as you laid your head against Hanni’s shoulder, like you didnt do that with her before.
She wasnt mad, no. She was fiery of jealousy.
I mean who wouldnt? To see someone else doing the things you guys used to do.
Haerin was no longer interested in the movie since she was fixated on you. Her entire attention was completely on you.
And when the scary scenes came, her heart ached even more, as you reciprocated Hanni’s embrace.
She just couldnt take her eyes off you, she could remember each detail of your face like the back of her hands.
And before she knew it the movie ended and it was time to go to bed.
But she couldn’t sleep if it ended like this.
Everyone was already sound asleep, it was one in the morning.
You were awoken from thirst so you decided to get a cup of water in the kitchen.
With tired footsteps you carry the weight of your drowsiness to the sink.
As you leaned against the counter you lazily drank, letting your guard down.
And suddenly out of nowhere you felt arms wrap around you, someone was hugging you from the back.
You squeal, as you try to look back to see who it was but something stopped you from doing so.
“Yn,” a whisper, as you felt her lean her head against your back.
It was haerin.
“Rin?” You recoginized the voice right away, like a muscle memory.
You felt her relax, she missed hearing her name off your lips.
“hi,” she says.
“hello?” You reply “What are you doing?”
There was a silent pause, and it made you worried.
You try to face her but she stops you.
“Don’t move, dont turn around” she mumbles “please, I dont want to see you yet.”
And you agreed in silence.
“Are you okay?” You ask.
“No,” she says.
There was again a pause, you felt her warp her arms even tighter.
“I miss you.”
You felt the beat of your heart grow faster, but it ached as you recalled the past.
“Rin, you cant do this,” you frowned “this isnt fair.”
“I do miss you.”
“But it isnt fair, you cant do this to me.” You felt your voice quiver “You cant…”
“Yn—“
“you’ll just make it hard for me” you cut her off.
And even if you wanted to take her embrace off, you felt her tighten it even more.
“I love you, Yn.”
You thought you were hearing things but she said it again,
“I love you,” she says it a little louder.
You felt your body tense, hearing such words from her? Was this a dream?
“Are you messing with me right now?” You say “its not funny haerin.”
“Seeing you with Hanni, made me realise many things.”
“I was a coward, Yn.” She mumurs “I was afraid—afraid for such change, i was scared that if things change, I’ll lose you eventually.”
“And i dont want that, I cant bare to lose you.”
change was a complicated word, it could mean good or bad, haerin thought it was a hard and a big step thing to do, because how much she tried to hold onto something, it’ll never stay. Sometimes she wished things were different, she always ended with a “maybe” or “what if”
She was terrified of change because she had become accustomed to the way things were; it was a part of her everyday. And for such an alteration to occur, she was hesitant to take such a risk.
“Rin, why didn’t you tell me?”
You tried to face her but she didnt budge at all.
“Dont turn around yet.”
“I was just scared, if i told you—you’d wait and understand and i didnt want that, i thought it’d be too much of a burden for you.”
“You’ll never be a burden to me,” you say “even if you put bricks on my back, I’ll carry it.”
You felt her smile against your back as she holds back her laugh.
“You’re so corny.” She tells you “but that’s why I like you.”
“Do you really mean it?” You pause “do you mean everything you say?”
“I do, yn. Im just afraid but yet i was so happy when you said you liked me too, i wanted nothing but for you to feel the same.” She tells you “but i was just hesitant, i didnt want things to change, i had so much in my mind.”
“What if you fall out of love for me? And I’ll lose you both as a friend and as someone i love, its scary to evem think of it.”
You felt her fiddle with the hem of your shirt as she hugged you, like she always did when she was worried, so you held her hands intertwined with yours.
“Rin, you know, you’ll never lose me as a friend,” you gaze down at your hands interwinted at hers “you’re already a part of my life, and i dont want nothing else but for you to always be in my life, regardless of anything.”
You felt her hug loosen and then you felt something wet hit your back.
You finally got to look at her, and as you did—you saw her eyes glisten as tears were cascading down her cheeks.
And when she finally looked at your eyes, the answers were clear to her—maybe change was a good thing.
They say the more things change the more they stay the same.
Like the waves coming in on the beach, watch a fire. Watch the rain drops, river flowing, sunset, sunrise, everything's changing and nothing's changed.
The look you gave her was still the same, it was the same ones when they exactly met, it was adorning and shining.
She hugs you again startling you.
“Rin?” You laugh, feeling her arms wrap around you making you feel a little ticklish “are you okay?”
“Let’s stay like this for a while.”
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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: @wynnyfryd! Wynnyfryd has 34 fics in the Stranger Things fandom and all of them are in the Steddie tag!
i don’t know, you figure it out
Plot Holes
biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!
Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!
She's got some of the FUNNIEST writing in this fandom, and it's very snappy too like. She's an editing demon for sure, she can take a concept that I'd think would take paragraphs to explain and find the right words to make it hit just as hard with like, two sentences. I also really really love how descriptive her metaphors are, really visceral sometimes, and she's really good at writing realistic life events but still making them fun to read about even when it's about like, devastating shit. The sex she writes is also intense as hell! -- @griefabyss69
Below the cut, @wynnyfryd answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!
Why do you write Steddie?
I am but a humble bisexual — I see two beautiful brown-eyed men makin’ beautiful brown eyes at each other, I go a little insane for two years. It is what it is.
What’s your favorite trope to READ?
late-night moments of quiet hopeful hesitant intimacy over a shared joint or cigarette. Thin wisp of smoke between them, stars dancing in their eyes. Yeah. YEAHHHHHHH
What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?
This isn’t really a trope so much as a dynamic, but I love a good dipshit 4 dingus dialogue-heavy scene. Don’t get me wrong, I think Eddie and Steve can both be very smart and knowledgeable in their areas of interest/expertise, but these are two young dudes with no access to the internet. I love letting them be confidently incorrect dumbasses. Just ‘yes and’-ing each other’s stupidity while an exasperated third character begs for mercy.
What’s your favorite Steddie fic?
Well, this question is impossible and furthermore rude. This question came into my home and didn’t take its muddy boots off. This question never mailed me a thank you letter for my lovely wedding gift. That blender was expensive; the absolute nerve. No but seriously, I think The Lathe by palmviolet is going to stay with me forever.
Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?
I’m a big fan of doing canon divergence from different jumping off points — the beauty of having characters live in the same small town their whole lives is that you get so many great opportunities for these “what if our paths crossed sooner” moments.
I have some very loose notes for a S3 fic where Eddie is the movie theater employee who finds Steve and Robin in the bathroom after they escape the Russians, and I also have an old WIP set between S1 and S2 where lifeguard Steve rescues Eddie and then spends the summer teaching him how to swim. Would love to revisit those after I finish the trailer park AU (which I will be referring to as TPAU because my fingers are tired and because ‘toilet paper au’ makes me laugh.)
What is your writing process like?
Uhhhhh. 😂 I mean, for TPAU, basically just insert the scene from Dune 2 of Paul’s first sandworm ride: I’m shaking I’m sweating there is sand in my nostrils and I am surely about to die— oh wait, maybe I’ve actually got this? Am I actually doing it? Oh shit, look at me go!
For one-shots I like to use a more structured outline and bracket method. I start by dividing my doc into numbered scenes, with each scene getting a notes section and a prose section, like this:
This format gives me a lot of freedom to switch up the order of scenes and to move between scenes so I avoid writer’s block. I can also jump ahead to scenes I really want to write without making a mess of my outline. Once I have something written in the prose section of each scene, I go back and work on replacing each bracket with prose until there are no brackets left. Lastly, I create a new blank doc and copy the prose over in order so I can read the full fic and work on edits from there.
Do you have any writing quirks?
I have been known to abuse a semicolon. And an em dash. And a conjunction at the start of a sentence. Yes, I do have ADHD.
I’m also a lyricist, so I feel like my prose tends to stray into poetry territory pretty often.
Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?
When I’m finished! Which is probably why I tend to stick to one-shots; I get impatient and want to post stuff the second it’s ready.
Which fic are you most proud of?
‘i don’t know, you figure it out’ for SURE. I’ve never written a fic this long or stuck to a writing project this consistently in my life. Like ever. The last time I even came close was my first NaNoWriMo when I was 16, which was, uh… years ago, plural, and I’ll leave it at that. 😂
How did you get the idea for i don’t know, you figure it out?
“There’s a dead rat on his doorstep.” That’s it. That first sentence/scene popped into my head while I was bored at work, and then I started thinking, “hey, you know what? I don’t know that anyone’s ever done a fic where Max and Steve trade places for S4; that might be fun.”
And then NaNoWriMo was coming up, so I thought it would be cool to try live posting a fully improvised fic every day for a month to see how many words I could write. And then this tragic wet cat version of Steve Harrington grabbed me by the throat and took over my whole life.
When writing Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!, what was something you didn’t expect?
How SAPPY these two got!! My god, boys, I’m trying to write smut over here, stop having a beautiful existential crisis!
(I blame Briston Maroney for that though lol, I think I listened to ‘Body’ like 1400 times that month.)
What inspired Satanic Ritual: DO NOT WATCH!!?
@inklessletter posted this totally gorgeous art of Steve and Eddie recording themselves kissing, and I promptly lost my mind.
What was your favorite part to write from biting you biting you biting you- oh! kissing you!?
This exchange:
Steve: “What? I’m just asking!”
Robin: “You’re being embarrassing!”
Steve: “No, you’re just embarrassed. There’s a difference.”
Like it’s just so them lmao
How do/did you feel writing i don’t know, you figure it out?
You know when you set out on a long hike in the summer and three hours later your calves are screaming and you’re covered in sweat and your sunburn’s starting to itch and this one horse fly won’t fuck off and your cell phone doesn’t even get service out here so literally WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO YOURSELF, and then you climb that last hill and look out on the most beautiful landscape you’ve ever seen in your silly little life?
Basically that.
What was the most difficult part of writing Plot Holes?
Ooh, that one was fun! The only real difficulty was trying to keep it to a microfic because the concept could definitely be fleshed out to a full story — @griefabyss69 and I were joking around about “what if someone did ‘plot hole’ for the @steddiemicrofic prompt fill?” and then that fic just fell out of my head in about 15 minutes.
Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?
For sure! I’m currently super proud of the graveyard scene in the most recent update of TPAU — I don’t write true horror often, but I love horror so it was really fun to give it a try! Favorite line from any fic is probably this reference to ‘You’re Divine’ in my fic Monsoon Season because I love uncomfortably-aroused prude Eddie, and his internal monologue cracks me up every time I think about it:
Freddie Monsoon’s debut novel is called The Fourth Chime, and it is, as far as Eddie can tell, the first installment in a series of unapologetically filthy fuck fests about a man whose lover gets flung into an alternate dimension during an apocalyptic event and miraculously returns as some sort of… sexy bat-boy with a fucking horse dong and a bite kink. Critics are calling it “the most romantic novel of the last decade.”
It’s me; I’m Critics.
Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?
My main project right now is finishing TPAU if it kills me, but beyond that, I have a few one-shots for @subeddieweek in the works, including a collab with @griefabyss69 that I’m so so SO excited to share. It’s hot, it’s funny, I can’t wait for y’all to read it.
Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?
First of all, as @wormdebut would say: I think you’re pretty. Thank you so much for all your hard work! I love this blog, and I love answering questions <3
Secondly:
- Preheat your oven to 400 degrees.
