#where's my dream wizard to tell me what this means

[dreammeiser]

Oh! I have a few more questions.

1, Could you tell us what was the reasoning for the names of the Characters? Does their names have any symbolism behind them or any references to things or characters from different media? And are those the characters Aactual name or just nicknames?

2. You mentioned on your Instagram story if a human were to go to Dreamalong, they’d turn into a puppet. So does that mean all the cast are really humans turned into puppets?

3. Since there’s a large main cast, will each of the main characters be able to character get an equal amount of screen time?

Hi there!! You always pose such really interesting questions, and it's an honour that you (or anyone!) think deeply about my project, so I want to preface this by saying thank you! <:o) It's always a treat! Now to answer!

So for the characters, I can't say too much on how they got those names within their story, but I can tell you how I picked them out! They're living in a world where their culture is based around children's' media/logic, especially around puppet shows, which is why their names are so silly/cute! Their names are descriptive of their innate lucid dreaming abilities or their temperament, fun alliteration, it might be a joke or a play on a phrase, or on rare occasion, it would be because I looked at them and went, "He is very adamant you call him Mufflin", ha!

Mufflin Mallow, the puppet person's people puppet :oD

As for humans turning into puppets, that's a good question! I like to think of it as total immersion in a world via metamorphic adaption (an example I can think of is how in Kingdom Hearts, Sora gets a disguise most of the time to blend into the world, hahaha). There's a dress code, so as a guest, you're donning a puppet persona of yourself :o)

For instance, I draw myself as this little fuzzy worm with a wizard hat, and that is who I am in Dreamalong HAHA Lastly, yes! I would like for each character to get an equal amount of attention as they're all of equal importance, at least to me! They all have a message tied in to them!

[hersurvival]

You appeared at my feet,

As I sleep alone within this blindingly empty void.

We never had the chance to meet in life

But even in death, you would not stay.

What do you have left unfinished?

Where do you so desperately need to be?

You wouldn't say.

I knew as soon as you arrived, you would leave,

Tears already welling up, threatening

To burn, to leave scars down my face.

Won't you rest? For just a moment?

We can be together finally.

You could only shake your head,

Couldn't even touch me.

[forgeofthenine]

Can I request headcanons for Dammon, and Zevlor unconsciously wrapped his tail around their waist or leg (I can't decide because I love both of it too much XD) when his human gn crush is about to leave? They're surprised because they thought he was being too nice to tell them to leave so they asked with hopeful eyes if they could talk to him a bit more.

I had a great time writing this, I love tiefling tails! I hope you don't mind Anon, I added Rolan into the headcanons too :)

I'd also like to point people over to @underdark-dreams again as their recent tail headcanons have been my latest brainrot and these definitely take some inspiration from them <3

Tiefling bachelors stopping you from leaving with their tails

Dammon

Dammon finds it so hard to control his natural instincts around you

His tail swishes and curls towards you near constantly

It's something any other tiefling can recognise as him showing interest, but to you it's just 'how he is'

This time, you're both talking at his forge, discussing inconsequential things despite the fact it's already falling dark

As Dammons tail starts to sway faster you think it might be that you've overstayed your welcome

Dammons lovely after all and might not want to send you home

Your attempt at saying good night is interrupted however, as a firm tail wraps over your back and holds you in place

As your voice fades, Dammons face bursts into a blush, finally realising what he's done

The tail leaves you almost as fast as it appeared, a disappointing development

Dammon clears his throat, eyes not knowing where to settle, and finally he looks at you again

"Well, would you like to stay for dinner?"

Zevlor

This man has great self-control

Years of military work in the hellriders has perfected how he acts

What threatens to undo that is your very presence

You're with him in his makeshift office again, having a good go over the maps before lunch

Standing with a short yawn, you mention not wanting to take too much of the leaders precious time

It's then that a small panic runs through Zevlor, the man not quite ready for his company to leave, so what does he do?

Wraps his tail gently around your calf

He near hangs his head in shame over how forward the gesture was, even for a non tiefling like you

What reassures him is hearing your laugh ring through the room, surprised eyes looking back up at you

"I'm- I am so sorry, I didn't mean to."

"Zevlor, if you want me to stay, I'd love to."

This man never wants to let you go

Rolan

I can very vividly see how exactly this would happen with Rolan

We all know this man is so, so stubborn and he hates doing what others tell him to

He's the master of Ramaziths tower, it's been a long day of lectures, he's still grading papers despite the raging cramp in his hand

So you creep into his study to try and ease him away and off to his bed

Rolans shoulders tense under your touch before relaxing again, the only response you'll get from him other than a small hum

After what feels like ages, you decide he's much too stubborn even for you

Nothing works, soft words, rubbing his shoulders gently, whispered threats-

It's only once you turn away that a sneaky tail wraps around you waist and pulls

In no time, you find yourself sitting across the wizards lap, his face pressing into your neck

His breath is warm over your skin, his tail even more so as it curls comfortably around you

Rolan sounds truly exhausted when he finally speaks

"I'll go to bed, but only if you come with me."

[psychhound]

hey yall!!! new bundle :D

this is my 14 for 14 ttrpg bundle to pay off some of the debt from my top surgery!! you get 14 games and homebrew for 14 bucks, which is gonna run until june 14th (my birthday!!)

my top surgery was absolutely life changing and has made me so much more comfortable, confident, and happy. i dont regret it in the least. i also got hit with some surprise bills afterward that have me pretty heftily in debt because of it

some very kind souls have donated their games to help me pay some of this off, which was just so incredibly generous. which means its not just my games in here!! lots and lots of cool stuff, please check it out!!

in the bundle:

ttrpgs:

[BXLLET> : a game about systems of violence and power in the weird west apocalypse

disparateum: a dream-like reality-bending game where you hop worlds and tell strange stories

little celestial fieldwork guide: a city exploration photography game where you divine hidden spirits and take photos of them

beach day!: a system agnostic party bonding minigame where characters swap gifts and secrets

what they once feared: a solo journaling game where you play a folkloric monster forced to choose your path

the narrator paradox: a one page solo game where you play a storybook narrator whos protagonist has gained agency and is trying to change the story

the fool who got married (extended): a duet epistolary game of female hardship and connection in 1848

explorers of the forever city: a rules-light, fantasy role-playing game about ordinary people making extraordinary discoveries

homebrew:

riders: a pact for moth-light by justin ford, a fitd game. tame, bond with, and ride the terrifying predator moths

witch: a class for d&d 5e. be a con-based half-caster with curses, familiars, and a whole new way of doing spell slots

harmony with the wind: a ghibli-inspired d&d 5e pack with 5 feats, 4 backgrounds, 4 races, 6 monsters, and 3 subclasses

fairytale/feywild: a pack for d&d 5e with 1 background, 2 races, 1 subclass, and unique timekeeping mechanics for the feywild

burger wizard: a d&d 5e compatible narrative rpg about working as magical kitchen staff in a fantasy restaurant

argyth's arcane companion: 4 wizard subclasses, 3 feats, and 17 new spells for d&d 5e

you can get all of this for 14 bucks until june 14th!! it would really mean a lot to me for yall to check it out and also spread the word :D

check it out on itch!!

[starberry-cupcake]

I didn't even give you time to rest and we're back for another round of this. Let's give it up for our sponsor @lady-harrowhark who has helped me get here ♥

previously, on the 1st entry of tlt, aka gideon the ninth:

this happened

also, I was made aware of the fact that there's a 4th book happening?????

??????

I thought they were three, I thought I was coming into this with all the answers out and available

emily has already explained to me the situation and I am taking it very well

I'm very at peace with the fact that I'm gonna have to wait

:)

this is how you all feel, huh?

now, get ready for harrowbean the ninth:

we start out strong with 25 new names

we got a list of lyctors and slurped cavaliers

I'm assuming the crossed out people means dead or slurped

we got another ortus, good for him, I'm gonna remember him

we got another two living new ones, it's likely I will remember an augustine, not likely I'll remember the other one

absolutely no way in hell I'm remembering their cavaliers

absolutely no way in hell I'm remembering the dead

I'm gonna have to think of new nicknames

not!dulcinea is listed and crossed out, as she should be

(the emperor's new groove, indeed)

we've got yandere simulator twin w/inner chad

BUT we'll talk about that in a sec

and then there's harrow

and where gideon should be we got g̵̙͉͚̼̾̽̓̏̾̒̒̂̎͆̕͝ͅi̸̱͍͕̎̆̾̐̇̍̀̎d̷̨̪̙̭̮̜̼͆͆e̴̡̻̰̞̓̈́̋͂̇̐̇̀̓̈́̿̅̚o̷͇̟̳̯͇̒̅͐͛̒̃͑̂͌́͝ͅ��̨̪̻̩̤n̵̢̙͔̩̗͇͎̻͕̲̮͙̞̓͆̋̈́̿͑͋̈̒͌̀͐̕̚͜͜ ̷͍̫̝̖̮̺̩͖͕̞̾̀͂s̶̖͓̗̩̹̹̥͉̘̄͑͒̾̔͋̑͝h̷̯̲̞͗ơ̵̢͕͙̤̳͎̟̳̖͕͓͋̃̀̉̔̎̈́͆̏̄ͅṷ̴̧̨̢̦̭͈̰͓̪̱̠͓̈̿͆̇̀͑͜ľ̴̨͍͖̘̠̖͎̤̮̱̻͚̑̄͑d̸̢̛̛̻̙̪͙̖̋̃̄͛̅̀̃̐̈̿̏̏͘ ̷̢͚̦̱̩̬̟̺̀̄̈́͂͋̂̄̊̾́́̾̆̄b̷̡͕̲̗͇̠̗͓̈́̍̽͊̇͜ę̴̢̡̱͓̱͉̩̖͇̠͇͎̪̟͗ ̵̪̭͔̊̿͜h̸̢̛̙͍͎͖̻̟̗̫̄̐̀̄̃̽͑̚̕͠ͅe̵̘̳͆̉̿̔͘͘r̸̦̰͌̒̐̓̽́̾͋̏͝ȩ̶̢̖̩͙̗͚̲̈́͠ͅ ̶̡͌̃̏̐̑̀̄̉̀̈́͐̀͊̀͠

👀

I don't know

I think maybe la gideon del 9 isn't totally gone

maybe it's true, maybe it's wishful thinking

maybe her soul got back into her body like when you dream you're falling

her body slurped it back like a noodle

and her demigod powers regenerated her like wolverine

and camilla removed her from the location

and they're both alive and well

don't correct me, let me have this

me, waiting for camilla to come back

after all of this info and the poem/hymn/whatnot we got a prologue which starts with "the night before the emperor's murder"

WELL

OK THEN

WHAT HAPPENED WITH BEING GOD????

the emperor's new clothes and all, he was naked all along

this man is a joke, this man is the wizard of oz, what's going on here

anyway

the prologue is in second person with harrow's pv

I think I have experienced harrow's pv before while reading gideon

hoping for her to focus on one important issue and getting frustrated was very much harrow's pv

harrow is in some sort of battle situation getting directed by the emperor and, as I understand, acting in coordination with the other living lyctors

but also harrow is doing something she shouldn't be doing and they're telling her not to do it

which is like, the harrowest thing to do

so yandere twin comes in to talk to her into moving because she'll be targeted if she stays

and there's a moment when I was like...wait a sec

they say she has blue eyes with specks of brown

didn't she have lavender eyes?????

then harrow says "you should have killed your sister, your eyes don't match your face"

?????????????

yandere twin is very insistent on the helping but also cryptic

I am starting to stan her less

she's starting to get on my nerves and it's the prologue

she also says "choke me, daddy" which

THIS IS NOT THE TIME

gideon gets to do those jokes at terrible times, not you

gideon is allowed

so harrow gets in the fight soul-first and is spitted out of the fight and has a sword through her body

we're doing great over here guys

we're just— this is fine

we're fine

it's f i n e

IT'S FINE

I'm gonna leave the next bit for the next one because this is long enough with the reaction images that I think are crucial to understanding the feelings I'm trying to convey. I'm gonna go to sleep and possibly dream of these characters again. I'll try less pictures and more stuff in the next entry. Hopefully. And maybe read the short story that comes before book 1 because Camilla is in it.

