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#i don't really have much of a plot here in terms of what happens when the humans arrive
darlingofdots · 1 day
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What is a romance novel, really?
So far, the response to this post has mostly shown me that a lot of people don't actually know what a romance novel is, and that's okay! I don't expect everyone to know! However, for my own peace of mind, I am going to do my best to explain what we mean when we talk about romance novels, where the genre comes from, and why you should not dismiss the pastel cartoon covers that are taking over the display tables at your nearest chain bookshop. Two disclaimers up front: I've been reading romance novels since I was a teenager, and have dedicated the majority of my academic career to them. I'm currently working on my PhD and have presented/published several papers about the genre; I know what I'm talking about! Secondly, all genres are fake. They're made up. But we use these terms and definitions in order to describe what we see and that's a very important part of science, including literary studies!
The most widely used definition of "romance novel" to this day is from Pamela Regis' 2003 A Natural History of the Romance Novel, in which she states that "A romance novel is a work of prose fiction that tells the story of the courtship and betrothal of one or more [protagonists]."* People also refer to the Romance Writers of America's "a central love story and an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending" and another term you will see a lot is "Happily Ever After/Happy For Now," which posits that the protagonists must be in a committed and happy relationship at the end of the novel in order to count as a romance novel. That's it. That's what a romance novel is.
Of course it's a bit more complex than that; Regis also posited the Eight Essential Elements which describe the progression of the love plot over the course of the book, and there's a similar breakdown from Gwen Hayes in Romancing the Beat that is intended more as writing advice, but both of these are really useful for breaking down how this narrative structure works. My personal favourite part of the Eight Elements is that the romance opens with a definition of the society in which the protagonists exist, which is flawed in a way that oppresses them, and then the protagonists either overcome or fix it in a way that enables them to achieve their HEA. A lot of social commentary can happen this way!
It can also be a bit difficult to pin down what exactly counts as a "central love story" because who decides? A lot of stories have romance arcs in them, including dudebro action movies and noir mystery novels, but you would never argue that the romance is the central plot. A lot of romance novels have external plots like solving a mystery or saving the bakery. A useful question to ask in this case is whether the external plot exists for its own sake or to facilitate the romance: when Lydia runs off with Wickham in Pride & Prejudice, it's so that Lizzie can find out how much Darcy contributed to saving her family from scandal and realise her own feelings for him. The alien abduction in Ice Planet Barbarians happens specifically so the abducted human women can meet and fall in love with the hunky aliens. There are definitely grey areas here! Romance scholars argue about this all the time!
I have a suspicion that a lot of people who responded to the post I linked above are not actually romance readers, which is fine, but it really shows the lack of understanding of what a romance novel is. I have a secondary suspicion that the way we have been talking about books has contributed to this miscategorisation in a lot of people's minds, because especially with queer books we will often specifically point out that this fantasy book is f/f! This dystopian novel has a gay love story! This puts an emphasis on the romance elements that are present in a book when a lot of the time, the romance arc is just flavouring for the adventure/uprising/heist and we are pointing it out only because its queerness makes it stand out against other non-queer titles. It makes sense why we do this, but there is SUCH a difference between "a sci-fi book with an f/f romance arc" and "an f/f sci-fi romance." I could talk for hours about how the romance genre has evolved alongside and often in the same way as fanfiction and how there are codes and tropes that come up again and again that are immediately recognisable to romance readers, even down to phrases and cover design, and how romance is an incredibly versatile and diverse genre that functions in a very specific way because of that evolutionary process. The same way that dedicated fantasy readers can trace the genealogy of a given text's influences ("this writer definitely plays a lot of DnD which has its roots in the popularity of Tolkien, but they're deliberately subverting these tropes to critique the gender essentialism"), romance readers are often very aware of the building blocks and components of their books. These building blocks (that's what tropes are, lego pieces you put together to create a story!) often show up in other genres as well, especially as part of romantic arcs, but that doesn't make every book that features Only One Bed a romance novel, you know?
Romance is an incredibly versatile and diverse genre and I really highly recommend exploring it for yourself if you haven't. I personally read mostly Regency/Victorian historicals and I've been branching out into specifically f/f contemporaries, and there are so many authors who are using the romance framework to tell beautiful, hard-hitting stories about love and family while grappling with issues of discrimination, disability, mental health, capitalism, you name it. The genre has a very specific image in a lot of people's minds which makes them resistant to it and it's not entirely unjustified, but there is so much more to it than Bridgerton and repackaged Star Wars fanfiction!**
*the original text said "heroines" but Regis later revised this. There is a very good reason for the focus on the heroine in the first couple waves of romance scholarship, but that's a different post!
**neither of these are a bad thing and part of that genealogy that I mentioned earlier.
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mercy-burning · 17 days
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A Kindness You Can't Afford
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary: Something that started out as 'stress relief between co-workers' is now a little concerning to you, but for some reason you can't help but keep letting Spencer walk through your door... Rating: Mature (18+) Content: Strong language, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, blink-and-you'll-miss-it choking, squirting (As always, let me know if I missed anything!) Word Count: 2.7k
MASTERLIST
NOTE: @imagining-in-the-margins sent me lyrics to Hozier's It Will Come Back to entice me to write something for her monthly challenge (which is themed Friends With Benefits), and then this happened. You can thank her for this. And also Emily Henry, because I read Happy Place and Beach Read back to back recently, and DAMN IT if I wasn't itching to do some romance-writing of my own. Sure, this one is less romance and more porn without plot, but I digress. The inspiration is there and that's all that matters. Plus I've started working on something else that probably won't see the light of day for a long while, but it's nice to feel the motivation. I'm starting to feel like myself again :) I don't know how long this creative sparkling cloud of dust is going to last, but I'm grateful to be living in it, if at least for a little while. It feels good to be there again <3
Enjoy!!
*******
There's a small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. A chill permeates your nervous system and sends you off on shaky limbs until you reach it, and as your palm comes in contact with the cool metal of the doorknob, you're disappointed to discover that the contrast does nothing to comfort the hot and clammy skin. Unless the person behind the door turns out not to be who you think, you will not know that comfort.
You open the door anyway, already used to this feeling of unease. It's a feeling you've come to tolerate, and sometimes even crave in desperate moments. Tonight has not seen one of those moments, but you suppose that doesn't really matter because you've already agreed to his terms, and unless you call it off, you're stuck. You've seriously considered doing it a few times, but something deep inside tells you he might not like it very much, and you're unsure of how he'll react.
It isn't a risk you're willing to take.
And so, you meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm. He looks a little sleep deprived, but it's nothing new. Your work is exhausting. It was a major deciding factor and is the driving force behind your agreement in the first place. A way to relieve stress. Somewhere along the way, it seemed to have turned into something darker, though in retrospect that darkness has always been there. You often think back to the first time you initiated intimacy— how excited you were that he seemed willing to take you up on the offer... How your head swam through glittering mist and your heart beat quickly at his words.
"God, Y/N, I need you to be sure... Because once we go there, once you let me in... Even after I leave, I'm always going to be there... You're going to feel me everywhere you go, and that's a promise..."
In the moment it even sounded romantic, and in some twisted way, it might still be. But you don't want to let your brain misconstrue this whole situation. You've promptly decided to take it for what it is and accept the fact that he has some deep desires he needs to expel, and you're just a convenient companion for the journey.
"Spencer, you're here late..."
He exhales through his nose. "No later than usual."
"Right... Come on in." You widen the door and confidently step aside like you wouldn't know any different.
Rather than let you close the door, he'd taken your words as an invitation to make himself at home, pushing it shut with his foot and jolting you forward with it, subsequently pulling you towards him. His hands are quick to guide your face to his own, and without a second more in passing, the night has officially begun.
Electricity is immediate, sizzling through your core at Spencer's drive. It's true that when you're alone, it's difficult not to overthink the situation and rope the emotional and logical side of it to the forefront of your mind. But being with him like this dissipates the thinking entirely. All you know is that it feels so good, and it's absolutely worth all the turmoil you put your brain through.
It's worth it when his tongue possesses your own and coaxes the most sinful, desperate noises from the depths of your chest, and when your delicate fingers find purchase in his hair. It's worth it when your back is up against the door with his knee wedged between your thighs. It's worth it when his hand glides down your jaw until each finger curls around your neck, not choking you but simply resting there like a necklace would. He squeezes gently for a second each time you twitch your hips, desperate to feel friction, and you whimper.
You've come to learn that the more noises you make, the more he rewards you with... well, more. So it doesn't take very long for him to decide that enough is enough, and he pulls away from you to turn you around. You brace your arms on the door and lean your head to the left so he can work.
Warm lips attach to your neck as nimble fingers snake around your front and dip below the band of your lounge shorts and underwear. Your insides hum to life, and your legs naturally spread apart a little further, making Spencer laugh against your skin. You half expect him to tease you, but the surprise leaves your body in the form of a rather whorish Oh! when he spreads you apart and glides his fingers through your warm cunt. He explores you thoroughly, circling and spreading and plunging his fingers inside you, until eventually he continues a slow and steady pace running up and down your clit. You can feel it in his breath, in the way it stutters over your neck— He's about to give you your first orgasm of the night. If his skilled hands wouldn't do it (which you know they will), his words definitely would.
"Mmmm, I love how warm you are, Y/N," he slurs into your neck. Then he lightly nips at your shoulder and quickens the pace and pressure on your clit. "And how fucking messy you get for me..."
You know what he wants, but even if you hadn't, it still would have happened. The first time he made you squirt, he'd been determined to do it again. And again. In every different way possible. Over the course of your stress-relief-escapades you've come to learn that this particular way (with his hand down your loose-fitting shorts) is his favorite. He never strives to do it anymore unless you're wearing a pair. Perhaps it's the sounds, or the feeling of your damp clothes and the desperate need to peel them away in favor of something more solid, but it's become your favorite way, too.
Your nails scratch at the door as you pant and sigh your way through an intense building orgasm, and Spencer leans forward with you, using his free hand to assist in holding you up as he furiously works at your clit with the other. His chin rests on your shoulder as he huffs out, "Go on, baby, let it out..."
He knows you're close, and those final encouraging words seem to snap the coil tightening inside you. Your thighs tense for just a second before you feel every wave of pleasure crashing into every limb. And then, you're able to relax and ride it out, letting him hold you up and pull the orgasm out of you like magic. It's wet, it's warm, and it's fucking sensational...
You can practically see the wild look in Spencer's eyes even if you couldn't actually see him at all. His presence is always, as promised, so inherently there, that even now it's a vivid image. His pupils are an empty abyss, and if you look too closely you're sure to fall in. Hell, you're not even positive that you haven't already fallen in, because the thought of calling it all off when it feels this good seems, simply put, wrong. Why would you ever want to deprive yourself of this feeling? His possessive, damn-near monstrous way of loving you as concerning as it is, had taken you to the highest places you'd ever known. Even if it isn't 'love' on paper, you certainly love it anyway. And he must love it, too, otherwise he wouldn't keep coming back.
He only comes back because you let him in in the first place, the rational part of your brain tries to reason, though it can't quite break through the fog of lust. At this point, it's so thick that you aren't sure it's ever going to clear.
Not that, right now, you'd mind...
Once your breathing slows and your legs gather the strength to pivot, Spencer removes his hand from your shorts and gently guides you to turn around. His lips are on yours immediately, and he's tugging at your shorts and underwear to pull them down. They drop to the ground and without a second to spare, he tugs you along through your living room and over to the couch. It's practically a straight shot to the bedroom from here, but apparently time is not a luxury he can afford this evening, because you barely have time to anticipate what his next move might be before he makes it.
Mouths still attached, the two of you nearly fall on the couch, and Spencer's weight covers you like a blanket. His hips pin yours down and his arms have taken to pinning your own above your head. He nips at your bottom lip and pulls away for a moment, but you chase him, trying to lean up and keep kissing him and whimpering when you can't.
A low laugh exhales from his chest. "And I thought I was the needy one in this relationship..."
He shifts then, getting up and kneeling between your bare legs to start undoing his pants. Meanwhile you lift your shirt over your head, grateful you'd already ditched the bra earlier in the afternoon. Less time to waste.
Seeing you completely bare from head to toe and ready for him seems to amplify that animalistic quality in Spencer that's so unlike the aura of the boy you met years and years ago. Whether he had that quality before he'd met you is unknown, but it's hard to imagine. You like to think that you and you alone have single-handedly created this primal sexual being simply by expressing interest in what youcould offer him amongst the joint understanding of the daily hardships that leech onto a BAU agent. Regardless of the truth, the sheer sense of power it fills you with... In every deep stroke of his cock, in every mark left behind, and in every praise sung, there is this irreplaceable strength that you cling to long after he's gone.
No hard truth would ever take that feeling away, and so you can't help the grin that manifests at his urgency. You can tell he wants nothing more than to sink into you immediately; he visibly struggles for a moment before opting to fully slide his pants and underwear off together until they're tossed over somewhere into the abyss. You half-expect him to whip his shirt off to join them, but instead he lunges forward and covers you again, muffling your whimpers with his mouth as one hand guides himself into your slick cunt.
You can feel the rumble in his chest the moment he's all the way in and you clench around him. He rests his forehead to yours and kisses you deeply before asking, "You ready for me, Y/N?"
The low echoing tone in his voice seems to answer in the momentary silence that follows.
You better be... 
It sends a chill down to the marrow of your bones.
You barely whisper out, "Yes," and before the last letter leaves your mouth, Spencer has pulled back and snapped his hips forward, starting a slow and brutal pace inside you. Your legs spread wide naturally, giving him all the room in the world to position himself to handle you however he wants. He opts for holding your breasts in his palms, holding himself steady and pinning you down firmly to the couch cushions.
It doesn't take long for your eyes to start their descent to the back of your head, until they flutter shut and you're seeing stars behind closed lids. His pace quickens, still hard and determined, and yet you know he has more in him. Part of you itches to whine and beg for him to go farther, to push him to his limits and make him fuck you until you're nearly unconscious and delirious. And truthfully, that's still a high possibility, but you also wouldn't mind staying like this forever.
Then, one of his hands shifts and glides up to your neck again. You open your eyes and find Spencer staring down at your body with hair falling down in front of his face and sweat forming on his brow. His mouth hangs open and then grins when he catches you staring, the sight making you sigh out and grip the bottom hem of his shirt with your fingers for any kind of stability.
You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm, and by the way his face is slightly scrunching you can tell that he's not far behind you.
Just the flash-forward thought of him filling you up sends a jolt through your body, and before you know it, your legs are tensing again, and you're yelling out his name in broken syllables as a flood of warmth spreads through your body. For a split second you wonder if you've both come undone at the same time, but this feeling is different and more intense. Familiar.
The sounds filling the room only confirms your conclusion, and then Spencer's words as he pauses and feels you twitching around him.
"Twice in one night, huh?"
You force yourself to look at him, to see the unhinged pride pooling in his eyes as you finish and wait for him to follow suit. It both empowers and frightens you at the same time, an odd combination of feelings that you're sure to have a crisis about in the morning. But for now, you can't help but lean back and watch the ceiling as Spencer grips your hips and starts fucking you relentlessly into the couch.
Finally, he pauses at the hilt inside you and holds himself there, stuttering out expletives and coming. He pulls back and then forwards a couple times, gently rocking himself through it, and then his grip on your body loosens and you're able to pull him down to you.
You wrap your legs around him to keep him still, unwilling to let go of this feeling quite yet. It's there— that strength that he gives you, whether he knows it's there or not.
And in about an hour after you wash up and go to bed, he will be gone, and that strength will slowly fizzle out overnight, and like clockwork, you'll long to feel it again some time after the concern runs its course— After you replay the night in your head, over and over, analyzing every look and every touch and every reaction. After you frighten yourself into believing that he must be in tune with some level of evil to use you for rough sex and then leave you alone during the day and act like it never happened, even though it's literally what you agreed to.
The back and forth will only make living harder, and so you'll push it all away and focus on work. Until Spencer eventually brushes your arm with the back of his hand as he passes you, or hands you a cup of coffee with a kind smile, and then you'll come right back to wondering how such a gentle soul could hold such intensity. It will unnerve you until you tell yourself that it's just the complexities of the human condition and that every soul contains multitudes. You see it every day. It's not uncommon. It's completely normal.
The thought will calm you enough to get you through the rest of the afternoon, and when you get home, you'll settle in for the night without a second thought. You'll make dinner, watch a show, read a book, endlessly scroll online, or talk to Penelope about whatever show she's watching... You'll keep yourself busy.
And then the sun will set. Your house will grow quiet. You'll start to feel it: the small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. You'll meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm.
So, yes. For now, you will hold onto him a little longer and bask in the afterglow of this exercise in 'stress relief'. Because even if it doesn't mean anything greater, and whether there's even anything within Spencer's motivations to decode in the first place... This moment in time, each time, is the most relieved you ever feel.
Your fingers flex gently over his shoulders, and through the soft, even exhaling of his breath across your cheek, you know for certain he feels the same.
*******
PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out): 
@starrylang @xoxospencerreid @lovejules888 @awesomebooklover17 @yourmisosoup @gubswh0re @venomsvl @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @umbreonwolfy @hotchandspencearedilfs @spencerreidsmommy @abby2661 @youabitchhhh @reidsbabe @shemarmooresfedora @donald4spiderman @moonlight-2-6 @chaoticcatie @flipperpenguins @muffin-cup @centiaaa @foreveryoungxx3 @happymangospot @matthew-gray-gubler-lover
If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!
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topazadine · 2 months
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Avoiding therapy speak in writing
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I think we all know by now that therapy speak is irritating and unrealistic, especially if you are writing in a fantasy world that doesn't even have modern psychology.
Part of the reason that it is so annoying is that it is the definition of telling instead of showing: characters are just plainly informing us of their feelings rather than making us work for a better understanding. It's cheap and boring. Instead of making your characters seem like complex individuals with their own hangups and difficulties, they seem like plot points programmed to tell us things.
But obviously, you want to put these people in situations and have them talk about it! How do you do that without sounding maudlin? Here are some options.
Listen to real arguments/conversations
I cannot stress enough how important it is to listen to how actual real human beings talk to each other during heightened emotional states. They don't have to be nasty abusers, and they don't have to be perfect angels, just everyday people doing their normal thing.
Of course, I'd hope you're not seeing people argue all the time, but if you do happen to see it, listen carefully and notice how people actually address their problems. Think back to tough conversations that you have had, even if you wouldn't classify them as arguments. Consider how people acted and reacted to one another. Notice how normal humans talk about issues outside of therapy, even intelligent and emotionally evolved people.
I've had years of therapy, and even I do not talk in therapy ways about my issues when I'm talking to my family or friends. It just feels cheesy and fake outside of that particular setting - plus, it freaks other people out and can seem kind of manipulative. Try talking like that in a real conversation and see how uncomfortable it is. You'll understand why avoiding therapy speak is important.
Consider the character's own hangups
Just as everyone has their own unique speaking style and mindset, so do we all have our own argument styles. These are often informed by our pasts and upbringing; they are as varied as our own histories. However, there are a few different options.
Someone with a happy upbringing may be more assertive and willing to address their problems because they had that demonstrated to them as children.
A spoiled child will grow up to be a demanding adult who refuses to give any quarter.
Those who got yelled at a lot as children may shut down and fawn to avoid getting hurt.
Someone who grew up in a violent household may mimic that behavior and get incredibly aggressive when upset.
Individuals whose parents didn't teach them emotional regulation will lash out and get loud.
Manipulative people may stay very calm and gaslight the other person, or they may get hysterical to garner sympathy and make people focus on comforting them.
Someone who has gone to therapy may revert to their original argument style, or they may imperfectly apply what they have learned in a way that feels a bit unnatural. They may start out with rage, then force themselves to calm down through grounding techniques.
People who have been coached through previous emotional outbursts could demand a time out, then fail to actually calm themselves down.
Some may refuse to acknowledge they are upset and insist, in increasingly forceful terms, that they are fine.
Others may get quiet or crack a joke to ease the tension, but it doesn't really help.
Keep each confrontation short
IRL, emotional confrontations are generally not that long. They don't go on for hours and hours, though it can feel that way. No one is going on and on about their feelings and sharing every little detail of how they feel (at least not that I know of personally, maybe other people are different).
Even the worst arguments I have had, the real nexus of the argument was maybe an hour or two, though the fallout lasted much longer. I'd say there was an hour maximum of real, active confrontation, preceded or followed by hours/days/weeks of simmering frustration.
Why? Because arguments are exhausting. You don't have the energy for that in the heat of the moment. Yes, feuds and fights can last years, but each actual confrontation is short.
For longer, more serious issues, hash it out over a few sessions rather than all at once. It's rare to get everything out of the way immediately unless the characters already have a strong, loving relationship.
Show incongruencies
Especially for more reserved people, they will likely have their emotions leaking all over the place but won't actually say anything. As such, focus on body language while keeping the conversation more focused on the plot. For example, Character A might be crying but still trying to argue their point about whatever is going on.
Address physical complaints instead of emotional ones
In many cases, people will use "I'm tired" or "I didn't sleep well" or "I'm not feeling great" as shorthand for whatever is actually bothering them. It relieves pressure by not making them talk about upsetting matters while still addressing their discomfort in some form.
You should also consider the fact that some people can't connect physical sensations to feelings, so they may genuinely feel ill and not really understand why. This is especially common in people who can't emotionally regulate or have been through trauma.