- Toss cubed sweet potatoes and parsnips, sliced sweet onion, and fresh garlic in a mix of olive oil, salt, pepper, and rosemary, and then spread in a single layer on a foil-lined baking sheet.
- Bake for ~40-45 minutes. (Potatoes and parsnips should be soft without being mushy when you poke them with a fork.)
- Prep your sauce: I made a dijon drizzle situation by mixing olive oil mayo, a dash of dijon mustard, lemon juice, salt, pepper, garlic powder, and a splash of water, but you could also add a little dab of hot sauce, bbq sauce, or different mustards. Basically just grab like four condiments out of your fridge and play around with the flavors you like until you make a mix that’s thin enough to pour.
- Drizzle roasted veggies with sauce.
- Enjoy a very tasty side dish (or do what I did and eat the whole sheet as a meal like some sort of parsnip goblin because you were too lazy to make the main dish after chopping all those veggies)
okay thank you love you byeeeee
Thank you to our author, @wynnyfryd, and our nominator, @griefabyss69! See more of Wynnyfryd's works featured on our page throughout the day!
Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!
#writer's spotlight#steddie#steddie fic recs#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#stranger things#ao3 writer#steddie writers#writer's wednesday
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Angels, demons, language, and culture part 4: Literalism and metaphor
Part 1 (angels are never children, and that matters), Part 2 (written language is mostly coded human rather than ethereal/occult in Good Omens), Part 3 (human writings contain useful social rules, which is partly why Aziraphale values them)
It may be time to restate @thundercrackfic's original questions?
How good is Aziraphale’s reading comprehension? How much does he understand subtext and metaphor? Because his behavior this season struck me with the impression that he didn’t really understand the books he collects. He’s clever at puzzle solving, and contains vast knowledge; but he always seems to take things at face value (when he’s not willfully misunderstanding), and refuses to give up black-and-white thinking, which would make it very difficult to analyze texts.
I think there are definite reasons to believe that reading comprehension of human literature (as defined in the question) is difficult for Aziraphale. One of them, as stated in part 1, is that Aziraphale doesn't get the tremendous advantage of childhood and its brain plasticity, which (among other things) is known to help with learning language. I'm not surprised his French is pretty bad. Learning another language from the ground up as an adult can be a cast-iron PITA (yes, experience speaking).
Another is simply that Aziraphale is not human. He's an outsider to humanity. He's fairly empathetic, and he does learn (unlike almost all his fellow angels!), but that leaves him without much of a yardstick to gauge when human literature is being literal and when it's not. There also seems to be a general angelic tendency to believe what they're told? Muriel definitely has it, Michael seems to as well, and even s1!Gabriel can only (and barely) muster skepticism on one occasion that I recall (the photo incident). I can see this making Aziraphale's reading, especially early in his existence on Earth, a good bit harder for him than reading is for, say, me. I'm used to unreliable narrators and figurative language and other sorts of clever fun productive lying. Aziraphale's acquaintance with lying is -- well -- his lies don't usually involve much metaphor? I suppose one could argue that "big sharp cutty thing" is a kenning, but not really in the human way of kennings because he only uses it the once.
Moreover, it appears (based on the s1e3 cold open, mostly) that he bops around the world quite a bit until finally settling in London (with the occasional jaunt elsewhere when he gets peckish). Nothing at his creation other than the auto-polyglottism She bestows on Her angels seems to give him any tools for navigating the bewildering variety of human cultures and customs... and literary metaphor (along with lots of other literary things) is commonly culturally-bound, culturally-specific.
I mean, if you read something (maybe in high school (or analogue) or college) that was written A Long Time Ago and/or Very Far Away, didn't it probably have a ton of what lit-critters call "apparatus" in it? Explanatory introductions, bibliography, and above all footnotes/endnotes/margin notes, many of which explain figures of speech that otherwise wouldn't make sense? Not to mention stuff like (just as an example) which local then-current political morass Dante threw this particular historical person in this particular circle of Hell for. Stuff that if you're not there, not embedded in the culture and the time, you're just plain gonna whiff. Hell, even Shakespeare editions have a ton of apparatus, and Shakespeare's in Early Modern English for pity's sake!
(Which is not to say that something has to be ancient or not-from-here to benefit from some apparatus. What is The Annotated Pratchett File if not apparatus for Discworld?)
So our peripatetic angel reading literature of whatever time he's actually in (which mostly won't have apparatus he can rely on for help) will often find himself not clued-in enough to a given human culture to completely understand its literary figures, metaphors included. And sure, that's going to lead to some misreadings and misunderstandings and overliteral takes! I can't read Dante's Inferno and understand everything in it! It takes Italianists years, if not decades, to do that!
And to make the problem even more difficult, literature feeds on itself, and on other arts as well. (Hi hi hello, comparative literature major, I totally studied various flows of literary and artistic influence in college and wouldn't trade that major for anything ever, it was the best major.) Think about all the time and effort GO meta-ists have spent of late teasing out callbacks and allusions and references in GO s2. That kind of work is also part of what Aziraphale has to do to understand fully what he reads... and it's a lot of work, even for a reader as voracious and possibly sleepless as our angel.
So yeah, in sum, I don't think Aziraphale has a perfect -- or even good -- track record on understanding what he reads. I adore him because he reads anyway! He never gives up on trying to understand! That's absolutely praiseworthy! (Crowley has something of an analogue to this in his love for human inventions. He doesn't understand how anything actually works, for the most part, but he loves it all the same.)
I think there's also an outstanding question about what Aziraphale gains from reading, a sense of social rules (Part 3) aside? Well, it's known that reading (especially fiction, especially fiction about characters who are Not Like The Reader) increases empathy. I don't know if Aziraphale reads specifically for that reason, but I'm absolutely willing to believe that fiction works on him that way, just as it does on us, even if he doesn't fully understand everything he reads. Did you fully understand everything you read as a child? Or even as an adult? I would never claim that of myself. Yet I certainly will claim that I picked up a lot of what I suppose I will call my character -- it runs deeper than personality -- and my general understanding of life (insofar as I have one) from reading.
If I had to answer why Aziraphale reads, though? I'd think back to my own childhood, as a bullied child with somewhat neglectful parents who held outsized expectations of me. Reading for me was peace, was escape, was enjoyment, was something to think about that wasn't my own unhappiness, was -- now and then, honestly not often enough -- seeing myself reflected in a book and feeling less alone. I hope and believe that human literature and music served similar purposes for our poor angel.
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Awww I love author Anthony! When does Kate find out he carries that photo around? Can we get a snippet of that night it was taken?
Let’s see Kate’s point of view
She’s not even really sure how she ended up here. They’d been in the pub, surrounded by their friends with empty glasses strewn on the table around them and Anthony had scoffed.
“Oh, of course you think Frankenstein is trash. Of course you do!”
Kate raised her eyebrows while the rest of the table groaned.
“No! No, we’re having a nice night! Please don’t start arguing.”
Kate smiled and leaned across the table at Anthony, his stupid handsome face making something flutter in her chest. “Convince me, Bridgerton. Convince me that Victor Frankenstein isn’t a complete dickhead who got in over his head.”
“If you don’t understand the metaphor for the fact that we are eventually all brought down by our own hubris, then I can’t explain it to you, Sharma. You’re hopeless.”
“Sounds like you’re scared to convince me. Almost like you… know you can’t.”
His laughter was so beautiful. She hated how nice that sound was. Warm and happy. He ran his hair through his already messy hair. “Katie Kat I could convince you to do so many things.”
God, she wanted him to. She’d thought they’d never be friends the first time they met, and she definitely didn’t think she’d be where she is now, with her heart fluttering in her chest every time she saw him. And she didn’t think when he looked at her through his lashes, a lit cigarette in his hand, the smoke curling between him that she’d say yes so easily.
“I thought you were giving up smoking.”
Anthony sighed, looking wistfully at it, “I know, I know. You hate smokers. I just miss the smell when I’m a few pints deep. Makes me feel like a tortured artist.” He stamped it out on the side of the bin, tossing the cigarette in the ashtray unsmoked. “Are you heading somewhere?”
Kate raised her eyebrows, “Just… back to my dorm.”
Anthony nodded, stepping closer and putting his hands in his pockets, the scarf his mum had made him for Christmas wrapped around his neck. “Are you actually up for a friendly literary debate back at mine?”
“Yes. Obviously.”
Their breath had frosting in the air between them as they made their way back to his flat, laughing and giggling about one thing or another. And here they were now.
Kate had pulled off her boots and their coats were abandoned on the floor by the kitchen, empty bottles between them as they sat on the rug in front of the fire, the only light in the room. Anthony’s wire rimmed glasses slid down his nose as he shook his head.
“You are ridiculous!”
“I’m not ridiculous! Angus, Thongs, and full frontal Snogging is a fucking great book for its demographic! I still love that book!”
“I am… obsessed with this confidence.” Anthony grinned, “I’m obsessed with you.”
He doesn’t mean it like that. Kate sighed to herself, taking another long drag from her drink. He would make a move if he wanted to. He’s slept with a quarter of the girls on our course.
“Oh and what were you reading at 12? Were you composing a modern version of Beowulf?”
Anthony flushed, “There was some epic poetry involved, yes.”
Kate laughed, ruffling his hair, “You’re so stupid.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing!”
“If you’re so obsessed with me,” She snatched his brother’s Polaroid camera off the coffee table, “Take a picture so it’ll last longer.”
Anthony rolled his eyes at the challenge, “Well strike a pose for me then. Something worth capturing, please madam.”
She waited for the flash and the square of film to shoot out the bottom of the camera and their body’s swayed closer as she peered down at it. “Fuck, you better put that in your wallet, Bridgerton. A memento of this glorious night when we got along. When I looked pretty as hell”
Anthony rolled his eyes, “Come on, you’re always fucking beautiful. You know that.”
She could sense the shift in the air. She felt her breath caught in her chest and she was suddenly too aware of how close her body was to his and the heat of the fire radiating between them. She was too aware of how easy it would be for him to close the distance between them, tilt her chin up and claim her lips for himself.
“Do I know that?”
“You should.” His eyes flicked down to her lips and his teeth bit his own, seconds slipping by. “I’m… having a nice time with you.”
“Yeah me too.”
Anthony took a shuddering breath and leaned backwards, slapping his hands against his thighs before he stood, his feet slipping on the floor in his socks. “Another drink while you prepare you Wuthering heights is the worst arguments?”
“Yeah.” Kate cleared her throat, hoping the firelight would distract from her own embarrassment as she pushed it down, “And I know you hate it too so don’t pretend!”
“Maybe I just want to hear your arguments!”
“You’re such a glutton for punishment.”
“Remind me to never bloody let you read my manuscript.”
“No promises there.”
#you never called it what it was#kathony#anthony x kate#kate sharma#kate sheffield#anthony bridgerton#molly’s asks and answers
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Snaccident
The light clicked on, illuminating the kitchen in the dead of night.
The creature that still stood, brazenly, in the middle of the kitchen floor paused, freezing in place thanks to its deep rooted instincts to remain still enough to not be noticed. The fact that it still had stolen food halfway stuffed into its mouth did not go unnoticed by the ursidain that stood, still with her paw over the kitchen light switch, also still as a statue as the two creatures waited to see what the other would do.