[veritas-scribblings]

more - @jegulus-microfic - words: 1,260

[technically a follow-up from yesterday's 'safe', but can be read independently]

Regulus has taken to hiding in his bedroom, the smallest bedroom in the Potter house down the hall from James and Sirius. From the yard, where James will sit with Sirius on days when it is not cold and raining, James will often see Regulus sitting on his padded bench in the bay window of his bedroom reading some book or other. Writing some thing or other in his many notebooks. Sometimes just staring. Observing.

Plotting?

James worries about all of this, which is nothing new because he’s just prone to worry. He worries about Regulus isolating himself. He worries that Regulus is being deprived of sun, because Regulus inherited the Black Family affliction of pale skin and probably requires a significant dosing of Vitamin D.

And he worries that Regulus is ignoring him. Shutting him out. Though he will not say why.

Rationally, James knows that Regulus is concerned about Sirius’s reaction, given how over-bearing Sirius has been since they left Grimmauld Place. He’s not really ignoring James; he’s just being cautious.

But the memory of Regulus is seared into his brain. Regulus sneaking around the castle with him, kissing him in little nooks and hidden corridors. Regulus spending hours talking to James about nothing and everything, laughing, poking fun, insulting James, comparing notes on quidditch, telling James stories, telling James his hopes and dreams. 

He remembers Regulus’s warmth, his scent, the feel of his skin, the touch of his hands running over James’s body, the press of his lips on James’s neck doing wonderfully wicked things. The memory of Regulus’s body pressed against his, against places no one else has ever touched, making James feel in ways no one else has ever made him feel. Making James produce sounds he’s never produced for another person.

‘Oi!’ 

James jolts in alarm when Sirius elbows him hard in the side. Warmth flushes his cheeks, and James quickly looks away hoping that his embarrassment isn’t visible. He’s thought of Regulus many times over the days they’ve been home from Hogwarts. Sometimes late at night when he’s in bed and the thoughts turn into fantasies and he wonders, imagines, what it would it would feel like if…

No. Good Merlin, he can’t go there. Not right now. Not right now, when Sirius is right beside him and he can feel the heat rushing through his body to parts that are rapidly taking an interest. James cringes and turns away, trying to conjure disgusting images as quickly as he can, because this is all just going to get so damned awkward.

Snivellus naked. Snivellus naked. Snivellus naked.  

‘Prongs!’ When Sirius goes to whack him again (James remembers being whacked by Regulus, how wonderful that had been), James quickly shifts out of the way. 

‘Huh?’ Laying on the grass, propped up on his elbows, James looks back up at Regulus curled up in his bay window staring down at them. ‘What do you think he’s doing?’

Sirius shrugs. ‘Dunno. Writing love letters? Writing sad boy poems? Plotting to take over the wizarding world? Actually…!’ Sirius sits up, grinning like he’s suddenly found the secret to world peace. ‘Hey, you can ask him!’ At James’s confusion, he gesticulates wildly. ‘Who it is!’ he clarifies. 

‘Who what is?’

Sirius hunkers down and leans over so close to James, who is still laid back on his elbows, that it leaves weird, awkward, fluttering feelings in James’s stomach. Like drunken moths trying to find a light that just isn’t there.

‘The filthy, no good, two-bit rat who is sniffing around my brother. You can ask him, he’ll tell you. I hear he’s a real…what’s the word Marlene used…playboy. I think it means he’s a whore. Like, the local town broomstick. Everyone’s had a ride.’

Excuse me? James tries not to gawp, but he’s in no way ‘the local broomstick’. Sirius has slept with more people than James has, because James has slept with a great big whopping zero of people. That’s just not who James is. He wants it to be special. He wants it to be someone he loves. Call him a romantic or whatever; James knows that it’s not ‘cool’ of him, only he doesn’t care.

Maybe, just maybe, that special someone he loves will one day be Regulus.

‘I wouldn’t say he’s a broomstick,’ James mutters, ‘the person “sniffing around your brother”.’ 

Sirius cocks an eyebrow in a way that reminds James so much of Regulus. ‘You know who the dirty rat is?’

‘No, no. Just. It’s Regulus. Like Regulus is going to let a…filthy, no good, two-bit rat…around him. He has standards, doesn’t he? He’s too clever and proper and dignified for that.’

‘Right,’ Sirius says firmly. His eyes narrow suspiciously, and he leans back, stares up at Regulus in his window. ‘Well, they’d better not. Regulus is too innocent for any of that. He’s still a baby.’

James breaks out into a grin, unable to withhold the laughter that bursts free from his chest. ‘Regulus Black is in no way “innocent”, Pads. There is nothing innocent about your brother!’

’He is too, Prongs. What are you implying?’ Sirius shoves James hard, and James goes tumbling onto the grass heaving with laughter. ‘What are you calling my brother, you little shit.’

‘Not innocent, is what I’m calling him!’ James giggles. There had been no reservations in the way Regulus had manhandled James. James knows that Regulus has never had a relationship before. And as far as James knows, Regulus has never…’been with’…anyone before, or Sirius would have absolutely decimated the person who had dared to touch his little brother. 

But Regulus had been bold. He had been shameless. And had been certain in obtaining exactly what he wanted from James.

‘I’m just saying,’ Sirius hisses, standing firmly on the hill he is prepared to die upon. ‘I’m saying Regulus is sensitive. He has a gentle heart under all those thorns and prickles and shards of glass. He deserves someone who will handle him with care. He deserves someone good, someone who will be good to him. He can't afford to be hurt, Prongs.’

James nods vigorously in agreement. He knows this. He knows it because, he thinks, Regulus has started to show James his heart, and James feels blessed because Regulus does not trust easily.

But Regulus seems to trust James. So maybe James is enough?

‘Someone…you have to approve?’ James hedges.

‘Absolutely. My blessing is the number one requirement. I also expect applications in triplicate. Character references. Criminal history checks. 15-inch written essays on why they want to get within one kilometre of Regulus. They will be interrogated and reviewed by a jury of my peers.’ Sirius flops down onto the grass, his hair fanning beneath him. ‘So, you gonna talk to him for me?’

‘Sure,’ James says. 'I can talk to him for you.'

There’s a tiny spark of hope in his heart that maybe Sirius also thinks James is enough. That James is a good person who will take care of Regulus’s heart and handle Regulus with care. That Sirius will trust James with his little brother.

James will explain that he makes Regulus smile and Regulus makes him smile. He’ll explain that they laugh together and have fun together, that James listens to Regulus’s stories and his hopes and his dreams. That James thinks Regulus is brilliant and clever and cunning and sneaky and that this makes Regulus special. That James knows how brave Regulus is, and how bold, how kind Regulus can be.

And maybe Sirius will decide that James is enough. 

[most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer]

Good Omens: Lockdown, Aziraphale’s SAD-ASS desk, and how they get to 'Our bookshop' in S2

Welcome to part 2 of me reading reeaally far into the Good Omens: Lockdown video! (part 1 from Crowley's POV here) This post assumes the item choices in the Lockdown visuals are intentional. What follows is going to be my headcanon regardless, but if you're into the Word of God, Lockdown is canon 'If you want it to be.' and I want it to be, sooo checkmate! >;D

Also this is something of a long boi (~13 minute read without following the links >.>), so if you're into unhinged analysis of details and literary references that indicate Aziraphale is in his longing era and want to learn more about author and fave-of-Gaiman, G.K. Chesterton, either get comfy or mark this to read later when you have time!

C: What? A: *somehow surprised even though HE CALLED* A-ah, hello. It's me! C: I know it's you, Aziraphale. A: *regaining composure* Yes, well, just calling to see how you were doing in lockdown.

The video starts with shots of Aziraphale and Crowley's da Vinci sketches (and some sushi remnants)... Babygirl is flipping through the time-goes-too-fast-for-me version of a facebook album, thinking about his crush. vERY chill of him. (also the paper looks new and he's eating on top of them, suggesting these are prints and he has multiple copies of them... sooo normal)

If we look closer at the still of Crowley's portrait, we can see part of the spine of a book that reads Kei- Chesterto-. This is, of course, author Gilbert Keith Chesterton, to whom Neil and Terry (and Crowley) dedicated Good Omens:

The authors would like to join the demon Crowley in dedicating this book to the memory of G. K. Chesterton A man who knew what was going on.

In this post by @azfellandco about Chesterton, you can see a photo of the dedication page and also read the book excerpt where Crowley describes Chesterton as 'the only poet in the twentieth century to even come close to the Truth'.

C: I'm bored. I'm so very very bored - transcendentally bored. There's nothing to do here!

As Crowley is explaining his nap contingency plan, we get a shot of Aziraphale picking up his mug of hot chocolate, then the image below of the 2/3rds gone bottle of Courvoisier cognac (i mean maybe he is baking with it let's not jump to conclusions), and then the stack of books beside a framed woodcut print of witches dancing with devils...

...that I used reverse image search to trace back to page 17 of a book from 1720 called The history of witches and wizards: giving a true account of all their tryals in England, Scotland, Swedeland, France, and New England; with their confession and condemnation.

Interestingly, the text above and below the picture reads:

At their Meeting they have usually Wine, or good Beer, Cakes, Meat, or the like; they Eat and Drink really: When they meet in their Bodies, Dance also, and have Musick...

Beside the framed print of Aziraphale's idea of a really great night out is a stack of books that includes (going from top to bottom):

Homer's The Iliad, Book 2

Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton

Forbidden Rites: A Necromancer's Manual of the Fifteenth Century by Richard Kieckhefer

a book by Hilaire Belloc with no visible title

The Club of Queer Trades by G.K. Chesterton

The Iliad (according to sparknotes) has the following major themes:

....Interesting, ok. Book 2 in particular starts with a god (Zeus) messing with someone (Agamemnon) via a dream that says he will be successful in taking Troy if he launches a full assault, balls to the (city) wall. Agamemnon, who is supposed to be leading the Achaean army to conquer Troy, believes the dream but then in a weird twist decides to test his army and be like 'jk actually I'm giving up and going home' and then is mad when the soldiers are like 'sick, to the boats!' Then Odysseus, who sparknotes tells me is the most eloquent of the Achaeans, gives an impressive speech to inspire the troops and reminds them that they vowed 'that they would not abandon their struggle until the city fell.' ...No way that could worsen Aziraphale's internal conflict about being a bad Angel who thwarted the Great Plan. >.>; Orthodoxy we'll get to in a second.

Then there's Forbidden Rites which is a medieval necromancy guide translated from Latin with added commentary - Aziraphale is perhaps studying occult topics in an attempt to understand Crowley better? And then there's the Hilaire Belloc book on top of the second Chesterton book, a collection of related stories/episodes?, The Club of Queer Trades. The book's Wikipedia page says:

Each story in the collection is centered on a person who is making his living by some novel and extraordinary means. To gain admittance [to the Club of Queer Trades] one must have invented a unique means of earning a living and the subsequent trade being the main source of income.