For myself, I tend to somatize my feelings, so I might not feel upset, but I will feel physically sick. My stomach will hurt, my chest will get tight, or I'll get a headache, but my emotional state will seem calm. This isn't all that unusual, and many people experience this to different degrees.
As such, you can have your character say that their stomach hurts, or that they have a headache and can't discuss this anymore, or that they need to go lie down because they're dizzy. If we know they're relatively healthy, this can be a clue that they're getting overwhelmed but either cannot pinpoint their emotions or don't want to discuss them.
Let characters advance and retreat
A lot of the time, someone will address a scary emotion and then retreat again, sometimes over a period of hours, days, or even weeks. This is normal: most of us don't have the emotional fortitude to forge ahead through something difficult all in one go. Character A may say something vulnerable, then change the topic, laugh it off, say they're done discussing it, or even leave the situation.
Leave emotions partially unaddressed
Again, it's rare for someone to spill out everything they're feeling all in one go. As such, have Character A address the most important thing - or the least important, depending on their level of emotional maturity - and let it be done for then.
They might say their small piece, but when someone tries to probe deeper, they don't have an answer, or they get "stuck" on that one emotional level and cannot go further.
If Character B keeps pushing, then they may get incredibly upset and push back, or retreat.
Have Character B point out the feelings
Works especially well if the other character is a close companion or a parental figure. Often, people who know us really well will have better insight into our emotions than we do. Or, we might have good insight into our emotions but are still too afraid to open up. Having Character B point out the issue gives Character A grace to be more honest.
I can't tell you how many times I've been really upset, so I've distracted from the issue by getting angry about something completely different. Then, my mom will gently point out that I'm not actually crying about my new plastic cup being broken or whatever; I'm actually upset about XYZ. In that moment, I realize I've been caught out and admit that yes, that's what I'm really upset about.
Have Character A address it with a third character
Who among us hasn't gone to someone else to talk about our feelings? Having a third party serve as a sounding board is normal. Sometimes, Character A will feel such catharsis from this conversation that they don't address it as thoroughly with Character B.
Of course, you can use this to your advantage and create more tension if the third character gives bad advice or is biased.
Remember that just because the third party responded well does not mean that Character B does. You also have to avoid omniscience and remember that Character B wasn't privy to that conversation.
Have one confrontation be a stand-in for a larger one
I always think about the "The Iranian Yogurt Is Not the Issue" post when I think about this. Often times, things like not doing the dishes or whatever aren't actually the big deal: it's lack of boundaries, communication, or respect. A minor argument can be shorthand for a larger one that is too challenging for the characters to tackle.
This isn't just creating drama for the hell of it, though; it's about exploring the larger issues without making the characters lay it out on the table. A good reader will be able to see it's not about the Iranian Yogurt as long as you set up the relationship well.
Currently, I am writing a story where Uileac and his sister Cerie go to rescue Uileac's husband, Orrinir. On the way there, Uileac idly comments on how he wonders where a waterfall comes from because he's trying to distract himself from thinking about the fact that his husband is kidnapped and possibly dead.
Cerie, being pretty wound up too, starts arguing with him about it because she's like "why is this relevant? We're kind of too busy to think about geology right now!" Uileac gets annoyed at her for being so aggro, and she gets annoyed at him for being so irreverent. Both of them are upset about something completely different, but they're too scared and panicked to actually address that, so they release their frustrations by complaining about waterfalls.
Those bad vibes have to go somewhere, but neither of them are very good at talking about their feelings (though very good at stuffing them down). As such, they take the pressure off by sniping at one another. You've probably done this too, when you get into a dumb argument about something absolutely pointless because there's something you don't feel strong enough to discuss.
There's also the fact that if you're mad at someone about something but feel it's too stupid or petty to discuss, that frustration will leak out and everything else they do will annoy you, leading to a bunch of irrelevant arguments.
Use "reaffirmation" gestures
I talked about this in a different post, but after an argument, the "make up" stage doesn't always involve going "ohhh I forgive you" and big hugs and kisses, especially when the two characters aren't emotionally mature.
Instead, Character A makes gestures that reaffirm the relationship. This could be offering to do something Character B needs, making plans for later, or changing the topic to discuss something the other character cares about ("how are your cats doing?") etc.
Note that these "reaffirmation" gestures aren't the same as the cycle of abuse. This is more when two characters have had a difficult emotional conversation but aren't really sure how to continue being emotionally open, so they revert to something safer that still shows they care. They're not over-the-top gestures either, but more a special attention to something the other person loves. Knowing what the other person loves also demonstrates the depth of their relationship.
As always, I can't tell you what to do with your writing.
You are the crafter of your own story, and if you want people to talk like therapists for whatever reason, that's your choice. However, we want characters to feel like real people, and most real people don't lay it all out on the table every single time they're upset. If they do, they might be trauma vomiting, which is icky in and of itself.
Healthy communication isn't always perfect communication. People can have strong, loving relationships and still get things wrong - we're human. Having people calmly and rationally and easily talk about their feelings every single time is not only kind of boring, but it also feels weird, because unless we're primed to discuss those difficult topics and know we're perfectly safe, we're not going to do that.
People don't even do that in therapy, where they are paying for the service of talking about their feelings! Therapists also don't always do that IRL!
We're humans, and your characters need to feel like humans as well. That means letting them be imperfect communicators and using context clues rather than making them do all the work for the reader.
If you liked my advice, consider purchasing my book, 9 Years Yearning, for $3!
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imaginespazzi · 1 month
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Part 6: To Trying Again
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Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9
I don't wanna mess this thing up (I don't wanna push too far)
(In which an "evil" writer might surprise you guys just a little bit with this part)
Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd
Themes: Fluff and Angst
Words: 5.6K
TW: Swearing (I think that's it?)
A/N: Happy Monday lovelies! This is sort of a filler-ish short chapter though I do think it's important to both plot and character development. I'd like to preface this by saying I've never been to Minsk or Park Pieramohi so I'm very much going off of pictures. Editing and I remain on very, very bad terms so pretty please let me know of typos so I can fix them. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3
July 2018 
“You’re being too loud,” Azzi whisper-screams at the blonde girl in front of her as she closes the door to her room behind her with a little too much force. 
Paige turns her head back every-so-slightly with a pronounced eye roll, “will you please relax.”
“I would if you’d just be a little more careful,” Azzi glares, taking cautious steps as if the sound of her sneakers across the carpeted floor could potentially wake up any of the coaches. 
“Azzi,” Paige says exasperatedly, “the coaches are all the way on the other end of the hallway. Besides, they're probably all sleeping.”
And despite her stubbornness, Azzi can concede that Paige has a point there. It’s nearly midnight and the game against Spain earlier in the day might have had a final score that made it seem like the USA U17 women's basketball team had won handily, but the game itself had been draining to say the least. The post-victory dinner had featured a bunch of worn out teenagers gobbling their food without much conversation and a cohort of coaches who seemed like they needed an hour of drinking followed by good night’s sleep. But even the exhaustion of the day hadn’t been enough to prevent Paige Bueckers and her diabolical mind from coming up with the idea to sneak out into the city of Minsk. 
“No,” Azzi had said immediately even before the words had been spoken, that shimmering glint in Paige’s eyes a dead giveaway as she sidled up to Azzi at the salad bar. 
“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” Paige had pouted. 
“You never say anything good.”
“That’s crazy. You’re so mean to me.”
“So mean,” Azzi had nodded in agreement, “so how about you go and bother someone else.”
“Azzi please. We haven’t had just Paige and Azzi time in ages. Don’t want someone else. Just want you.”
And after that well, there wasn’t really any chance of saying no. Azzi’s only fifteen and she doesn’t know that much about love, but sometimes when Paige looks at her with those earnest blue eyes and a smile that promises i’ll always be here, she thinks the way her heart starts to flutter erratically to a beat of and i wouldn’t want anyone else to stay, might just be the start of her finding out. 
“See,” Paige grins triumphantly as the two girls find their way out of their hotel and onto the street, “told you we wouldn’t get caught. Shit’s just too damn easy.”
Azzi rolls her eyes at the attitude, “don’t tempt fate.”
“Fate’s got nothing in front of Paige Bueckers. I make my own fate,” Paige winks as she links her arms through Azzi. 
It’s a mundane amount of contact, absolutely nothing special to it, but Azzi feels herself shiver in spite of the humidity that’s circling around them. She doesn’t quite know how it happened. One moment she was staring across the court, judging the skinny blonde practicing free throws and coming to the conclusion that she’d be no threat; the next moment said girl was next to her on the plane back from Argentina and Azzi, a self-admitted introvert, found herself rattling off about everything and nothing with this girl who seemed to have discovered the keys to all of Azzi’s locks. Hours of talking had bled into days and days had bled into months and despite the fact that facetime had taken the place of in-person conversations, the word friendship had seemed too cavalier a word to describe the relationship Paige and Azzi were building. 
Paige had whittled away all of Azzi’s carefully constructed armor until she was buried deep underneath her skin and Azzi’s sure there’s no knife in the world sharp enough to carve the blonde out from where she lives underneath Azzi’s ribcage. Azzi doesn’t want anyone to try and dig her out. She  thinks she might bleed out if they do. 
“Az,” Paige whines, waving her free hand in the younger girl’s face, “are you even paying attention to me?”
“That depends,” Azzi hums, “are you saying anything interesting?”
“I’m always saying something interesting.”
“You’re always saying something. The interesting is subjective,” Azzi teases, laughing when Paige pouts. 
“I sneak you out to give you an adventure and this is how you repay me? With insults?” Paige puts a dramatic hand to her heart.
“Walking boring streets is not an adventure. Virginia has streets too.”
“It’s not about the streets, it’s about where the streets lead to,” Paige says with grave seriousness. 
Azzi raises an eyebrow, “are you entering your philosopher Paige era?”
“I’d make a good philosopher,” Paige waggles her own eyebrows as they two girls find themselves entering park Pieramohi. 
“Virginia has parks too, you know Paige?” Azzi says skeptically. 
Paige lets out a dramatic sigh, “will you just keep walking, woman. Sometimes I wonder if you even like me?”
It’s said like a joke but there’s a hint of insecurity beaded into it that buzzes in Azzi’s ears as she wraps a careful hand around Paige’s wrist, stopping the two of them where they are. 
“Hey,” she whispers softly, nudging the older girl, “you don’t ever have to wonder with me. I’m always gonna like you Paige. Even if you’re a pain in my ass half the time.”
“Had to ruin it with the last part, didn't you?” Paige complains but her eyes twinkle at the reassurance, “Just so you know I’m gonna be a pain in your ass forever.”
“I’m gonna hold you to that,” Azzi promises as they continue strolling through the park. 
The silence is peaceful and the breeze that flows around them is like a comforting hug. And Azzi thinks that she’d be okay if there wasn’t a destination for them to get to, as long as the journey came with Paige by her side. 
“We’re almost there,” Paige says slowly, a slightly nervous edge to her voice. 
“You sure you’re not just getting us lost-” the teasing quip dies on Azzi’s tongue as she stares at the scenery in front of her. They’re standing on the edge of a bridge overlooking a lake and it looks like something out of a disney fairytale; the picturesque image of green trees silhouetted against a magically starry night is captured perfectly on the still surface of the water that’s flowing beneath. As Azzi peers across the railing, Paige right next to her, she feels her breath hitch at the reflection that peers up at her. Because the view in front of them is beautiful but Paige’s eyes are on Azzi and she’s staring at her as if the view is nothing in comparison. 
“C’mon,” the blonde says softly, lacing her fingers through Azzi’s as she tugs her along, “I have a plan.”
“There’s more?” Azzi asks in awe as Paige guides her to the gazebo in the middle of the bridge. 
“Just a little bit,” Paige says and oh- that shy smile is different. Azzi doesn’t think she’s seen that one yet and she makes a mental note to herself, to memorize it and store it along with all of Paige’s other smiles that make Azzi’s insides swoop like a rollercoaster. 
She watches intently as Paige begins to peruse through the purple rucksack she’d been carrying. The first thing out of it is a picnic blanket and then a horde of different snacks, all of Azzi’s favorites. Two plastic champagne glasses are next and then a sheepish grin as Paige pulls out a bottle of soda. 
“Couldn’t quite risk trying to get alcohol,” Paige scratches at her neck. 
“Next time maybe,” Azzi shrugs as she helps Paige set up the arrangement and she feels herself fluttering at the thought of doing this again and again and again. 
“How’d you even find this place?” she asks as Paige begins to pour out the soda. 
“You ever heard of googling?”
Azzi rolls her eyes at Paige’s teasing smirk, “how’d you even have time to do this?”
Paige is quiet for a second as she passes Azzi her glass, “wanted to do something special for us,” she says quietly, keeping her eyes intently on what she’s doing as she pours out a drink for herself, “wasn’t hard to find time for you.”
“You could be a poet, Paige Bueckers,” Azzi whispers and she knows it’s unfair of her but she thinks it anyway. As long as all your poems are about me. 
“The poets are lucky I chose a ball instead of a pen. They’d be out of a job otherwise,” Paige says, trying to ease back into the more familiar arrogance. 
“Always so humble,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes as she holds up her glass, “alright what are toasting to?”
“I came up with this whole thing. You can come up with a toast,” Paige scrunches her nose and Azzi shakes her head at it. 
She thinks for a second before smiling brightly at the girl in front of her, “let’s just keep it simple and toast to us.”
“How original,” Paige teases but she clinks her glass against Azzi’s anyways, “here’s to us.”
“Here’s to us,” Azzi repeats as they both take sips of soda. 
They melt into a comfortable silence, relishing in this rare moment where there isn’t a screen separating them from each other. Facetimes is a wonderful creation but a blurry screen, Azzi decides, doesn’t nearly do justice to just how damn pretty Paige is. Her hair is golden as it basks in the glow of the moon and Azzi wonders if the stars are jealous of how brilliantly the blonde’s blue eyes twinkle.
It’s Paige who speaks first, her voice hesitant, “you uh- you never asked me how my date went a couple of weeks ago.”
Azzi feels her whole body go rigid. She’d almost forgotten about Paige’s wretched date. The blonde had told her about it a couple of days before the actual event and Azzi had played the dutiful role of a best friend, teasing Paige with a light-heartedness she didn’t feel and congratulating her with an excitement that came from anywhere but from the heart. She’d purposely avoided Paige’s calls the day of the date and then two days after, coming up with some sorry excuse she no longer remembers. On the third day, when the hollow ache of i miss her voice in her chest had become too hard to ignore, Azzi had finally picked up the phone and diverted the conversation straight to a different topic. She hadn’t thought of the date since. 
“Guess it slipped my mind,” she says airily, fingers gripping the edge of the picnic blanket. 
“I could tell you about it now,” Paige says slowly. 
I’d rather you didn’t, Azzi thinks but that’s a thought that veers a little too out of the sphere of best-friend-isms and so she simply nods her head, “y-yeah tell me about it. How was it?”
“It was nice,” Paige begins and there’s something hidden in her tone that Azzi can't quite place but she’s a little too busy sulking at the idea of Paige with anybody else to try and decipher it, “dinner was good. Took her to a movie after. That was good too.”
“That’s cool P. I’m glad- I’m glad you had fun,” Azzi says nonchalantly, gripping the glass in her hands just a little too tight. 
“I didn’t.”
“What?”
“I didn’t really have that much fun,” Paige clarifies and Azzi gawks at her in confusion as the older girl fidgets with the frayed edges of the picnic blankets, “just didn’t- didn’t feel right. Don’t think she had much fun either. She never texted me after.”
“What a bitch,” Azzi bites out, suddenly irrationally angry at a girl she’d never met because how could anyone possibly not have fun with Paige, “I’m sorry P. You deserve-”
“I didn’t care that she didn’t text back-”
“Still. It’s just the decent thing to do,” Azzi rants. 
“Maybe,” Paige shrugs, “but I didn’t have time to care about that. I had other things on my mind. Like the fact that you weren’t talking to me.”
Azzi flinches at the accusation, rushing out her previous defense, “I was busy.”
“Bullshit,” Paige sneers. 
“Paige-”
“But I get it,” the older girl says softly as she reaches for Azzi’s hand, tugging the brunette closer to her and Azzi feels something inside her erupt at how close their faces are, “I probably wouldn’t have talked to you for two days either if you went on a date with someone else.”
“Oh,” Azzi breathes out and there’s probably something more eloquent she should say but there’s this realization of maybe you feel it too that’s beginning to creep up her spine, rendering her speechless as Paige continues to stare at her like she’s mapping out all the tiniest details of Azzi’s face. 
“The whole date, I kept thinking how you wouldn’t order what she ordered off the menu or that you would probably hit my hand if I tried to steal something off your plate but then give it to me anyway. And that the movie would never have been so quiet with you and we’d probably get yelled at for giggling too much and I-” Paige pauses, dragging in a deep breath, “I definitely would’ve kissed you at the end.”
A sigh of relief escapes Azzi’s lips, “you didn’t kiss her.”
“No,” Paige confirms as she drops her forehead against Azzi’s, “but I-,” the blonde gulps nervously and Azzi can’t help the way her hand reaches up to caress the blush forming on Paige’s cheeks. 
“Ask me,” she whispers.
“I really want to kiss you,” Paige confesses, voice shaking slightly, “can I kiss you?”
Azzi doesn’t say anything, choosing to reply instead by pressing her lips softly against Paige’s. They move slowly at first, testing each other’s boundaries and savoring their first taste of each other. Azzi pulls the older girl onto her lap, hands firmly on Paige’s hips as the other girl clasps her own hands around Azzi’s neck.  It’s a little messy and uncoordinated and Azzi thinks they might need to practice a little more to really get it right but still, it’s everything.
And Azzi just knows
She knows it then just the way she knew Tim was meant to be her dad. The way she knew Jon and José were meant to be her brothers. The way she knew she was meant to play basketball. Azzi knows that she’s meant to fall hopelessly in love with Paige Bueckers. 
March 2033
There are three things Azzi should do. 
Push Paige away 
Tell her this a bad idea 
Run the fuck away
She does none of the above.
Instead Azzi kisses Paige back. 
And it’s still everything. Like the sun and moon are colliding and creating something so insanely powerful; something that feels so eternal. 
There’s nothing soft or slow about it as Paige presses every inch of herself into Azzi until she can feel Paige’s heartbeat as strongly as she can feel her own. It might be impossible but she swears their hearts are talking to each other, tapping out rhythms against each other’s chests that confess all the things their owners are too scared to say. And Azzi wants nothing more than to lose herself completely in the moment because Paige’s lips feel like a drug and Azzi thinks she might just be an addict in relapse. 
Except to relapse, you need to have recovered. And Azzi doesn’t think she ever fully recovered from Paige. 
It isn’t until she feels her back hit the edge of a desk and the sound of something crashing onto the floor infiltrates her ears, that Azzi finally comes to her senses. She tears her lips away from Paige as the older woman groans in protest, arms tightening their hold on Azzi’s waist so she can still have some semblance of control over the situation. And really Azzi knows she’s strong enough to escape Paige’s grip, could easily fight it if she wanted to. But well, she doesn’t want to. And Azzi’s tired of doing things she doesn’t want to do. 
“Paige-”
“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘we can’t do this’, Azzi I swear to god I’m going to kill you,” Paige threatens, pressing her forehead against Azzi’s. 
Azzi laughs softly and she can feel Paige’s whole body relax at the sound of it and like clockwork, she feels the tension beginning to release from her own muscles, “if you kill me then we definitely can’t do this.”
“I’ll revive you after or something,” Paige says with a half-smirk. 
“Or something,” Azzi rolls her eyes, “but we can’t-”
“Azzi,” Paige groans. 
“We can’t do this right now and definitely not here,” Azzi amends, alluding to the fact that they’re still in Steph’s office. 
Paige raises an eyebrow, cocking her head slightly, “but we can do this later? Somewhere else?”
The question lingers between them as Azzi bites her lip. She knows what this is, knows that it’s Paige putting the ball in her court. A ‘no’ would likely be the end of things and that scares her more than she’s willing to admit but she’s not quite ready to commit to a ‘yes’ yet, even if that flame of desire inside of her, the one that can only be lit by Paige, is blazing hot through her veins. 
“I don’t know,” Azzi says carefully, shivering at the way Paige’s thumb is rubbing circles against her waist, the flimsy material of her shirt doing nothing to prevent the goosebumps forming on her skin, “TBD.”
“That’s not a no,” Paige says carefully, hope blossoming freely on her face. 
“That’s not a yes either,” Azzi warns half-heartedly. 
“But it’s not a no,” Paige presses. 
“No,” Azzi admits, playing with the neckline of Paige’s shirt, “it’s not a no.”
And Azzi’s so scared of the future, scared that if she lets herself burn, she’ll incinerate everyone around her but there’s something in the way Paige smiles at her words. Something that feels a lot like a promise of i’ll be the rain that washes out the fire before you can turn us to ashes. 
“I can work with that,” Paige says softly, tilting Azzi’s chin up. 
“So desperate to get back into my pants Bueckers,” Azzi teases and she expects a witty remark in return but instead she’s met with nothing but sincerity. 
“So desperate to get back into your life,” Paige whispers, voice cracking on the last two words. 