The ursidain didn’t want to spook the smaller creature.
The human wasn’t thinking, its brain was attempting to figure out how to explain why she had been caught with her hand, metaphorically, in the cookie jar.
“What are you doing?” Asked Tihan blankly.
Charlotte swallowed the chunk of the sandwich that was only half chewed in a panicked attempt to reply.
Her resulting choking and coughing fit was arrested by the ursidain grabbing a bottle of water from the cool storage and passing it, opened, to the human. It was the middle of the night, she had woken to investigate the quiet, but persistent, noises coming from her kitchen. When she found her human ward eating, she had assumed it was sleepwalking, and had mentally prepared to deal with that, now she didn’t quite comprehend what the human was doing.
“I wanted a midnight snack.” Charlotte explained nonchalantly.
Tihan’s brain stalled. Like trying to speed away from a traffic light in the wrong gear.
She’d heard all those words before, but never in that order or in this context.
“What do you mean a ‘midnight snack’? It’s… nighttime…?” She confusedly asked, her face screwing up as she tried to fit the square peg of an idea into the round hole of her brain.
The human smiled, hopped up onto her kitchen booster… er… stool, Charlotte hated it when Tihan called it her booster to reach her higher kitchen counters. In front of her was an opened bread bag, a buttered knife and an open jar of fruit preservative.
“I woke up, couldn’t get back to sleep and had a snaccident.”
Again. It was like she’d unleashed a flashbang of words inside the ursidain’s skull.
The human was gesturing at the evidence of her sandwich making, picked up the second half of her sandwich and offered it to the dumbfounded ursidain. She gently plucked it from her hand and put the tiny human sized sandwich half in her mouth. It disappeared without ceremony.
“So you just… woke up to eat?”
“Yup. Sometimes I can’t get to sleep until I get something. I’ve had to join a gym in the past when I got insomnia for a time.” She explained idly as she wiped the loose crumbs into her hand and into the open bin to her side.
Within the ursidain’s brain, a synapse connected with another, in a manner that hadn't happened for several decades.
“You can… snack… at night…?”
“It’s not good for you, your metabolism is slowed so you’ll put on weight they say.” The woman laughed as she realised and pointed at her. “Don’t you folk like that though?”
The woman in front of her held a paw to her forehead as the implications washed over her.
How had she never thought about this before!?
She looked up at the human woman as she slowly chewed the other half of the sandwich whilst looking at the ursidain with a confused and concerned look. Tihan stepped closer to her, looking blankly between her and the still opened bread bag. The ursidain reached over, pulled two slices out, her claws dimpling the soft foodstuff as she plucked the knife up. Buttering both slices, she placed the two together, raised it to her mouth and ate it without issue, testing the concept whilst glancing at the clock.
“You okay?” The human asked.
“I never… It never occurred to me that I could eat in the middle of the night… It’s nighttime… you sleep… not eat…” She idly explained looking at the breadbag.
She reached to make another.
“Really? You’ve never got the munchies before?”
“Yes, but… you wait until morning?”
“Well.. this is your stuff, what stops you?”
“Nothing… nothing can stop me. Nothing at all…”
She had a grin on her face as she made another.
Charlotte left her to it and went to bed, she slowly drifted away, but never heard the ursidain leave the kitchen, all the human heard was the knife periodically being placed back down on the counter.
In the morning, the two of them returned to work. It was not lost to Charlotte that some of the kitchen cupboards had been left ajar and with a curious peek, confirmed the cupboards were now completely bare.
The human also noticed that she gained a shadow in the form of Tihan who, far beyond what was normal, followed her everywhere during the day, barely allowing the human out of her sight for more than a few moments.
But it wasn’t until the following month, that Charlotte realised that Tihan was subjected to being the centre of a rumour mill.
Over the last four weeks, Tihan had successfully and rather proudly put on several inches around her waist and had to reapply for clothing measuring. None of the other ursidian could work out when she had the time to put on so much weight in such a short amount of time. Charlotte herself had been cornered more than once to be asked what she specifically was doing to help the ursidain.
The human tried to explain that she wasn’t doing anything, but it was only when the offending ursidain realised that they were intimidating the human that they backed off. Charlotte had been honest; Tihan hadn’t been locking herself away in her free time, nor was she eating anything different during breakfast, lunch or dinner time beyond the ordinary.
And yet, to their perspective; she grew, much to the overwhelming envy of her peers.
When Charlotte asked one of her colleagues why it was such a concern, they corrected her; it wasn’t concern, it was envy. Thanks to her mass, Tihan would be considered extremely successful at a glance, she’d be first considered for upward mobility in her career on just appearance alone.
“But you’re all huge already!” The human exclaimed, looking up at the rotund space bear, all of them easily twice her height with either the jigging belly or strongman or rather ’bear’ muscles to match!
“Well it’s sweet of you to say so honey, but obviously I can get bigger if she can!”
The alien put her hands on her hips and looked determinedly over to Tihan, who was handling a particularly abrasive geckin.
“I mean.. All she’s been doing is having midnight snacks.” Charlotte explained idly as she looked over to her roommate. She wouldn’t be a bad manager if her new waist was going to help in that regard…
“..she’s what?” Asked the alien next to the human.
“Midnight snacks? You know? Munchies after dark?” Replied Charlotte, turning to look back and suddenly noticed the group’s expressions.
The ursidains genuinely looked as if she’d slapped them multiple times as she blinked down at the smaller human. One of the aliens bent over, reached out to grasp her shoulders before asking, very quietly.
“She’s eating… at night? After Dinner?”
“Well… yeah? Dinner… Supper… Midnight Snack? You guys really don’t think about eating after you go to bed?”
The giant ursidain blinked at her as unused gears between her ears began to turn. With a glance to Tihan, and back to her, the other ursidain gently released her and sounded distracted.
“It… never occurred to me…” She murmured before walking away.
In the following twenty four hours, across the station, the ursidains descended upon the various corner shops that usually simply provide basic foodstuffs to take home in the event one didn’t want to go to the station’s cafeteria and bought nearly every edible item that could be taken away.
Ursidains in the system soon began to visit the station to investigate why the bears on this particular station were becoming larger all at once…
#conservationverse#cuddleverse#hfy#haso#humans are space orcs#human#furry#human x furry#ursidain#bear
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Im so in love with the narrative use of sentimonsters in ml???? And how it serves as a metaphor for parents who are Wrong??
You have Félix, who’s the most direct case of “parent thinks that having a child is like a little trophy and checkmark on the list and doesn’t want the child to actually be a person or exist or cause inconvenience.” His father literally didn’t see him as a person and based on the fact that he literally broke Félix’s miraculous he seemed to see Félix as either disposable or unbreakable. There was no sense that he needed to be loved or protected.
But then you also have Adrien, who Gabriel *theoretically* loves. I think Gabriel actually thinks that he loves Adrien as a person. But he has this idea that he can make Adrien happy through obedience alone. He thinks he can just order Adrien to be content or to have the same priorities as him. He calls Adrien melodramatic a few times even and it’s like???
Gabriel *theoretically* wants Adrien to be happy but it doesn’t cross his mind that it’s going to take more than him yelling “hey Adrien i order you to be calm and content.” And ordering Adrien to love the career Gabriel Chooses and love the girl Gabriel Chooses for him and the hobbies that Gabriel Chooses for him. And when that doesn’t work he decides that Adrien is just Beyond His Help and will be better only with his mom there.
And it’s like???? Very fun nuance with this idea of,,, you cannot yell or force someone into being happy,,, it doesn’t matter if you have their best interest in mind,,, if you never listen to what they actually want or see them as a human person then you’ll still be the villian in their story
And THEN!!!!! You have Kagami who’s a completely different case even though she starts with the same circumstance. Because Kagami IS treated like a person and has a good amount of autonomy. It’s just all Conditional. She can do whatever she wants with her life as long as its also exactly what her mother wants. And her mother doesn’t always explain why. And the thing with that is!!! It DOES work for a while!!!! She does trust her mother and actually talk to her about things. And she will defend her mother to the ends of the earth.
But all it takes is that One argument where kagami says “hey . please stop making me date adrien. i dont want to . its hurting me” and tomoe TAKES HER RING instead of listening. And its like. Thats IT.
It doesnt matter if you spent years making a foundation of trust in a relationship because Eventually your kid is Going to grow up and theyre Going to disagree with you on Something Eventually. Kagami was so ready to listen to whatever her mother had to say but her mom didn’t elaborate on anything she just basically said “okay if you wont listen without question you dont get to have autonomy” and of COURSE kagami’s gonna be like. Okay. Bye then.
And i just think it’s soooo cool how there’s these different Layers of “parents forgetting that their child is a person and not a tool for your own personal gain” and that ml shows how it can manifest in so many different ways and it shows that it messes ,up trust and relationships and then it also shows that the kids are all okay once they have love and support and someone who treats them as a person with autonomy
and theres this theme of “it is not too much to ask that you be treated like a human person . no matter how broken or how much of a disappointment you think you are. you are still in the right for demanding to be seen as a person.” And i just. I really love my senti kids i love them soooo much
this show really said “it doesnt matter what sacrifices your parents made for you, youll never be an object that they own” and i just,,, yessssss
#ml spoilers#ml s5 spoilers#senti kagami#senti adrien#senti felix#kagami tsurugi#felix fathom#adrien agreste#ml meta
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how i think each of the albums would act in The Tortured Poets Department if it was a class
Debut: would set the books on fire because they had words that she didn’t understand (the guy she liked read her poetry once…now he reads it to other girls). She prefers music class or science (because there is fire)
Fearless: would fall in love with romance poetry, but would spend her lessons staring out the window daydreaming about prince charming coming to save her.
Speak Now: would very adamantly insist she writes everything herself and would refuse help. she would write some of the most heartbreaking poetry about her much older boyfriend and causing the chairman of the department to pull her aside to check she’s okay (she insists she is).
Red: sits at the back of the class and cries as she writes. she’s really into metaphors these days. don’t ask about her scarf. just don’t.
1989: would show up to class holding a latte and her phone never stops buzzing with instagram notifications (she’s kinda famous). all of her assignments have city skyline doodles along the bottom of them. she didn’t like poetry until the chairman explained that pop music IS a variation of poetry.
Reputation: doesn’t really show up to class. Sits in the back corner. She’s got a lot going on. But the Chairman learns a lot about her through her poetry, she shows a softer side that not many people get to see. She’d kill the Chairman if she made her read her poetry to the class.
Lover: submits every assignment on pink paper and writes solely in gel pen (they are scented). She’s just like REALLY REALLY REALLY in love and everyone knows. She writes a piece about accepting everyone during pride month and it wins an award. She only addresses her partner as Lover in her writing, and it makes the Chairman smile because it reminds her that love truly exists.
Folklore: the star pupil. all her assignments are somehow connected, its like she has her own world. She uses words the Chairman has to look up in the dictionary sometimes. The Chairman had to raise a cause for concern over a piece called Hoax but Folklore insists it definitely is 113% fictional.