Aziraphale and Crowley have rather novel/extraordinary jobs and they're both peculiar-queer and gay-queer. Neat. The narrator in the book is named Charlie "Cherub" Swinburne - also neat. >.> He goes on an adventure with his friend, a retired judge and president of the Club of Queer Trades, Basil Grant, (who Oct 2021 GoodReads reviewer Cecily said is "described as mad, mystical, and a poet, with almost no friends, but who “would talk to any one anywhere”) and Basil's younger brother, a private detective named Inspector Constable Rupert Grant. The last line of the book is:

Thus our epic ended where it had begun, like a true cycle. (something something "It starts, as it will end, with a garden.")

Anyway, the Belloc book and The Club of Queer Trades are placed back to back in such a way that they almost look like they could be one book with two different aesthetics, or... two halves of a pantomime beast?! (stay with me I needed a segue)

Belloc and Chesterton have what is essentially a ship name:

It was coined by George Bernard Shaw (if you are like me and didn't know why you've heard of him: he wrote, among other things, Pygmalion, which was adapted into My Fair Lady). Shaw apparently liked to gossip about Belloc and Chesterton with H.G. Wells (again if you're uncultured like me: he wrote, among other science fiction-y things, The War of the Worlds).

In the Feb 15, 1908 issue of The New Age newspaper, Shaw said:

He continued:

"Chesterton and Belloc are so unlike that they get frightfully into one another’s way. ... They are unlike in everything except the specific literary genius and delight in play-acting that is common to them, and that threw them into one another’s arms.”

Shaw says Belloc is 'a bit of a rowdy', and 'cannot bear isolation'. Hmm. Then he says Chesterton is 'friendly, easy-going, unaffected, gentle, magnanimous, and genuinely democratic'. HMM.

“They share one failing—almost the only specific trait they have in common except their literary talent. That failing is, I grieve to say, addiction to the pleasures of the table.”

Ok ok I think we can see where this is going.

(^ from Staged S3E6)

Now, someone did ask Neil Gaiman about this similarity, and he said the Lockdown video was filmed by Rob Wilkins in Terry Pratchett's library, and that he suspects 'Belloc is there because he was on Terry's shelves beside Chesterton.' And it MAY VERY WELL BE that NONE (0) of the book titles are meant in any way other than 'these are books from Sir Pratchett's library that looked nice on camera and ofc we wanted some Chesterton refs and maybe some demon-y stuff for Crowley' but that is WAY less fun so I am choosing to take them as intentional: these are books Aziraphale is actually reading (along with the sushi and many cakes he is actually eating). Let's put ourselves in Aziraphale's shoes and try to imagine how it would be to read this stuff during lockdown while you pine for a demon with slinky hips after you got in big trouble at work for Armageddoff (and work happens to have defined your worldview and general purpose in life).

C: welll... ngk then people might follow my bad example and get ill. Or even die—

As Crowley acknowledges that he ought to be out making peoples' lives worse, we see Orthodoxy by Chesterton open on the desk.

Orthodoxy is described as a ‘spiritual autobiography’ and is considered a classic of Christian apologetics, i.e. the religious discipline of defending religious doctrines (in this case, Catholic) through systematic argumentation and discourse. Wikipedia also says Chesterton's The Everlasting Man contributed to C.S. Lewis' conversion to Christianity, so overall it sounds like he must've been fairly convincing. (and so maybe reading it also poked at that work-related-but-religious-trauma-adjacent stuff Aziraphale has going on?)

You can read Orthodoxy (and probably any of the books I mention bc theyre all old) on project gutenberg but I will include this part of what is shown on the righthand page bc it just reminds me (and so probably Azirapalala as well) of a certain angel squeaking happily at a nebula:

"I felt economical about the stars as if they were sapphires (they are called so in Milton's Eden): I hoarded the hills. For the universe is a single jewel, and while it is a natural cant to talk of a jewel as peerless and priceless, of this jewel it is literally true. This cosmos is indeed without peer and without price: for there cannot be another one."

Ok great, so Aziraphale is diving into the works of one of Crowley's favorite authors bc he misses him, that's cute. What else? Oh he already wrote him a letter right before calling - THE WICK ON THE WAX STICK FOR THE SEAL IS STILL SMOKING. sO CASUAL asdashgfjds

something something 'either call on the phone and talk, or appear mysteriously; don't do both'

When Aziraphale gets to 'I've never had so few customers, not in two hundred years!' We get a close up of this glass of cognac with droplets still on the side — I take back what I said about baking, Aziraphale is drinking it~

He's not drinking a wine, eg Châteauneuf-du-pape, which would be ~14% alcohol by volume (ABV), or a sherry (15-20% ABV); he is drinking Courvoisier cognac, a hard liquor (40% ABV). Crowley's Talisker whisky is 48.5% while we are on the topic. This is stronger than what Aziraphale usually drinks which means... he could be a bit tipsy.

As Aziraphale starts talking about the would-be cash-box burglary, we get this wide shot of the desk:

In the top left hand corner, we see two stacks of books, most (all?) of which appear to be Chesterton when I zoom in. Some of them have Chesterton's name visible on them, others have the publisher name 'Darwen Finlayson' on them, which according to my googling is a house that published several of Chesterton's works. If Chesterton was truly 'a man who knew what was going on', then perhaps this is Aziraphale seeking not just to feel closer to Crowley, but also to make sense of the warring ideas in his mind. Interestingly, Chesterton has also been described as 'The Eccentric Prince of Paradox'.

C: *clearly amused* Did you smite them with your wroth?

The screen then shows two occult-y books and a flickering candle (lower left image). Then Aziraphale explains about his cake~, and as Crowley cuts him off because he's about to nervously ask to come over bc he is so so lonely & down bad for a certain angelic bookworm, we see a map of Oxfordshire on top of Pilgrim's Progress (lower right image).

The two books beside the candle are Satanism and Witchcraft (presumably the 1862 book by Jules Michelet that comes up when I search the title), and another called Magic: An Occult Primer.

Satanism and Witchcraft is described on Wikipedia as 'notable for being one of the first sympathetic histories of witchcraft' and says 'Michelet was one of the first few people to attempt to show the sociological explanation of the Witch Trials.’ Sympathy for people who like to eat/drink/dance with demons, if you will?

Magic: An Occult Primer is a 1972 book by David Conway, a Welsh (CACHU HWCH!) magus and is described as 'a seminal work that brought magical training to the every-magician'. It also includes an appendix called The Occult Who's Who, which is somewhat reminiscent of Hastur's Furfur's book about angels. In Chapter 11: A Word About Demons, it says in regard to summoning them:

"Assuming that the form has turned up in the right place, it will soon begin to act and talk in a very friendly manner; do not forget, however, that its winning ways conceal a sinister intention-- namely, to get the adept out of the circle, and into its clutches.”

...okay?? Aziraphale's desk has a flickering candle on it throughout the video, and we get a close up of the flame when Crowley offers to slither over:

and just like that, Aziraphale has summoned a demon~~

Naturally, he freaks out:

A: *panicking*Oh I— I— I— I— I'm afraid that would be Breaking All The Rules! *nervous breathing* Out of the question! I'll see you… when this is over.

But why? Isn't this what he wanted? Let's go back to the Pilgrim's Progress shot from right before the successful demon summoning and zoom in:

In a similar vein to Orthodoxy, Pilgrim's Progress, by John Bunyan, is an allegorical Puritan conversion narrative. Christian is the main character / stand in for anyone who wants to be in the allegory and Hopeful is well, hopeful, from what I gather. A slightly larger continuous excerpt is here for the curious, but here are some bits I thought were especially interesting in the part of the book shown above:

Christian: Why, what was it that brought your sins to mind again? Hopeful: Many things; as, If I did but meet a good man in the streets; or, If I have heard any read in the Bible; or, If mine head did begin to ache; or, If I were told that some of my neighbors were sick; or, If I heard the bell toll for some that were dead; or, If I thought of dying myself; or, If I heard that sudden death happened to others; But especially when I thought of myself that I must quickly come to judgment.

Perhaps the pandemic is bringing Aziraphale's "sins" to mind again, on top of the whole choosing faces thing to avoid 'quickly coming to judgment'. And then:

Hopeful: I thought I must endeavor to mend my life; for else, thought I, I am sure to be lost forever. Christian: And did you endeavor to mend? Hopeful: Yes, and fled from not only my sins, but sinful company too, and betook me to religious duties, as praying, reading, weeping for sin, speaking truth to my neighbors, etc.

UM??? While I can't say about the praying or weeping for sin, he has definitely been reading and the whole 'giving a good talking to' the burglars could be 'speaking truth to [the] neighbors'...?

Anyway to recap:

Aziraphale has been poring over books about dark magic and demons as well as a ton of books by an author that Crowley loves and who formed a partnership w a very different person in a sort of yin-yang, pantomime beast situation

He has been looking at pictures that remind him of their fun times w Leo in Florence and eating sushi and cake cake cake (and forgiving sinners) and drinking hot chocolate and cognac trying to fill a void but now he's tipsy so he wrote Crowley a letter, stamped it with a wax seal and then thought 'I should call her' BUT

His recent brush with attempted death penalties, the death toll of the pandemic, and some of the religious books he was reading have also filled him with guilt/fear over disobeying Heaven, who he knows could still be watching him and Crowley, so he feels much more conflicted than usual AND

He probably has some inkling that he wants to go ape shit on that ox rib if it comes over to hang out (lol editing to add bc i remembered ox rib discourse: ape shit in an emotional way! whether you hc them as ace or not I just think he really likes him and I’m using ox ribs as a stand in for general forbidden joy/love, not specifically sexy stuff)

So he has to say no.

Anything else might cause him to spontaneously discorporate into a plume of pining and cognitively dissonant gay smoke, which may be all well and good if you only think there's a God, but if you KNOW it and the angels are absolutely recording you and Heaven just tried to kill you and your wife colleague, it's... kind of a big deal.

C: Right. gnnehh. I'm setting the alarm clock for July. Good night, angel. *dial tone*

We don't get to hear Aziraphale's response, but besties you and I both know he is not feeling tickety-boo. He spent like a month putting off calling Crowley (UK lockdowns started end of March, the call is at the beginning of May), finally got drunk and said what the Hell, it'll just be a fun flirty chat in between his temptations, and then it turned out Crowley was depressed and not going anywhere and Aziraphale made him even sadder. And then it got worse because it wasn't all over in July, or in October, even.

I think Aziraphale ends up with a lot of time and brain space in which to think about how Orthodoxy and Pilgrim's Progress were only written to guide *mortals* and how it really wouldn't be so bad if he spent more time with Crowley, would it? Heaven hasn't reached out in actual years again, things feel safer. Crowley is essentially Good and spending time with him would be sort of ministering to the downtrodden and afflicted, and Aziraphale does miss reporting his good deeds (lol you know, whatever rationalizations you need to get you there).

More than anything, he thinks about how hollow everything feels without Crowley; how no mouthful of food or drink tastes as satisfying in his absence because it wasn't ever just about the 'gross matter'...

So when lockdowns end, Aziraphale begins to summon his demon again, but this time with much less inner struggling. It all comes so naturally, when you let it. By the beginning of Season 2 in 2023, they seem delightfully comfortable with their shared routines and places (see also this lovely post by @nightgoodomens). Our car. Our bookshop.

Aziraphale might take longer to catch up, but he does get there.

(SHHH DON'T THINK ABOUT EPISODE 6! STOP! I'M HANGING UP!)