Tears prickle against Azzi’s waterline as she stares in awe at the girl in front of her. Sometimes she thinks Paige doesn’t even know that there’s a halo of goodness sitting above her head, doesn't even know just how beautiful her soul is. Paige is stunning on the outside; it’s something no one can deny. But it’s nothing compared to how gorgeous she is on the inside, nothing compared to how kind, how humble, how forgiving Paige is. 
“Why?” Azzi asks, her tone rife with heaviness. 
“Why what?” 
“After everything, after all this time, why would you still want to be in my life?” the tears fall harder as Azzi struggles to breathe, “I- I broke your heart. I broke us. How could you possibly want that again. How could you possibly want me again?”
Paige's eyes soften as she cups Azzi’s cheeks, thumbs brushing away at the drops of water running down them, “because you’re Azzi. My Azzi. And I get it- I get that you’re not ready to be all in on this with me yet and if I’m being honest with myself, I’m not completely ready either. But we can work on it right? Take it slow and see where it goes and maybe we’ll- maybe we’ll be even better this time.”
“You think so?”
“I believe so.”
Azzi presses her lips delicately against Paige’s, reveling in the way it makes Paige’s breath hitch. She pulls away faster than she would like herself and Paige chases her lips, eyes still closed. 
“What was that for,” the blonde asks, slightly dazed. 
“For being my Paige.”
***
Azzi taps her foot impatiently against her wooden patio as she glances at her phone clock for the umpteenth time. Paige is almost twenty minutes late to pick her and Stephie up to go to dinner at her parent’s house. The invites had technically been separate but Paige had insisted that they needed to go together because Paige didn’t want to walk into the house alone. Azzi’s not sure why Paige is nervous to see her dad and brothers again, not when she’s pretty sure they’re bursting with excitement to see the blonde whose pictures still have a permanent place on the family photo wall, but if Paige wants Azzi by her side, well she’s not going to say no. Not anymore. 
 It’s been a week since they’d agreed to take things slow and Azzi’s still not quite sure what exactly that means, but she thinks she likes it. She likes being able to call Paige and not having to come up with a lame excuse for why. She likes that she and Paige can take Stephie out for ice cream after Curry Camp and they don’t have to pretend they’re only tolerating each other’s presence for the little girl’s sake. She likes that they can brush their pinkies while walking and instead of jolting away, they simply just link them together. There’s boundaries of course. No sleepovers at either of their houses. No doing anything more than kissing. No kissing in front of anyone else and definitely no kissing in front of Stephie. No doing anything in front of Stephie really. And there’s still so much mountain left to climb but as long as they’re pushing up it together, Azzi doesn’t think there’s any incline steep enough to stop her from continuing up this path.
“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals as Paige’s car rounds the corner into Azzi’s driveway. 
Paige steps out of the car, arms wide open and ready to catch Stephie as the little girl goes tumbling down the front porch, aiming straight for the blonde. Azzi’s not an artist by any means but if she was, she thinks she could paint a thousand pictures of Stephie and her Miss Buecks. It terrifies Azzi a little bit, just how perfectly Stephie fits into Paige’s side but it calms her too because there’s a part of her that’s in love with how much they love each other.
“You’re late Bueckers,” Azzi chides as she follows her daughter’s path down the patio stairs. 
Paige grins, shifting Stephie on her lap as she opens the side door to her car to pull out two bouquets of flowers
“Will these make up for it?” she asks slyly as she hands the larger one, an assortment of pink flowers, to Azzi and a slightly smaller bouquet of purple hydrangeas to Stephie. 
“These are so pretty Miss Buecks,” Stephie gushes before pressing a kiss to Paige’s cheek left cheek and Paige beams at the compliment, “thank you Miss Buecks.”
“You took that long to get flowers?” Azzi asks with a raised eyebrow. 
“Mama,” Stephie chides immediately, “you’re supposed to thank someone when they give you a gift.”
“Yeah Azzi,” Paige’s eyes glimmer with mirth, “thank me like Stephie thanked me. Don’t you think Mama owes me a kiss on the cheek Steph?”
Azzi narrows her eyes at the scheming pair in front of her as Stephie nods animatedly at Paige’s question, “yeah Mama you owe Miss Buecks a kiss on the cheek.”
Shaking her head, Azzi walks over to Paige taking deliberately steady steps. Slowly Azzi leans in, puckering her lips. Paige closes her eyes and Azzi winks at Stephie who’s eyes widen. 
“I’m waiting,” Paige sing-songs, a self-satisfied smirk taking over her features. 
And instead of the promised kiss, Azzi licks a sloppy strip down Paige’s cheek and the blonde shrieks as both Azzi and Stephie burst into laughter.
“EW AZZI GROSS,” Paige whines, hurriedly rubbing her shirt against her cheek, “is this what you’re teaching your daughter?”
“I’m teaching my daughter not to let anyone manipulate her,” Azzi says, giving Paige a careful look, “now why were you late?”
Paige grins sheepishly as she opens the door to the backseat of the door. A lavender car seat is placed on the left side of the car and Azzi feels her heart lurch with no one’s ever cared like this. 
“It’s pu-ple,” Stephie claps excitedly, “is it for me?”
“Of course it is,” Paige confirms, booping Stephie’s nose before looking at Azzi, “it’s just- we uh- we always have to take your car cause it has the car seat and moving it between cars is such a hassle. So I just thought- you know- I just thought it’d be cool- useful- practical- if I had one too? And this way if you ever need me to take Stephie off you then I uh- then you don’t have to worry about me driving. I don’t- I don’t really knows much about car seats but I looked it up online before and the person at the store agreed that this is definitely the best one- like I swear it’s safe-”
She’s cut off by the feel of Azzi’s lips pressed to her cheeks. 
“Thank you Paige.”
***
Just as Azzi expected, Paige merges herself back into the Fudd family with the same ease she’d first had when she’d carved out a place for herself almost a decade and a half ago. It’s a little emotional at first when Tim opens the door, a smile almost as big as him decorating his face as he pulls Paige into a hug even before she can say a word. 
“Welcome home kid,” he whispers into her blonde hair and Azzi doesn’t have to see Paige’s face to know that her best friend is blinking away tears. 
Guilt surges in Azzi’s stomach and she tries to swallow away the lump of i took this from her that’s blocking her throat. It had been so simple at 15 to give Paige a part of her world; Azzi hadn’t thought twice about it. And then with the snap of her fingers, she’d taken that world away. She knows her parents had never cut Paige out; hell they’d been at her wedding to some other woman -and Azzi had pushed them to go knowing Paige would need it- but it was a far cry from what they’d been. A far cry from when Paige’s schedule was a key factor while planning Fudd family summers. 
“Hey,” Stephie pouts, tiny hands crossed over her small body “I thought you always gave me the first hug Pops.”
“We’ll make an exception today,” Tim says with a wink before letting Paige walk into Katie’s arms and spinning his granddaughter around, “but you’re always gonna be my favorite.”
“I better be,” Stephie threatens and the adults around her laugh. 
And finally it’s Azzi's turn to be pulled into one of her dad’s patent bear hugs. She goes willingly, always at her most warmest in the arms of the man whose blood might not run through her veins, but whose love had always protected her from the cruelties of the world. 
“You look really happy today sweetheart,” Tim says softly. 
Azzi’s eyes flitter over her father’s shoulder to where Jon and José are embroiling Paige in a group hug with Stephie in the middle of it, screaming about finally having their “white sister” back, as Katie and José’s fiancé Tallulah roll their eyes at the group of them, and she can’t help but smile into her dad’s shirt, “I feel pretty happy today.”
*** 
“You cheated,” Jon yells. 
“Miss Buecks does not cheat,” Stephie yells back loyally. 
“Don’t get into this Stephie. You don’t know her like we do,” José glares at Paige who narrows her eyes at him, “she’s been stealing from the bank.”
“Miss Buecks does not  steal,” Stephie defends again, wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck from behind as the blonde presses a quick kiss against Stephie’s temple. 
“It’s okay Stephie,” Paige reassures, gently swinging the little girl into her lap, “some people are just sore losers.”
“Can’t be a sore loser because I didn’t lose-” José coughs and Jon corrects himself immediately, “because we didn’t lose.”
“Y’all let it go,” Tallulah groans, leaning her head back against the sofa, “it’s literally just monopoly. Please, I'm so tired.”
“Just monopoly? JUST MONOPOLY?” José guffaws dramatically, “I can’t believe I’m marrying someone who doesn’t understand that it isn’t just monopoly Tallulah. It’s about liars and cheats and honor-”
“Miss Buecks has plenty of honor,” Stephie says stubbornly, leaning her head back against Paige’s chest.
Jon rounds on Azzi, who’s been silently watching the situation, “did you help her cheat?”
“Excuse me?” Azzi asks, glaring at her brother from where she’s been comfortable reclining on the sofa. She’d opted to be the banker instead of playing, content just handing out money to the rest of them while watching the game unfold. But really she hadn’t been paying much attention to anyone else but her daughter and Paige. Stephie didn’t quite understand the rules yet and so she was always on someone’s team. It had been a given tonight, that of course she would be with Paige. And Azzi had watched, trying not to be too obvious, with a foolish grin on her face, as her two favorite people whispered to each other, Paige listening intently to all of Stephie’s ideas whether they were good or bad. 
“Oh good point,” José turns to look at Azzi too, “you’re the banker, did you help Paige cheat?”
“Mama would never cheat,” Stephie argues defiantly as Azzi pushes herself up from the sofa to send a menacing look to both of her brothers. 
“I’m not going to dignify that accusation with a justification,” Azzi says, standing so she’s towering over her two brothers who are still sitting on the floor, “now clean up the game. It’s almost Stephie’s bedtime.”
 They might be well into their twenties and José might be taller than her now, but they’re still not quite  immune to Azzi’s wrath. Tallulah and Paige snicker as the two men, sulking at each other, obey their older sister's command without another word. 
“You’ve gotta teach me how you do that,” Tallulah says, hi-fiving Azzi who smirks in response. 
“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whispers, “what does dig-ni-fy mean?”
“Mean she’s not gonna entertain your uncles being dumba-”
“Paige!”
“Being dumbapples,” Paige corrects and both Azzi and Stephie give her an odd look at her ridiculous attempt at saving the bad word from leaving her lips. 
“Alright Stephie-bean,” Azzi says, pulling her daughter off of Paige’s lap, “it’s late enough. Off to brush your teeth you go.”
Stephie looks hesitantly between the staircase leading up to the guest bedroom -where she and Azzi normally stayed- and Paige. 
“Can Miss Buecks stay with us tonight?” she asks softly, one hand bunching in Paige’s shirt as she stares up at her mother with large doe eyes, “please Mama.”
“Stephie I don’t think-” Paige begins, ready to stick to the boundaries they’d laid out for themselves and really Azzi should let her; should follow her lead really.  
Except the words are tumbling out of her mouth before she can stop them, “yeah she can- she can stay.”
“YAYY,” Stephie squeals, jumping into Azzi’s arms as Paige stares up at her in surprise, “thank you, thank you, thank you Mama. I’m so happy,” she swings from Azzi to Tallulah, “aunty Tully did you hear? Miss Buecks is gonna stay with us and you can make her your famous pancakes in the morning.”
“I can, can I?” Tallulah asks with a raised eyebrow as she lets Stephie and her excited chatter lead her towards the bathroom. With Jon and José both having already started towards their own rooms and Azzi’s parents fast asleep, it leaves just Paige and Azzi in the living room. 
“You’re okay with me staying?” Paige asks softly, finally lifting herself from the floor and onto her feet. 
Azzi scratches the back of her neck, “if- if you want to. You don’t have to. I can- I’ll explain to Stephie-”
“I want to,” Paige says, taking a cautious step towards Azzi, “but the rules?”
“This doesn’t count,” Azzi justifies and Paige smirks, taking another step towards the brunette. 
“It doesn’t?”
“We said no sleeping over at each other’s places. This is my parent’s house. So technically it doesn’t count,” Azzi shrugs, trying to keep her face from breaking into a grin as Paige moves one more step closer. 
“And where exactly am I sleeping?” Paige asks with a knowing grin as she loops an arm around Azzi’s waist, briefly checking to make sure no one’s around. 
Azzi tilts her head, letting the grin break through, “I think Stephie would like it if you slept with us.”
“Ah well if that’s what Stephie would like,” Paige says, nodding commiseratingly. 
“For Stephie’s sake,” Azzi repeats as she wraps her arm around Paige’s neck, pressing her forehead against the older girl’s and letting herself just breathe in the peace that comes with being all consumed by Paige. 
“Azzi,” Paige’s voice is laced with uncharacteristic vulnerability as she speaks again, “you won’t- you won’t run away again tomorrow morning will you?”
“No,” Azzi promises, gently brushing her lips against Paige’s, “I won’t run away again.”
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Text
I started watching Kdramas this year and I do a lot of literature analysis in my normal life, so I found it really fun to find the tropes that were unique to this genre/culture that were different than what I find in Hollywood TV/movies and novels. I started with Alchemy of Souls and I was kind of amused looking back, because I never thought the SML had a chance with the FL but if I had known how strong the "they met as children and therefore DESTINY" trope is, I probably would have thought they would get together for sure!
Here are some of the unique tropes I've noticed:
-Leads meet as children and therefore DESTINY (What's Wrong with Secretary Kim, 100 Days My Prince, It's Okay to Not be Okay, Castaway Diva, The King's Affection, Sh**ting Stars, Destined with You, subverted in Alchemy of Souls)
-Reincarnation, which happens a ton but of course for the same reason Western media is littered with Chosen One/Saviour plots (played with in Alchemy of Souls and Extraordinary You, straight in Destined with You, Tale of the Nine Tailed, Moon in the Day, My Demon, The Story of Park's Marriage Contract... so many)
-Guy (usually) buys the girl shoes and then puts them on her. They also usually make a joke about her running away. (Tale of the Nine Tailed, 100 Days My Prince, Extraordinary You, Castaway Diva, King the Land, subverted in The King's Affection and The Forbidden Marriage)
-Guy (usually) gives/brings the girl an umbrella to protect her from the rain. I LOVE THIS TROPE, symbolism for protection and shelter gets me (straight in My Lovely Liar, King the Land, Tale of the Nine Tailed, Extraordinary Attorney Woo, subverted/played with in Alchemy of Souls, Business Proposal, Doom at Your Service, Castaway Diva)
-Not sure if this would count as a trope, but unique to the genre because we don't have formal speech in English and especially not in Canada where I live (we've basically started just going first name with everyone) I love it so much when the main characters use informal terms with each other for the first time. The subtitles don't always translate this well, but I know what the honorifics sound like and I'm all, "She didn't use "Mr." that time it's serious now!!!"
Anyway, are there more? I'm probably not catching them all!
Edit: Definitely some sort of trope around characters finding wild ginseng to solve a problem.
(I've only been watching Korean dramas by the way, I'm sure some of these tropes are shared by other dramas from China and Thailand. I just found the comparison with English language TV interesting.)
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evertidings · 2 months
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— JULY 2024.
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accomplishments.
helloooo!!!!! how's everyone doing? summer's almost over here and it's so strange. like damn, where did the time go?? i hope whatever season it is for you that you're enjoying yourself <33
in terms of the chapter, i think i have a good grasp of how much longer it'll take for me to finish so here it is: expect an update sometime in september, likely towards the middle of the month. at that point it'll be almost a year since the last update (haha don't mention it please i already feel guilty enough as it is) so i really appreciate those of you that have waited so long. seriously, i don't ever want to make you wait for an update for that long ever again. of course, things are subject to change, so there's a chance that this might not happen, but i'm hoping. fingers crossed.
the chapter has been a pretty heavy one so far. maybe not so in terms of the actual plot, but the emotions are high. it's probably why i've struggled so much with it, among other things that have happened in my life.
right now i'm writing three scenes at once, with the hopes of finishing one this week. the problem with me is that i'll start scenes and then leave them for me to finish later, which is exactly what it is now: later. so i'm cursing myself for leaving all this work but on the bright side, the majority of it is done and it's really just filling in the gaps and blanks. as long as i can push through this, we're good.
my biggest obstacle will probably be the editing for this chapter, since i wrote some of it months ago. like, maybe february months ago. but we'll tackle that when we get there. as you can tell, there's a lot of "i'll just hope for when we get there" going on. maybe it's a bad tactic, but for now, i'm looking directly at what i have in front of me and will wait to worry about whatever i have to do in the future, in the future. so yeah.
once again, thank you so much for your patience! i promise the chapter is coming as soon as i can get it out to you. i hate the long wait too but i'll make it worth it <3
stats.
chapter total: ~35,890 words (+14,790)
game total: ~507,890 words
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thought--bubble · 8 months
Text
Same as it was
Aegon II X (Prostitute Reader)
Warnings after the cut
Word Count: 2432
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Aegon Masterlist
Full Masterlist
Snake Banners by @arcielee
Caution Banner by @zaldritzosrose
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Warnings:: dirty smut. There really isn't much plot lol. Oral (M & F Receiving) , Squirting kink, Overstim, cum play. Infidelity (technically).
A/N: This is my first attempt on Aegon and is based on some head cannons I have of him. I am totally open to any comments or suggestions about writing him.
"He's a damn usurper!" You whisper hushed to Marella.
Marella is your madame for lack of a better term.
"You're his favorite girl, and he has ordered you specifically. There is nothing I can do. " She grits her teeth and continues shuffling through dresses and holding them up against your body.
"I... I can't! When Queen Rhanyera inevitably comes to claim her throne, I'll be killed!" You bite at your fingernails, anxiety pumping through your body with such harshness you were afraid your knees would buckle.
"You place far too much importance upon yourself. You're a whore. They likely would just pass you off to someone else."
Your stomach turns at the thought. You don't mind working in the brothel. It feels safe. You have the madame and the other girls if something were to go wrong, but this, what Aegon is asking for, It's just too much.
"Why can't he just come here as he always has?" You plead with Marella desperate for her to understand your plight.
"Because he is a king at war. He can not just frolick into town and fuck a whore in his leisure time. He is being watched, and there is a bounty on his head!" Marella chooses a plain looking green dress that hugs your feminine curves. "Here put this on"
"NO! I'm not going!" You rip the dress from Marella's hands and toss it onto the bed. "If there is a bounty on his head and they come looking for that head while I am in his bed, what is to happen to me then?" You look at her expectantly with eyes wide. She couldn't possibly send you there knowing you will most likely be killed. Could she?
"You would most likely be killed. But if you do not do what he tells you to do, you could be killed right now." Marella picks the dress back up off the bed, shoving it harshly against your chest. "Die now or die later. That is your choice. King Aegon has made his choice, and that choice is to have you, up at the castle for him to call upon as he so pleases, I have grown to care for you over the years but not enough to cross the King! Now get dressed!"
You know she's right. Aegon wanted you badly enough that he sent two guards to escort you back to the keep. A place you knew you didn't belong. Queen Heleana is there. You have heard the stories of her generosity and kindness but how kind could she be to her husband's favorite whore?
Not to mention the ever so pious dowager queen, who no doubt would sooner set herself on fire then show any kindness to a whore who regularly services her married son.
"Why me?" You whimper to yourself as you drop the current brown dress you are wearing to swap it with the green one Marcella had chosen for you.
Marcella chuckles from behind you. "Never know with men. Sometimes they find that one thing they like and that's it. Whatever it is for Aegon, it seems you have it."
You roll your eyes and huff as you shake your head in disbelief. "Gods." You look up to the ceiling as soon as you have the dress on. Fighting back tears. He is going to get you killed, and you know exactly why, all because of that one thing you do in bed that he always claims is "so rare."
You straighten your back and shake out your limbs before you exit the room head held high, walking directly to the two men who had been sent to fetch you.
"Put this on." One of the men handed you a hooded cloak. You quickly put it on and lower your gaze. You were going to go with these men and hope that at some point in the future, there would be a chance for you to escape. One of the men grips your upper arm tightly as he leads you out of the brothel, and the three of you head up to the red keep. Each step bringing you closer and closer to your new life as the King's personal whore.
As soon as you breech the gate, the men move faster, and the man holding your arm pushes your head down further. Clearly, this was a mission that was to be completed without alerting other members of the royal family or council.
It is only once you are ushered into a chamber that you are finally allowed to lift your head. "Stay here." is all the man says before swiftly exiting the room.
That final bang of the heavy door slamming makes you flinch. "This is it, isn't it?" You hold your stomach feeling like the little bit of food you ate this morning might make a second appearance.
"I am going to be imprisoned in this room, as the King comes and goes as he wants." You push the hood back off of your head and look around the chamber.
It is the most beautiful room you have ever been in. Luxurious quilts are laying across the top of the large oak bed. A chaise placed strategically by the window a bookshelf to the left.
A small table and two chairs off to the side of the hearth and a wash basin in the corner of the room. If you had to make a choice in being locked up somewhere, this was probably one of the better options.
You take the cloak off and hang it over the back of one of the chairs and reach for the wine that was left on the table. You pour yourself a large cup and start to chug it, and as soon as you finish, move to pour yourself another as you hear the large door opening.
You close your eyes tight, you haven't seen him but you know it's him. That familiar chill crawls up your spine and the back of your neck, alerting you to his presence.
In truth, he is not a cruel man. As far as targaryens went, he was actually quite gentle. But he has a hunger that is incredibly hard to satiate. It's like he is empty and is desperate to fill the empty space with anything, sex, drink, food, anything he can get his hands on.
"How are you settling?" Aegon wastes no time at all quickly, wrapping his arms around your waist as he presses himself up against your back.