Evermore: sits beside folklore. She only writes poetry in the forest, “because the spirits speak to her there”. The Chairman is slightly scared of her, but her assignments are great (even if they are a bit murdery sometimes)
Midnights: sleeps through class. she doesn’t sleep at night. always has red eyes, The Chairman doesn’t know if its from crying or from tiredness. all of her work is submitted on ripped paper, as though it was scribbled during a late night manic episode that happened the wrong side of 12. when asked about it Midnights just shrugs, but The Chairman loves her work, and submits it for multiple awards (she wins everything)
#idk what this is but welcome to my brain#i imagine TTPD as if its a department in a school and taylor is the chairman and always has coffee on her desk#the albums are all like little people#taylor swift albums as#swiftie#taylor swift#taylorswift#taylor#ts#taylor swift eras#taylornation#the eras tour#eras tour#taylurking#the albums as#ttpd#the tortured poets department
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new hms designs!! and headcanons!!!!!
long text list of headcanons for everyone down here :3c
-Heart-
-as stated in the picture, before the war he was still a little mentally unwell, but through the help of mind and soul he was able to cope a little bit better than he does during the war
-despite being emotional and “weak”, he is very opinionated with a strong sense of justice and will not hesitate to speak his mind
-has beef with darrell because he keeps fucking shedding in mind’s room and mind assumes its heart messing w him
-hoards things that are cool
-has a weird angel snake thing as a pet for emotional support
-Mind-
-the only emotions he can really identify are anger and guilt, still feels guilt for the events leading up to the juno incident (referencing this post) but he doesn’t understand why he feels this way since in his eyes he didn’t do anything wrong which causes him to be extremely frustrated with himself
-has a bracelet heart made him to match, but doesn’t wear it. he claimed it was a stupid sentiment but he hung it on his room’s wall (soul has one too)
-probably tried to police the amount of monsters soul drinks for his health but gave up because soul kept finding weird ways to get around his rules
-the mechanical hand is because in a fight with heart during one of the time loops, it escalated to the point where his entire forearm (is that the right word?? the part connecting to ur hand) was torn off and soul made him a prosthetic (i like to think of it as some nero dmc5 type shit)
-Soul-
-usually looks the most put together out of the three but probably the one who‘s not all there at all
-lack of sleep from monster addiction and stress from the war
-snarky as hell, whenever heart and mind are going at it occasionally he’ll make a comment and they both kinda just stare at him like 😦 because he usually doesn’t get involved
-just as emotionally exhausted as heart, if not more
-explains idioms and metaphors to mind who takes everything literally
#heart chonny jash#soul chonny jash#mind chonny jash#is it obvious i dont know what to do w soul’s design or…….#allisters yapping#allister can draw#chonny jash#chonnys charming chaos compendium#cccc#cccc soul#cccc mind#cccc heart#cj mind#cj soul#cj heart
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How do you begin the first chapter of a story you already have planned out?
Always with an action!!
I personally don't believe in telling people there are wrong ways to do a thing, but I will describe what I personally think is best for the opening scene of a new story/novel.
A really common pitfall, in my opinion, for any fictional narrative is getting caught up in exposition. It makes sense that we get the urge to do things this way, because it's how we tell stories to friends about things that have happened to us.
"Okay, so let me give you background so you know who is who or whatever..." or "Okay, so for context..." are how I start a lot of tea spilling sessions, and its great for colloquial storytelling, but not a great way to get readers engaged from the start.
Whenever I start a book, I think of it less as a historical account and more of myself as the writer arriving to the character's life at a specific point in time, and leaving it at a specific point in time. Because of this, I think the best way to start a story is in the middle of something in their day. Here are some of the first paragraphs from my vampire story:
I scraped another jagged line in the already-worn paint on the wall, marking another tick among the other tidy rows of carved lines in the wall. I relished the feeling of old paint and soft, decaying wood sliding beneath my too-long fingernail. It hurt, but at least I was feeling something.
The first thing they did to me when I arrived at The Tower was glamour my name away.
One moment I was a person, and the next I wasn’t. All I was left with was the milk-warm feeling of the glamour on me dissipating too quickly, leaving me cold and without a sense of self. I could remember everything about my life—everything that had led me to this horrific moment, but not the core of my being. Not the most basic of identifiers. Not my name.
And another from my Unseelie Court Meets Peaky Blinders WIP:
I pressed my back against the cold, damp brick outside the public house on Main and Besom. My heart raced so fast that I could feel the steady thump of it painfully in my neck. I didn’t know how far I’d run, but I knew I’d done it faster than I ever had before.
How many days late was I now? Five? No wonder Thomas had two others in tow.
I panted, my ribcage straining against my corset, even with it only loosely laced. I felt like I could hardly get a breath in at all. Closing my eyes and forcing myself to slow, I looked down the alleyway behind the pub. If I dodged down that way, I’d have to walk through some of the dodgier areas of The Strid, but it would be better than risking running into the Half-Blind Barber’s men.
I’d heard about Thomas’s proclivities from my friends in the Rose Garden, and I knew that he would relish the chance to carve me up like a roasted pheasant.
I like starting stories this way because 1) it's way more fun to write for me than to spend hours trying to come up with an engaging, yet exposition-y opening and b) I get to lead with character instead of trying to find some way to shoehorn them into the lore.
The thing that's really awesome about your reader? They usually read a lot and can fill in a lot of the blanks. I found when I was first writing I always panicked about the reader seeing my story EXACTLY how I saw it in my mind. But at the end of the day, that's not actually that important and over-explaining anything can actually ruin reader immersion.
I try to never write two thousand words of description where a well-placed metaphor or comparison will do. Let your reader's mind do the heavy lifting.
Could I describe a castle in thousands of words talking about the period of architecture and the way that the buttresses look? Yes. I can. You know what's faster and more entertaining to read?
"The castle has the austere elegance of a sacred temple, and was nearly as quiet as you would expect one to be, too."
You have an image in your mind, reading that, right? See, in my head, I see a mormon temple; not because I am mormon, but because I have been to a mormon temple and I find their structures beautiful but also incredibly, deeply haunting.
Someone else may think of the time they visited the Sistine Chapel. Or of the Wayfarer Chapel in Palos Verdes, because they had an aunt who got married there. Yet another person may thing of their local jewish temple. Another person may think of Wyrm's Crossing in Baldur's Gate. At the end of the day, it doesn't truly matter what they see in their heads or understand is going on based on the text--what matters is that they can glean what this place looks, sounds, and maybe even smells like because they have linked it to a place that they have ALREADY experienced IN REAL LIFE)
All of those tangents to say--I don't worry about backstory until I need it. I like to try to make the reader feel like they're getting to know the characters at the same time they're getting to know each other.
Sorry for this very long winded answer--thank you for asking me about writing! I LOVE talking about it (as you can tell rip)
#writing community#writers on tumblr#writing#writeblr#authors#my writing#bg3#romantasy#craft tips#writing craft#writing tips#writing help
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The quorra problem | Programs, isos and the real world
Disclaimer: This has nothing to do with Quorra as a character! It’s more of a story element critique if anything, please read and don’t jump on me for the title. Quorra is adorable and I enjoy legacy- even if it doesn’t look like it from how I keep tearing it apart.
It’s a damned if you do damned if you don’t situation. On one hand you can’t leave her inside the grid when Flynn decides to literally go nuclear but you can’t leave her in the real world either. They have to because they wanted Flynn’s self sacrificing ending or wrote themselves into a corner (this isn’t about reintegration but I will still complain) and this was there way out. But they didn’t consider the implications of it at all.
Cosmic horror-
I’ve made several posts about it and still want to write something with this idea but to a program— the real world wouldn’t be so miraculous like how we see theirs. The minute you’re outside you’re Imediately bombarded with sensory overload and just too much information to process. The grid, which is much more human in its design than the ENCOM system, is still infinitely more minimalist than our world. One of the best scenes is Clu and his team raiding the hideout and not knowing what a single thing is and freaking out, she seems too well adjusted for someone who’s spent a few hours max here— look I know it’s the end of a movie and they can’t do that whole arc, but I digress.
Also don’t get me started on the rumored Ares plot and how they totally forgot quorra is already a program(technically iso) in our world- also it’s not really a “tron” movie plot— where’s the allegory?! The metaphor?! The symbolism?!
Another thing is that…Sam can’t tell anyone about her. Maybe Alan but her mere existence in our world is brain shattering. Trying to explain a advanced humanoid being that’s not here to harm us and is totally cool guys almost never goes well. It also leaves people a LOT to grapple with…like everything we know being forever altered.
This whole situation should be terrifying from both perspectives, however I love the theory that the only reason she was able to get out into the real world at all was because of Flynn’s data stored in the beam. That’s a great thought that almost makes me like her being in the real world just from how much impact that is.
Infectious-
What happens now? She can’t be revealed to the world (yet) and to put her back in the remains of the grid would be cruel. Putting her in another system would be wildly irresponsible because- do we even know what ISOs do? Across all media its “they’re special” but absolutely squat on their actual function or what they’re capable of. We see they have some kind of digital dna that’s literally a miraculous occurrence but that’s about it. Did Flynn even know? Are they just there- existing but not effecting/having a real world computer impact? Or worse - what if clu was right and they did contribute to the crumbling state of the grid? (I think it was a combination of his own fear and scapegoating—I’m just tossing the idea out there).
Sam transferring her over to another system without knowing what she does or how she could effect it would be disastrous. Am I saying she’s dangerous or would have any intent to harm? No not at all that’s now who she is, but it’s sort of a “releasing a domestic cat into the woods a state over” you don’t do that.
Does she get a regular job now, does Sam hire her at ENCOM? She’d likely be some sort of computer smart…in that she come from one. Or does he like —- set her up at a McDonald’s? How’s she get energy does she get plugged in- being in the real world isn’t going to magically give her a stomach. Sam just takes her to a power grid and she causes SoCal to blackout lmao.
Open portal-
I’m aware most of this post is just me overthinking the implications of everything they didn’t intend us to think to hard about. It’s supposed to be “yippee they’re safe” and I’m worried about digital ecosystems and what the human brain can handle. I think my problem mainly strives from this trope where the character brings home their friend from the other world/ is the reverse situation and no one bats an eye at all. It’s because they want the characters to still be friends no matter how many rules it breaks or sense it makes. It happens most commonly in cartoons. (There’s at least 3 in recent memory)
I’m not saying I want quorra to have been caught in the blast but that there’s a way they could’ve kept communication without world breaking. Open portal situation where he goes back to visit, he chats with her on the screen, both stay in their own worlds its sad but logical etc (I’m not writing a new ending but you get the point).
I guess it annoys me so much because it’s left so open ended, ride off into the sunrise while ignoring the implications™️. “I guess, We’re going to change the world” ok how 🧍♂️. The movie did not nearly give me enough information about ISO’s to see what changes they exactly do besides taking over ENCOM. “They[Iso’s] changed everything” ok how🧍♂️. Yeah it’s immaculate conception but what do they do I am shaking your shoulders Disney what do they do!
It’s not quorra I’m mad about or even the concept of ISO’s but it’s how the writing just falls short in these HUGE areas that require a lot of lore and information to be given that they just do not. And consistently don’t In the other media forms like betrayal (I haven’t seen uprising maybe they explain something). If you’re going to have beings that shatter your ideas of reality you sort of have to explain that!
#my old man yells at cloud moment#quorra McDonald’s au when?#tron#tronblr#tron legacy#tron lore#quorra tron#Sam Flynn#quorra#isos#programs tron#incomplete world building#critique#otherworld trope
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who follows the rules anyway?