“The way to love anything is to realize that it may be lost.” ― G.K. Chesterton

[rainbowgod666]

A few oddities on the funny floating island of the tumbler

Over 65% of spells are related to henital punishments

@the-gnomish-bastard's tower: scanning and FreeCam didnt show any sort of system to move the island so yeah, his "dont fuck with the tower" makes sense because theres nothing to fuck with. However: the tunnel leading to his horde (the one with anachronistic dragons due to yours truly) is... not the only one. Theres a second tunnel leading into the gnome's Personal Piggy Bank and let me tell you. That shit is long and worrying, there are NO RATS in THAT tunnel.

@official-megumin: HER HOUSE IS CUP SHAPED AND THE ROOF IS HER HAT (squeals like a fucking anime girl)

Most of the island is... empty. Trees trees trees and maybe some critters but everything else is accessible through clearly mapped portals. Deep Reality Analitic Scanning yielded NOTHING either when the island was lifted, currently, or when itsgoing to be destroyed. Which means its either Like That From Before The Wizards, or Faunocide.

The area around my base (which is basically in a crater) is even MORE uninhabited. I tried it all: the rats, the gnome's fungus, ants... it doesnt "stick".

Turns out im immune to fucking chronological manipulation. Maybe i added "chronosapien bullshit" to my splicing and just... did not remember??? Huh.

On that note, this explains why lancer rpg's whole "lich licenses are retroactive" thing doesnt work on me. Cool huh.

Turns out this place is a few thousand miles off the USA east coast. Neat.

Internet and cable work here, but piracy is still based

I heard of "revolutionaries", what i dont get of them is why their boss looks REALLY similar to Sabo from one piece

Found the bowl of the original stew arcanum: someone stole it and used high-dimensionality to hide it... RIGHT where @the-illegal-wizard-council put their access. Good thing i have more dimensions than inches on my di

Theres a shrine to @nyancrimew. For some reason. I dont know but it looks cool. Left some flowers there cause it felt like the right thing to do. Idk

Theres a strange version of american wood bamboo (a thing that exists but isnt called like that) but metallic growing on the southeast side, and analysis shows that those are... caused by my presence. Whoops.

I saw TF2 POOTIS ENGAGE HEAVY in the forest. Not fucking with that

There is a portal (which didnt exist until my arrival so its probably some kinda fracture in spacetime) that apparently shows something like the future. I saw a bunch of wizardblr users crucifed and my literal corpse on a shining marble throne. Whats up with that huh?

The Fungus fears me. Which is dumb cause dude im not gonna use all of you for rice you dumb fuck-

Someone owns a giant rooster simply called "Mr.Cock". Not sure why tho... considering the name arrived to the new owner in a dream

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x reader

CHAPTER NINE (see full series list here)

1993

You sip your tea, actually up in time for breakfast for once. Because of the night-time nature of your subject, you tend to go to bed later than the rest of the school and wake up later. It means you're especially close to the kitchen's house elves, as they often prepare you breakfast for when you eventually do get up. Especially Bitsy. You've taken to buying her film for her camera every Christmas, but it doesn't last long as she takes pictures of everything, including you.

"You know, I had the strangest dream last night," you say to Remus beside you.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mhm, I was in a sort of muggle circus tent, right? But it was on fire. And there was this guy there, wearing like a weird three-foot tall wizard's hat that morphed into this odd kind of wig afterwards," you recall. "And then, I kinda thought, 'hey, maybe I should use my wand to put out this fire' but instead of putting it out I transported it to Madam Puddifoot's."

Remus blinks at you, and you try and stop the smile from appearing on your face.

"You know what? That is a strange dream," he responds, shaking his head and you laugh.

"I know! It was so weird."

"Oh, I actually read something about dreams recently," Remus says thoughtfully. "Apparently they reflect things going on in your life."

You snort. "What, my desire to set Madam Puddifoot's on fire? I mean, I suppose it's not wrong..."

There's loud noise at the Gryffindor table, even students from other houses going over to it. You lean your head to the side to see Harry sitting at the table, grinning proudly at his Firebolt. You chuckle, looking down the table at Professor McGonagall.

"He got his broom back, so?" You say and she nods.

"Yes, couldn't find anything wrong with it, thankfully. And I must say, never have I seen a student so happy with something I have told him," she remarks and you grin.

"A Gryffindor win this year, perhaps?"

"Oh, I do hope so."

"You would only be so lucky," Snape says snidely beside her and you scoff.

"Don't need luck with that broom, right Severus?" You say cheekily and he raises his eyebrows disdainfully at you.

"At least my house have skill, and do not rely on their broomsticks to do the work for them."

"You're just jealous 'cause you want a spin on the Firebolt, Severus," you tease, returning to your breakfast.

Later, you sit with Remus in the Quidditch stands, looking out at the pitch in the cool, clear air.

"Merlin, I hope they win. I'm after placing a five-galleon bet with Filius that we win," you say, watching as the two captains shake hands and Madam Hooch blows her whistle to set off.

"You can't say 'we'," Remus says with a sigh. "We're supposed to be impartial, remember?"

"Ah, you hardly think any of these teachers are impartial, do you?" you laugh. "Sure even Dumbledore leans to Gryffindor just a little."

Lee Jordan's voice can be heard over the stands.

"They're off, and the big excitement this match is the Firebolt which Harry Potter is flying for Gryffindor. According to Which Broomstick, the Firebolt's going to be the broom of choice for the national teams at this year's World Championship — "

"Jordan, would you mind telling us what is going on in the match?" interrupts McGonagall's voice.

"Right you are, Professor — just giving a bit of background information. The Firebolt, incidentally, has a built in auto-brake and — "

"Jordan!"

"Okay, okay, Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor heading for goal..."

Remus chuckles beside you, nudging you with his elbow. "Mr Jordan reminds me of someone."

You roll your eyes, laughing. "I can't say that you're too far off...he can definitely give me a run for my money. I think my title of Best Commentator in the History of the World is in danger."

"Oh? And where were you given this prestigious award? The Academy of Modesty?"

You cackle, throwing your head back in laughter. "You witty bastard."

You watch as Harry zooms past on his broomstick, the Ravenclaw Seeker, Cho Chang, tailing after him.

"Gryffindor lead by eighty points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter's really putting it through its paces now. See it turn — Chang's Comet is just no match for it. The Firebolt's precision-balance is really noticeable in these long — "

"JORDAN! ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? GET ON WITH THE COMMENTARY!"

Harry suddenly dives to the ground and you hold your breath, thinking he's seen the Snitch, but then he pulls up sharply and heads for the Ravenclaw end of the pitch, accelerating. Cho Chang follows suit, before she lets out a scream and points at three tall, black, hooded Dementors looking up at Harry.

You and Remus both turn to each other before quickly turning back to the match, just in time to see Harry produce his wand and yell, "Expecto patronum!"

A large silver stag erupts from Harry's wand and throws itself at the Dementors and knocks them off their feet —

Wait, their feet?

As you squint at the dark figures, you make out four young boys tangled in dark cloaks and click your tongue in disappointment, just as Harry grabs the Snitch and the stadium explodes into cheers.

You and Remus stand and leave your seats like the rest of the supporters, the Gryffindors rapidly streaming onto the pitch in celebration.

"You saw what I saw, right?" you ask.

"If you saw four boys playing dress-up as Dementors, then yes."

You find the four boys, immediately recognizing the faces of Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle and Marcus Flint.

"Well, well, well," you tut, hands on your hips as you look down at the heap of Slytherins. "Bet you regret doing that now, eh boys?"

They groan collectively and soon enough, McGonagall approaches with an expression of pure fury on her face. She starts to yell, and then Remus arrives with Harry in tow, and you don't miss the look on Harry's face at the sorry site in front of him.

"An unworthy trick!" McGonagall shouts. "A low and cowardly attempt to sabotage the Gryffindor Seeker! Detention for all of you, and fifty points from Slytherin! I shall be speaking Professor Dumbledore about this, make no mistake! Ah, here he comes now!"

You grin at Harry, whispering, "Excellent Patronus, Harry!"

He beams proudly.

An great victory for Gryffindor indeed, especially considering you're five-galleons richer as you return to your bedroom.

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

Sharp knocking on your door jolts you awake that night, and you quickly swing your legs over and out of your bed to answer the incessant knocking. Dubh meows angrily at the interruption of her sleep, as if she doesn't sleep the whole day anyway.

"I'm coming, I'm coming..." you quickly leave your bedroom and enter your small office, unlocking the door and swinging it open. "Minerva?"

"Sirius Black has broken into the school again," she tells you quickly. "Ronald Weasley said he was standing over him with a knife not too long ago."

You feel your mouth drop, unable to form any cohesive sentences as your brain tries to wrap around the information you've just gotten. "What?"

She nods, a grim look on her face. "I am terribly sorry about this...but I do need to check your room."

You nod wordlessly, opening the door for her to step in. "Yeah, yeah, go ahead..."

McGonagall does a quick sweep of your office and bedroom, stopping to give Dubh a brief few pets before she returns to your side at the door, shaking her head.

"Nothing here, of course," she says. "Will you accompany me in my search of the rest of the castle?"

You give her a confused look. "Are you sure? I thought Dumbledore doesn't want me to be involved in any searches like this...lest I sabotage it."

McGonagall scoffs. "I trust you. I know you are not stupid enough to let him into the castle, let alone let him out of your sight if you had. "

You give her a small smile. "Thanks." You grab the keys to your room and step outside, closing it behind you and locking it firmly. "Alright, let's go..."

You walk down the hallway together, wands shining light and at the ready. "How the bloody hell did he get into Gryffindor Tower? Did he attack Sir Cadogan too?"

McGonagall kisses her teeth, shaking her head in frustration. "No. Neville Longbottom was so incredibly foolish he wrote down the whole week's passwords and then left them lying around for anyone to find."

You sigh. "Oh, Neville...poor, forgetful Neville."

You scour the halls together, occasionally passing Professors Vector and Flitwick on their own search, but end up finding no trace of Sirius anywhere.

You bid goodbye to McGonagall and return to your room. As you unlock the door, you half expect to find him on the other side, but when you open it there's no one there, just your desk, messily covered with parchment and quills.

You return to your bed, but can't sleep at all so you choose to sit up and read more of the book you've been reading lately. Dubh stretches, jumping up onto your bed to nestle herself in your lap, purring softly. You pause to reach out and scratch her ears, before returning to your book.

Why was Sirius standing over Ron Weasley with a knife? It just doesn't make sense to you. You really are beginning to think he did truly go mad. And there's no way Ron dreamt it because Sir Cadogan confirmed that he did let him in...so why? Why would he do that? He wasn't actually going to murder an innocent boy like that, was he? He wasn't going to really take someone's life just like that, was he?

You reach the end of your page and realise that your eyes are just looking at the words and not actually taking them in. So finally, you step out of your bed and choose to do what you always do when you can't sleep: stargaze.

You shrug on a warm hoodie and a pair of slippers, grab your wand and leave. Dubh decides to follow and the two of you make your way up the Astronomy Tower. You sit beside the railing, legs dangling out over the edge as you grip the railing, looking up into the dark sky above. Dubh wanders around the room, sniffing various objects and rubbing up against them, before eventually she settles on curling up beside you and closing her eyes.

It's a clear night thankfully, and you can see all the twinkling stars perfectly. Beautiful, flaming objects of gas that are millions and billions of light years away from you. It's crazy to think that you are just one small, near-imperceptible speck on the ever-growing canvas of the universe. It's what drew you to astronomy in the first place. The study of space, because that's all it is. Space. That idea that, really, nothing matters at all. The world does not revolve around you. It never has, and it never will.