"Why am I here? You know you could always just send for me. " You feel him push your hair to one shoulder and start trailing soft kisses along your neck.
"Then I would have to await your arrival and hope you aren't busy with other customers." He gently nibbles up the side of your neck while sliding the flat palms of his hands up your stomach and over your breasts.
"This way, you're always right here when I need you." He presses himself tightly up against your ass. His hardness was evident through his trousers. "And I need you right now." He nips at the top of your shoulder, sending waves of pleasure through your entire being.
"And if someone asks who I am? Why I am here? In such nice chambers?" He chuckles into the crook of your neck.
"No one will ask. I'm the king I do as I like. " He whispers sensually into the shell of your ear as he pulls your dress down off your shoulders. "You know what it is I want"
You know exactly what he wants and how he wants it. That is why you are his favorite. You slide the dress the rest of the way down your form, stepping out of it.
You turn towards him a lustful gleam in your eye as you take his bottom lip between your teeth. "Of course I do your grace".
He takes your head between his hands and kisses you like you are air, and he has been suffocating. The neediness radiates off of him in waves.
You push him back and chuckle as you walk toward the bed. He might be a king and a feared man out there in the land of westeros, but in here, in this room, he is a desperate wanton fool and has no qualms with displaying it. He follows on your heels reaching his hands out trying to get hold of you once again.
You crawl onto the bed on all fours as he excitedly tears at his clothes, desperate to remove them as quickly as possible.
You stay positioned on your knees on the bed waiting for him. You have done this so many times, you know exactly how to start.
He jumps into the bed and lays down flat, pumping himself to hardness while he waits for you. "C'mon, C'mere," He whines as he reaches his hand out towards you.
You can't help but giggle at his desperation as you lift your thigh up over his head and bring your heat just above his face.
"Oh, thank you, beautiful." He says as you smother him with your cunt just the way he likes it. He dives in lapping at your soft inside while flicking your nub with his finger. His other hand pushing at your back urging you to get to work.
The feeling is overwhelmingly good, sending shocks of pleasure down your legs with tingling in your toes. You lean forward and take his cock into your mouth as he grunts loudly into your heat.
"Yessss, that is it" He growls and rubs his entire face into your cunt jamming his tongue inside your body with the finesse of an extremely practiced partner.
You moan onto his cock your drool dripping down the sides and pooling amongst the short silver hairs at its base. He moves his hips up jamming his cock further down your throat.
You make sure to take it as far as you can, fighting the urge to gag as the heat in your stomach builds up to an incredibly compact tightness.
You roll your hips dragging your cunt along his face feeling the smile he presses against your folds. He is in his favorite place burried in the cunt of his favorite whore. He harshly takes your hips in his hands pushing you down further onto his face. Lesser men would suffocate, but Aegon could breath you in all day and remain upright and alert.
He sucks and licks at your clit with precision knowing exactly how to make you topple over the edge and as soon as you do he brings his fingers to your clit and vigorously rubs in quick circles overstimulating the nerve to get exactly what he wants.
When your legs clench tight and you gasp with his cock hanging out of your mouth he knows he is about to be rewarded with his favorite treat. He opens his mouth wide as you gush over his face like a fountain, and he attempts to catch every drop.
He had accidentally found out that you were capable of such things one night down at the brothel and that is how you became his favorite whore. You always found it comical when the other girls would tell you of the borderline torturous overstimulation he would put them through just to test if they would do the same thing.
Aegon laughs with glee as he pushes you off of him. You assume the next position placing your cheek flush against the quilt of the bed, leaning your ass up in the air.
"See? Fully trained. Why wouldn't I bring you up here?" He chuckles giddily to himself as he grips your hips, placing you directly in front of him while he slowly slides himself into you. He loves to watch. He is a visual man this much you had learned. He spreads your cheeks apart so he can see clearly as his cock slides in and out, your wetness collecting at the base.
"I swear it gets better every time" He speeds up his movements gripping your cheeks harder as he continues to watch himself fuck into you with a look of utter satisfaction on his face. "This cunt. Somehow its perfect, does just what I want"
"Yes your grace" You feed into his need to be respected, you had learned that quite sometime ago, he wants to dominate, feel a sense of power and control that he just does not have in his every day life.
He ruts into you harder hitting that sweet spot with accuracy. He's been fucking you for years he knows your insides, probably better then you do at this point.
He brings one hand down around to your clit and rubs against it with moderate pressure.
"One more" He barks out with strained desperation. "C'mon"
As if Aegon's mere voice could command your body, you found yourself spiraling toward another release.
"Yes, your grace, as you wish!" You moan as he drills down into you gasping for air and rubbing your pearl furiously as once, again he makes you see stars, quickly changing the motion of his hand from a circle to a vigorous rub the overstimulation making your legs shake.
"Give me it, Give me it!" He commands, slamming into you with such force the posts of the bed shake. Everything around you slows down as the buzzing in your ears grows louder, and with one final screech, you give him what he wants and splash all over his hand and the quilt beneath you.
He then brings his wet hand up to your hip to hold you in place as he nearly impales you while chasing his peak, he reaches his end quickly with a snarl and as he does he pulls out and releases himself all over your backside spreading it over your cheeks and enjoying the shimmer of your skin covered in his spend as he rides out his high.
Aegon collapses down onto the bed with a laugh as you turn back to look at him.
"This is why you're here. War is stressful." He chuckles. "I won't have time to travel to that damned brothel as many times as I am going to need you."
"Need me?" You move up the bed careful to avoid the wet mess you had just left.
He gently strokes your cheek with his thumb. "Yes, I need you, and once I catch my breath, I think I'll need you again"
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devilfic · 5 months
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girl. the honeymoon series. LIVING FOR IT. this is a really like loose request, but could you do like a charity event night? not really sure what to happen but the thought of having to reallllly sell the whole marriage thing to everyone at the event is just quite interesting. thriving rn
❝honeymoon❞
IV. sugar-coating.
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parts: previously / next plot: an ex corners you, bringing up bad memories. bruce offers you super illegal catharsis. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: arranged marriage, friends to enemies to (fake) lovers, implied history between reader and bruce, angst, eventual fluff, reader has a scummy ex, bruce is allowed to be a little bit chaotic as a treat and so are you. words: 2.8k.
"So. Wayne, huh? How's that going for you?"
You laugh behind your glass, feigning innocence with a light and fluttery "What do you mean?"
Coulson is a family friend, as much yours as he is Bruce's, and even though he's the competition, he treats you and Bruce with as much respect as you could hope for in your line of work. Bonds formed in boarding school tended not to break easily, "It's just... gotta wonder what you did to make it up to him. Last I checked, you didn't even exist to him."
You swallow your champagne, just for something better to do than flinching, "Yeah, well, he found it in his heart to hear me out. Love like that doesn't really go away."
Coulson's eyes narrow for a second. He doesn't fully believe you. In an attempt to steer toward calmer waters, he elbows you in the side, "Must've learned some impressive tricks if it got that skirt-chaser to commit." But calmer didn't mean desirable.
You really don't want to discuss what you and Bruce (don't) do in the bedroom right now, so you steer the conversation a different direction, "And how is your new girlfriend, Coulson?"
He has a lot to say about her. A violinist in the Gotham City Orchestra with two degrees and a tour coming up later this year. He tells you he'll send you and Bruce tickets, tells you that one of the tour dates is in Spain and it will line up with your anniversary next year. The mention of your anniversary makes your stomach knot up a bit; the wedding was still weeks away, and you'd only just gotten on decent speaking terms with Bruce.
If anyone here knew how thin your marriage's facade was, it would be more than an embarrassment. Your mother would waterboard you in your own blood and tears.
It helped that most people didn't have a clue. Sure, there was gossip and the occasional rumor, but it was all for "fun". It never went anywhere, and any whisper that got too big for its britches could be easily stamped out with a little effort.
But Coulson? He was a friend. He'd known you a long time. If anyone were to put weight to a rumor about you and Bruce, it would be him. Which is why you couldn't let him figure you out.
"...For a while there, I swore you and Bruce weren't on speaking terms at all." Your ears catch the last bit of Coulson's rambling, right as he settles into a silent, knowing smile. "Care to catch me up on the rekindling?"
Well, you see, there's this little thing called blackmail- "When the board appointed me as acting CEO, I felt it time to reach out and make amends. It'd been years since we'd even talked, and with him so busy with his projects, we never really saw each other either. I was surprised that he even had the time, so we met up and just talked. About everything. About the company, about his work, about... what happened. It was a little while after the flood, so it just sort of lined up at the right time."
Coulson nods, impressed and seemingly unaware you'd just pulled that out of your ass, "Damn. Near-death experiences really do wonders for the heart. And now you have a wedding coming up." He catches it before you do, the micro-expression of discomfort. You swear his smile gets bigger, "What's that? Don't tell me there's trouble in paradise already?"
"No, sorry. Not trouble. Just stress. Lots of wedding planning and company business at once. I was kind of hoping to get away from it all here, focus my efforts on alleviating others' stresses." You tip your glass in the direction of the giant banner at the entrance that reads, "Hope For Homes: Housing Gotham's Youth One Helping Hand at a Time".
Coulson doesn't take his eyes off you for a second, "Had I known you were ready to settle down, I wouldn't have let Bruce beat me to it."
“I’m sorry?”
Your friend's smile doesn't waver. You feel a chill settling in your chest, a warning that he’d taken control again. You try to casually scan the crowd for Bruce but you find him in deep discussion with some business partners and your stomach twists. He’s turned, he can’t see you. You can’t call for help.
“Ah, you know,” Coulson steps forward, a friendly distance to anyone else, “saw you and Brucie together and just got to thinking about us. You remember, don’t you?” You keep a solid expression, much to his amusement, “Or was I just a step on the ladder too?”
It’s supposed to be a joke. You ought to laugh it off. You do, stiffly, pressing your sweating glass to your inner wrist to ground yourself, “We were… 17. Weren’t we?”
“The first time, yeah.”
“How could I forget?”
“You did always like Bruce better.” Coulson comes closer. He’s close enough now that anyone would think you were just two childhood friends gossiping, reminiscing on your youth and laughing all about it. Coulson keeps up a pretty smile even as your heartbeat accelerates, “Always worried about him. Always running after him. He didn’t even give you the time of day.”
You keep smiling, “He was angry. I understood-“
“Bullshit,” and he says this so loud that a few people turn and look, but with such a joyful expression that they don’t look long, “you were obsessed with the guy! Couldn’t stand the idea of him knowing what you really are.”
Your blood curdles. You know you should correct him, but your jaw is locked tight.
"That's okay. Bruce is... fickle. One day he's in love with you, the next you're a bug on a windshield. You're no bug now, are you?"
Now he's pushing it. The hand that captures your chin is lightly scented with cardamom, what should smell pleasing and sexy and disabling. It should sweep you into familiar arms, whisk you off into a whirlwind affair that gets the whole party talking. It should spark controversy. It should make you excited to ruin your mother's plans.
Your heart pangs as you remember the look on Bruce's face. Standing in the hall, one hand on the door to the library, yours and your mother's faces illuminated in flickering candlelight. You must've looked like a monster to him the way he fled-
You grab his wrist and tug, peppering a laugh in as if this is all just one big joke, "Let go."
Coulson's eyes spark alight, "I like you the way you are. You know what you want."
"I am not a gold-digger."
"But you are. Even if mommy's pulling the strings, you like being pulled. Only someone with something to gain would play along."
He'd looked at you once like you'd hung the sun in the sky, and now you were the devourer of light. You had consumed it, put out its burning devotion in one fell swoop. And then nothing. As if you were nothing before and would never be anything after. You were nothing as he told you, in no uncertain terms-
"Coulson, let go."
"I wouldn't mind, you know. Brucie is too soft for you. My girlfriend, you know, love her to death, pretends she's not in it for the money. People like that? They come into our world and think that we don't see how it changes them. How they're driven by it just like the rest of us are. She thinks she has to prove to me that she's different. You don't have to. You're committed, I respect that. But it doesn't have to be Bruce."
Your hands tremble at your sides. Almost more than you've ever wanted anything in your life, you want to give him a shiner that would put you out of high society. Your dominant hand curls into a fist, delighted by the idea.
You go to bat off the hand that touches your hip, but when your skin meets theirs, you recognize it isn't Coulson's. You feel the coolness of their ring against your sweating palm and almost sag into it, "I leave you alone for one second, and vultures descend." Bruce places a cool, gentle kiss to your temple. His lips hover there as he turns ever so slightly towards your ex. Coulson releases your chin. "Coulson. How's Lydia?"
You shouldn't delight in the way Coulson tightens up as much as you do, "Bruce! Good to see you. She's fantastic. Tour starts later this year. You lovebirds should come."
"It's a shame she couldn't make it."
"Oh, you know how it is. I'm still in good company. Right?" Coulson turns to you, winks. His smile is rigid.
When others are around, Bruce would snap back into a Wayne: all propriety and good will. You take a look at his expression and it is unreadable. There's a faint smile there, but nothing else he gives away. He is studying Coulson quite intensely though. You don't think he's blinked in a minute.
His eyes flicker down in fake-bashfulness, "I should thank you for that. You know once the board starts talking numbers, they can't stop. Not even for a good cause." Coulson nods politely along, half-listening, "You did good seeking this one out instead. I'm sure you've heard more than enough about numbers after this past month."
It was a simple statement. Most of the people in this room had been spending their days stuffed into board meetings for the end of the fiscal quarter, talking about finance, watching the stock market, money and more money... but it was the bit at the end that did it.
Coulson's eye twitches just so. He hesitates on asking but just can't help himself, "How do you mean?"
Bruce's smile takes on a patronizing color, "Oh, the boys and I were just discussing... sorry, I thought... I assumed it was public knowledge by now, forgive me." He laughs, just a touch awkward enough that it looks like he didn't mean to say anything at all. Now Coulson's smile is falling.
Even you are curious.
Coulson crosses his arms, hugging himself, "It was... a minor error reallocating funds. Nothing more. It isn't public knowledge because it's been handled. Who told you about it?"
"Has it? Been handled, I mean."
You glance between the two of them. For the first time since he'd come over, Bruce looks back at you.
Coulson clears his throat, "It has. Anyone saying otherwise must not have anything better to talk about."
Bruce hums. His mouth falls from your temple to your cheek, placing another kiss there, then another behind your ear. The hand on your hip moves to close around your neck, holding you close so not a word slips out of the space between you and him, "Let's go."
You keep your eyes on Coulson's, watching the gentle flicker between annoyance and politeness. You throw in a giggle for good measure, "Sure thing."
Bruce peels back from you, acknowledging Coulson with little more than a nod, "Good seeing you, Coulson. I'd stick around longer but I think I'm gonna steal them home, if you don't mind."
"Not at all! I envy how much you two are obsessed with each other, truly." Coulson sips his champagne and in a bitter tone, shifts his focus to you, "Think on what I said, hm?"
The nerve.
Bruce is whisking you toward the front doors without giving you a moment to respond. He kisses you more, leans into you with an arm thrown around your shoulders and a giddy smile as he sets his barely-touched champagne on a waiter's tray.
It isn't until you two are outside by the curb that you break your silence, "Thank you."
Bruce doesn't fully acknowledge you with his body, even as his arm remains slung about you, helping keep the chill of the night off you. He sends off a message for your driver, "What for?"
That was right. You'd never actually gotten to talk to Bruce about Coulson, "He... he was questioning the marriage. Questioning if you were the right fit for me. Saying that maybe I'd be better off with someone who understands me," you grit the next part out, "the real me."
"And?"
You look at him. He's watching cars pass as your eyes prick with tears. "I don't think he understands me at all. He never did."
He appraises you out of the corner of his eye, "Could've told you that years ago."
"You wouldn't even give me the time of day four months ago."
You've got him there. You're shocked to find that he isn't annoyed, or defensive, or even ignoring you. He sucks his teeth and shrugs. Presses the bottom of his shoe into an old cigarette on the sidewalk, snuffing out a flame that had died a long time ago. "You were going to hit him. I saw you." You feel heat crawl up your neck as you remember. "I don't know what he said, but he would've deserved it."
"I... couldn't. You know I couldn't."
Bruce turns up his nose as if he's smelled something foul, "It would've felt good, though."
"Yes."
The two of you wait there, just wobbling in the wind, watching cars go by as music and chatter and people flutter out of the ballroom behind you. You don't know what you're waiting for, but you can indulge yourself once in a while. If Bruce wants to stand on the street with his arm around you doing nothing, then maybe you ought to take the time to do nothing.
A few minutes pass before Bruce releases you, nodding for you to follow him up the street. You do, even confused.
He stops right in front of a bright red convertible, a shiny and expensive thing, parked just far enough out of the way that the music is fainter here. "C'mere," Bruce instructs, walking around the front of the sports car, and you follow him, watching your step lest you fall prey to a puddle, "hold this."
He removes the handkerchief from his front suit pocket and lays it over your open palm, much to your bewilderment. Then, reaching into the inside of his jacket, he drops a batarang into your hand.
"Bruce-!" You instinctively close your hand around the thing to hide it, thankful that his handkerchief kept you from slicing your palm open, "what are you-"
"One tire is a spare. Two is a tow."
"Have you been drinking? Like actually?"
You're startled by the grin he gives you, "If we stand here all night, someone'll catch us."
You go to argue when you recognize something hanging from the car's rear view mirror. A pair of dingy, fuzzy dice. Dice you've seen before in older, just as expensive cars. This is Coulson's car.
You grab Bruce by the arm and turn him to you, "Are you insane?"
"It's better than punching him."
The batarang weighing in your hand feels a little lighter at that.
"Couldn’t stand the idea of him knowing what you really are.”
Who Coulson thought you were wouldn't slash the tires of a backup option. They'd be nice, wait it out, play the game for maximum benefit. Jump ship at the first sign of trouble. They wouldn't risk making enemies. They'd let their mother keep pulling their strings.
You sink the batarang into the first tire's sidewall sharp and quick. If Bruce is curious as to how you know how to slash tires, he doesn't ask. He moves beside you and blocks onlookers from seeing what you're doing. When you move onto the next, the entire left side of the car is beginning to sink toward the ground.
Bruce confiscates the batarang from you and quickly tucks it back into his suit pocket, calmly walking you back down the street to where your ride is waiting.
As he is holding the back door open for you, you turn to look up at him and find your breath catching at the still present grin on his face. You haven't seen him this happy to be alone in your presence in a while. It feels... familiar. He meets your eyes and you're reminded of a younger you. A you that could kiss Bruce with all the bubbling adrenaline in your veins. A Bruce that would let you. A Bruce that thought you hung the sun in the sky.
That grin of his softens but doesn't fully go anywhere. You drink it all in. You don't know when you'll see it again.
Bruce touches the small of your back as a taxi whips by, driving cool air up into your faces and breaking the moment. You indulge in the touch for as long as he lets you.
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quinton-reviews · 8 months
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Hi Quinton!! I have been a HUGE fan of your stuff since a friend sent me the Tobuscus Fallen Titans (I used to watch him back in high school and was like "huh, wonder what happened to him after those allegations") and I gotta say, it is REALLY FUNNY every time my fiancé and I watch the iCarly videos again, because when you cover Gibby's stunt double breaking his ribs, you cut to a clip of The Official Podcast. I used to play D&D with one of the main dudes from the podcast, so when he talks during that clip I do a goddamn double take literally every time.
Anyways, I remember an original Patreon stretch goal being a Fallen Titans on Homestuck! I was really big into Homestuck in my early 20s, and was wondering if that's still on the table at some point? If not that's fine, I understand plans change! I just love Fallen Titans lol, the Fred episode and the Neil Cicierega unFallen Titans are some of my favorite videos of yours!
That's a real funny story!
So here's the rundown on the Homestuck video. When I first started making long videos, they were actually inspired by the relationship I had with other YouTubers at the time. I used to watch, like, H3H3 and Filthy Frank, etc; and I'd always see people obsessed with the versions of creators from the past. Like, "Oh 2015 H3 was the best" and "Oh 2012 Frank was peak." So I had this idea that it would be crazy if H3 posted, like, a video he spent a decade on and you got a new video with 2015 H3 10 years on. (I don't watch H3 anymore ironically)
So the original idea for the "long video" format was that it would be cool if, throughout a long, analysis/review/recap video, you kept noticing someone get older. Maybe my months, maybe by years. That's why I always like to get a haircut when I start one of these videos. If you scrub through and you see my hair get longer and messier as it goes on I think that adds something magical you can't fake.
So... My pitch to the Homestuck video was that it would be funny to work on it just once per year. To record one segment, say "That's it for 12 months", and then come back around to it. And when I was making the iCarly and Victorious videos I actually recorded a few minutes of the video! I think it was two segments in total. But then I had a bunch of personal stuff happen and my work drive has been much lower, so any "back burner" video hasn't gotten much attention since then.
Now that the iCarly mini-series is done with, I want to focus on some short one-off videos I can make before April. But once that's done with, I would REALLY love to start work on a few more long-term projects which will take months or years to finish. I think returning to work on the Homestuck video, to at least get the first 20-30 minutes done, would be a great idea this summer.
Now, if you want to know my pitch for that video, here it is. The video is not a recap of the creative history of the franchise. I do not get into drama, community hell, lawsuits, or other YouTubers. My idea is this: you always hear about Homestuck as an outsider but you never hear about the actual content. Most franchises on Earth I know something about, even and especially if I've never been interested in them. I can tell you a bunch of facts about wrestling and MLP and the Fast and the Furious simply through cultural osmosis and having friends who are into those things.