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9
complete
pairing : anthony lockwood x she/her reader
word count : 3.4k
notes : with this part the plot actually takes off, more will happen in part 3 obviously i'm just getting started ;)
The following day they met again at the client’s house to take care of the final details. They explained that the clock was the source and that they had to get rid of it for the haunting to cease. She simply needed to open the case and they would be on their way. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as easy as it should have been.
“This clock has been in my family for generations. I don’t care what you say, you are not taking this heirloom to be burned among other rubbish.” Mrs. Overton was very upset. She didn’t want to hear any advice given and categorically refused to open the case.
“I understand your disappointment Madam, but if you want your house to be safe again, I really don’t see any other solution.” Mrs Dufour explained.
The conversation had been lasting for hours. Well, metaphorically at least. It really had been 15 minutes, but hearing a client complain about the source wasn’t what y/n liked about her job.
“What if you got display cases made out of silver glass?”
All eyes turned to her.
“Maybe we could find a compromise, we keep your clock while you install new displays and put it back once everything is made safe. That way you can still enjoy your family’s history without the creeping fear. Would that be possible Mrs. Dufour?”
“I don’t think-”
“That is an excellent idea!” Mrs. Overton exclaimed.
“But Mrs. Overton I’m not sure it could be that simple. I really think you should consider giving up your clock.” Mrs. Dufour objected.
“I’d rather keep it. Hopefully you oversee young people with practical solutions! You should listen to them.”
Kipps and Bobby had smiles on their faces, but Mrs. Dufour glared in her direction.
They agreed on a date to bring back the clock, signed a few papers and soon after the team was on its way back to the Fittes headquarters.
“You did a great job keeping our client satisfied today y/n. I’m really impressed.” Kipps said.
“Th- Thank you. That means a lot.” She looked down at her feet, she felt incredibly intimidated. Somehow, she still wasn’t used to receiving that many compliments. She finally got those four words she had waited a month to hear. Her dream of taking on more responsibilities was getting closer, she could feel it.
“Miss y/n, could I have a word with you?”
Her happiness was cut short. Was she really in trouble because she tried to keep a client happy with their service?
“Your behavior today was extremely disrespectful. Contradicting a supervisor in front of a client is beyond unprofessional. What image of the Fittes organization does it send? I hope you won’t do this again.”
“I was just trying to keep Mrs. Overton satisfied. But I understand.” She tried to remain civil. But really she had a hard time not rolling her eyes.
“Good. Now I must leave, I have another appointment.”
“I can take the clock back to Fittes’ if you want. It’s where we’re headed anyway.”
“Thank you but it won’t be necessary.”
“Really it’s no trouble at all.”
“I’ll take care of it myself, no need to insist. Good day.”
What a nice and pleasant person. Clearly if she considered this insubordination, she must have had her hands full when she had to supervise George. As she thought about him, she noticed how insistent she was on bringing the clock back herself. Especially if she had another meeting before…
---
“You should break into her office too.”
“Haha very funny. Will you ever stop making fun of George? He really was worth knowing if you gave him a shot. You shouldn’t be so quick to dismiss him.” she told El.
“I’m not joking. If he’s such a great guy maybe, he was onto something. And her behavior with you was in fact very suspicious.”
“I think I might be reading into some things. I was tired, I’m probably not even remembering it right. Plus, it would serve me right if I got caught and ended up like George. How am I supposed to become a higher up in the Fittes organization with that on my record?”
“Yes, but you don’t see the bigger picture. If you expose her activities, you get all the praise and move up the ladder even faster.”
They couldn’t be serious. How could they even offer to do this? On the other hand, she was very curious to see what Mrs. Dufour could be hiding.
“There’s no way I’m doing this.”
“I wouldn’t let you do this alone! I’ve got your back. I would be on the lookout; you take five minutes inside her office and you come out without being seen. It’s no big deal. And if she is at a meeting right now chances are she won’t be back for hours. Now’s our chance!”
She considered their offer. How could she even think about doing this? But if she didn’t find anything, it would put to rest her suspicions. And if they did find something, it would benefit her in every way possible.
“Okay let’s go right now. But I’m only staying inside for two minutes, non-negotiable.”
“As you wish.”
They located the office easily. It was on the first floor, second office on the left after the elevators. It was lunch time, everything was quiet. y/n couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. Her mind dissociated from her body. It went totally blank and watched as her fingers methodically picked the lock to Mrs. Dufour’s office. El stayed outside to warn her if someone came nearby. She entered the room with determination, trying to remain calm. Her heart was beating atrociously fast. What was she doing? As she stared at the desk in front of her she realized she had no idea what she was looking for. A source from another case that hadn’t been burned maybe? She opened a first drawer, and a second, a third… Nothing. That was such a bad idea. She had to leave. Now. As she turned around the door slammed. Oh no. Was Mrs. Dufour back already? Would El be able to distract her long enough for her to exit discreetly?
“I heard her mumble something about sources being stolen and suspicious behaviors, I didn’t catch all of it but it sounded like nonsense.”
That was El’s voice. What were they doing? She heard steps coming her way. She needed to hide. As she stepped behind a coat hanger near the door, Mrs. Dufour entered the room.
“Miss y/n, I know you are in here. Come out. Right. Now.”
She was holding her breath. There was no escape. She took a step forward. El was standing next to Mrs. Dufour. But they didn’t look panicked. In fact, they were smiling.
“I can’t believe this is the second agent I find here illegally this week. Between your behavior this morning and your break-in, insubordination isn’t enough to describe your insolent attitude.”
No words came out of her mouth. The shock she felt froze her in place.
“You are of course fired, that goes without saying. You can collect your things, I want you gone by the end of the day.”
“I’ll walk her out.” El said, a proud look on their face.
This wasn’t happening. It was just another vivid dream that merged with reality. She was going to wake up in her bed, the sun slowly rising in her window, and none of this would have happened. This could not be the end of her career. Her dream could not be crumbling in front of her eyes in just an instant, to be replaced with a horrific nightmare instead. No this wasn’t real.
“I can’t believe you followed me that easily to be honest.”
She looked up at El, tears now starting to blur her vision. She could only frown.
“But I guess when you’re that naïve and gullible you can’t possibly be qualified to be a supervisor. People like you shouldn’t be put in charge at all to be honest. I’ll never understand why you of all people were selected to be on Kipps’ team. Well now I guess there’s a spot open.” They said with a wink.
She shoved her “friend” aside.
“You betrayed me to get my job?”
“I would say I was smart and did my job correctly, betray makes me sound like a villain.”
y/n had shared a room with El for the past 4 months, she had grown to like them. Of course they were close, they basically lived together. Trust was part of the deal. How could she ever sleep next to that person again? Oh. Right. She wouldn’t have to. As of now she didn’t have a job and didn’t have a place to live either. She would be kicked out of the Fittes housing. She needed to get out, to walk, to breathe. She felt the walls closing in on her, she couldn’t breathe.
She rushed back to her room, tears streaming down her face. She opened her suitcase and bags, filled them with her stuff without taking the time to fold anything. She had to get out of here fast, she couldn’t look El in the eyes. She didn’t want to see their face at all. How could they have pretended for so long, putting on phony smiles and cheering at her success when really they just planned on replacing her one way or another? What did she do to deserve their hate? Was she really the problem? Maybe El was right. Maybe she was too naïve to ever be successful. Maybe she had brought this on herself.
She put on her backpack, took her rapier and her suitcase and exited the room. As she closed the door, El was coming back.
“I see you can’t get out fast enough. Good for you. Enjoy the night watch!” They had an arrogant smirk across their face.
She dropped her luggage, took one step closer and punched her dear friend in the face. They brought their hand up to stop the bleeding and looked at her with pure hatred in their eyes.
“Enjoy the broken nose!”
----
That helped relieve some tension. But she still felt like shit. What was she going to do? She couldn’t just go back home. Her parents would be so disappointed. Not because of the career but because she got fired. And because of the reason why she got fired. She was so ashamed of herself. How could she do something so stupid?
She wandered the streets of London, luggage in hand, for hours, lost in thought and mostly beating herself up. Aside from her life falling apart it was a beautiful day. The leaves were starting to change color, the light was still warm and golden. A fresh breeze rustled her hair as she crossed the street. She had no idea where she was going. She didn’t know that part of London well. She had passed Mayfair at least 15 minutes ago and was now in a more residential part of the city. The white houses had lavender at their balconies and most of them had an iron gate in front of the stairs that led to their door. The neighborhood was quiet and everything was still except for two crows hopping around at the end of the street. She was staring into space when a sudden loud noise made her jump. It was a malfunctioning ghost lamp that had went off even though curfew wasn’t for another couple of hours. It made her look up and she saw a sign reading Portland Row. That sounded familiar. Where had she heard of that street before? Wasn’t George living nearby? What was the number he had told her… 45? No, 35. She could always pay him a visit. It’s not like she had any place to be.
She hesitated. He would probably laugh at her. Though the situation was ridiculous. At least she would make someone smile. And she would get a cup of tea before wandering some more for the whole night. She looked for the number 35 and saw the sign across the street. She stared at the house for a while. She felt nervous for some reason. She looked at herself in a car window. She looked like a mess. Her hair was tangled, her eyes swollen from crying so much. George would probably take pity on her. That was so embarrassing. But given how her day was going she didn’t really care anymore.
As she opened the iron gate, she noticed a wooden sign that read “A. J. Lockwood & Co. Investigators”. The name didn’t ring a bell. The sign looked brand new. She vaguely remembered George mentioning a friend he was working with, but it didn’t look like she had met them before.
She felt lost. She wanted to run away, her shame growing with every step she took towards the door. It was almost unbearable. Burying herself into the woods in the middle of nowhere sounded more appealing suddenly. She forced her hand to knock on the door. She waited a few seconds that felt like hours. After a minute she figured they might be out. She turned around, ready to leave. This was a terrible idea. It was getting rid of the last tiniest bit of dignity she still had. As she stepped back one step the door suddenly opened.
“Hello, welcome to Lockwood & Co. Do you have an appointment?”
She turned around, surprised by the voice behind her.
“H-Hi George…”
“y/n? I didn’t expect you to come by so soon.” He looked at her and realized she didn’t look as proper as she’s used to. “Are you okay?”
“Not really if I’m being honest. Could I come in?”
“Of course, yes please”
He showed her inside.
“I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“Don’t worry it’s a slow day, I was just cleaning the kitchen.”
The hallway felt welcoming and seemed traditional at first. But as she walked deeper into the house, she noticed the masks hanging on the walls, the rapiers in the umbrella stand, the ancient weaponry on the shelves. The atmosphere was homely but also unsettling. It wasn’t unpleasant or threatening though. She felt strangely at ease.
They settled in a living room with the same atmosphere as the hallway. He brought her some tea and doughnuts she felt really grateful for.
“So, do you wanna talk about what happened to you? You clearly look like you’ve had a rough day.”
“I got fired from Fittes.” She blurted out. There. She’d said it out loud. It was official. George opened round eyes and looked at her in total disbelief. As he was about to say something she added
“For the same reason you got fired.”
George stared at her. His eyes couldn’t get any wider. They looked at each other for several minutes. After what felt like an hour George burst out laughing. y/n quickly followed. She relieved all the tension and stress she had been accumulating today. They laughed, laughed and laughed until they were out of breath.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Unfortunately, I am.” She said wiping a tear. At least this one wasn’t from sadness or anger.
“But what? How?” He could barely articulate full sentences.