It's something that's always fuelled you to stop worrying about things. Why spend your time on this earth, your beautiful one-in-an-infinity chance to live, worrying about things? Though you say that, you can't help but worry anyway. You worry about Sirius, you worry about your friends, your family, your students, your godson, your cat, your job. Because even though the world doesn't revolve around you, your world revolves around the things and people you love.

A thin line of light streaks through the sky and you silently wish for peace from the thoughts that trouble you.

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

Security is noticeably tightened around the castle the next day. Filch is boarding up every crack and mouse hole in the castle; Flitwick teaches the front doors to recognise a picture of Sirius; and with Sir Cadogan sacked and the Fat Lady restored, big security trolls now patrol around her portrait, grunting at each other and comparing the size of their clubs.

You miss breakfast again, and tickle the pear on the fruit painting outside the kitchen, stepping inside quickly. The house elves all look up and greet you, immediately setting to work on something for your breakfast. Bitsy runs up to you excitedly, camera swinging around her neck.

"Hello, mistress!" she squeaks, holding up her camera. "Say 'cheers'!"

"Cheers...?" you say quizzically and there's a flash from Bitsy's camera.

A photo slowly emerges out the end of the camera and she shakes it excitedly, thrusting it into your face. Sure enough, there you are, mouthing the word 'cheers' with a confused expression.

You chuckle lightly, pushing the photo down out of your eye line gently. "Lovely, Bitsy. You could be a professional photographer at this rate!"

She grins wide, her big brown eyes twinkling. "Thank you, mistress!"

"Oh, and the word is 'cheese', not 'cheers', Bitsy," you say with a small laugh and she lets out a loud "Oh!".

Then you're presented with a tray of breakfast from another house elf, and you accept it gratefully as the elf bows. You sit down at a small table, tucking into a breakfast of fruit, pancakes and a great mug of tea.

You drain the mug, though you find you haven't got much of an appetite and give the house elves in front of you an apologetic look. "I'm awfully sorry, but my appetite just isn't there. Thank you all very much."

Bitsy bows with a smile. "That's okay, mistress! Bitsy is happy to help!"

"Bitsy is not the only house elf that prepared mistress's breakfast," another elf says with a scowl.

You chuckle lightly, smiling. "Don't worry, I am well aware. Thank you very much."

You turn to leave but are stopped by Bitsy. "Oh, mistress, the Headmaster told Bitsy to tell you he wants to see you in his office! He also said he really likes Bubbling Bonzies!"

You raise your eyebrows, nodding. "Oh, right. Okay. Thanks, Bitsy."

You leave, knowing well what Dumbledore wants to see you about. It's certainly not a raise in your pay, anyway. As you move through the castle, you pass Ron Weasley standing with Harry and relaying his chilling tale to a few second-year girls.

" — and I saw him standing over me, like a skeleton...with loads of filthy hair...holding this great long knife, must've been twelve inches..."

You continue walking past them, shaking your head, and it's not long before you arrive outside the entrance to Dumbledore's office. "Bubbling Bonzies," you say to the stone gargoyle. The wall starts to move and a spiral staircase is revealed to you. You make your way up and knock on the door to Dumbledore's office.

"Come in."

You push the door open, finding Dumbledore sitting at his desk and sitting in front of him, is none other than the Minister of Magic.

"Minister," you say in slight surprise, walking further into the room. Dumbledore gestures for you to sit down beside Fudge and you do, eyeing him warily.

"Now, Professor...I am sure you know why I have called you here," Dumbledore says and you nod.

"Yes, Headmaster."

"It is my understanding," Fudge says, turning his head to you, "that Sirius Black once again broke into the school and this time he successfully managed to get into Gryffindor Tower, terrifying the students there."

"You'd be right about that, Minister."

"What is your involvement?" Fudge demands, and you turn to him in disbelief.

"What is my involvement?" you repeat, glaring at him. "I didn't have any!"

Fudge scoffs. "It is more than just a coincidence that Black has managed to get into the school more than once! How did he do it?"

"I don't know, ask him!"

"Stop your denying!" Fudge snaps. "I have given you the benefit of the doubt time and time again, but I have had it up to here! Did you help Sirius Black get into this castle?"

"No, of course not!"

"Cornelius, please," Dumbledore intervenes calmly, bringing a hand up to silence the both of you. He looks at you. "Professor, please, can you tell us what you were doing last night after the Quidditch match?"

You sigh, kissing your teeth. "Alright. After the match, I went back to my quarters. I worked on a few things from my fifth-years, then I went to bed."

"What exactly did you work on?" Fudge demands.

"Essays on the relationship between Saturn's moons and its rings," you reply bitterly.

Dumbledore motions for you to continue. "Then, at around half one or so, Professor McGonagall came and informed me of the break-in. Then we searched the castle together, found no one, and I returned to my bedroom. Then I read a book, tried to sleep but couldn't, and went up to the Tower to stargaze."

"A likely story," Fudge mumbles under his breath.

"See, Cornelius? A perfect alibi," Dumbledore says.

"Perfect alibi? She was practically alone the whole time!"

You scoff. "Minister, honestly, what reason would I have to let him into the castle? Do you think I want him to go around scaring the life out of my students?"

"I — I don't know! How else could he have gotten in? He would have needed inside help."

"Take a walk, Minister. Don't you think that a man capable of breaking out of Azkaban on his own is capable of breaking in to Hogwarts on his own?"

"But — the Dementors — "

"If the Dementors didn't catch him then that's not my problem," you snap. "If they're really so hell-bent on giving him that Kiss then they ought to work a little harder."

Fudge doesn't respond.

"A lovely thing, by the way. The Dementors' Kiss."

Fudge makes a noise, halfway between a frustrated growl and a sigh. "He is a murderer. He deserves no better fate."

"No one deserves that fate other than Voldemort himself."

Fudge winces, hissing, "Don't speak that name!"

"Coward," you mutter under your breath, and Fudge doesn't hear it. "You didn't give Sirius a trial last time, why give him one this time? You're so kind, Minister."

"Please, Minister, let us put this matter to rest," Dumbledore says. "I have the utmost faith in my staff. I know she wouldn't do anything to jeopardize the safety of her students."

"I really, honestly, wouldn't," you say to Fudge earnestly. "I love my job and I love this school and I love my students. I would never do anything to hurt them."

It's quiet for a moment, before Fudge speaks, "Do you still think he is innocent?"

You don't respond.

Fudge silently fumes in his seat and Dumbledore says, "I think that is enough. You may go, Professor."

You breathe a sigh of relief. "Thank you, Headmaster." You give Fudge a parting glare and depart from the office, closing the door behind you.

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter ten here!

[spinchip]

Zane peeks over Dot’s shoulder where she’s curled up on the couch reading a book. “What are you reading?”

It’s a testament to how normalized being haunted is for her when she doesn’t even flinch. She glances over at him before dog-earing the page and putting her book down. She glances around the room to make sure no one is within ear-shot, “Romance book. Princess is kidnapped, a knight goes to save her, the wizard who kidnapped her falls in love with her- Oh, the Knight is also in love with her. Classic love triangle.” She shrugs before pinning him with a playfully pointed glare, “Nice of you to show up. It was my turn to make dinner tonight y'know, And everyone is always raving about your cooking. I could have used your help!”

He has the good graces to look apologetic, “How long have I been gone for this time?” he asks.

“Just one day.” she reassures him, “Not too long.”

“Ah, good.” He murmurs.

“Hey, you’ve never told me- where do you go?” Tilting her head, she clarifies, “Like when you vanish for days at a time. Where do you disappear off to?”

He feigns sitting on the arm of the couch. He can’t actually interact with the physical world in any way, but it makes him feel more grounded to pretend, “I do not know.” He admits, “Someplace dark and quiet… similar to the space between dreams.”

“So it’s like you're sleeping?”

“Not quite. I can still sleep, like during the times when you need your privacy. That is different from this.” he thinks on it for a moment, “I can sleep in that place, too. So I am awake when I am pulled there.”

She makes a humming noise, “Do you think it’s a place in Ninjago?”

“It is a possibility.” he frowns, “I cannot be sure.”

She worries her fingers over the edge of the knee joint on her prosthetic, “Are you sure it’s a good idea to keep everything a secret from the others?”

She watches him deflate a little, his whole body slumping in a soul-deep sadness, “I do not want to keep this from the others, but it is necessary. These black out episodes are proof of that… I am not stable. Whatever is keeping me here may not be permanent, and from our research so far there is no way to bring me back. Telling the others may just be giving them false hope.”

“Yeah…” she sighs, “If I told them you were still around and then you vanished for good, it'd be like you died all over again.”

“That is one way to put it.” He smiles grimly.

There’s a pause, “It’s hard for me too.” She admits softly. “I mean, not so much now because I’m used to you going MIA… but you were gone for a whole week once, and I was afraid you were gone. What if I can't find a way to bring you back before you’re stuck in that place forever?”

“Dot,” He says gently, placing a hand on top of her own. There’s no sensation on her skin, it’s like he’s not even touching her at all, “I chose this when I destroyed the overlord. Whatever happens is not your fault. I am at peace with my actions.” He reassures her.

“I just… can’t imagine life without you anymore, y’know?”

“I would miss you too.” He pats her hand just to do it, “I believe we will find an answer, and if we do not then that is just how it was meant to be. You will have ice… even if my presence is gone, I will always be with you.”

“You’re a big sap when you want to be.” She sniffs, rubbing at her eye.

“I am actually a regular sized robot.” he informs her with a snarks grin.

She shakes her head, “A regular sized robot who is not funny.”

“Of course not. I have not turned on my funny switch.”

“Your what?”

[that-ari-blogger]

Wicked's Existential Crisis

Deception is a big theme in Wicked. I don't think this is news to many people. The wizard is a wizard, truth is truth, happy is what happens when all your dreams come true.

Galinda embodies this pretty heavily, but so does Fiyero, although they do so in similar ways. They both lie to others, and realise that they have been lying to themselves later on.

But, you need a baseline before you get to character development. You need a benchmark for everyone to either move up or down from, depending on the genre.

In my opinion, Dancing Through Life establishes that benchmark, while asking a few more philosophical questions as it does.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD

"Dancing through life, Down at the Oz Dust If only because dust Is what we come to. Nothing matters, But knowing nothing matters, It's just life So keep dancing through"

Fiyero, buddy, friend, pal... are you ok?

Dancing Through Life is the introduction of Fiyero, and there is a enormous difference between what he is saying and how he is saying it.

That dust line is actually a biblical allusion, with various Judeo-Christian books and prayers claiming that G-d created humans from dust, and that when someone dies, they return to that dust. Hence the "ashes to ashes, dust to dust" saying (source). So, Fiyero is nihilistic.

"Nothing matters, so why bother trying" is such a morbid idea, and its usually associated with emo music, either lots of drums and raw emotions, or quiet and sad. So, when Fiyero sings it as a musical theatre, bombastic full orchestra song, his message flies under the radar because it is so dissonant with the style.

That's the key here. Most of the time, people are nuanced, and stereotypes do not encompass the human experience at all. The emotionally confused or depressed or spiraling person isn't the one who sits in the moonlight writing sappy poetry, it's the person who manages to hide it the most easily because they've been doing it for the longest.

Fiyero is putting up a mask to hide his insecurities, and he is doing it by... not wearing a mask?

Lampshading is the practice of softening elements in a piece of media, letting the audience know that something is out of order or farcical, and turning it into a joke. Overly Sarcastic Productions (@comicaurora) has a video explaining the trope in detail.