I can't tell you the plot of Homestuck, who the characters are, what the themes are, nothing. I've known a lot of people who were into Homestuck but nothing about the series!
So I thought it would thus be funny to make a video about a bunch of people who know nothing about the series starting from the beginning and giving their reactions, even if it's been years since it all started. I call this part of the video the "Homestuck Book Club." So the next step is me picking out the members (who all have to have no history with it) and making sort of a podcast setup. We'd then read and record every six months or so, IDK.
This is why the video has been stuck in production hell! Everyone who wants to work on it and messages me about it already knows the franchise. I don't want spoilers, I don't want people writing for the video who get it already. I want to capture the "what the fuck is this" energy of three dudes just getting in the middle of it.
Also, I think that I really like the theme of the video capturing our lives as they go by, capturing us aging and changing. If you came back from the future and told me this video comes out in five years, I'd say great. If you told me it comes out in ten years, I'd say awesome. Until then, the latest edit will always be on Patreon, even if you have to dig a little.
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vidavalor · 26 days
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Hello!
Do you have any theory on how S3 could start ?
Hi there. 💕 Thanks for the ask. Please help yourself to anything in the kitchen. I made this watermelon pasta salad with basil, burrata & blueberries, if you're interested. 😊 Yeah, I've got some ideas for the start of S3...
Wait until I tell you that I don't think looking at The Final 15 is the only place to see how S2 ended and how S3 might start but that the spot is actually... the beginning of the S1 finale?! Specifically, the positioning in the episode of this scene here:
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To see where I'm going with this, we have to look at the timeline around Armageddon in the first two seasons.
In S1, our main characters know in their storyline in the present that Armageddon is imminent and, in that main storyline, the action is based around them trying to prevent it from happening, right? As we follow them on this journey, we are given little cue cards in the present-- just as we are in the past-- to identify when the scenes we are watching are taking place in time. In doing this, it's made very, very clear that we are watching the last days and hours until Armageddon was supposed to take place. During the story in S1, we know what day we're on the whole time.
S1 takes us smoothly from Monday through Sunday of the last week of the world, with the end of the world averted on Saturday, yes?
In the mirrored S2, though?
The most noticeable absence in the entire season is the time-marking cue cards. We still are told time when it comes to the flashbacks but the cue cards in the present are gone and the present time is only shown to us in terms of characters mentioning what day it is or the audience noting when a day changes.
At first, none of this seems to matter that much because we mistakenly think the stakes are not the same. In the S2 finale, though, we learn that we've actually been watching Round Two of the last week of the world.
Worse, Armageddon is different this time around as it's The Second Coming. It doesn't need eleven years to percolate. It's happening now. Suddenly, what day of the week it is in 2.06 in a show with this much mirrored storytelling seems a lot more relevant.
If we then go back and look at S2 with the idea of a timeline for its story in the present in mind, we might notice a whole bunch of scenes that mention that The Meeting Ball takes place on Thursday night. Two scenes even mention that it takes place beginning at 6:30pm. Just with this one point on a timeline alone, we can go back and look at the rest of the week that happened before it and realize that Gabriel arrived at the bookshop on Monday morning. S2 begins on the same day of the last week of the world that S1 began with. The timeline for the events between Gabriel's arrival on Monday morning and The Meeting Ball on Thursday night hold up perfectly. The last parts of 2.06 are taking place the morning after The Meeting Ball-- around the 7am hour on Friday morning.
So, if we're now in another round of Monday through Sunday storytelling of the last week of the world like we were in S1? Then, we haven't gotten all the way through that story with S2 because 2.06 ends very early on Friday morning. We're missing the pivotal day-- Saturday-- and the fallout/resolution day of Sunday.
S2 stops the story just shy of the last day of the world.
Like its paralleling (if also very different) bandstand breakup scene, The Final 15 takes place on Friday and we've yet to get into any Saturday Morning Funtime and the whole plot about the last day of the world in S2. To me? That makes it seem likely that S3 involves the weekend of the week we were watching in S2.
But, wait, I can hear you saying... don't we need a big time jump?
Don't we need months or years to go by with Aziraphale trying to hold back Armageddon while he works as the Supreme Archangel of Heaven? Isn't Crowley going to require at least a decade of drinking before the plot can resume?
In my opinion? Not really...
If you think that Aziraphale is The Supreme Archangel, you're probably more inclined to think that a decent chunk of time is going to elapse between the seasons. I've never actually thought that's the plot which is why I'm looking at this differently.
I don't see where The Metatron would ever, in a million years, let a demon be seen as an angel again because that would collapse his regime and take all his power. If Heaven were to say they fucked up and made a mistake with Crowley and make him an angel again, every single demon would challenge their own cases with Heaven and Heaven's ability to be seen as perfect and holy and infallible amongst the angels-- let alone the demons-- would be destroyed. It would be inviting a revolution. Something like this will happen in S3 in that they're going to overthrow The Metatron but it won't be because The Metatron let it happen in S2.
However, a perfect temptation for Aziraphale from Satan's perspective is Crowley's safety in a way that Aziraphale himself feels like he cannot fully provide. Since you're asking me for a theory, you might have seen other posts I wrote about how I believe that, in The Final 15, Derek Jacobi is playing Satan who is appearing to Aziraphale as The Metatron. The reason why Satan would need to appear as The Metatron is because The Metatron is the only person that Aziraphale believes could give him the power to restore Crowley's status as an angel in Heaven, which is what Aziraphale thinks needs to happen for Crowley to be safe. It's not the right path to take with this but it's easy to see why Aziraphale would want to stop pain for Crowley and why that would be the only thing that Satan could ever use to tempt him, right?
Not to mention that The Metatron is not about to put the angel that rebelled against Armageddon: Round One in charge of Armageddon: Round Two. He doesn't want free-thinkers or change. He wants someone to do his bidding and help him maintain power. Aziraphale stands in the way of him and Satan getting their Armageddon on.
Meanwhile, the most pivotal flashback in S2-- and maybe the series as a whole so far-- is the Job minisode and what happens in it? Hell did Heaven's punishing for them. And what are we told to remember by writer-stand-in character Furfur in his only real line of dialogue in the group scenes in 2.06?
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The suggestion is then pretty heavily that all of the Hell references and plots in S2's flashbacks are leading towards the end of S2 being Aziraphale's fall. He's not actually being offered a job by The Metatron. He's being tempted by Satan and the job offer that comes with an apparent guarantee of Crowley's safety is the temptation.
Alright, so, let's say that's the story then and that Aziraphale getting into the elevator with Satan sets up Aziraphale's fall. It's here that we have to go further back to the start of 1.06 and see what I mean about how that can affect the start of S3.
Just like the end of S2, 1.06 begins with a scene that we think we understand the first time we see it... but will later learn we wrong about because we didn't question our perception over who it is that we were looking at.
*pause* Sounds relevant to this idea that who we think is The Metatron is really Satan, right? 😉
It's an unusual scene for Good Omens and its existence to me suggests that we might be about to get something similar to it somewhere very early on in 3.01. The difference is that everyone basically is fooled by the opening shot of 1.06 because we haven't yet had a single clue about the body swap plot and nothing like it had happened at that point in the story yet whereas the 2.06 paralleling twist is a bit more noticeable if you're looking for it-- mainly because we now know to look in the first place, when we didn't so much in 1.06.
If you recall, 1.06 opens with a flashforward-- the show's first-- in which what we think is happening is that Crowley is being escorted in handcuffs into Hell. He's brought to Beez in the bathtub room, who explains that he's about to stand trial. The scene begins with a shot of who we believe to be Crowley coming down the hallway into the room, having just gotten off the elevator.
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While a lot of scenes stripe alternating light and darkness over the characters faces, the fact that the most significant elevator moment related to Crowley and Aziraphale prior to the end of 2.06 is this scene at the start of 1.06 that also holds on who we think is Crowley but is really Aziraphale for a long time as the light/dark stripes over him... and that this scene in 1.06 is intentionally deceptive about what's happening and how that is being presented to the audience... just like, imo, the end of 2.06... all of that makes them paralleling, mirrored scenes to one another.
So, the parallel scene to the elevator in 2.06 is that time that Aziraphale went to Hell back in 1.06, further suggesting the idea that that's really what is going to end up happening as a result of the end of 2.06.
But the real kicker is how the 1.06 scene ends.
The first time you watch it, you think that you are watching Crowley the entire time because you don't yet know about the body swap plot that is coming later in the episode for which this is a flash forward. Crowley might seem slightly off if you're looking closely but you chalk it up to nervousness and it is not, on first watch, enough to really garner the audience's attention. Nothing prior to this in the story has existed where one character is appearing to be another, really, so we aren't predisposed to think about that as an option.
As the episode continues and we approach the body swap plot, we have a series of scenes that result in clues that allow some of the audience to figure it out before it's revealed in full what's happened. Even if you don't notice these things, once Crowley and Aziraphale both survive hellfire and holy water, you've begun to put together that they've swapped and, if you still haven't after it's over, there's the scene where the show just tells you that's what happened and shows them swapping back:
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Because this plot existed in S1, the audience is more inclined to look for something like it in S2 and, because the show is doing a lot of mirrored storytelling, the idea that Crowley and Aziraphale fooled the antagonists by appearing to be one another in S1 makes the idea that the antagonists who were fooled-- Satan and The Metatron-- teaming up against them and winning a battle (not the war but a battle) by one of them (Satan) taking on the appearance of the other (The Metatron) is... kinda delicious, actually 😂... and one of the reasons why I think this is what is happening in S2 that leads into S3.
Back in the scene that starts 1.06, though, wherein "Crowley" arrives in Hell? We can easily be forgiven for thinking that we are looking at Crowley and that we understand what's happening, even if we haven't seen what led up to it yet. What's genius about the scene is really two things: the fact that, upon rewatch, it is so evident to us that this is really Aziraphale and not Crowley, even if he's doing a very great imitation of Crowley... which is such a magic trick, really, and a fantastic bit of acting... but also the very last line of dialogue in the scene.
"Crowley" looks at Beez, Hastur and Dagon and says:
"Guys. What appears to be the problem?"
This line is almost not even heard by the audience. We think this is Crowley on first watch so it sounds like more of his smartass humor to a point that we don't really hear it. Immediately after this, we get the VHS rewind effect that runs through the rest of the episode and takes us back to the moment that Crowley arrives in the burning Bentley at Tadfield Air Force Base. We "press play" on that and the episode starts in earnest. Within seconds, we've forgotten about this line and the question it asked us.
When you rewatch, this line and its impish delivery-- Aziraphale in there, having a ball trolling the demons who don't know who really stands in front of them-- is one of the highlights of the episode. It's asking a question, though, that we might want to ask about its parallel scene in 2.06 as well:
"What appears to be the problem?"
We think we know that Aziraphale is going to Heaven to be the Supreme Archangel and that the being in the elevator with him is The Metatron. We think we know what the problem is. As the paralleling 1.06 scene showed us, if we take what we're seeing only as it might appear on the surface, we likely have it backwards.
There's a body swap, of sorts, happening-- it's not The Metatron, it's Satan. In 1.06's start, we thought we were watching Crowley arrive in his home territory of Hell in trouble but we were really watching Aziraphale in Hell. In 2.06's end, we think we're watching Aziraphale about to go to his home territory of Heaven as the new boss but we're really about to watch the bit of this mirror that will hold: Aziraphale winding up in Hell as a result.
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I think we might see a scene early in 3.01 that is like the 1.06 opening but which picks up with Aziraphale arriving in Heaven and being brought to... The Metatron. The actual, floating head Metatron and likely some of the other angels in a parallel to Hastur & Dagon in the 1.06 scene. Instead of the holy water situation, though, it's Aziraphale's fall. The audience will be confused at first as to why Aziraphale is considered a traitor and not the new Supreme Archangel, which is when the show might rewind-- literally, as it did visually in 1.06-- but this time back through stuff we've already seen: The Final 15 back through until the bookshop attack-- and drop us back somewhere around "I think I might have just started a war" after Aziraphale blew up his halo. Why there?
Because of this extremely important bit of Aziraphale dialogue in 2.06 right here:
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Aziraphale tells whom he's been told is The Metatron that he doesn't think they need to have a chinwag because there isn't anything left to be said and he's made his position "quite clear." In other words?
Aziraphale told off The Metatron.
Excellent news! When the fuck did that happen? lol Clearly in a scene we haven't seen yet. It's one that is so important, though, that we will need to see it in S3.
Notice how everything was left lining up perfectly for Aziraphale to have spoken with The Metatron very soon after he blew up his halo. When Aziraphale opened up the circle, he literally asked if anyone was there. All of this is calling back to how he summoned The Metatron in S1. He then discorporated a bunch of demons with the circle. The circle was still open when Aziraphale blew up his halo. There is no way that all of that didn't get the attention of The Metatron.
So, The Metatron got on the little Heavenly Zoom feature of the circle and started losing it on Aziraphale, who had had enough. Aziraphale lost it right back on The Metatron and told him that he was done being an angel and dealing with all of this ridiculousness. He more or less told The Metatron that if he wanted to use the circle to discorporate some demons or blow up his halo if he felt like it, he was damn well going to do so because it's his mind the halo is crushing and his bookshop and he and this shop are independent from Heaven.
So, The Metatron didn't take all of that well and told Satan that Aziraphale was fair game and that's how near the start of S3 we are going to see Aziraphale be tossed to Hell by The Metatron upon his arrival in Heaven. Heaven will likely take his memories but Aziraphale won't spent the whole of S3 without them. Just until not long after he reunites with Crowley, which will likely happen faster than some people think it might.
I'm pretty sure that The Bentley was made into an unintentional fly while Aziraphale was driving it in S2 so, basically, I think Crowley and Aziraphale will fall ass-backwards into discovering that if Aziraphale gets into the car, he's probably going to get his memories back... which, I'm realizing as I'm typing this, is a pretty funny mirror of the immediate aftermath of The Final 15-paralleling bandstand breakup, isn't it? 😂
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I'm basically saying that I think that S3's storyline in the present is the missing weekend of the last week of the end of the world that S2 began showing us. I could be wrong but I'm pretty sure that the time jump between the seasons is virtually non-existent.
I also wouldn't be surprised if The Ancient Times Vavoom isn't pretty early on in the story... possibly the very first scene of 3.01. Dropping that as the start of S3 would be wild after 2.06 and that is kind of why I think they just might.
One thing I noticed is that the very beginning scenes-- Eden and Before the Beginning-- are both beginning each season's story with an aspect of a first in Crowley & Aziraphale's story that also ends with a canopy element, in the sense that they're protecting each other from rain or celestial rain with a wing to end both scenes. If S3 holds that pattern and opens 3.01 with a flashback that parallels Eden and Before the Beginning, I think the thing that would fit that the most is their first kiss-- with the canopy this time being not one of them sheltering the other from a form of rain with a wing but both of them sheltering together from rain under a tree canopy.
S3 has to have a happy ending which I think means that they need to more or less eliminate the threat of Armageddon. The only way to do that is to free the angels and demons from The Metatron and Satan and give them the opportunities to start living their own lives and learning what it is to live in the first place. I think Aziraphale's fall is what sets that into motion because Crowley and Gabriel and everyone else will never accept it. It will begin a real challenge of The Metatron's power because Aziraphale is the bridge too far.
If The Metatron says that Aziraphale is a demon then The Metatron is suddenly going to have a lot of people who are just not going to believe that. A lot of people who have been having their own identities defined by The Metatron and allowing him power over how they see themselves and who now are going to realize as a result just how wrong Heaven can be about this. A lot of people who are going to start pushing back on Heaven and challenging Aziraphale's status.
What happens when Crowley and Gabriel and the angels and demons on their side go to The Metatron and demand to speak directly to God?
What happens when they realize that The Metatron can't meet that demand because God doesn't have dominion over The Universe-- Her creations do?
Aziraphale falling is ultimately what can expose The Metatron as a fraud, cause the angels and demons to realize that the demons weren't judged by God-- they were targeted and harmed by an evil angel who used the idea that he could speak on behalf of God to manipulate them.
Aziraphale falling is what can lead to a democratization of Heaven and destroy Hell because the idea of a demon is something The Metatron made up to control the angels. The demons are all just tortured angels and the angels are just like the humans-- most of them neither perfectly good or perfectly evil. Just people.
The only way to get to the South Downs Cottage ending is through Aziraphale's fall because the, well, fallout lol, of that is that it will break the system of Heaven and Hell, which is necessary for peace. So, yeah, that's why I think the jumping off point of S3 is showing the audience that Aziraphale has fallen, having the other characters learn that, and that being the beginning of the end for Satan and The Metatron.
After all, we're still waiting for the pay off of the end of the later body swap scene in S1...
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jina1028 · 6 months
Text
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Safe Place
Park Jisung x fem!reader
Categories: idol Jisung, older reader (mention of 'noona' once), kissing, making out, marking, oral (m rec), unprotected sex (don't do it irl), creampie, cuddling, really slight dom/sub dynamics (?)
A.N. reader being older is not essential to the plot (what plot?), so if you want just ignore it since it's just randomly mentioned once.
To me the term 'noona' is just a nice way for a younger man to address a woman they're comfortable with, there's no sexual connotation and in this case is justified by the fact the story takes place in Korea. I just thought Jisung would feel nice having someone older to take care of him, hence the little mention.
Plus I'd like older readers to feel more included just adding that little word, if you're uncomfortable or doesn't apply to you just change it with 'y/n' I guess.
Note that english is not my first language.
Enjoy~
~♡~
Your phone suddenly made a dinging sound, letting you know you received a message, making you stop on your tracks while you got up from the sofa to get some water. The sound repeated a couple times. You let out a sigh before reading the name of the person who interrupted your plans and opened the message with newfound interest:
Jisung P.
'Y/n'
'Are you free right now?'
'If you're busy it's ok, I don't want to disturb'
You smiled, you found him so cute when he sent those shy messages, imagining him gnawing on his lips while staring at his phone screen, instant regret on his features thinking he's somehow annoying you, even though you reassured him before that he can message you whenever.
You start typing, unknowingly making him jolt with surprise and apprehension when he sees the dots on his screen.
You
'I'm free'
'Wanna come over?'
Jisung P.
'Can I?'
'I'll just make a quick stop at the dorm to wash up'
You
'Sure, let me know when you're downstairs'
He sent you a little thumbs up emoji and you started to make yourself as pretty as possible. When Jisung asked for your attention it meant he needed to be taken care of, and those times you wanted to spoil him by looking the best for him. So you put on some cute, soft make up and wore your lilac, lacey lingerie, then hid it under some simple sweats and t-shirt to surprise him more when you would strip.
In an hour he was at your door, you let him in examining his tall figure, hiding his face under a black mask and hoodie, dark hair almost covering his eyes.
You greeted him "Jisung! Everything ok coming here? No one followed you, right?"
"Yeah, there were a couple of sasaeng outside the company building but they couldn't follow me much in the traffic, we're good."
You led him to the sofa, letting him sit down while he yanked his mask off and let his head rest on the cushions on the back, exhaling a nervous breath. You brought some water and snacks and sat down on the other side of the sofa facing him.
"What were you doing before coming? Did something happen? You seem nervous."
"Do I?" he chuckled "I was at dance practice. It was stressful, I had a little argument about some moves and changes in the choreo. I'm not satisfied, the comeback is approaching and I feel like where we're at right now is not enough, I don't know..."
He started telling you about his concerns and you let him talk, quietly listening and occasionally humming letting him know you were paying attention.
"Sorry, I guess I'm just rambling, didn't mean to bother you" he interrupted his monologue, looking over at you with apologetic eyes.
"No, it's fine, I like when you open up to me! You know you can tell me anything, I'm not the type of person to judge."
He smiled at you, soon breaking eye contact and sheepishly thanking you.
After a moment of silence you scooted closer to him, the movement making him shift his attention from the palms of his hands to your face, unconciously looking at your lips, then back to your eyes when he caught himself staring.
"Jisung, why, of all people, did you call me so urgently tonight? Tell me."
The boy fidgeted with his hands, biting a little on his lower lip while you rested your hand on his shoulder.
"I missed you... I need you."
You closed the distance between your faces until your lips slightly brushed. You wanted to test how much he was desperate this time: enough to ignore his own shyness and press his round lips to yours with an almost inaudible whine.
Your hands flew to his hair, making a mess of it with your fingers stroking and pulling his locks, while his large ones grasped your waist. Your teeth pulled on his bottom lip and a swipe of your tongue soothed it while Jisung eagerly opened his mouth to chase it with his own, tangling them, wet sounds filling your ears.
You pushed him against the back of the sofa to straddle him, experimentally rolling your hips once on his lap, earning a small groan and feeling his member getting hard against your crotch. You started rolling, picking up a slow, comfortable rhythm. His hands grabbing at whatever he could to try and ground himself, while your lips left his mouth to place wet kisses along his jaw and his throat and neck, nibbling at his side when he let out a low moan.
"Stop it-" he was interrupted by his own gasp "you'll leave a mark like that" he struggled to end his sentence between soft hisses and gasps.
"Just tell your stylists to put make up or a band-aid on it" you replied making him snort.
"That's what I told them last time, had to tell everyone I had a bruise."