She told him the full story. How she hadn’t believed anything he had told her. How Mrs. Dufour’s behavior had been strange. How she got talked into breaking the rules. How she was betrayed. How stupid and gullible she felt. How guilty she felt. For once it was her turn to talk. George found himself on the other side and listened closely to the whole thing.
“You really go all out when you break the rules.”
This threw them into another fit of laughter. At this moment, they heard the front door close.
“Hey George, sounds like you’re having fun. Who’s your friend?”
She turned around to look at the guy who had just entered. Her smile dropped. Could this day get any worse? Standing in front of her was the most arrogant and pretentious guy she had ever had the displeasure of meeting.
He took a step forward, putting out his hand as he said
“I’m Anthony Lockwood, pleasure to meet you. You must be y/n, George told me you would be stopping by.”
She stared at him; her anger rekindled. She didn’t shake his hand and simply waited, remaining perfectly still. After a few seconds he casually took a seat in a sofa opposite the couch she was sitting on.
“You look familiar, have we met before?”
She couldn’t believe him. Of course he didn’t remember. If the doughnuts hadn’t been that good, she would have gotten up and left without looking back. But she was desperately hungry, and she wasn’t so eager to spend the night wandering the streets of London with no place to go.
“You might have seen me around near Fittes, but I don’t think we’ve met.” She answered politely. He looked at her with a strange intensity, his expression briefly unreadable before changing into a complaisant smile. “It’s nice to finally meet George’s colleague.” She concluded.
“Well, more like his employer technically.”
For heaven’s sake. She mustered all the self-control she had left to not roll her eyes. She forced a smile, but it looked cold and stiff. The room fell silent, but it was probably for the best.
“So how are things going over at Fittes?” Lockwood asked her. He was trying to start the conversation again but there was a certain disdain in his tone that she didn’t appreciate.
George shot her a glance before turning insistent eyes towards Lockwood. It was sweet how considerate he was trying to be.
“Not that great actually since I was fired a few hours ago.” She said in a nonchalant tone.
“Oh… I’m sorry to hear that.” He looked at his shoes, avoiding eye contact. “Having heard you laugh so much I expected a much happier context.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“No, I didn’t mean-” He stopped mid-sentence. He looked defeated and just drank his tea in silence.
George turned towards her.
“So what are you gonna do now?”
“I haven’t got the slightest idea…” She admitted. “Maybe wandering the streets of London tonight will inspire me.”
“You don’t have a place to stay?” George asked, a certain worry in his voice.
“All the trains were booked, so I couldn’t go back home.” She lied. She didn’t want to admit that she was scared to tell her family about her situation. “I could always find a hotel I guess.”
“Don’t bother, you can stay with us tonight. Right, Lockwood?”
“Um, sure. I have an extra room in the attic.”
Fantastic. That was just what she needed. To stay even longer in his company.
“I really don’t want to impose. I’m sure you’ll be better off without me.”
“Don’t be so dramatic, it’s just one night. It’s the least I can do after putting those ideas about Mrs. Dufour in your head. It’s all my fault really.”
“Why would you say that?” Lockwood asked, intrigued.
“I sort of got fired for the same reason he did.” She admitted. She couldn’t help the shy smile that appeared on her face. She genuinely wanted to laugh at herself.
Lockwood laughed at the situation too. He looked at her with a charming smile but she felt like he was laughing at her for being so naïve.
“Rule number one around George is to do the exact opposite of what he does.”
“I had my reasons for acting like this. I wasn’t blindly imitating him, she was being suspicious.” She said defensively.
“Maybe next time, or at least if there is a next time, don’t let George’s wild theories get to you.” He said with a wink. There was another face she wanted to punch.
She took a deep breath to keep her urges under control. Giving in to anger would only get her kicked out and then she would really be wandering the streets all night. She could always find another plan tomorrow but for now she needed to eat and to sleep soundly. The day had been exhausting.
#lockwood and co#lockwood and co fic#ukuwrites#anthony lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood x y/n#lockwood and co imagine#who follows the rules
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no terrafermians au continued. Kinda
Webby: I’ve never drawn on a public building before!
Lena: This old dump? Trust me, the amphitheater is more abandoned than public. I’m pretty much the only one who ever hangs here.
Webby: And me!
Lena: And you.
Webby: It's really cool though! Why don't people like it?
Lena: Mold, rot, the visual metaphor of abandonment and mortality embodied in a decaying framework of former glory. It's not for everyone. Gotta say though, good company makes a pretty big difference to the vibes of this place.
Webby: Hehe! Ooh, can you come do some more of that cool fire stuff around my sword horse?
Lena: Cool fire stuff coming right up, madam. I’ve only got a can of blue left though. That okay?
Webby: Sure! I’m down to just the green chalk too, anyway!
Lena: Making graffiti with chalk… you really stick to your own style, don’t you Pink.
Webby: I guess? … is that a good thing?
Lena: Duh. Being yourself is so radical.
Webby: Oh whew! That’s good! For a second I thought I was doing wrong the wrong way too!
Lena: ….. okay, spill. What’s up?
Webby: Nothing!
Lena: Uh huh. Your sword horse is frowning, Webby.
Webby: Oh.
Lena: And now you are too. Bottle cap for your thoughts?
Webby: Thanks. I guess… I guess I just feel bad about lying. To Granny. And to the guys.
Lena: Ah yes. The tweedle-three.
Webby: Aww, you're still angry at them for leaving me behind aren't you?
Lena: I reserve the right to be filled with spite.
Webby: You don't have to be, you know. They wanted to do a late night movie marathon and invited me- They’ve been really good about inviting me these days!- but I didn’t want to oversleep and miss out on meeting up with you, or make Granny suspicious by being tired in the morning. So I told them I didn’t feel like it…
Lena: But you did feel like it.
Webby: A little? I mean, I still wanted to see you more. They just looked so disappointed when I said no, and I couldn’t even explain why I wasn’t hanging out with them.
Lena: Dude. It won’t kill me not to see you every night. You can still hang with them.
Webby: I do! All the time!
Lena: So it's really just the lying thing that’s eating you up?
Webby: I think so. I thought keeping a secret would be fun, like a little adventure all of its own, but… I don’t know. It’s not, really. Or at least this one isn’t.
Lena: Well you could always-
Webby: I’m NOT going to stop sneaking out to see you, Lena! That would be the worst!
Lena: Cute, but for real. A few nights wouldn’t be-
Webby: THE WORST!
Lena: Okay okay. Heh. Guess we’ll have to find a way to get me back on Tea Time’s good side then.
Webby: How?
Lena: No idea. Maybe if I changed my name to Brittania.
Webby: Oh she’d hate that.
Lena: Yeah… Hey, wanna know a secret that’s actually kinda fun?
Webby: Yes please.
Lena: C’mon. This place has more to it than just old rocks and moldy props. Check this out.
Webby: GASP! A secret trap door!?
Lena: Pretty neat huh.
Webby: Where does it lead to? A hidden passageway through Duckburg? Buried treasure? The bones of the actors who mysteriously vanished on the night of the last performance?! OR A-
Webby: ….. bedroom?
Lena: Yeah, wrestling the mattress down here was a pain.
Webby: You decorated this?
Lena: With a blacklight. Took me forever to hook that up, had to ‘find’ enough extension lines so I could mooch off a nearby office building. Totally worth it though.
Webby: YOU HAVE A SECRET HIDE OUT, THAT’S SO COOL! Gosh, no wonder you spend so much time here!!
Lena: Ha ha yeah, right. Totally.
Webby: Oh and you’ve got plants! Do they have names? Isn't that one poisonous? Can I call her Vera? And a SKULL! And- oh oh are those the Featherweights!?
Lena: Yep.
Webby: IS THAT POSTER IN FRENCH???
Lena: You’ll never guess where I snagged it from.
Webby: FRANCE?
Lena: Wow, nice guess Pink. Paris, actually.
Webby: Is that where you got the skull too?
Lena: Nope, that’s from Italy.
Webby: YOU’VE BEEN TO ITALY! Did you see the colosseum? Does the sand still smell like blood? Did you climb Mount Vesuvius? Did you see the hollow imprints left in the ash of its previous victims? Is that where you got the skull from? Was there-
Lena: Shh, hold that thought.
Webby: Mmph?
Lena: Wait.
Webby: ...Um. It sounds like something’s knocking over your display of empty glass bottles.
Lena: Ugh.
Webby: Is that bad?
Lena: Your Granny’s got her ways of securing a perimeter, I’ve got mine. Keep it low, okay?
Webby: Okay-!
Lena: Let’s see what kind of idiots decided to take a stroll through the old haunted amphitheater.
Webby: Oooh, haunted? By what?
Lena: Me.
Webby: Oooohhh…
Lena: Oh great, of course it’s those idiots.
Webby: Who?
Lena: Beagle Boys.
Webby: Are they looking for-
Lena: Shh….
Webby: ?
Lena: ...
Lena: Alright, we're clear.
Webby: And a little amped up now too! Yay adrenaline!
Lena: Sorry about that. They never used to come around here.
Webby: You mean before you shoved a cake in Ma Beagle’s face to save me?
Lena: You know, that might be part of it. Talk about holding a grudge, am I right?
Webby: Heheh! Wait. How did they even know to look for you here?
Lena: I mean I did kinda trick them into taking me here, back when I got nabbed at the playground.
Webby: Oh!.... why?
Lena: My paper and pencils were here. “It’s all about presentation!” I told them “The spotlights! The dramatic flair! Don’t you want Ma Beagle to get the full satisfaction package?”
Lena: I said, while talking the Ugly Failures into letting me write a “Will” and some “Last Words” and toss it out to sea in a couple of bottles for me, just in case a certain butt-kicking and summersaulting genius happened to find 'em and rescue me.
Webby: Flatter.
Lena: Never. After that they gagged me. No idea why.
Webby: I love your cunning brain.
Lena: And here I thought you only liked me for my pretty face.
Webby: That too! Wait, was that sarcasm?
Lena: Was yours? Come on, time for you to be heading back. I’ll walk you.
Webby: You always walk me home.
Lena: If you ask me to jog this time I’m turning around right now.
Webby: Heh. Lena?
Lena: Yeah?
Webby: The Beagle Boys haven’t figured out where you actually live, right? They aren’t following you home?
Lena: I’m fine, Pink.
Webby: …That’s not a real answer.
Lena: Uh yeah, pretty sure it is.
Webby: Are you safe? Is your family safe?
Lena: I’m fine.
Webby: This doesn’t sound fine though. The Beagles are really, really good at holding grudges.
Lena: And bad at holding onto everything else, me included.
Webby: But you’re alone out here so much!
Lena: Which is fine.
Webby: If you need help, I can-
Lena: I said I’m fine, okay?
Webby: But you won’t actually say you’re safe!
Lena: So? Who cares!
Webby: Me! I care!
Lena: Oh so you go on crazy adventures for lunch, and what, you think I can’t survive living in Duckburg!?
Webby: No! I think you might be in danger now because of ME! I think Granny would know how to make this place safer if I could just tell her about it! I think I’m scared of something happening to my best friend, and it being my fault!
Lena: Nothing’s gonna happen-
Webby: The Beagles were RIGHT THERE.
Lena: -and even if it does-
Webby: SEE?
Lena: -I’m the one who brought you to the stupid Beagle birthday party in the first place. I’m not blaming you for something you didn’t even do!