In a weird way, this is what Fiyero is doing. He is turning his own crisis into a joke. He doesn't have to hide it if he can poke fun at it. He becomes self-referential, and tells people to move on past the words he is saying and focus on the fun dancing and music.

I see where Fiyero is coming from, here. Purpose is difficult to find in this world, and it definitely seems like neither good or bad are rewarded, and luck will do what it will. But I would like to present a counter point.

Everything Everywhere All At Once was easily the most emotionally powerful film of 2022, and it also discussed nihilism in detail. I don't want to get into plot spoilers, but this movie asks the question: If nothing matters, then what?

And the answer to this is clear: Everything. In a Cinema Therapy video on the film, Johnothan Decker states this:

"If nothing we do matters, then the only thing that matters is what we do."

Actions have whatever meaning we ascribe to them, and if we ascribe no meaning to anything, then everything has meaning on the same level. If nothing matters, then everything matters.

This segways into another core question of the musical and especially this song. Do intentions matter?

Galinda and Elphaba have a comedy of errors with the gift giving, specifically when Galinda sets up Nessa with Boq, and Elphaba arranges for her to receive a wand in return, contrasted with the infamous hat.

Galinda does things for personal gain, and accidentally makes someone's life slightly better for a moment, and Boq kind of does the same. Neither of the two cares about Nessarose, but they bring her happiness in the short term.

"We deserve each other, and Galinda helped it come true."

I mentioned in my post about The Wizard And I that this theme comes up there first, in association with meeting the wizard, and I think there is something else to it than just deception. Don't get me wrong, this is deception at work, Elphaba with the Wizard and Nessa with everyone around her. But that lie has a positive result here, for the moment.

It also separates the consequences from the intention. Elphaba sees the wizard and wants to improve the world, her hopes are on rocky foundations, but her actions are strong, and I have already mentioned what Galinda's actions do.

However, I would argue that intentions do matter, and that this musical agrees with me, and that is with Boq, a person whom I despise.

As a character, Boq is fascinating. He is a direct satire of the hopeless romantic of stereotypical fairy tales, think Ariel from The Little Mermaid, or Lancelot from the 1963 movie, Lancelot and Guenevere. Boq is trying desperately to court someone who does not care about him and has someone who does care fall from the sky in front of him, but he can't see past himself.

Now, pining is all well and good, you are allowed to pine, and if someone is attracted to you, there is no law that says you must be attracted back. But Boq goes a step further.

"It's because I'm in this chair and you felt sorry for me. Isn't that right?" "No! No! It's because you are so beautiful."

Boq had an opportunity to back out of the romance handed to him on a silver platter. He could have said it was just a dance, or even confessed that Galinda put him up to it, if he so desired. But Boq made a choice to keep stringing Nessarose along. He may have his reasons, but I think his actions are not excusable, and the gut punch at the end of the musical when he tells her that he never cared is a betrayal that could have been so easily avoided.

Boq and Fiyero go on to become key players in the "death" of the Wicked Witch of the West, and they do so for alternative reasons, and it reframes Dorothy's journey.

For a more nuanced explanation of what I mean, consider this: In 2019, youtuber Hbomberguy (Harry Brewis) raised $347000 for a Brittish charity organisation called Mermaids in a livestream of Donkey Kong 64, and he gave a speech in October of that year about why he did such a thing.

"I think secretly, we're always making one of two decisions, and we make that decision even if we don't know we're making it. You're either choosing to make life worse for someone you don't like, or better for people you care about. There is an actual difference, and I didn't realise I made the wrong choice until a lot of people came over and helped change the choice retrospectively."

What you are trying to do matters, because if you keep trying to do good, even if you hit roadblocks, if you are truly committed, you will eventually do some good in the world.

I actually like Brewis' definition of right and wrong here, because it isn't overly philosophical, it pertains to individual actions. You either make someone else's life better or worse.

I have been rambling around my point for a while, so let me make it concise. Dancing Through Life asks philosophical questions about life. What matters? Is it you? Is it your actions? Is it your intentions?

Final Thoughts

There are two other things I need to mention before I finish. First up, the extras are some of the best parts of this musical, and in this song, that is driven home. Everything comes across as so superficial, and not in a "that's bad acting" way, but in a "that's an actor playing a character who is acting" way. This carries over to Galinda's entire style of talking, but the extras knock it out of the park here. It means that the only sincere moments in the song hit with the relevant weight. Those being Elphaba and Nessa's conversation, and the Elphaba dance (something remarkably difficult to find images of).

That dance is the moment I see Glinda x Elphaba (I still refuse to use the Gelphie ship name) actually taking off, rather than in What Is This Feeling, because it's the first moment that the two see eye to eye, and Galinda finally understands Elphaba. She earns her friendship and trust by trying to make up for her mistakes. Galinda talks a lot, but actions speak louder than words, and that dance kicks off a love story.

Next week, I will be diving into Popular, a number that really takes apart the theming to an overt level only matched by one other song, and we will get to that one soon.

Previous - Next

[otomefiend]

Victor

Collection Event: Mirror mirror...

A little Victor treat cause I missed him. ♡ Pardon any awkwardness since I don't have much time to proofread it.

~~~

(Where... am I...?)

(I'm sure I went to sleep in my room at the Crown castle, did I not?)

I decided to walk around and assess the situation...

Victor: "Hi there, Kate."

...I was greeted by Victor, who suddenly appeared in front of me.

Kate: "Victor....!? You appeared out of thin air..."

Kate: ".. oh, is it a magic trick, perhaps?"

Victor: "Pfft, it's not a magic trick. This is just a dream you're having, so anything is possible!"

Kate: "A dream...?"

Victor: "Yes, anything that happens here, happens according to your wish."

Victor: "Whether it's gorgeous gem- adorned dresses or delicious, buttery pastries..."

Victor: "One wish from you, and you can have anything you want."

As he said this, he picked up a tree branch that lay at his feet.

Victor: "Let's see --"

He gently waved the branch as if it were a wizard's wand.

At that moment, a table ready for a tea party and a large wardrobe fell from the sky.

The wardrobe opened itself, revealing a variety of colourful dresses.

Victor: "... ta da!"

Kate: "Whoa... amazing! It really is a dream..."

Victor: "Your enthusiasm is appreciated! Well, no point just standing around; let's continue our chat over a cup of tea."

He urged me to sit on the chair that had just appeared and drink the tea prepared for me.

(I feel like I'm always drinking tea with Victor...)

(...it's strange to enjoy myself like that in a dream)

Kate: "By the way, why are you my dream, Victor?"

Victor: "I'm here to make your dreams come true! It's like a stage set-up."

Kate: "My dreams, you say..."

Victor: "Yeah, no matter how daring they may seem. Tell me what you want?"

Victor: "Let your imagination run freely. Whether you want to fly, do something outlandish, or just visualise it!"

Victor: "I'll accept anything and make it come true!"

Kate: "Then... I want to spoil you, Victor."

His jewel-like eyes widened in astonishment.

Victor: "...spoil me?"

Victor: "Um... it's definitely something you want to do, yes? You're not trying to fulfill my wishes?"

Kate: "Yes, it's what I want."

Kate: "You're busy working as the Queen's Aide and looking after the Crown."

Kate: "And yet you never show that you're tired and always take care of me..."

Kate: "So I thought I'd let you rest your body and mind."

Victor: "........."

Kate: "But whenever I try to persuade you to take a break in real life, you politely refuse..."

Kate: "And there's only so much I can do when I lend you a hand with work."

Kate: "So... will you allow me to help you, even if just in a dream?"

Kate: "That's what I want."

Victor: "Seriously... you know you've already helped me enough?"

Victor smiled softly in an attempt to dispel my anxiety. He was kind even in a dream.

(Still, it was true I've been performing my duties as a fairytale writer...)

(Little by little, I feel like I'm helping the Crown)

(... but, that's not enough)

I wanted him to need me more. I wanted to be useful... I wanted to get closer.

These feelings welled up in my heart whenever I was with Victor.

Wanting to dote on Victor was more for my own benefit than his.

Victor: "........."

Kate: "I'll do whatever I can, so..."

Victor: "...now now, don't be too hasty saying things like that."

Victor: "Even if I'm just a figment of your imagination."

Victor chided me but then winked playfully.

Victor: "But... if that's what you want, then by all means, feel free to pamper me."

Kate: "Thank you so much...!"

Victor: "Haha, I should be thanking you."

Victor: "Hmm, so you want to pamper me then... but what should I ask you to do?"

Kate: "Would you like to have a nap? You could use my lap as a pillow!"

Victor: "Lap pillow...?"

(Oops, I got carried away and said something weird... offering my lap was a ridiculous idea...)

Kate: "S-sorry, forget what I said..."

Victor: "What a splendid idea, Kate!"

Victor: "I'm tall, so I always look down at you, don't I? It'll be fun to look up for a change."

He did not find it strange and accepted the proposal.

As I sat down in a field of flowers, Victor took off his coat and gently placed his head on my lap.

(It's strange... the touch of Victor's hair and his warmth feel so real)

Kate: "Are you comfortable?"

Victor: "Of course! It's perfect... though isn't my head too heavy?"

Kate: "Not at all, it's very light... Erm, I don't mean that your head is empty or anything like that...!"

Victor: "Haha! Don't worry, Kate!"

Victor: "I know you wouldn't look down like that at anyone... I can see right through you."

Kate: "... thank you."

His words made me happy; I could feel my lips curve into a smile.

Victor, who had been watching me from the lap, reached out and stroked my cheek.

Victor: "Being able to see your happy face at such a close distance... definitely makes me a fan of this position."

Victor: "Thank you for being by my side and always keeping a smile on your face."

His tender touch tickled me, and I returned the favour by combing my hand through his hair.

We continued talking about trifle things, until...

Kate: "....achoo!"

I suddenly felt a chill and let out a small sneeze.

Victor: "Are you feeling chilly? I'd hate for you to catch a cold."

Victor: "Put on my coat for now... I'll get something else to keep you warm."

He stood up in a hurry, intending to leave me.

Kate: "W-wait, please! I'm fine, so stay with me a little longer..."

It was Victor's presence that brought happiness into my dreams.

I felt that the moment he disappeared from view, the dream would end, and I would be back to reality...

I stopped him, wanting to immerse myself in this world a little longer.

Victor: "... then, may I hug you?"

Kate: "Huh...?"

Victor: "There's nothing here that can keep you warm other than me. Kidding --"

Kate: "... is it okay to impose on you this way?"

I was aware I was dreaming, and yet I did feel a bit chilly.

I wanted Victor to stay by my side, and I wanted to stay warm,

His offer satisfied both of those needs... so I gladly accepted it.

Victor: "........."

Hearing my reply, Victor became unusually silent, and then, hesitating, he gently pulled me into his arms.

He wasn't supposed to be real, and yet I could feel his body heat,

my own body, which meant to be cold, gradually started to warm up.

(I don't know why... I feel so calm)

Being held like that by a man made me embarrassed.

But more than that, it was like my body had been waiting for Victor to embrace me for a long time...

It gave me a sense of security—the sensation that I was where I belonged.

Without saying a word, I hugged him back, and his arms, initially hesitant, tightened their grip around me.

Kate: "... I think I like being hugged by you."

I said it without thinking, and then I realized. This was not the reality but the world of dreams.

Kate: "Still... this is my dream and my desire. I'm sorry for making you go out with me..."

I was happy to have my shallow desires fulfilled by the dream Victor...

...yet my happiness rang hollow.

Victor: "... you think so? Maybe this isn't just your wish."

Victor: "I'm sure the real Victor would appreciate it as much."

Wrapped in the arms of an imaginary Victor whose words were kind, just like in reality.

I sincerely hoped that this pleasant dream would last a little longer.