You suckled some more before gliding your tongue on the purplish mark you just made.
"Well, technically that wasn't a lie."
You detached from his neck to admire the state he was in and you almost purred at the sight: disheveled hair, glossy half lidded eyes, wet, pink, puffy lips, a soft shade of pink dusting his cheeks and a darker one on the left side of his neck.
You took a mental pic. "So pretty" you complimented, making him smile and blush more.
You smiled back and took the opportunity of this little break to get up and take his hand to guide him to your room. You pushed him down on the mattress.
"Let's get rid of some clothes" you suggested, standing in front of him, slowly raising your t-shirt to reveal your lilac bra, watching his reaction as he seemingly stopped breathing. He only let out his breath when you finally removed your pants as well.
You smirked "I'm not getting on the bed until you strip down too" arms crossed as you watch him scurry to satisfy your simple request, your eyes traveling on his slim body, reaching him and stopping his hands when they came to his boxers.
You gently pushed him to sit in the middle of the bed and slid his boxers down yourself while he timidly rised his hips to help you.
"Now relax, baby, leave everything to me."
Jisung whined at the use of that little nickname and let his head plop on the pillow, closing his eyes, waiting for your next move, for you to take care of him.
You reached up to his lips for a chaste kiss, leaving a trail down his neck, chest, stomach, feeling every rise and fall of his breath, every tremble and shiver, every little gasp until you reached his erection, stiff against his stomach, so big it reached his navel.
You grazed it with your fingers, tracing every vein up and down a few times, savoring his little hisses every time you reached the underside of his tip, swollen and red, and finally circled it with your fist, not being able to close your fingers around it because of the size.
You started stroking it slowly and languidly, paying attention to every little reaction, then you approached with your mouth, lightly fanning your hot breath over it and observing the way he shivered at the sensation, soon taking a lick on the tip to elicit a moan out of him.
You loved to hear his voice, you found it so sexy, so you used every tactic you knew to make him produce any sounds, his voice going straight from your ears to your pussy every time.
You started a nice pace, licking and sucking, taking as much as you could in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head, circling what you couldn't reach with your hand and building up the rhythm based on his reactions.
You tried your best to keep your pace and look up at him, he was too pretty like this, face blushing, eyes squeezed shut, nose occasionally scrunching, so cute, lips parted, red, swollen from all the kissing and his own biting, letting out the most beautiful sounds, his shyness even now urging him to keep quiet but failing for the most part. And the dark mark you painted on his neck.
You kept sucking and pumping, tasting his salty precum, oozing out of the tip with every suck and every twist of your fist.
You could tell he was close when he started slightly humping his hips to meet your mouth, a hand snaking at the back of your head, resting in your hair, still not wanting to hurt you by forcing you on him despite you devouring him like a starved woman. So polite.
With a last suck you popped his cock out of your mouth, a whine leaving his own.
"Not yet, baby" you gently warned him, you were still not over. You climbed up his legs and straddled him once again, stroking your still clothed pussy on his length, the drenched fabric of your lace panties adding to the sensation.
Jisung's hands flew to your hips, helping you rub your clit on his shaft, his eyes wandering from your face, to your nipples peaking through your bra, to his cock appearing and disappearing beneath your swollen pussy, back up to your eyes again.
"Y/n, please, I'm close."
"Alright, hold on a little bit more, mh?" you caressed his cheek. With one hand you moved your panties to the side and with the other you spread his precum on his cock to lubricate it and aligned his tip with your hole to slowly sink down, biting your lips at the stretch. After a few moments of stillness and heavy breathing filling the room you started rocking your hips on his, wet sounds and low moans and grunts bringing you slowly but inevitably to your orgasm.
Your clenching signaled him you were close so he grabbed your hips and started pistoning up into you, hitting your sweet spot hard with each thrust, eliciting choked moans and little squeals from you.
Jisung was so lost in the feeling of your wet, hot pussy engulfing him, squeezing him, swallowing him, that he lost it the moment you reached your high with a whine and without a single thought in his head he came hard, spilling his hot, white seed inside of your clenching pussy. He kept shallowly rolling his hips in yours as he came down, little moans and gasps finding their way to your ears. He was ecstatic.
You kissed him slowly and finally you both stilled, then it hit him: this was the first time he came inside of you, the first creampie in general, actually. Wasn't this supposed to be something really intimate? Did you expect him to pull out like the other times? He guessed so, what if you got angry? Was he worthy, for you, of cumming in your pussy? He just knew he loved it and the possessive feeling that came with it, he was yours and viceversa.
He finally voiced his worries, "Noona, I'm sorry, I didn't warn you" his voice was low, his eyes looking up at yours with knitted eyebrows, silently pleading for you to not turn away from him for his mistake, as much as he would've liked to do it again and again.
You smiled, reassuring him, "Jisung, if I didn't want you to come inside I would've told you to wear a condom, right? Come here" you said softly, inviting him in your arms. Jisung slid his hands around your waist and used his weight to push you on your back, resting his head on your chest, inhaling deeply the sweet, fruity scent of your perfume mixed with your own. You started stroking his soft hair, relishing the feeling of his big hands pressing on your back, his breath on your skin, his lashes tickling you while his eyes fluttered shut.
"Stop worrying when you're with me, you know I'm your safe place."
Jisung already started dozing off listening to your heartbeat, but still managed to say one more thing before letting your soothing caresses lull him to sleep:
"I know."
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utilitycaster · 15 days
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You mentioned it briefly a few months ago (but it lives rent free in my head sorry!) that the most popular ship from this campaign has almost only AU fanfics and it's really telling me something about the characters from c3, that there is just really nothing to explore about them.
So here's the thing. I do not think the characters aren't worth exploring! There's been good character work (a lot of which gets ignored, actually, because it's not what many of the people who insist that C3 is their favorite as they slowly turn into a corncob want*; see basically anyone on Twitter about Orym), it's just not central to the plot.
I stand by what I originally said and which was validated at a recent Q&A panel: the cast wasn't told that this was going to be the Moon Plot Campaign (they were just told pulpier and deadlier) and Laura wasn't told that Imogen would be as central a character as she was. So I think we have characters who could have, for the most part, had a character-driven campaign around them, but it became clear relatively early on that this was the Moon Plot campaign and that wouldn't be the focus; and because to get all of his ducks in a row for the Moon Plot Matt had to take a heavier hand with the rails and as a result the party didn't have a ton of bonding time early on because they were always taking NPC missions/being ferried around in an airship with no need for watch conversations, and it's hard to go back and fill in those interactions later, which is why they've sort of fallen out of the habit.
With respect to the ship...the thing is, I genuinely believe it could have been good. The reason I'm not a fan of imo/dna isn't because I think the characters aren't good (well, my feelings on Laudna are documented but I do think Imogen is a great character). It's because, ironically enough, every barrier between them did get removed all too quickly in the service of Cottage Endgame and as a result I think many of the people who wanted that are like "wait...that's it?" Like, the gnarlrock fight fizzled out only for the same conflict to come up briefly with Ishta (swordgate) 70 episodes later and be resolved a day later in-game. When they reunited I was like you know what would have made this good? If Laudna had remained angry in episode 65 and turned Imogen down which Laura 100% expected to happen, because they hadn't talked about this and they were awkwardly trying to deal with unresolved feelings for 30+ episodes and perhaps Laudna actually leaned into Delilah wholeheartedly during that time and realized she had feelings for Imogen after all, while Imogen was simultaneously struggling with that rejection and realizing Laudna was going into a dark place but didn't feel like she could get involved, and they both leaned more (platonically) on other characters and Swordgate was the point where Laudna said "oh no, I'm becoming too much of a problem and I do want Imogen to like me" and the soul anchor felt like a culmination of a deeply felt struggle instead of a quick fix for something that had only inconvenienced her a few times and led to a 20 hour long minor spat at best? If we actually got a fucking slowburn? It would have been great! Turns out if you always go for the instant gratification, it makes for a story without any tension! And now we're watching people who were always clamoring for skipping to the good part realizing that in doing so we skipped all the buildup that makes it the good part. There could have been something to explore. It was not explored.
*I think that there are people who for whatever reason do legitimately prefer Campaign 3 for whatever reasons and are in earnest and this isn't about them. While I don't share their tastes I support them and their feelings; we all have our preferences. This is about the people who are already visibly setting up the groundwork for a dramatic rage quit that will make copious, wildly incorrect use of the term "neoliberal" if the campaign ends with the gods still in place while still insisting this is definitely the best campaign and making absolutely brainless statements about prior campaigns not being as political even though this is the least politically inclined or aware group by a country mile. I think the lesson from the above and from here is that you really cannot have your cake and eat it too.
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raayllum · 2 months
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what's the worst that can happen
Going into s6, we know it's the show's 11th hour in a lot of ways. I expect the mid-point of S7 will also have some terrible shit happening, don't get me wrong, but going into S6, there's a lot of things that are probably going to happen and here's some of 'em, and then we can check back here in two weeks and see what was shaken out!
Janai loses her kingdom. This would be especially devastating because 1) Janai has called for reinforcements through both Ezran and Aanya, and 2) it means Kim'Dael could be freed as well. I'm not expecting this to be the end of the plot line either per se (Sol Regem + Pharos corruption sleeper agent infecting more Sunfire elves)
Aanya dies. We know that Aanya has an older adoptive brother, and I've been wondering for a while on why to give her one in the first place. The most obvious reasons would be for him to provide her with a confidant (perhaps some Aanya angst or uncertainty) and as a parallel to the broyals. The other most obvious reason would be for her or her brother to die, thereby leaving the other alone; if Aanya dies as well, he would also inherit the throne, and this would possibly leave Ezran with a weakened or non-existent ally as well.
Katolis falls. Katolis has been a safe base and starting point throughout arc 2. We also know Ezran is staying behind there in early S6 and that Claudia, at some point alongside Terry, makes her way to the Valley of Graves in Katolis as well for some kind of spell. If Katolis fell, and Ezran and co. had to leave (maybe with the castle under siege, and a character like Opeli also dying), this would be a big blow to the status quo as well as for Ezran's character to deal with.
The quasar diamonds don't work. One is missing, or the Star magic isn't enough because of the nature of the coins. This doesn't mean the Moon fam + Kpp'Ar doesn't get out, per se, but that more creative solutions (dark magic, a quasar diamond substitute) have to added in order to have a real shot at releasing them. Alternatively: the quasar diamond star magic is all that's needed, but it leads to disaster such as the possession.
Aaravos takes the Nova Blade. Big bad who is notoriously angry at other Startouch elves, and the sword that just happens to be the main thing that can kill Startouch elves? Yeah, it's a recipe for disaster in terms of "collecting mega dangerous objects that Aaravos could have a reasonable vested interest in" and a classic "the tool you hunt down to use on your enemy is then used against you" (perhaps literally, if Callum and/or Rayla are also stabbed with it).
Callum is possessed. This is a matter of when, not if. There are a few different orders this could go through, the most dramatic probably being either escalated choices Callum makes or random happenstance leading to his possession, Aaravos isn't out yet, Rayla refuses to hurt him despite everything being on the line, Callum stabs her (with the Nova Blade?) but snaps out of it, and sets Aaravos free in order to keep her alive. I could also very much see Aaravos being released and then Callum being possessed if they want to go full throttle on the "possession is a kind of death (you chose)" deal.
Claudia is Claudia. Do I really have to explain this one? Poor girl, but the world is definitely going to be worse off in S6 for having her in it. Still love her though.
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tobi-smp · 11 months
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absolutely nobody wants to see me rant about the end of the dream smp for one millionth time in october 2023, but the anniversary has people talking on my dash so now I'm infected with one of the same 4 thoughts I always have about the dream smp
obviously there is a Very Very large number of reasons that people have a complicated relationship with the dream smp, both in universe and out. and the worst for me are the Obvious out of universe reasons that don't need to be repeated here.
but the cake for In Universe reasons is definitely still the crimeboys ending. it was the final nail in the coffin for me back when I hadn't realized that the coffin had any more nails it could take in the first place, and it's a big part of why the parts of the series that I Do very much so enjoy are very often painful to look back on.
and this isn't because wilbur is a bad writer or a bad actor (or tommy for that matter), even at the time I had Really enjoyed the lead up to the end, even and Especially in that final stream sending wilbur off.
I had my issues of course, I haven't exactly been quiet about that, but in retrospect I Understand the circumstances much better and respect wilbur's choice to get out of there as cleanly as possible.
we still don't know Exactly what was happening behind the scenes, including and Especially with dream, but we Do know full well that dream stopped interacting with the entire rest of the server leaving countless story lines (that he'd Intentionally made himself integral to) left to dry with no way to move forwards while they waited for interaction that would never ever come.
wilbur's choice to move forwards with his send off of his character on his own terms, even with and especially Because of the clear scheduling issues, was the smartest decision he could have made considering the circumstances. I would very much so argue that his character is the Only One that got sent off with any amount of dignity largely Because he stopped playing dream's little game. and I do have to wonder if wilbur escaping the narrative wasn't inspired more by the real life circumstances at the time.
but no matter how satisfying I find it, no matter how much Good I see in it, no matter how much I respect and agree with the choice to do it, I cannot think about wilbur's ending without a Deep ache.
and it is for one single reason
he left tommy behind on purpose, this time fully with the knowledge of the situation he was leaving him behind In.
the abandonment that characters like tommy, niki, and fundy felt after the 16th are ultimately understandable ways of dealing with grief, but weren't Fair to truly hold against wilbur. wilbur didn't Leave, he didn't make the decision to allow the people important to him to be hurt in his absence. he committed suicide because he was sad.
wilbur getting on that boat, truly Knowing what dream did to tommy in a way that only tommy and dream knew, and leaving tommy alone on that beach affected me in ways that nothing else on the server ever has. and that truly is not a good thing.
now, I Think that what was likely supposed to happen is that dream was Supposed to interact with tommy regularly after the prison escape, and that that was supposed to build up to Some natural conclusion. we don't know what that conclusion would have been, but it was certainly nothing like what we got. and meanwhile wilbur's final arc was supposed to progress along side it, building Up To the logsted stream and his full understanding of the abuse dream had done and the affect it had on tommy.
we Know that at one point tommy had spoken about having a soft ending with wilbur. and After wilbur's ending actually did happen he'd mentioned that he might cameo on the server from time to time. that sounds like a soft ending to me.
it makes thematic sense, it makes sense with the pieces we got leading up to the final stream, it makes sense with the characters. and it couldn't happen, because dream refused to move any plot forwards and tommy of all characters couldn't move on without dream. again, both Thematically and because of what was happening behind the scenes.
and this is. frustrating beyond reason. that the snot genuinely poisoned one of the best aspects of the entire server because he was actively killing it but still didn't want to let go.
you can call it speculation, and it is, but this is what I believe and will continue to believe until tommy or wilbur say otherwise.
and on paper I just want to be able to say that the things that I don't like about the ending are bad because dream forced them to be bad and therefore I can just pretend like they never happened and substitute canon's reality with my own (or at the very least excuse it for being the way that it is).
and I have tried to do that ! both in chewing on the ending on its own terms And in imagining many Many ways that it could have gone differently (an activity I'm quite fond of regardless of circumstance).
but it just !
in a completely biased and nevertheless Extremely Honest word, hurt my feelings.
I cannot stop thinking about how they Intentionally set up wilbur finding out about dream abusing tommy, Made Sure to cover every base so the audience Knows that wilbur knows that it was physical, mental, and emotional abuse, Knows that wilbur is fully aware that tommy almost committed suicide, and Knows that wilbur was Deeply Emotionally Affected By This Fact.
and then had him leave. had him Plan Possibly Months Ahead Of Time. had him try to sneak off, only telling tommy the truth when he caught him by surprise and forced it out of him.
tommy opened up to somebody about exile in real honest terms for the very first time, to one of the people that he trusted the most, and that person Chose to leave him trapped with that very abuser out to get him Even Though he understood the danger and cared about him very deeply.
he knew that tommy was in danger, he knew Why tommy was in danger, and him leaving tommy behind was pre-meditated.
and it's Painful not just because of what it implies about their relationship As A Whole (because it's impossible to accept this as true without it affecting how we look back on what came before), but because those same implications makes it Impossible to imagine their relationship having a future.
people tried to play it off like a Soft Ending, like wilbur was just going to get therapy and then come back and they were just gonna hug it out and have a nice healthy relationship. and to be fair to those people, none of us could have predicted that tommy was going to be bombed and then reincarnated with none of his memories. that was Not in my predictions for the next phase of his character arc.
but, shitty sequel bait ending that everyone who cares has disavowed aside (way aside, into a deep pit to never be seen again), if I were tommy I would feel unimaginably betrayed.
where they left off is Not a place to reconnect with a healthy relationship when they're ready, because This Was A Traumatizing Event In And Of Itself.
I don't have to prove this, c!tommy proved this himself when started holing up in his house and abusing potions of invisibility both because he feels completely and totally Unsafe walking anywhere on the server when people can see him And as a relapse back into potion addiction reminiscent of his addiction post-exile.
he was at his absolute lowest point, his abuser and murderer escaped from prison ready to torment him and everyone he cares about for Literally forever. he was Desperately trying to find any form of stability, Desperately trying to reach out to for anyone he could trust, and he Intentionally opened up to someone he Did trust completely once. someone who made him feel safe, someone he trusted with his entire life.
he opened up Because he wanted that relationship, Because he wanted wilbur in his life, Because wilbur had wanted Him in His life. he wanted to cross that gap between them. he was making himself vulnerable to Extend that trust To wilbur.
and wilbur stopped talking to him for months and then left.
that's not going to do good things to his mental health or stability. tommy was Already displayed active suicidal tendencies BEFORE dream broke out of prison.
if he'd managed to kill dream for good and the characters went about their lives tommy would have to let wilbur go. rationalizing what happened, justifying wilbur's decision, would not be healthy.
he can accept that wilbur made the right decision for Himself. he can accept that Wilbur needed to leave, that Wilbur needed time to himself.
but tommy clinging on to wilbur's memory, justifying that he was left for dead with his abuser On Purpose, would not be healthy.
tommy would Need to realize that what happened wasn't okay. there Is no going back to having a relationship with wilbur. wilbur was Allowed to make the choice he did, but it Was a choice.
I can't bare to think of the alternative. where tommy is abandoned, deeply damaged by that abandonment, has to face his abuser and murderer Without someone he'd once considered a brother, and then turn around and just answer wilbur's call the moment Wilbur decides he's ready to have a relationship again.
that would just. be sad. genuinely awful.
and I can't let that go. the decisions they made were Sensible, I can see how it was necessary for wilbur to Have a proper send off when he did. there's no Satisfying way to re-imagine this series of events without it not Being the end.
but it tried to depict itself As a soft ending, As the characters having a future together, when it simply is not. if wilbur escaped the narrative then he left the people he cared about to be victims of the narrative Knowingly.
and it's frustrating Because I can see how it'd happen by accident. How the implications would be both meticulously set up and gone completely unseen.
but for my money, if I were to fix it on its own terms. with no additional screen time after, no change in the streams leading up to the end, and the understanding that tommy's story could not end at this point by necessity (the same restrictions that they had at the time)
I would have wilbur ask tommy to come with him. I'd have the reveal be that wilbur wanted to take tommy with him The Entire Time but knew that tommy was stubborn and attached to the server. but the moment he understood Exactly How Bad It Was he knew he needed to get them out of there Now.
so he did his best to hold dream off for now, and Immediately went to work setting up their escape (we don't need to understand How the portal to utah works, just that it took some time to set up).
it would recontextualize some of their earlier interactions, it would recontextualize his absence after the logsted stream, and it would recontextualize why wilbur didn't tell him until now.
and of course, because tommy has to stay (and because tommy is tommy) he refuses. he refuses not because he doesn't Want to go with wilbur (he wants to be with him more than anything, he wants to feel safe more than anything). but because he can't abandon the people on the server, because he can't let go until he knows dream is gone, because he will never ever feel safe until dream is dead.
and it can be a big dramatic blow out that Ends with that quiet awkward understanding, not with the characters being emotionally in sync but Knowing that this is how this moment has to play out. that same melancholy, that same understand that a choice is being made that can't go back, But It's Mutual.
It's Mutual And Born From Love.
because wilbur Wanted to save tommy, because tommy Wanted wilbur to stay, because they both understand why things aren't happening that way.
and they'll still be Hurt after. their relationship will still be impacted. this will still be something to Work Through rather than the magic soft fix that will make their relationship healthy and fluffy again.
but it's Fixable. if tommy survives there's a relationship still in tact to build on. there's a future where they both trust each other again one day, to find comfort and stability in each other. to put in the Work to build a life once the horror finally ends.
of course, if I had a say a lot more than this would've been changed. but it's a thought that plagues me because of how plausibly it Could have been what we'd gotten. because it would have worked without changing anything and it still would have hurt me at the time but it would have been the Good hurt. not a goodbye forever but goodbye until I can see you again. Goodbye And I Love You.