Webby: Then let me help!
Lena: Webby… Look. I’ve been tweaking the tails of Ma Beagle and her boys for ages. I’ve flunked out of, like, half a dozen boarding schools without getting expelled for all the pranks and petty thefts I got up to- I’ve got top marks in messing with people and getting away with it.
Lena: When I say I’m fine, I really am fine. Okay? Trust me. I can handle myself out here.
Webby: …so the Beagles do know where you live.
Lena: I mean kinda? They don’t know they know though, if you know what I mean.
Webby: Can. Can I know where you live?
Lena: … it’s nothing special.
Webby: But then I could walk YOU home sometimes! We could meet up somewhere safer. You wouldn’t have to mess with so much… stuff.
Lena: You’re not gonna let this go, are you?
Webby: I will if it makes you really mad. But I’ll still worry about it.
Lena: Last thing I wanna do is worry you. Kinda goes against the whole ‘mysterious rebel’ image I’ve got going on.
Webby: No it doesn’t.
Lena: Whatever you say, Pink.
Webby: You walk me home because you worry about me too, don’t you.
Lena: No. You’re like, literally half ninja. The creepy shadows on street corners should be afraid of YOU, not the other way around.
Webby: You still walk with me though.
Lena: It’s called spending time with your friend. It’s a thing people do sometimes.
Webby: So is worrying about the people you care about lot. Like friends.
Lena: Mm. So is trusting them.
Webby: I thought telling your friends stuff was part of trusting them?
Lena: Whatever. Hey. We’re here. Moneybags McManor.
Webby: Oh, yeah. Yay.
Lena: You good for sneaking in? Need a distraction?
Webby: No, I’m okay. I’m... fine.
Lena: It’d really suck if Tea Time clocked you this late. I could lean on the bell while you go round back, or something.
Webby: I said I’m fine. You trust me, right?
Lena: … sure.
Webby: You, you have a good walk home, and… see you tomorrow night.
Lena: Looking forward to it.
Webby: ….
Lena: ...
Lena: …. Ugh okay. Listen.
Webby: YES!?
Lena: You- Wait, were you expecting this-? No, never mind.
Webby: Yeees?
Lena: You already… you already know where I live.
Webby: No I don’t?
Lena: Yes, Pink. You do. You meet me there every night. You named my stupid little potted plant and doodled on the wall of my living room.
Webby: But the only plants I’ve seen are the ones in your hideout, like Vera! And I’ve only drawn on the walls of the old theater!
Lena: Yeah.
Webby: … you. You live- there?
Lena: Just for the last couple of years. Not like I would’ve bothered decorating otherwise.
Webby: You live there? But, Lena-
Lena: It’s hidden and way safer than any house. You heard the dumb Beagle Boys walk right over the trap door, I’m literally right under their noses and they have no idea. It’s great. See? I told you, I’m fine.
Webby: It doesn’t even have heating! What’re you going to do when it gets cold?
Lena: Same thing I did last year.
Webby: Freeze!?
Lena: Blankets are a thing. So are 24-hour coffee shops and sneaking into theaters for late-night Mole Monster movie reruns. Chill.
Webby: Ha, chill. Right. I- I guess, I mean, I don’t know, but- Don’t you have family you can stay with?
Lena: I wouldn’t stay with my aunt even if she had a place here.
Webby: Why not?
Lena: It’s getting kinda late. Tell you tomorrow?
Webby: Or you could come in with me and tell me right now. Inside. Where it's warm.
Lena: Oh yeah, that would really just tickle your Granny’s biscuits. Finding the ‘bad influence’ sneaking into her granddaughter’s room in the dead of night? I can hear her posh, disproving scowl already. Shudder.
Webby: We could tell her about how you-
Lena: No. No, Webby, we are NOT telling her that.
Webby: But I’m sure she’d-
Lena: Think finding my aunt was the most responsible thing to do? Tell some official I've slipped my leash? Send me off to another boarding school so I turn into a ‘proper’ young lady?
Webby: Granny wouldn’t! I don’t think? Not without asking you first!
Lena: Sure, right. Because that’s what every other grown-up has been like so far.
Webby: I wouldn’t let her do any of that.
Lena: We’re both kids, Pink. No one really cares what we want. So like, go ahead and tell her all your secrets, tell her about sneaking off to go deface public property or whatever and get double grounded. Just leave my thing out of it.
Webby: ...
Lena: Webby.
Lena: I'm serious. Please don't.
Webby: … okay. I won’t say anything.
Lena: Good. Thanks.
Webby: I’ll just wait until you tell her yourself.
Lena: Not happening.
Webby: We’ll see. I can be VERY persistent! And I’ve never had a chance to mentally break someone before!
Lena: Wow I feel so special.
Webby: You are! See you tomorrow?
Lena: Sure. I’ll be the one squatting at the ruined old amphitheater, playing tick-tac-toe with the spiders and tying the Beagle Boy’s shoe laces together when they’re not looking.
Webby: And I’ll be the one who can’t wait to see you again! Good night, Lena.
Lena: ‘night Pink. Sleep tight.
Webby: Ha, I will! And don’t let the bed bugs bite!
Lena: Yeah….Man I wish they wouldn’t…. I’m joking, I’m joking! Geeze don’t look so heartbroken. Web- W-Webby! Hug too tight, can’t breathe!
Webby: Sorry!
Lena: Eh, I deserved it. But you’ve BEEN on my bed, Pink. We made an emergency pillow fort. You know the worst thing about the mattress is food stains and squeaky springs.
Webby: I’m still bringing you a heated blanket next time I come by! AND A MOP! WITH SOAP!
Lena: Do you even know how to use one?
Webby: We’ll find out!!!
Lena: Sure Pink. As thou wishest.
Webby: Heheh, yesss…your defenses against me are already crumbling…
Lena: Oh my duck just go to bed already.
Webby: Egads! And I have no defenses against you at all!
Lena: ‘night.
Webby: Goodnight, my angel of the abandoned opera house~
Lena: It’s a theater, not a… Wait… was that-
Webby: NOPENOTAREFERENCETOANYINGPHANTOMRELATED. SEEYOUTOMORROWBYE!
Lena: ......
Lena: … yeah. See you then, mam'selle Daaé.
-
Lena: Wakey-wakey, evil aunt lady. I'm home.
Magica: Oh goody. And look, the two of your drew adorable little artworks together. Not ones of the interior of Scroogie’s manor or his private rooms, but I’m SURE these stupid, insipid scrawlings of IDIOTIC goats will help us find the dime.
Lena: It’s a sw- it’s a unicorn, not a goat.
Magica: AND we’ve wasted another night teaching the shut-in freak-show how to fleece a vending machine!
Lena: Will you chill. She’d never seen one before.
Magica: Pathetic! Do you think you can buy your freedom with a stolen soda pop can? How exactly is THIS helping us with our plan!?
Lena: The plan is going great okay?
Magica: IS IT? OR ARE YOU JUST TOO BUSY PLAYING HOUSE WITH THAT ANNOYING, OVEBEARING, MORONIC LITTLE -
Lena: She’s gonna keep inviting me over! Especially now she knows about… this.
Magica: Ha! Your disgusting little hole in the ground, you mean.
Lena: Yeah yeah, that’s right, rub it in. But my ‘disgusting’ hole in the ground is the perfect reason for her to get me in the mansion as much as she can. And Colonel Crumpet not liking me is also the perfect excuse for me sneaking around while I’m there!
Magica: Hmmm.
Lena: It’ll work, okay? You’ll get the dime and your body back, I'll get the hell away from you.
Magica: YES. MUWAHAH! VENGANCE AT LAST! Then we’ll watch the heartbreak in the pink one’s eyes as she realizes her ‘best friend’ was nothing but a LIE!
Lena: Right. Can’t wait.
Magica: Ooooh, it’ll almost be worth all this just to see her fall to pieces. Do you think she’ll cry? I hope she SOBS!
Lena: I gotta get some sleep now, aunt Magica. Keep it down.
Magica: Oh ho. Have I touched a nerve?
Lena: You’re shouting in my ear.
Magica: Oh all right. Sweet dreams, Leeena~ Don’t let the love bugs bite.
Lena: I’m not- whatever. Just let me sleep.
Magica: If you can.
Lena: …
#Ducktales (2017)#weblena#webby vanderquack#lena#magica de spell#no terrafermians au#incorrect quotes#potential fic dialogue#never gonna be a fic might as well post it
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SLAWBO MANIFESTO
Have you considered Sabo/Law? Would You Like To? 👀
so. slawbo. which is the best possible ship name for Law x Sabo
it all started in 2018 when Ruth drew Sabo and was like “hey his hair looks messed up here bc I didn’t look at a reference and drew it from memory… what if it’s because somebody stole his conditioner?” (see below - and note the date!)
then it popped into her head, “what if it was Law who stole his conditioner?”
rebloggable here!
and thus, slawbo was founded B)
we took the idea and ran with it, and now it’s become its own thing
the more we thought about it, the more we were like, “this is actually a super funny and entertaining ship idea that would work well”
but also we have a pretty weird take on it so we made it into our own, basically.
because of its foundation on Law stealing Sabo’s conditioner (which remains an integral part of slawbo to this day), it’s pretty easily established that Law is The Annoying One and Sabo is The Annoyed One.
which is kind of opposite of how you would imagine their dynamic, if you know them as separate characters in canon – Law is generally ‘the straight man,’ especially around the Straw Hats, and Sabo seems like a mix between the responsible one (w/his brothers, sometimes, and as a Revolutionary) and the not-so-serious one – so therefore it would be the most interesting for their made-up dynamic if their typical canon attitudes were swapped
now over to Ruth for a POKEMON METAPHOR:
hey gang, Ruth here! as the resident Pokémon expert, I thought it might be fun to explain our slawbo dynamic using type effectiveness! per my illustration, Luffy’s personality is super-effective against Law, naturally (and unintentionally) irritating him. similarly, Law’s personality is super-effective against Sabo, who finds him super annoying (though Law exacerbates this on purpose, unlike Luffy towards Law). then, Luffy and Sabo don’t naturally annoy each other, because they’re brothers! when they annoy each other, it’s on purpose lol. hope this helped! alright, back to LJ
so in OUR slawbo dynamic, Law is the annoyer and Sabo is the annoyee. which is super fun!
it also allows for deeper exploration of their characters – what is it about Law that makes Sabo so reactionary? what is it about Sabo that makes Law want to press him for reactions? there’s a lot of potential in two characters having a dynamic with each other that they don’t have with anybody else
to be clear when we came up with slawbo, and this dynamic, we were NOT thinking deeply about it at all. we literally were just like “ok how funny would this be.”
so, to use an antiquated term: this is pretty much a crack ship
also, Ruth wanted me to mention that this is NOT something we do a lot. we aren’t really “crack shippers” and pretty much stick to canon/fanon (when applicable – we can be picky). we share a single brain cell so we usually have similar taste
so slawbo is special <3
back in 2018 when slawbo first came to be, I started writing what I now refer to as my “pilot slawbo fic.” it’s called “make me burn the candle right down” and it is based on the original slawbo dynamic we came up with at this time
now it’s a bit out of date characterization-wise (also writing-wise bc I wrote it over 5 years ago) but it still holds a special place in my heart, and in our slawbo canon
so then we have the series of fics I started writing in summer 2021. this is the “main verse” slawbo, the more polished version from the pilot version of 2018. the series is appropriately named slawboverse.