~~~

[laundrybiscuits]

(FINE I guess this is a series now. whatever.)

“He’s where,” says Steve. 

“Off to see the wizard, my dude.” Argyle passes him a pipe. Steve’s not really sure where it came from or when Argyle packed it, but he’s got manners, so he takes a hit and hands it off to Jonathan. 

“Murray,” elaborates Jonathan, on an exhale. “The…you know. Oh wow, I guess you’ve never met Murray either. That’s weird, right? I mean, you were there, you were just…”

“Babysitting, probably,” says Steve. “Wait, why is Eddie meeting this guy?”

Argyle gestures in a big loopy way. It reminds Steve a little bit of how Eddie waves his arms around. “Eddie’s on, like, a spiritual journey. A dream quest, but…real life. The realest.”

“Not spiritual like church,” adds Jonathan. “Like, gay spirit. Is that a thing? Shit, why doesn’t anyone know Murray.”

“I don’t know Murray either, man,” says Argyle. 

“Is…Murray a real person?” Steve asks. He doesn’t think it’s an unreasonable question.

“Yes! Jesus. He’s real, okay? Nancy knows Murray, we—yeah. Nancy knows him.” Jonathan looks kind of dour and depressed, but he always sort of looks like that. 

“How’s Nancy doing?” Steve doesn’t really want to know, but it seems like the polite thing to say. 

“We’re fine,” says Jonathan. 

“Okay,” says Steve, who hadn’t asked that at all.

“Everything’s fine,” Jonathan repeats. Argyle reaches over to pat Jonathan on the head, then takes the pipe from Jonathan’s hand. 

———

“Hm,” says Murray. It’s hard to tell what he’s thinking behind all the facial hair and glasses. “Okay, I don’t usually do this, but…what the hell. Kiddo, you are way too young to be talking like that. Your life’s not over, and if you’re smart about it, it doesn’t have to be over any time soon.”

Murray sits back on the couch, kicking up his feet. There’s a hole in his left sock.

“You think happily ever after only looks like one thing? That’s the thought of a child. If you really want, you can make some kind of picket fence life for yourself, suburbs and all. But you’re a queer, so that means you don’t have to do that shit because nobody’s expecting you to anymore. You get to decide what matters to you.”

“I don’t know any way to be gay that’s not lonely as hell,” Eddie says. 

“That’s because you’re an idiot and an infant,” says Murray gently. 

“You don’t have a—a boyfriend.” It comes out a little too sharp and mean, but Eddie’s feeling cornered. 

Murray laughs. “Kid, what did I just say? I don’t want a damn boyfriend. Some guy coming over here all the time, eating my food? Hell no. We’re degenerate homos, we get to decide what to keep and what to shove down the god damn garbage disposal. I got some arrangements in place, and that’s the way I like it. The whole lovey-dovey romance shit isn’t for me.”

Eddie draws his legs up, wrapping his arms around his shins. His boots are probably leaving marks on the couch, but Murray can deal. “I think it…I think that is for me. I want that to be for me. Um. In general.”

Murray actually tilts his head down to give Eddie a scathing look over the top of his glasses. “No shit, Joan Jett. Your whole ooh please push past my defenses to prove you love me schtick is visible from space.”

“Fuck,” says Eddie, knocking his head against his knees. He closes his eyes, humiliated beyond words, feeling scooped-out and awful. 

“C’mon, it’s not that bad.” Eddie feels a tap on his arm, and when he looks up, Murray’s holding out a glass with about an inch of amber liquid in it. “We all go through something like that. It’s a rite of passage, just like it is to get so wasted you throw up on the stranger you dragged into a club bathroom. You’ll do that too. You’re gonna be messy and embarrassing anyway, so just enjoy the ride. And take the damn Talisker, it’ll help.”

Eddie takes the damn Talisker and knocks it back in one go, just to be an ass. Murray rolls his eyes but pours him another one.

“Ah, practical shit…” Murray scratches at his beard thoughtfully. “Been a while since I had to do this. Poppers are great, don’t overdo ‘em. Splurge on the fancy medical lube if you want but Vaseline or Crisco’ll do the trick just fine. And listen up, kitten, because you can ignore everything else that comes outta my mouth, but you can’t ignore this: always wrap it up. I mean always. I don’t care if he’s your soulmate, I don’t care if it kills the mood, I don’t care if he says he’s a blushing goddamn virgin. If he doesn’t want to wear a rubber, he doesn’t care if you live or die.”

Murray looks down at his own glass. For the first time, Eddie thinks he looks—tired. 

“I know there’s probably a big part of you that doesn’t care if you live or die, either. But you gotta remember there’s people who do. The kid who sent you to me. He doesn’t want to go to your funeral.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. It comes out too quiet; he swallows and tries again. “Yeah. I know. I’ve—been to funerals too.” 

Murray barks out a surprised laugh. “God, you have, haven’t you? Think I was almost thirty, my first time. I’m sorry, Joan Jett, this isn’t a great time to be young and gay. Go make friends with some dykes, they’ll keep you sane.” 

Eddie, who has held Robin’s hair back as she ralphed into a bucket after losing a Peeps-eating competition with Steve, has his doubts, but he just nods.

Murray looks at him for a moment, then takes his face between two big hands and kisses him on the forehead. It feels neither sexual nor familial, but something beyond all of the easy categories Eddie’s known. 

“Now piss off,” Murray says. “Don’t get some crazy idea that this means we’re friends, or that you can start coming around whenever you feel like it.”

“So, just Tuesdays, Thursdays, and every other Sunday,” says Eddie, and ducks out before Murray can start cussing at him.

———

See, Eddie’s little crush on Steve is meant to be purely recreational. It’s fun to crush on unavailable guys he knows—way more fun than celebrities or whatever. It’s just nice, to feel his heart speed up a little when Steve’s around, safe in the certain knowledge that he’s never going to do a damn thing about it. It even feels good to hurt a little bit over it, achy and sharp, like pushing on a bruise. 

Yeah, Eddie knows he’s a little fucked up. But he figures this is harmless enough: a secret little vice that nobody’s ever going to know about.

Apparently, everybody knows. 

“Um,” says Jonathan, wide-eyed. “Was it…supposed to be a secret?”

“Yes,” hisses Eddie. “Because this is Hawkins, Indiana, and I don’t want to fucking die. Did we or did we not just have a conversation about the many and various perils this whole thing entails.”

“My dude, if you don’t want it to be, like, public knowledge, maybe don’t flirt with him so much?” 

“Betrayal!” Eddie gasps, staggering around like he’s been stabbed in the back, because he fucking has. “An unjust hit by Argyle the Assassin.”

“Argyle the Assistant,” says Argyle. “I’m assisting you, bro.”

“I don’t flirt with Steve!” Eddie screeches. “We’re friends! I flirt with you two dickwads more than I do with Steve, because I don’t flirt with Steve!” 

“You really do,” says Jonathan apologetically. “Kind of…a lot. Remember when we were out by the quarry, and you kept calling him princess.”

“As a joke!”

“Ohhh yeah,” says Argyle. “That was the day you, like…took his jacket, right?”

“I was cold!”

Jonathan grins. “Is that why you kept asking him how it looked on you?”

“As…a joke,” says Eddie, weakly. He’s starting to remember that it might’ve been even worse; the words do I look pretty in your clothes, Stevie may or may not have been uttered. 

“Hey, man, it’s no biggie. That was a million years ago and he didn’t say anything, so you’re free and clear. Totally righteous.” Argyle throws an arm around Eddie, who curls into him sulkily. Argyle’s tall and solid and kinda hot, so it’s a real shame Eddie can’t crush on him instead. 

Eddie sighs. “If Jonathan weren’t here, I’d ask you to make out with me until I felt better,” he says. 

“What,” says Jonathan. “You can’t—I mean, you can, and I, uh—support you? Should I leave?”

“Aw,” says Argyle, and ruffles Eddie’s hair. “That’s sweet, dude. If Jonathan weren’t here, I would.”

“What is happening,” says Jonathan. “I’m gonna—should I leave? I’m gonna leave.”

Eddie whines, “No, c’mon, stay, we’ll do that seance. That’ll make me feel better too. Maybe we can resurrect my deceased heterosexuality.” 

They don’t manage to raise any ghosts or any heterosexualities, but it does make Eddie feel a little better anyway.

[useramor]

it's you, it's you, it's all for you (everything i do) word count: 1.1k

eddie asks about buck's coma dream, 6x11 coda (also the title is from video games by lana del rey because they're playing a video game in this sdlfgjh okay enjoy)

“So,” Eddie says after they’ve both died in the video game. Christopher got it recently and already completed the entire game — a magical quest one that ends with them fighting off an evil wizard that turns into a dragon. Very Maleficent, if you ask Buck. 

“So?” Buck echoes, looking over at him. They’re sitting on the floor, backs resting against the couch. Eddie looked at him curiously when he plopped onto the ground, but a couch feels like a little bit of a sore subject at the moment.

Especially when his mom recently bought the largest, ugliest, most uncomfortable sofa Buck’s ever sat on. It’s an eyesore. And it is, unfortunately, taking up half his loft.

It feels kind of pointed. Like the universe is trying really hard to tell him something. He figures he better figure it out soon, because he doesn’t feel like getting struck by lightning or something.

Again.

Point is, Buck wants a comfortable couch. It doesn’t have to be huge, or have reclining seats, or anything, but it needs to feel right. He needs to sit on it and feel like he’s home. Like he can relax and shed some of the pressures of the day.

It might be a lot to put on a couch, but Buck’s willing to wait. 

So, basically, they’re on the floor. 

“What was I like? In your dream? I mean, I was in it, right?”

“Kind of?” Buck tilts his head, scrunching his nose as he looks at it. “I don’t think you’re gonna like what my subconscious came up with.”

Eddie shrugs, leaning against the couch, head tilted slightly. He’s very pretty, Buck’s been noticing. Not that there has ever been a moment where he thought Eddie was unattractive, but it’s been a kind of new discovery to realize the small smile on his face as he waits for Buck to move on makes his heart swoop.

It’s not a new feeling, either, just one he wasn’t ready to look at, yet. He’s still not quite there, if he’s being honest with himself.

It’s just—

Eddie’s couch fits him, Eddie, and Chris pretty comfortably. Buck’s spent an awful lot of nights (and a lot of awful nights) sleeping on this couch. And it’s not like Buck’s ready to put this couch in his loft or move into Eddie’s house so he can sit on this couch all the time, but. Maybe soon he’ll be okay with…sitting on it, or something.

And he thinks Eddie might grab some beers from the fridge and sit beside him.

“I still wanna know,” Eddie says, low and soft, quiet under the repetitive tune of the video game still playing on the TV.

“Okay,” Buck says. “Well, I didn’t see you.”

“You saw everyone else but you didn’t see me? I thought we were best friends,” he teases.

“We are. You were alive in it. Chim mentioned you.”

“Your subconscious puts Chimney over me?”

I think my subconscious knew that if I saw you and you weren’t the Eddie sitting in front of me, I wouldn’t know how to cope, he thinks, but keeps the words to himself. Rolls his eyes fondly and mumbles a “shut up,” instead.

“No, seriously. Here I’ve been considering you my friend, bringing my son to see you in the hospital — sneaking him into the ICU, by the way, because he wouldn’t leave the hospital without seeing you—”

“Really?” Buck asks, and he hates the awe in his voice. He hates the way, even after all this time, he doesn’t know how to trust that people want him around. Not fully, anyway. 