(at least until tommy got exploded with a bomb and forgot that wilbur existed. yippie)
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I wouldn't really agree that boys are just arm candy in magical girl shows and only there to look cute. Yeah, sure the girls' friendships are the focus, but the boys are usually very much involved in the plot and most shows do explore their feelings about the odd things that happen due to magical shenanigans even if they aren't in the know (It's why ML baffles me even more with how they screwed up Adren's arc when he's the deuteragonist, when all these boys are supporting cast and get well rounded arcs)
I'm not much of a winx fan, but the specialists were very much not arm candy. Did the girls talk about them being cute? Yes, it's what teenage girls do. Did the narrative suggest they were good looking? Yes, but that's standard for most love interests in any genre. But we still got scenes with them talking amongst themselves about how they themselves feel and they got a fair share of badass fight scenes even if they wield no magic. A large amount of episodes actually included the boys and girls working as a team solving a mystery or fighting a villain. The girls might deal the finishing blow but the boys were still integral to the plot.
I hope this doesn't come across as hate, it definitely wasn't my intention. I'm just a bit too passionate about the magical girl genre.
I do think you have a good point with ML having a problem choosing a genre or blending two genres successfully.
For the CCS fans, I will add though that Cardcaptor Sakura had both Tomoyo and Syaoran serve as sources of motivation for Sakura. And both Sakura and Syaoran collecting cards even if Sakura is the only one who could seal them and yet never made you question whether Syaoran was even necessary for the job the way ml does with Chat.
I wasn't trying to say that boys have no part to play in magical girl team shows or that they're always treated as having no lives beyond the girls, that's why I mentioned that the Winx Club boys - aka, the Specialists - have their own (mostly off screen) lives and occasionally show up help the girls:
the boys are usually off doing their own thing and only occasionally show up for a date or to give the girls a ride on their cool bikes or magical spaceship
Even then, this is certainly a simplification of the roles that they play in the story, but I kind of had to simplify their roles down to their base components for the original post's discussion as I was talking in broad strokes of how these stories are written.
In terms of those broad strokes, the Specialists are absolutely only there for shipping fodder. That's why each one is assigned to a girl from the start and why their main role in the narrative is supporting their assigned love interest or causing relationship-based drama for their assigned love interest. If it weren't for shipping, then the Specialists would not exist.
While the Specialists do have fleshed out characters and may even effect the plot, the execution of those elements is designed around the girls. A really obvious example of this is the character Timmy, who has character development as the boy's tech guy. Why is he into technology? Because he's the designated love interest for the fairy of Technology and we have to show why they're a good match. Along similar lines, the boys don't really get plots that are removed from the girls because this is the girl's show. Every episode features one or more of the Winx, but the boys are optional and often don't appear.
This is because, narratively speaking, the boys are just love interests and that brings us back to Miraculous' big problem. You can't have a show where Adrien is written like a Specialist while also being part of the Winx Club and where Alya is written like she's part of the Winx Club while technically being more of a Specialist in terms of power set and actual narrative role.
I'm was thinking back to my memories of various Winx Club plots to find one that really highlighted what I mean here and I remembered that one of the big dramas in season one was the reveal that Bloom's love interest - Sky - was in an arranged marriage and had just never told her. As it turns out, that's a great example of what I'm talking about re Adrien!
Is that plot line technically based around Sky and letting his life effect the plot? Sure, but the fallout of that reveal revolves around Bloom, not Sky. The story doesn't really care how Sky's feeling as the conflict progresses. Instead, it focuses on how it affects Bloom and her friends because of course it does! She's the main character. It would be really weird if that plot suddenly focused on her side character love interest and his friends during one of her darkest hours/biggest moments.
Think of that and then consider how the ending of season five is written. Notice any similarities? Sure, this is Adrien's family drama, but because he's just a Specialist, the focus isn't on him. It's on Winx Club member Marinette and Adrien only shows up at the end for a kiss. That is the problem. That is what I'm talking about when I say that Miraculous will randomly write him as if we're watching a magical girl team show where Adrien is just the love interest.
In fact, let's really dig into this example because it's a good one.
You can have a look at the transcript for the finale episode of Miraculous season five here and see for yourself that Adrien doesn't even show up on screen until the final scenes when the big drama is over. The Winx Club wiki also has episode transcripts, so I took a look to see what happened in Winx land during the arranged marriage reveal plot (I love that this is a thing. It's so useful for fact checking myself!) This is the script for the episode after Bloom learns the truth. Sky does not appear even though his lies and family drama are the fuel for this episode's events, which are a major part of the season's arc. Note how perfectly that matches Adrien's writing?
Similarly, Sky's dialogue in the reveal episode is all about Bloom. He's worried about her learning the truth and thinking less of him. To match that, here's Adrien's only real dialogue in the penultimate episode of season five (full transcript):
Adrien:(Covers his ears.) I cannot transform... (Looks at his ring and tries taking it off.) Plagg: What are you doing?! Adrien: I'm not in my right mind. I'm too angry — at myself for falling short of Marinette's love, at my father for sending me here in London, at this stupid app and these rings that use my image... it makes me sick! This nightmare is giving me the horrible feeling that, if I transform, I'll get akumatized and destroy everything with my Cataclysm — Marinette, Ladybug... (Takes off the ring and hands it to Plagg.)
Switching back to Winx. After Bloom learns the truth about Sky, bad things happen because she's depressed. This results in her and the Winx going off on a journey to learn the truth of who Bloom is. After the girls share this big plot moment and Bloom gets her mojo back, the boys show up to be their ride home and to give Bloom her romance moment where Sky wins her back by declaring that he broke off the arranged married because he loves her.
Sky notably doesn't get an arc about choosing between his arranged marriage and his true love. We don't even know that the marriage is broken off until he tells Bloom because that was never really a conflict as far as the narrative was concerned. Of course he's going to pick Bloom! He's her designated side character love interest! He only exists to be with her. We don't need to treat this as a serious thing for him. The arranged marriage plot was never about him anyway. It was about giving Bloom a reason to have a darkest hour moment that moves the plot forward. Similarly, Sky calling off the marriage is nowhere near as important as him telling Bloom that he's called off the marriage to be with her in a grand romantic gesture.
This perfectly mirrors Miraculous' season five ending where Adrien doesn't appear until after Marinette is done fighting her big girl power fight against his father. As far as the writing is concerned, that fight isn't about him. His connection to the villain only really matters in terms of how it affects Marinette's actions during the final battle. Then, when the battle is over, Adrien shows up to give Marinette her big romance moment because, while the plot may be driven by Adrien's family, he is not a Winx club member. He's just a Specialist. Or, in the words of the head writer:
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[image text: She's Barbie, he's Ken. You don't like it. I get it. It won't change. Anything else?] (The full, even more damning context of this tweet can be found here.)
What else can I say other than, "I rest my case."
Oh, and also that I didn't take this as an attack. I just thought it was a good opportunity to really dig into the nuances of this and what I was talking about in that original post as I never know how obvious this stuff is if you don't closely study story telling. As this case study hopefully shows, if a show is about a group of girl friends using the power of friendship, then their love interests may have important roles, but the boys are never going to be more important than the girls and most of the boy's screen time will be focused on romance and how their existence effects the girls because it's ultimately the girls' world. Without them, the show wouldn't exist. Without the boys? Well, then we just wouldn't have a romance plot.
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ineffable-endearments · 5 months
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Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell
Wow. There is...there is so much here.
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First, a caution about the book itself: there is significant sexually violent narration, and lots of torture as well. This post is going to discuss these topics only in general terms - I don't think I need to go into detail to discuss what they mean for the story - but take care of yourself when you're deciding whether to read it. If you have any questions, always feel free to send an ask or message.
I am going to need to make multiple posts about this book. For this first one, I'll focus on summarizing the book and its main themes, especially the ones that I think relate to Good Omens. As always, I can't summarize it in a way that will give you a better understanding than simply reading the book, but summarizing it will help me put my own thoughts together and hopefully help you follow along as I try to articulate them.
Because it's impossible to miss, I think it is best to confront this issue at the outset: there is a lot of especially blatant misogyny on Winston's part in Nineteen Eighty-Four. This is not meant to be a good or sympathetic thing. It is a demonstration of how messed up he is, and how messed up everyone in that society is.
The Society
The plot of Nineteen Eighty-Four is tied up very much in the story's world. The characters are at the mercy of their society in this story, much more than in most. It will make sense to describe the world first. Indeed, a massive portion of the book is just information about Oceania itself.
In the world of Nineteen Eighty-Four, the entire planet is supposedly ruled by three perpetually warring authoritarian states: Oceania, Eurasia, and Eastasia, conglomerations of Earth's former independent nations. Through the novel, it is revealed that all three states have governments that are structured in largely the same way with approximately the same quality of life for their people, and the perpetual war is itself a way of controlling each population.
Technically, we don't know for sure that the war is really happening. In fact, we don't know that anything is true, because almost all the information the characters have comes from the Party, the government of Oceania, and the Party's operations revolve around reality control. The Party's "leader" is an enigmatic figure referred to only as Big Brother, who, of course, is watching.
Our protagonist, Winston, lives in Oceania. There are Inner Party members, who are the highest-ranking, with the highest responsibility and the highest quality of life. There are Outer Party members, who work for the Party, are heavily surveilled, and whose daily needs are all provided for with low-quality supplies; they have a highly regimented daily schedule. Inner and Outer Party members have telescreens, which broadcast Party propaganda but also have cameras to monitor all Party members. It is incredibly difficult to get away from telescreens, since there's at least one in every home and they're everywhere in public. Altogether, the telescreens form a panopticon that is hard to evade.
Then there are the proles, a shortened term for proletarians, who are the lower classes of Oceania and make up the majority of the population. The proles live in poor conditions and are constantly manipulated by State-generated propaganda. However, they have more freedom than Party members, in the sense that they are also largely ignored by the Party because they have no real power and are assumed to be incapable of engaging in revolutionary behavior. For this reason, proles get to have human relationships and enjoy pleasures, wherever they can find pleasures, in ways that Party members are not allowed. In reality, the Party's perpetual war is a way of grinding through resources in order to keep people, especially the proles, buried under work without improving their quality of life. This is because when people have free time, they can use it to learn and organize, and they might become a threat to the Party.
Winston is one of the Outer Party members. He works in the government department that rewrites history. See, every time a fact or anecdote in the media is inconvenient for the Party, the Party goes back and destroys all old copies of newspapers and books, all old video content, all paperwork, any scrap of evidence that anything was different. Newspapers are routinely reprinted with "updated" (falsified) information. For example, Oceania is always either at war with Eurasia and allied with Eastasia, or at war with Eastasia and allied with Eurasia, and as far as the Party is concerned, this has never changed. Every single time Oceania's alliance changes, the newspapers are updated so that the current alignment has always been true. Every time someone becomes a disgrace to the Party, their previous deeds are rewritten.
On the surface, this sounds difficult to implement, but over the story, one realizes the vast majority of the Party's operations revolve purely around the constant reshaping of history, control of people's memories, and control of people's emotions for the purpose of maintaining power eternally. Art produced by human beings is actively discouraged; instead, the Party mass-produces art, including novels, using machines, to control what kinds of ideas people are consuming.
The Party is essentially a machine that controls reality, or at least, what the people inside it consider to be reality. There are people who specialize in managing the thoughts of the public: the Thought Police. While they may technically not be able to literally see inside one's mind, they watch everyone carefully and are excellent at noticing everything: every facial expression, every eyebrow twitch, and every breath.
The Party rules through a series of four "ministries." These are the Ministry of Truth (like an educational ministry, responsible for producing propaganda), the Ministry of Peace (like a military, responsible for warfare), the Ministry of Love (like the correctional system, responsible for jailing and torturing dissidents), and the Ministry of Plenty (like the treasury, responsible for rationing).
When it suits the Party, anyone can be "vaporized." This means they are secretly murdered and all evidence of them - any existing record whatsoever, any news story, any list or database entry - is erased.
The Party has a new language they're developing as a method of thought control called Newspeak. The purpose of Newspeak is to make it impossible to articulate certain kinds of thoughts. The following is a character named Syme describing Newspeak:
"Don't you see that the whole aim of Newspeak is to narrow the range of thought? In the end we shall make thoughtcrime literally impossible, because there will be no words in which to express it. ... In fact there will be no thought, as we understand it now. Orthodoxy means not thinking - not needing to think. Orthodoxy is unconsciousness."
It's worth noting that Syme is later vaporized, presumably just for being too insightful out loud about Newspeak. In Newspeak, people who have been vaporized, if they must ever be referred to at all, are called "unpersons." In this way, no one has ever been killed by the Party, because those people have never existed in the first place.
There's a key Newspeak word that appears over and over: doublethink. It's the ability to believe two contradictory things simultaneously, and unlike the way we usually experience cognitive dissonance, there is no urge or attempt to reconcile what is really true. With doublethink, the existence of two contradictory ideas at once is itself exploited to help Party members serve the Party.
The Party (and its equivalents in Eurasia and Eastasia) uses perpetual war to control the population by squandering the resources produced by human labor and keep people in a perpetual combination of patriotic fervor and fear. The war is infinite and can never be won; the whole purpose of the war is to be at war.
Socially, the Party has destroyed family life. Winston was married years ago. He and his wife are so estranged that he is no longer sure if she is alive. They did not have a good relationship. The Party does not want close emotional relationships between its members, so while they are strict about who is allowed to marry (not for love, strictly for procreation), they don't care if people continue to live together. However, the Party does not want people forming new relationships, so divorce and extramarital sex are also illegal. The Party has also turned children against their parents by encouraging children to report their parents' potential thoughtcrimes. All in all, family members are generally afraid of each other.
We see, over and over again, how the Party does its best to frame human beings as both inherently untrustworthy and as objects to be used. Pitting people from individual family members to entire classes, sexes, and races against each other is one of the Party's many techniques for controlling people, and it has seeped into Winston's everyday thought processes. Only actual experiences with other human beings even begin to break these ideas down.
Eventually, it becomes apparent that the Party's motivation is immortality through the denial of the individual. Human beings are denied their own personal thoughts, feelings, and bodies. Only their ability to be assimilated into the Party is permitted. Even thoughts and feelings about the greater good are unacceptable because these lead to regime changes and interfere with the raw totalitarian power of the Party. Every Party member in Oceania is meant to strive exclusively for the continued power of the Party. Dissidents are denied even the ability to be martyrs, because the Party does not kill people while they carry hatred for Big Brother; they simply change their thoughts until they are good Party members again, and then kill them later, when they are no longer dissidents and have no legacy of resistance to leave behind.
Winston's Plot
Winston has a secret desire to be free of the Party. He does get swept up in the Party's fervor when he's in the middle of it, but he also longs for the extremely basic pleasures and freedoms that have become taboo. For example, Winston secretly buys an old pen and journal to write in - a completely forbidden act that he has to conceal from the telescreen in his own apartment. He finds himself almost unconsciously writing things like "DOWN WITH BIG BROTHER" in that journal.
There is an Inner Party member named O'Brien who Winston admires greatly from a distance despite knowing only his appearance: "intelligent" with a "prizefighter's physique." Winston perceives that he and O'Brien "understand" each other somehow, and even believes O'Brien has spoken to him in a dream, saying they "shall meet where there is no darkness." Eventually, Winston imagines he is addressing his journal to the mysterious O'Brien, believing him to be an ally.
Winston has an acquaintance at work named Syme. Syme is very passionate about revising the Newspeak dictionary. However, he is a little too openly insightful about the true purpose of Newspeak for his own good. Even though Syme does not seem to have any intention of betraying the Party and in fact is extremely taken with Newspeak, Winston is convinced he will be vaporized, and sure enough, he is.
There is a woman Winston thinks he hates because she looks like the perfect Party member who would turn him in to the Thought Police. Actually, the narration outright states that he doesn't like women entirely, because he thinks they're too committed to the Party and enjoy betraying men. However, it turns out that this woman observes Winston by the shop where he bought his illegal notebook. By simply observing Winston in that shop, the Party would suspect he's committing thoughtcrimes, and Winston panics. However, the woman later bumps into Winston at work and passes him a note that says, "I love you." Winston then instantly decides he wants to be with her; the idea of not being with her never even occurs to him.
The woman's name is Julia. It turns out Julia is putting on an incredibly convincing act, but she hates the Party, too. Winston is technically married, so he can't legally marry Julia, and any kind of non-procreative sex is illegal anyway, so their relationship is entirely forbidden.
Winston and Julia meet up and have sex in secret. It's worth noting that during their first meeting, they enjoy listening to a thrush singing. During this first meeting, they go out to the countryside, where there are fewer telescreens and microphones; Winston comments that it's like the "Golden Country," his symbolic dream-place where people are free.
A man named Mr. Charrington owns the shop where Winston had bought his notebook, and he also owns a room for rent above the shop. It's an old-fashioned prole room without telescreens and with a great number of old-fashioned fixtures. Winston and Julia rent it to get away from Party life for a few hours every now and then. When they first start staying in the room, Julia observes a rat and throws her shoe at it. Winston is utterly terrified, showing that he has a serious phobia of rats; it is vaguely implied that he had a traumatic moment related to them as a child. Julia takes the rat in stride; they are everywhere. She promises to block up the hole so the rat does not return.
Julia and Winston spend time in their prole room knowing for sure that it will eventually lead to their capture, torture, and death, but they decide it will be worth it. Winston voices some interest in trying to work against the Party; Julia does not believe this is possible whatsoever, and is not interested in trying. She believes people are better off putting on a convincing act and getting away with as much as they can for as long as they can.
Meanwhile, during the workday, O'Brien speaks to Winston. He mentions Syme without using his name, which is incredibly unusual, since people who are vaporized are never ever acknowledged again; all their work is erased from history. But O'Brien mentions Syme's work on the Newspeak dictionary and gives Winston his home address so that Winston can borrow the dictionary. Party members also don't often give each other their addresses. Because of these unusual cues, Winston infers that O'Brien is inviting him over to conspire against the Party.
While Winston and Julia meet up and have sex, they also indulge in other pleasures of the world, like real coffee and chocolate, and proles singing outside their window, and art that hasn't been generated by the Party. Observing the proles and their richer emotional lives, Winston and Julia decide they are going to worry only about their feelings. The Party can coerce them to do anything, including to confess, but as long as the Party can't make them stop loving each other, they agree, they will never have betrayed each other. Julia says that for all the things the Party can do, they can't get inside their heads.
So seized are Winston and Julia by their conviction that they decide to go visit O'Brien together and confess to wanting to destroy the Party. O'Brien tells them they may join the Brotherhood, a mysterious group of dissidents working to bring down Big Brother, but they must be willing to sacrifice everything; they must be willing to not only suffer and die, but to murder civilians, to spread disease, to sow discord, to do anything the Brotherhood asks of them. They even, O'Brien says, must be willing to "separate and never see one another again." This is the only thing Julia and Winston are unwilling to agree to. O'Brien accepts them anyway and, many days later, gives Winston a book through a secret messenger.
This book contains the writings of Goldstein, the supposed leader of the Brotherhood, outlining the Party's core philosophy. Winston reads this to Julia, who is hinted to not be all that interested, but she does listen a little.
While they look out the window and contemplate that the proles are alive and the Party members are already dead, Winston and Julia are captured. It turns out Mr. Charrington was a member of the Thought Police and the room had surveillance in it. Winston and Julia are separated and dragged to the Ministry of Love.
While at the Ministry of Love, Winston spends a lot of time waiting, watching other prisoners pass through. Some of them are proles, and some of them are people he knows. The waiting room is enormous and brightly lit with telescreens on all walls. There are essentially no shadows.
Another familiar face appears at the Ministry of Love. It's O'Brien. Winston first thinks O'Brien has been captured, but it soon becomes apparent that O'Brien was masterminding this whole operation and is in charge of Winston's torture. They have, indeed, met "where there is no darkness" - because of all the telescreens and artificial lighting. O'Brien and other Party members even wrote Goldstein's book as yet another propaganda piece. O'Brien states the description of the Party in the book is true, although the book's implication that the Party can be defeated through a prole uprising is false because a prole uprising will never happen. (Note that Winston did not actually read the part of the book where "Goldstein" outlined how the Party should be defeated.)
Winston is tortured for an undetermined amount of time. He discovers that he is a prisoner of his body; his torturers can get him to say pretty much anything through punishment and reward. In fact, they can force him to feel certain ways, too. O'Brien and the Party aren't only trying to get Winston to give away information; they want him to really internalize sincere belief in the Party doctrine, like doublethink, symbolized by the concept that 2+2 equals 5.
Winston starts out promising to himself there are certain things he will never agree to or say out loud, but torture proves an effective method at getting him to say whatever O'Brien wants. Winston vows that he will recite the Party lines, but will not actually believe them. If he lies to get the torture to stop but still retains his ability to reason for himself, Winston believes, then he can beat the Party.
However, O'Brien and the torturers are slowly able to break that down, too, as they are good at reading Winston's emotions, and they torture him every time he recites their desired lines without the sincere belief they're looking for. Winston is highly resistant to the 2+2=5 idea, but as he is tortured over and over, he does come to believe that because the Party can define his reality through brute force, then 2+2=5 could very well be true. They can force it to be true. He has no choice but to believe it, because only believing it might possibly end his torture, and the torture must end.
In other words, Winston and Julia were wrong. The Party can, in fact, get inside your head.
When Winston starts to believe 2+2=5, O'Brien does indeed start to improve his treatment of Winston, providing him with food and comfort, allowing Winston to become much healthier over time. This bonds Winston to O'Brien and makes him feel attached. However, Winston has not forgotten Julia, and in an unguarded moment, he cries out for her. This prompts O'Brien to ask Winston his feelings, again, about Big Brother. Winston states that he hates Big Brother.
It is at this moment when O'Brien sends Winston to the notorious Room 101.