this verse chronicles them meeting and establishing a relationship. pretty straightforward.
it’s worth saying that this isn’t canon divergent or an AU – this takes place within the scope of canon, and we’re not changing any canon events (sorry Ace)
Ruth coined the term “canon enhancement”
there’s going to be a fic series written by both of us (mainly me, with a series of one-shots and a few supplementary fics by Ruth plus beta’ing), and art by Ruth posted to her art blog thirteenth-sword
currently slawbo can be divided into 3 major eras: pre-Marineford, post-Marineford/timeskip, and post-Dressrosa.
these mark major character moments for both Law and Sabo, and would thus shake up their relationship (like Sabo having amnesia at the beginning vs getting his memory back after Marineford, and Law planning his suicide mission to take down Doflamingo vs after Dressrosa when Law’s mission is over and he didn’t die)
so the series starts when Sabo is 18-19 and Law is 23-24 – pre-canon (and therefore pre-Marineford)
so Sabo is not as high up in the Revolutionary Army as he ends up being later, and Law is not as notorious and well-known as a pirate
this means Sabo has amnesia and an attitude problem, and Law has a plan for vengeance and also an attitude problem
more specifically, Law, when we meet him in Sabaody in canon, is a smirky, rude bastard. he’s not as serious, and doesn’t have that “straight man” quality that we see post-timeskip. we view this change in character as a combination of him being closer to the zenith of his suicide mission and being around a bunch of insane idiots who defy all logic (the Straw Hats).
put that together…BAM. magic. ultimate game of gay chicken
also we love and respect aroace relationships but these two fuck nasty. btw.
after Marineford, their dynamic definitely shifts. Sabo suddenly remembers his past, and also Law saved Luffy’s life, which adds a whole layer onto everything. and the fact that Law was THERE, and Sabo wasn’t… oof
a similar dynamic shift occurs after Dressrosa – Law basically planned to die taking Doflamingo down (not in an angsty way, just in a matter-of-fact sense – he essentially thinks he was supposed to die of Amber Lead when he was younger, but Corazon saved his life, so now he’s alive in order to avenge Corazon by killing Doflamingo – which is going to be so difficult that he’s just accounting for his inevitable demise to occur here. so when he survives, Law is like “oh damn this wasn’t really in the plan”)
so a big part of their pre-Dressrosa dynamic is based on Law being like “fuck it we ball, who cares if I mess with this guy and flirt with him and stuff, I’m probably gonna die in the next few years, yolo.” which is an attitude he doesn’t have towards a lot of other things bc he has to Keep It Together in order to fulfil his vengeance mission, but his relationship with Sabo doesn’t really have any overlap w/said vengeance mission, sooo…
bonus note: Rule Of Cool may not apply to The Slawboverse, but Rule Of Funny absolutely does. if something if funny, regardless of whether or not it might be inaccurate, we will include it (within reason, obviously)
some small details to establish!!
Sabo is taller than Law. fuck canon. imo Law’s growth was stunted a bit from the Amber Lead and Sabo is a beanpole
Sabo has more extensive scarring than in canon, all on his left side (see art for details)
Law has skeleton-patterned vitiligo BUT it’s on purpose lmao. I like to think that he had extensive depigmentation from Amber Lead even after it was cured, so he used his Devil Fruit to move the affected patches of skin around so he’d have a cool skull pattern, because he’s a dweeb
Law also has Raynaud’s and Celiac disease
Sabo has blue eyes (left one is slightly paler from the explosion damage) and Law has golden eyes like in manga canon
Law wears black nail polish always because. gestures to him. also he wears Converse, despite the brand not existing in the One Piece universe. doesn’t matter, he’s so Converse-coded that somehow the multiverse warped and found a way to get them to him
they are both Schrodiner’s Transgendered: are they trans?? perhaps. both have dicks and could have transitioned via Iva (Sabo) or Ope-Ope surgery shenanigans (Law). we’re leaving it open/ambiguous bc it's not really a focus of the series
Sabo defs went through a phase when he was a younger teen where he was hyper aware of his amnesia and would often jump to conclusions about strangers like, looking at him slightly longer than socially acceptable bc he’d be like “do they know me? Did they know me?” He’d be overly fixated on what his life was beforehand and do a lot of research on Dawn Island and would spend hours imagining what it would be like to meet somebody from his past. This stops rather abruptly – after a while he comes to the sudden and stark realization that every time he thinks “hey, this person might know me, which would fill some unnameable void inside of me because they could tell me who I am so I don’t have to figure it out for myself!” it never ends up being the case, so he quickly forces himself to stop thinking like this at all, which results in him slingshotting the other way for a while – where he refuses to even acknowledge his amnesia or the possibility that he might have people out there who knew him or cared about him before. So that is something we plan to explore in his relationship w Law!
another aspect of him kinda ignoring his amnesia would be that he feels like he’s exactly where he needs to be with the Revolutionaries – so even if he did have a life before his amnesia, it can’t be something better than where he is now.
so, that’s it for now! we want to leave some of the ~mystery~ intact to encourage interest in the fics/art, but always feel free to message either of us to chat about slawbo lol. and ENJOY!
#one piece#sabo#trafalgar law#sabolaw#slawbo#sabo one piece#law one piece#trafalgar d water law#opfanfic#opfanfiction#one piece fanfic#sabo/law
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i think it’s interesting to interpret the “gaster followers”/“goners” as like. gaster’s failed attempts at creating things within the universe. like he was trying to see if he could create new characters from whole cloth and insert them into the world but all he could really put together were these pale, palette-swapped facsimiles of existing characters. he can create bodies that look like monsters but he can’t create SOULs for them. he can’t give them Determination or Will. they can’t thrive, so they just end up as discarded assets. the vessel may have been the first one that had potential to succeed — he actually had a SOUL for it this time — but something else intervened. a specific character? The Narrative or the universe itself, enforcing an order that he tried to disrupt?
this is partly why i favor ROMhacking as a metaphor in particular to describe gaster’s powers in relation to the utdr universes. it doesn’t seem like he created the universes himself — the dog did. gaster is just trying to iterate on an architecture that already exists, one that was never supposed to be broken open and changed in this way. ROMs are fragile and have clearly defined and limited boundaries as to how much they can be changed without catastrophically destabilizing the program. toby fox couldn’t just put varik into the halloween hack. he had to overwrite ness to do it.
maybe gaster’s UI wrappings work because they’re technically on a layer above the universe. maybe ralsei works because he already existed in the universe — gaster simply affected his “programming” by giving him the Prophecies and molding him into a guide. and maybe the vessel didn’t work because it was something truly new in the fabric of the world. there isn’t room in the universe’s memory for that — something has to be overwritten or erased for it. he tried to create something without offering a sacrifice for it.
something something Originally A Darkner i dunno. who knows. there’s just something kind of weirdly sad and poignant about the idea that gaster simply can’t Create things, at least on his own. he wants to be able to create but it just isn’t an option for him. maybe he technically has the power but doesn’t have the Will. he doesn’t have the experience. he’s darkness without light, an AI trying to make art for Real People without the touch of a Real Person’s lived experience. it’s real to him but it isn’t real outside him. i don’t know how to explain this lol. castle town is a ‘pure’ fountain, possibly suggesting it was created without a Will to shape it — do objects and concepts have SOULs? does a darkner have Will? what happens when fantasy acquires the ability to create fantasies of its own?
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so i’ve been thinking about it for an additional five minutes and here’s what i’ve got and its kinda blowing my mind. Each person in buck’s life either had a Moment with him either in the coma dream or at his real life bedside, with a few noted exceptions. I’ll explain:
Chimney: coma dream, and MY GOD did they make good use of him here. As the guy who is always first to believe in The Crazy he was PERFECT to be the guy who’s like “yeah alright, one ticket to the crazy train.” I’m sorry but Buck proving that he knew him by knowing why he’s called Chimney had me lollling
Hen: Sceptic. And in the coma dream as the milder voice of reason. Funny, and good at keeping things moving. She and Chimney were also great to have in imaginary land since they are the ones who are the most stable without Buck in their lives, likely because of how much they stabilize each other
Maddie: In the coma dream and IRL, but coma!Maddie is essentially Maddie from season 2. Literally heart breaking. Speaking of, my heart is still not over the way she saw the firefighter at the door and simply said “which one”
Athena and May: Buck’s (let’s face it) step-mom and by association, step sister. They’re in real life because without Bobby there, they don’t ever have much to do with him. They understand clear as day that Buck is Bobby’s other son, and they accepted it ages ago, to the point they find it amusing every step Bobby takes to realize it himself. (Back to Bobby in a moment.)
Eddie and Christopher: They’re of course in IRL because without Buck intervening as he does they wouldn’t have a place in his life or in each other lives (pause so i can SCREEEEEEEEEAM about this) In real life, they’re begging him to come back--or more accurately, Chris is, while Eddie stands silently behind him, barely able to see Buck and crying his eyes out. I think when Eddie wasn’t initially fighting for Chris to see Buck all Hospitalled Up, as it were, is because Eddie didn’t think Chris could handle it. The real truth of the matter is Eddie couldn’t handle it. We saw it ourselves--Chris was shaken, but able to pull himself together enough to say his piece and beg Buck to come back into their lives (insert couch metaphor here, y’all make it fit). Eddie could barely look at the bed, and when he did, his eyes filled with tears and he couldn’t speak. Eddie in the coma dream exists, is mentioned, but he’s lost in his anger, doesn’t have his life-lines to reach out for, is missing the man who has his back, and because of that lost everything. These two men truly are unanchored without each other, and without their son (yeah I said it, sue me), are missing a key element that makes their family a family.
Now Bobby. Bobby is the most notable one who is both there irl and in Buck’s coma dream. The man who entered his second marriage with a son he didn’t fully realize he had, though now he’s definitely realized it. The man who is dead without Buck in his life. Who stayed alive because one pesky kid had the gall to work his pesky way under Bobby’s skin and stressed him out enough to look after him and care and not stop caring until he had a whole goddamn family in his hands, both with Athena and at the 118. I’m still struggling to fully feel all the feels here and btw I think we need to take a moment to give MAD PROPS to Peter Krause for his turn as dead addict Bobby because he was fantastic.
It’s interesting, because for some reason in my head, I expected Buck’s coma dream to actually be really pleasant and happy and the lesson he learns is that life is hard but you gotta do it anyway and you’ll be rewarded for hard work. The coma dream was very different--twisted and, for all that Buck was in it, it was missing him like an open wound. I didn’t realize it right away, but Coma Buck is the Buck that’s born for parts, the Evan Buckley that Buck sees himself as in his own head.
It’s the Buck that can’t help but reach out to help, that desperately tries over and over again to be the support that he himself is desperate for, that has irrevocably changed lives, with his worn heart out on his sleeve, collecting people that care about it without him really realizing, and in return making them care more about themselves, that makes Buck truly who he is, and makes his actual reality what it is. And that’s goddamn beautiful.
Please add your thoughts to this, my brain is still expanding
@loveyourownsmiilee @blutterlie @matan4il
#buddie#eddie diaz#oliver stark#eddie x buck#buck x eddie#otp: you two have an adorable son#otp: you can have my back#otp: i thought you just dress alike#9-1-1#911 spoilers#911 season 6
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