Eddie catches onto it. Of course he does. 

“Buck, of course. Chris needed you to come back. We all did.”

Buck hears the silent I needed you to come back. He doesn’t point it out. 

He swallows around a tightness in his throat.

“Oh,” he whispers. Eddie snorts, looking at him fondly. 

“Yeah. Oh.”

“You didn’t have Chris. In my dream,” Buck blurts.

“Your parents fought for custody and won. You—I didn’t know you. In the dream. Or, you didn’t know me, but, hell, it’s my brain, right? So I knew. I knew you fought like hell to keep him, but your hours in the end—Eddie, I hope you know I don’t think I, like, am the reason you have Chris. You’re the best dad I know, okay? I know you would do anything in the world for him, I was just living in my worst case scenario, and—”

“I didn’t have you,” he says simply. “I would do anything for my son, obviously, but without the right help, without Carla, I can only imagine the kind of hell my parents would’ve given me.”

Eddie’s looking at him so gently that Buck would trip over the feelings he’s spilling onto the floor if he weren’t sitting down. 

“You’re not wrong to assume our lives would kind of suck without you, Buck.”

“My life sucked without you. You were the first person I thought of, when I woke up in that dream. You and Christopher,” he admits softly, his words washing over them like a blanket. Eddie scoots closer. Buck can’t tell if the action is intentional or not, he just knows that from one second to the other there’s a new, unmistakable warmth along his side.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks, like he can’t believe Buck. Like he can’t believe he got lucky enough to have him sit here and admit that Eddie and Chris were the first tethers, his first pulls back home. 

“Yeah. Always. Fought to come home, y’know.” Buck hopes it comes off casually. Hopes it comes off like his heart isn’t lodged in his throat, like maybe the 118 is his home, but Eddie seems to get it, anyway.

Eddie knocks their shoulders together, and it’s a quiet promise. They both know, he’s pretty sure. They both know they’ve got something going, something good, something with a couch and a house and a family. A love Buck doesn’t have to die to experience.

But it’s not the right time. Close. Just hovering around the corner. Buck can be patient for once in his life; Eddie’s worth everything. 

He picks up his controller, silently asking if he wants to go again. 

Eddie nods, but his finger hovers over the play button. His brown eyes are warm and dark when they land on Buck’s, and it takes mental effort to remember he needs to keep breathing when Eddie smiles at him — soft and fond and flushed a peachy pink. 

“For the record,” he says, clearing his throat like the words don’t know how to come out. “I always fight to come home to you, too.”

Buck’s character dies three times in a row, the words home to you on an endless loop in his mind.

Yeah, he thinks. Knows, really. Soon. 

[stone-stars]

Transcript:

Kenna (Murph): I've heard you bringing up like, family and stuff a lot? And… I don't-- I don't totally know how to say this, but do you think that I could show you something through like your spores thing? Do you think it works like that? Sol (Caldwell): I mean, we can certainly try, I'm not really sure what all it's capable of, but… yeah! Let's give it a go! Murph: You hop off the treadmill, you see Kenna walks up, puts her hands on your head, um, and then rests her head against them. And you feel a sudden [whoosh, snaps] jolt as you are pulled into one of Kenna's memories. [The Gunslinger's Girl plays softly in the background] Murph: And you see Jaina Bronzebeard, looking over some kind of city plans in her study in like the Irondeep Castle, she's looking all stressed out. And then you see… Kenna enters the room. You see Kenna is wearing like, civilian clothes, just like a regular tunic and no plate mail. And Jaina goes-- Jaina (Murph): Shouldn't you be out in the yard sparring? Murph: And Kenna looks down. Kenna: I'm.. I'm leaving Irondeep. My… My father's been sending me money, and I-- I bribed one of the couriers and they… they told me where I could find him. So I'm-- I'm gonna go to Ezry. And I'm gonna look for him. Murph: Jaina puts down her work and nods, and sort of crosses her arms and thinks and goes-- Jaina: Well has, um, has he reached out to you at all? Or… or are you the one that is doing all the work? Murph: And Kenna looks down again, kind of not wanting to answer. And Jaina gets up from her desk, walks around, and kneels next to the young squire. And goes-- Jaina: I will not tell you what to do. If you choose to go to Ezry to look for him, I will charter the airship myself. But I-- I wanna tell you something. I have had two little sisters in my life. One shared a family name with me, and the other did not. One liked jewels in her beard and music and dancing, and the other liked hammers and plate mail and sparring. Murph: And she sort of pats on Kenna. Jaina: And she wanted very much to be a knight. I would hate to see her throw that dream away. And I would hate to lose another sister. Murph: Kenna just breaks down crying and buries her face in Jaina's chest, and Jaina brings her in, kind of holds her for a moment, and then Jaina pulls back and makes eye contact with her, and goes-- Jaina: The gods do not decide who is and isn't family. Murph: And you [whoosh, music ends] come out of the trance, and see Kenna standing there, kind of awkwardly and teary eyed. Kenna: So, yeah, that's… just, I thought maybe… Sol: No, yeah, no, that's-- Kenna: Yeah. Sol: I know that you call yourself a squire but… I can see it, everyone can see it, you've got a knight's heart beating proudly under that iron. Kenna: Thank you for saying that, Mr. Bufo! And-- Sol: Just call me Sol. Kenna: (laughs) That's gonna be a hard habit to break Mr B-- Sol. Sol. [Caldwell laughs] Murph: And you see she goes over to her like, pack, and she goes-- Kenna: Anyway, I-- I found some old books in the equipment bags. Murph: And you see she pulls out a copy of The Boy Wizard and his Frog Pal. And she hands it to you. Sol: Oh! Oh gosh, this old thing. Kenna: Hey man, I know the monsters weren't real at Launchpad, but I thought the main characters were very believable as brothers. Sol: You're right. Thank you for reminding me, you know, no matter how much we loose, we gotta hold on to what we have and we gotta… double down on those connections. I'm really glad that we got to meet you. I'm really glad you're here. Kenna: Thanks big bro! Murph: Um, gives you a big hug.

[tubadorashifts]

Things i’m excited for in ⠀⠀⠀my Marauders DR!

˗ˏˋ THE CLASSES ´ˎ˗

I’ve been a massive fan of harry potter since I was a kid and my favourite parts of the books and the movies are when we get to see them doing normal schoolwork. As soon as I shift there i’m literally going to spend all day reading my school books to learn more about the wizarding world. I just know Sirius and James will be sick of me because you’ll never not find me in the library. This’ll probably be the only reality where i’m actually excited to study and do homework lmao

˗ˏˋ THE MAGICAL CREATURES ´ˎ˗

HAVE U SEEN ALL OF THE CUTE CREATURES IN FANTASTIC BEASTS??? I’M SO EXCITED TO SEE THEM ALL. I’m going to be besties with Hagrid I just know it. Even better my dad in this dr is Newt Scamander, so i’ll have grown up around magical creatures. I’m just going to end up being a mini version of my dad tbh. I can’t wait to meet Pickett he’s so adorable i’m going to give him so much smooches.

˗ˏˋ MY FAMILY ´ˎ˗

So I said this in the last section but my dad is Newt Scamander and my mum is Tina Goldstein!!! I’m not even kidding, I think this is one of the only realities where I actually scripted parents but you can’t tell me that they wouldn’t be such great parents? I can imagine that instead of reading me bedtime stories, they would tell me stories of all of their adventures together. ALSO I can’t forget about Queenie and Jacob, I can’t wait to meet them too! I can’t wait to go out shopping with Queenie or have Jacob teach me how to bake. I’ve also scripted that Newt is the Care of Magical Creatures teacher and his brother Theseus is the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, so i’ll be seeing both of them around a lot teehee

˗ˏˋ MY FIRST DAY ´ˎ˗

The first time I shift to my marauders dr, i’ll have arrived the day before the rest of the students because my dad is a teacher, so this will give me time to explore the school by myself so I can try to figure out where i’m going lmao. This is also because I want to practice some magic and underage wizards can only do this at Hogwarts i’m pretty sure? I’m honestly just nervous that I won’t remember any spells 😭 I’ve scripted that I have been writing diaries since I was little and they also have little pictures in them that I took and I can’t wait to read them and see what my childhood was like (I know i’ll have memories of my childhood but I also figured this was a good idea!)

˗ˏˋ MY SPECIAL ABILITIES ´ˎ˗

You best believe i’ve made myself one of the most op wizards in the wizarding world because why wouldn’t I? In this dr, I am part veela, part siren, metamorphmagus and an animagus 💀 One of the first things i’m going to end up doing is fucking around with my appearance and seeing what I can do. ALSO I’VE SEEN LITERALLY NO ONE TALK ABOUT WHAT IT’S LIKE TO BE AN ANIMAGUS??? LIKE YOU’RE TURNING INTO AN ANIMAL ITS GOTTA BE REALLY STRANGE. I’m adopted in this dr so that’s why i’m part veela and siren. The reason why I scripted this is because I have a serious case of ‘I have to be the main character’ and being part veela basically means i’m going to look hot no matter what, so obviously i’m scripting that. For the siren part, i’m just living my 9 year old dreams of being a mermaid ngl

˗ˏˋ HOGWARTS ´ˎ˗

I’m so gonna end up crying the first time I see the outside of Hogwarts, i’m not kidding. Every time I see a picture of Hogwarts, I get so emotional, it’s seriously so prettysjakkslsakka. I also keep forgetting the forbidden forest is forbidden even though it’s in the name lmao? No one can stop me from exploring the forbidden forest, not even death. You’ll have to drag me out by my ankles or in a body bag. ALSO, I have to go to the astronomy tower so badly, i’m freaking out, like you know when Harry was like “I never realised how beautiful Hogwarts was” in the 6th movie or something? I was so confused. You’ve spent like 6 years here and not once have you noticed how beautiful it is???

˗ˏˋ MY FRIENDS ´ˎ˗

I’M SO EXCITED TO MEET MY FRIENDS ANSJJKAKAKHHSJKKS. So i’ve known James since we were kids because we grew up right next to each other and I used to stay with his family when my parents went on dangerous missions or whatever when I was younger so we’re very close. And then once I start Hogwarts, i’ll meet the rest of the marauders as well as Lily, Marlene and Mary. My friends are one of the main reasons why i’m shifting to this dr. I’ve always wanted an extremely close friend group where we could tell each other anything or do anything together. They’re going to end up hating me, i’m going to be so clingy once I shift there i’m never going to stop hugging them. I’m so excited to get ready for balls together with the girls and have sleepovers with them or do pranks and play quidditch with the marauders

˗ˏˋ QUIDDITCH ´ˎ˗

I’m obsessed with quidditch and it’s not even real 😔 (the flying kind I mean). Like it’s to the point where I might rival James or Oliver Wood with my obsession, it’s really bad. I listen to the Harry Potter audiobooks on my way to work and whenever they start playing quidditch I get so hyped. Like my hearts beating super fast and I get sweaty, it’s ridiculous. I act like I don’t know what’s going to happen 💀. Anyway, I’m going to be the seeker for the Gryffindor team and I’M SO EXCITED. The first couple of times James wakes me up for quidditch practice i’ll be excited until it’s lashing rain and then i’ll end up hating him forever. I might end up being either a professional quidditch player or a magizoologist in the future. But i’m going to be the coolest quidditch player in Hogwarts, trust me 😎

Thank you for reading this post!! It’s kinda long and I don’t even know if it’s interesting or if I just rambled the entire time but whatever lol