In Room 101, prisoners face their worst fears - which, of course, the Party knows, because they know everything about everyone. Winston, who we know has a phobia of rats, is shown a pair of cages with starving rats in them. He is told that the rats are, as everyone in this world knows, flesh-eaters, despite being rodents. Winston is restrained, his head held in place, and O'Brien informs him that the rats will be released to eat his face.
Winston realizes what O'Brien wants to hear: he realizes his torturers will probably not allow the rats to eat him if he is willing to inflict the torture on Julia instead. They want Winston's betrayal of Julia to be complete. They want him to stop caring for her, the one thing he and Julia had once agreed they would never, ever do. And Winston has reached his limit: he cannot tolerate the idea of being eaten alive specifically by rats. So Winston says, "Do it to Julia! Not me! Julia!"
And then he is finally let go.
We continue with Winston once again living on the outside. He has seen and spoken to Julia, who was also let go. But the bond between them is completely broken. Julia admits she also betrayed Winston when she was faced with Room 101.
"Sometimes," she said, "they threaten you with something---something you can't stand up to, can't even think about. And then you say, 'Don't do it to me, do it to somebody else, do it to so-and-so.' And perhaps you might pretend, afterwards, that it was only a trick and that you just said it to make them stop and didn't really mean it. But that isn't true. At the time when it happens you do mean it. You think there's no other way of saving yourself, and you're quite ready to save yourself that way. You want it to happen to the other person. You don't give a damn what they suffer. All you care about is yourself." "All you care about is yourself," he echoed. "And after that, you don't feel the same toward the other person any longer." "No," he said, "you don't feel the same."
In other words, by demonstrating to Winston and Julia that they ultimately cannot escape their own self-interest, O'Brien has caused them to reject each other.
At the tail end of the book, Winston is sitting in his usual spot at a place called the Chestnut Tree Café, pondering a happy moment from his childhood before pushing the memory away, believing it to be a false memory. When an enormous military victory is announced on the telescreen, Winston realizes that he finally, truly loves Big Brother.
Interpretation of the End
Although the events at the end of the book are pretty straightforwardly described, I found them slightly confusing on an emotional level. Winston and Julia aren't really angry at each other for their betrayals, it doesn't seem - in fact, they admit to each other that's what happened, and they agree on their mutual experience. But they don't love each other anymore, and Winston loves Big Brother instead.
So, here is my initial thought on what the characters went through:
For people to love each other, both need a sense of individuality. There needs to be a connection, but there also needs to be a specific You and a Somebody to love, to connect to.
Through torture, O'Brien has effectively torn away Winston's individual sense of self. I know that's a weird thing to suggest when the book repeats "all you care about is yourself" multiple times, but I think that by so completely obliterating Winston's ability to make anything resembling his own decision, O'Brien has essentially made "Big Brother" and "Winston ('yourself')" the same person. Big Brother's wishes are Winston's wishes. Winston has been assimilated into Big Brother. Winston and Julia's conversation at the end describes what it feels like to be liquidated as a person and assimilated into a collective.
Winston now knows that the one core impulse he can never escape is self-preservation, and the only one who can provide that, with infinite military might and an infinitely-deep torture repertoire, is Big Brother. Julia represents the ideal that caused Winston to estrange himself from the safety of embracing and trusting Big Brother. And because Big Brother is both eternal and almighty, giver of both life and death, he is the only one it is safe to trust.
By betraying Julia, Winston discovered that his own will inherently had limits; because he would always, eventually, revert to self-preservation, his will and therefore his identity became synonymous with the force that decided whether to preserve him. That's why the end of the novel involves Winston imagining that he has finally been shot in the head and killed; he has experienced the death of his sense of self. And this is exactly how "Goldstein's" book indicated the Party's operations work: eliminate individuals and assimilate them into a collective to achieve immortality.
Character and Faction Parallels Between Nineteen Eighty-Four and Good Omens
The Party and Heaven and Hell
They're both the one overarching power over everyone's existence. The inner workings of it are mysterious to the characters and even moreso to the audience. The main characters are agents working for these entities, and they are controlled through surveillance, punishment, and reward.
Although Heaven and Hell give the impression of being two large overarching powers, it seems apparent to me that the whole thing is really just one system that has intentionally split its workforce into factions. Ultimately I think we will see in the most explicit way possible that whoever is actively calling the shots in Heaven is also actively in charge of Hell.
Winston and Julia, Aziraphale and Crowley
Both pairs are agents who are in love with each other even though they're not supposed to be, who enjoy Earthly pleasures and experience the joys of humanity before getting arrested and dragged away by their authoritarian "employers."
It's tempting to try and figure out which character mirrors which - Aziraphale mirroring Winston, Crowley mirroring Julia? - but I think, sort of like with Nina and Maggie, the reflections work in every direction. The characters aren't literal stand-ins for each other, but they are exploring similar themes, including what happens to people when a society forbids intimacy.
O'Brien and the Metatron
"More even than of strength, he gave an impression of confidence and of an understanding tinged by irony." This line describes O'Brien from Nineteen Eighty-Four, but it sounds quite a lot like the Metatron's manner as he enters Aziraphale's bookshop. Confidence and an understanding tinged by irony indeed.
O'Brien seems to appeal to Winston's ideal in authority figures, appealing both intelligent and physically strong. The Metatron seems to have tailored himself to appeal to Aziraphale's ideal of an authority figure: someone who is calm and in control, but also has an exceptionally gentle manner (and this isn't really true of the Metatron, but he can make it look like it is).
There are more similarities. Winston thinks and hopes O'Brien will be a helpful figure, and O'Brien convinces Winston he's a helpful figure, but in the end, O'Brien is the mastermind behind Winston's capture and torture. Additionally, Winston assumes, during his torture, that the Party's drive for power is for the Greater Good. But O'Brien tells him this is stupid, and the Party's drive for power is just for the pure sake of having power, because that's the only thing that will guarantee the Party's immortality.
This reminds me a little bit of the Metatron telling Aziraphale the point of the war is to win it, not to avoid it. It also hits me as a potential motivation for Heaven - like, why do they do what they do instead of doing something else, since the universe seems perfectly capable of running itself? "Power" or "immortality" could be a reason, and it would also be a reason that would resonate with very human themes, since power and (symbolic) immortality are among the motivations that can drive real-life authoritarians.
The Proles and Humanity
The common people. The populations who are considered by the main characters' societies to be "beneath" them, but who the main characters become fascinated by, and whose lifestyles the main characters come to prefer.
Both Nineteen Eighty-Four and Good Omens contain in their narratives the notion that the prole or human way of life is where true meaning can be experienced. Winston and Julia go as far as to announce that proles are alive and Party members are dead. And at the end of Good Omens Season 1, Aziraphale outright tells Adam that being "human incarnate" is better than being Heaven or Hell incarnate.
This mirror is probably the one that brings up the richest speculation possibilities for me. I won't go in-depth here, but I see in both stories the main characters developing this love for the proles and humans while continuing to separate from them - even trying to turn around and exploit the very power structures that have oppressed them in an effort to fight against the oppression.
It's worth noting that in Nineteen Eighty-Four, Mr. Charrington, the man who Winston and Julia rented their secret love nest from, and whom they thought was a prole, was actually a member of the Thought Police who helped capture them, whereas in Good Omens, so far, the humans have just been humans, and while Adam Young started out as an incredibly powerful non-human, he later chose to be a human and used his power to reject authoritarianism.
The Themes
Authoritarianism and Power
Obviously, the whole overarching cautionary tale in Nineteen Eighty-Four is about authoritarianism and the insidious ways it affects populations. The Party's power is almost as absolute as it can possibly be. Big Brother really is almost always watching; there is almost always a telescreen somewhere nearby. Even when there isn't a telescreen, there are microphones. And unorthodox ideas and behavior are punished with annihilation - not just death, but the total annihilation of the self.
Doesn't this sound like a version of Heaven and Hell in Good Omens?
At first glance, it appears Oceania's Party is more aggressive about surveilling its Party members than Heaven and Hell are about surveilling Aziraphale and Crowley. One has to wonder if perhaps Heaven and Hell are just as aggressive with surveillance in the Upstairs and Downstairs themselves, but are less aggressive or maybe even less capable on Earth, just like the Party's surveillance is less in the countryside (although it is still a significant threat there).
But still, we see Michael pull out those photos of Crowley and Aziraphale through the ages, and we hear the Metatron refer to reviewing Aziraphale's "exploits," and we see Hell drag Crowley down in 1827, and we see both Crowley and Aziraphale anxiously glancing around throughout history with the assumption that someone might be listening, and we see how ready Heaven is to erase Gabriel's memories (his identity! his entire self!) from existence. We also watch Heaven and Hell try to make Aziraphale and Crowley disappear in a gout of hellfire and a tub of holy water after realizing that Aziraphale and Crowley do represent a threat to the current celestial order. Heaven and Hell's Nineteen Eighty-Four-esque insidious threat is clearly established in both seasons.
Vaporizing Dissidents
In fact, Heaven and Hell's arrest of Aziraphale and Crowley reminds me a bit of Winston and Julia's arrest, in the sense that the protagonists knew what was probably coming but not exactly when. And Heaven's attempted execution of Aziraphale in particular reminds me very much of the Party choosing to vaporize a dissident. They were going to try to disappear him. No angel or demon other than the ones who were involved would have known what happened to him. Hell's attempted execution of Crowley, meanwhile, reminds me of the Party's public executions of war prisoners.
Finally, the Party will attempt to erase people from existence by killing them and then erasing all records related to them, down to the very last detail. Meanwhile, the Archangel Michael threatens Aziraphale with being literally written out of existence in the Book of Life. There's lots of speculation about how possible this is. I wonder if maybe, it's a flawed process. Maybe erasing someone from the Book of Life can cut a hole shaped like them in the universe - but maybe it isn't that simple, and they don't actually get taken from anyone else's memories. Maybe, as people in Oceania haven't quite lost the ability to remember their dead, Heaven cannot actually erase the fact of anyone.
Social Disconnection
I see a lot of complaints online about the characters of Nineteen Eighty-Four being impossible to like. What tends to make characters likable? Their behaviors toward others, especially humor, compassion, individual quirks, and affection. Their moral strengths, like a sense of justice, might appeal to us, too. And what has the Party been systematically beating out of people for decades now? Anything that could possibly make fictional characters likable.
One of the Party's primary modes of social control is to keep people from having individual, intimate relationships outside of the Party. Each individual regards every other individual with distrust at all times, and only the Party is capable of providing safety. Winston mentions many instances in which he believes parents are afraid of their children, for example. There are also a number of people who he thinks would report him for thoughtcrimes.
This is getting into heavy speculation territory, but it hits me as a major motivation for the Fall in the first place. It's a great way to instantly divide Heaven itself in half, make everyone instantly suspicious of everyone else, and set up a whole bunch of rewards and punishments to hold over people's heads related to Falling.
One thing that's obvious, though, is the total lack of social connection in Heaven. Michael and Uriel are constantly treating each other with barely-suppressed contempt. Muriel wants approval so badly, but nobody has any patience for them. The "friendliest" any angels get are Gabriel and Sandalphon in Season 1, and that's still like, corporate-coworkers-style friendliness. Gabriel outright tells Beelzebub that no one has ever given him anything. Although it's...theoretically possible Gabriel is an outlier, I think his experience is probably representative of all the angels.
Bodily Experiences, Physicality, Gross Matter
There is a moment that made a big impression on me. Winston observes a prole woman outside singing a silly popular song at the top of her lungs as she works. This woman is not an attractive person by Winston's or Party standards; she is older, she is fat, she has a "lower-class" accent, her skin is weathered and reddened from working outside. But Winston, self-admitted misogynist who came of age on the Party's feminine ideal, thinks she is beautiful. He has a moment of realization that she's beautiful because the very things that theoretically would make her "unattractive" are evidence of a human life fully lived.
We also have Winston and Julia enjoying the world through their senses together in a way that they simply cannot in the grips of the Party. From listening to a thrush in the countryside to drinking real, delicious coffee, they experience pleasures that are denied to them and cause them to feel peaceful in a way that is denied to Outer Party members. As they experience life in a way that is much closer to the ways of the proles, they decide that only proles are alive; Party members are dead. It is at the moment when they speak this out loud that the Party chooses to capture them.
There's a darker side to the bodily experiences explored in Nineteen Eighty-Four, and that's experienced in the Ministry of Love. Here, Winston and Julia discover that their thoughts and feelings are indeed controlled by their bodies. There is only so much pain a human being can withstand before they will comply with their captors just to get the torture to stop. In fact, if the Party's psychological manipulation tactics haven't worked thus far to indoctrinate the population, then the body can be used to brute-force an attitude change.
The connection to Good Omens here is obvious. Aziraphale and Crowley are just like a couple of Outer Party members who haven't experienced real pleasure before, and then they discover wine and ox ribs and music and nice clothes and all those delightful human experiences that the other angels sneer at. It seems Heaven looks down on Earthly pleasure as a morally inferior, dirty pursuit, while Hell looks on Earthly pleasure as a kind of weakness, a pathetic softness. But Earth is where Aziraphale and Crowley have found meaning. Physical existence is where they've found themselves, where they've connected with each other, and where they've connected with the stuff of the universe itself.
Memory Manipulation and Thought Policing
In Nineteen Eighty-Four, there are massive governmental departments dedicated to revising all printed records, including reprinting newspapers as needed. Private writing is also not allowed. This means that even if a Party member has a memory, there is no physical evidence of it. Even if there were physical evidence, something a person had stuffed away in a safe place, there would be another, more "official" source to prove one's personal source wrong. Of course, anyone trying to make any kind of fuss about official sources being wrong would disappear, too, so no one will even try.
Winston mentions often in his narration that he has trouble remembering large portions of his life because of the way the Party has controlled the public narrative and obscured any fact that would once have been a point of reference for him. For example, Winston estimates that the date his journal starts would be April 4, 1984, but he actually isn't certain, not even about the year, because time isn't kept track of by those dates anymore. Historical facts, like events that led to the Party's ascent to power, have been rewritten so many times that Winston can no longer know what really happened. He can be sure there was chaos in the streets, followed by violence, and then proclamations from above about what was supposedly true, but one individual human being usually can't judge the big picture of what's going on in their entire society without a relatively objective source of information for major events.
Nineteen Eighty-Four also has literal thought police, Party members who study their fellow citizens for any sign of even the most remote disagreement with Party doctrine. If someone proves to be a problematic thinker, as Winston and Julia both did, they are dragged to the Ministry of Love to be violently re-educated. Using a series of punishments and rewards, prisoners are slowly broken down until they are unable to think for themselves at all.
Although it's unclear what Heaven is like in regards to spreading information, we've got the Metatron and the Archangels literally ready to erase Gabriel's memory. In Good Omens, since it's all dressed up in Heavenly attire and the characters have their unique attitudes, it comes across as less dystopian, more quirky and fantastical. But they are fundamentally threatening exactly what is done in Nineteen Eighty-Four. And based on Beelzebub's comment about how Gabriel's memory is "all your...you," the same identity issues would be at play. To erase Gabriel's memories would be to erase everything that makes Gabriel himself - an execution by another name.
Reality As A Construct (Or Not)
The Party's stance on reality is fairly simple: human beings perceive reality, so if human perception can be altered, reality can be changed and turned into whatever the Party wants it to be. This sounds wrong because it is wrong, but people who the Party has targeted for thought control don't get to think for themselves about it, because they can't withstand the torture.
This might be Heaven's approach to reality as well. Look at how questioning is discouraged, and how the angels choose to believe whatever is most convenient for Heaven, or whatever they believe should be true ("there are no back channels").
More importantly, though, we have characters in Good Omens who actually can change reality. In particular, this is what Adam Young does - and what he actively chooses not to do for the majority of the world, in the end. He only adjusts reality enough to be allowed to make his own decision: he's not the Antichrist anymore. Otherwise, he restores the world to its state from before he ascended to power (aside from a couple of tiny little eleven-year-old-boy-ish tweaks here and there; hey, you can't blame a kid for adding a few extras of his favorite books to the world).
Proles as the saviors of society
So this one is complicated because repeatedly through Nineteen Eighty-Four, we come across this feeling from WInston and Julia that the proles have some almost mystical connection to True Humanity which Party members have lost. However, there is also the repeated assumption that the proles are incapable of revolution on their own. And in a practical sense, this appears to be true. The intellectuals of their world look down on them for it, but the truth is that just as in real life, the proles are living in poverty and are far too desperate for their basic necessities to ever gain the class consciousness needed to overthrow the Party. This is, of course, by design.
Winston goes as far as to believe the proles might possibly rise up and overthrow the Party, but he never considers working with them. He goes straight into the jaws of the Inner Party instead! This seems to be for a couple of reasons, but primarily because Winston has formed this sort of attachment to O'Brien, his Inner Party member of choice.
In Good Omens, Season 1 and the book, humans do eventually save the world. Well, Adam - technically an Antichrist - saves the world by thinking like a human and accepting humanity as his true "side."
Free Will
"Free will" as a theme really ties into humanity as a theme in Good Omens, since Earth is neutral ground between Heaven and Hell and humans aren't born to a particular Side. In Nineteen Eighty-Four, of course, the Party's goal is to eliminate free will, while in Good Omens, Heaven and Hell are looking to eliminate humanity.
Individualism Versus Collectivism
Oh there it is! There's my pet theme!
I've always argued that in Good Omens, the core of the dualism explored between Aziraphale and Crowley is individualism and collectivism, with Crowley the dedicated individualist who nonetheless would like to belong somewhere, and Aziraphale the nervous collectivist who is secretly desperate to have an identity and belongings to himself. Good Omens has already touched on the notion that working together as a collective is necessary to keep the world turning, but it's also important to preserve individuality, so we have people to keep us company and meaning to live for. I think this will come up again.
Meanwhile, Nineteen Eighty-Four explores an authoritarian and destructive form of collectivism in which human beings are not allowed to have individual interests or experiences; everything flows toward the power of the Party. Individual identity is viewed as a weakness. With that said, Nineteen Eighty-Four does consider the potential power of collectives to overcome authoritarianism.
Mortality, Immortality, and Change
In Nineteen Eighty-Four, O'Brien eventually reveals that the goal of the Party is to become immortal through collectivism. While the fate of an individual human being is always to die, the Party believes a collective that is single-minded enough about maintaining power can live forever. In that way, people who submit to the Party's power can live forever, too. One has to wonder about the real point of all this, of course. The Party regards change as its downfall. For the Party to succeed, it must keep everyone moving toward the exact same goal of maintaining power forever.
In Good Omens, many of the characters are naturally immortal, as angels or demons. They don't have to change, and Heaven and Hell don't have to change. However, existing as immortals in Heaven or Hell, not experiencing any of the things mortals do in the physical world, all seems pretty obviously pointless. Aziraphale and Crowley, and then Gabriel and Beelzebub, and then Muriel, all start to find meaning on Earth among mortals. And I think this is all yet to be expanded upon, especially with the looming Second Coming.
Where Good Omens is concerned, the notion of change as a type of death and/or death as a type of change may be important (and ties into The Crow Road by Iain Banks as well).
By coming to Earth, the immortal characters are essentially doing the reverse of assimilating with the Party or Heaven and Hell: they're discovering themselves. With self-discovery comes the risk of change - changing from who they used to be in Heaven or Hell - and the reward of meaning.
The Party of Oceania wants to assimilate everyone into the same goal of maintaining the Party's power in order to make the Party immortal. While "maintaining power" is a "purpose" of sorts for the collective, on an individual level for any specific human being, it is nihilistic, since there is no place for the individual other than ensuring the success of the Party's destruction of the individual.
Freedom in the Natural World
In both stories, we've got the notion of nature as a place of freedom. The countryside where Winston and Julia first meet up lacks telescreens, and there are fewer microphones as well, allowing them to act naturally in a way that isn't usually permitted in the city. The room that Winston and Julia rent from Mr. Charrington is also so old-fashioned that it doesn't have a telescreen; they believe themselves to be momentarily safe in their own little world there. Unfortunately, Mr. Charrington is not really an ordinary prole, but a member of the Thought Police, which allows the Party to invade Winston's and Julia's space.
Of course, in Good Omens, Earth is the ultimate place of freedom. Heaven and Hell are both awful in their ways, hyper-controlled and devoid of real meaning. It's on Earth that Aziraphale and Crowley can begin to truly live. Of course, the safe little place they create together, the bookshop, is eventually invaded by Heaven and Hell.
I'd like to leave you with a pair of quotations.
"If you want a picture of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face---forever. ... And remember that it is forever. The face will always be there to be stamped upon. The heretic, the enemy of society, will always be there, so that he can be defeated and humiliated over again. Everything that you have undergone since you have been in our hands---all that will continue, and worse. The espionage, the betrayals, the arrests, the tortures, the executions, the disappearances will never cease." O'Brien Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell Part Three, Chapter III
"If you want to imagine the future, imagine a boy and his dog and his friends. And a summer that never ends. If you want to imagine the future, imagine a boot . . . no, imagine a sneaker, laces trailing, kicking a pebble; imagine a stick, to poke at interesting things, and throw for a dog that may or may not decide to retrieve it; imagine a tuneless whistle, pounding some luckless popular song into insensibility; imagine a figure, half angel, half devil, all human . . . Slouching hopefully towards Tadfield. . . . . . . forever. Good Omens by Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett
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