Props To Harlan's Acting Because I Have Never Heard Anyone Sound So Insincere And So Much Like A Liar

I can’t believe I went through all of Season 2 assuming Nina was the stand-in for Crowley when you actually pay attention it’s so CLEAR that she’s Aziraphale. I was tricked by her spiky, sarcastic, cynical outer shell and lulled into a false sense of security by Maggie’s bubbly optimism and wholesome goodness, because on the surface they reflect the ineffable husbands perfectly, in their personalities, their aesthetics, even many of their actions and morals. but not, and this is the real key, when it comes to their “relationship”. but those first impressions really had me damn fooled. 

I missed the blatantness of Nina’s “we’re just friends. actually we’re not friends. we barely know each other.” the same thing Aziraphale said in season 1.  the way he still struggles to quantify their friendship when Nina asks. Nina’s sarcasm when Crowley asks about rain and awnings because it worked for him (we all know it LMAO). hell, that whole convo the girls have in the rain is so AziraCrow (“I know. I’m not your type” “…You have no idea” hits so much harder the second time, help meeeee.) “Lindsay” maybe being symbolic of Heaven and Aziraphale’s toxic relationship with them and their abuse? (the handwritten text messages in red pen make me think of angry notes on paperwork, anyone else?) because Crowley has never actually cared about what Hell thinks of him, just not getting into trouble (or him or Aziraphale getting hurt). Maggie is always chasing Nina. NINA NEVER GOES IN THE RECORD STORE. Just like Crowley always goes to the bookstore, to Aziraphale, Zira NEVER WENT TO THE FLAT (apart from The Swap but that doesn’t count imo). Crowley has always chased Zira, not the other way around. Always there to rescue him, always going to him for company, always relying on their shared connection, always US. OUR SIDE. All through season one, he comes to Zira every time to work together, never trying to work alongside Hell in any way that isn’t to save their skins or Earth, while Zira hides things from Crowley because he STILL thinks Heaven is ultimately good and will do the right thing if he can just show them. fix it from the inside. 

Maggie working up the courage to finally say something, to put herself out there, while Nina is utterly oblivious and then when she does realise Maggie has feelings, becoming standoffish, putting up that barrier, fighting it, denying it, ITS SO CROWLEY AND AZIRAPHALE IN THAT ORDER. the way I was fooled into thinking Nina’s trust issues are Crowley because he does have trust issues ofc he does BUT Crowley has ALWAYS TRUSTED AZIRAPHALE. has always relied on him. has always been hurt when Aziraphale doesn’t immediately reciprocate the way he expects (the holy water request, the bandstand, the “off in the stars” etc). he’s always the one putting himself forward. Aziraphale has always been the one to second guess everything, to fight their connection, their similarities, their friendship. the girls really made me think it was going to be okay when they sat Crowley down, even as my inner sirens were going haywire about Metatron interfering, they were telling Crowley he just needs to open up and it’ll all work out BUT HE’S ALREADY AT THAT POINT. he may not say it, and by gosh is that part of their damn problem, but he’s always SHOWN IT. he’s not Nina who needs time to heal and recover from her broken trust, he’s always been Maggie believing it doesn’t matter, they’ll end up together in the end anyway AND I WALKED RIGHT INTO THE TRAP THAT THIS MEANT THEY WERE GOING TO BE OKAYYYYYYYYYYY

thinking about Eddie’s dom voice being the same as his dramatic DM voice and Steve only finding out when he finally relents and joins a session. Also thinking about Eddie & Steve who haven’t yet met in person or seen each other’s faces but have been talking (and more) on the phone for weeks. Steve is picking Dustin up from a DnD session that’s run late -

Usually he would wait in the car, but tonight seems to be taking especially long, and Eddie, very unusually, hasn’t messaged him back for 2 hours now, so it’s either go in early or practice the breathing exercises Robin gets him to do when his anxiety flares up. He decides to go in early.

The lights are dimmed in the cafe, and the front door regretfully informs him that ‘sorry, we’re closed,’ but the door isn’t locked, and he can hear sounds of life spilling from the back of the building. The delighted yells of his pseudo-little brother and the rest of the party drown out the cafe’s entry bell. He follows the sounds of outraged yelling to the back of the room where the party & a couple of guys Steve doesn’t recognise are huddled around 3 tables pushed together. There’s a guy sitting at the head of the table, hunched forward, wild hair falling into his face as he gestures to the group. He’s pretty, Steve thinks idly, if a little dramatic. He’s perched atop a fucking throne and Steve is just about to roll his eyes when the man speaks in a low, gravelly tone. The one Steve has been hearing in every phone call, every dream, every fantasy he’s had for the past 7 weeks. The one that hooks straight into his gut and pulls.

Steve’s vaguely aware that somewhere his eyes have widened, and his mouth has parted into a soft ‘oh,’ and his body has frozen where he left it. He is also aware, far more saliently, of the quiet static in his bones, white noise rippling calmly in his brain, his overwhelming need to be good. Steve isn’t sure how long his body stands stationary, his consciousness floating 3 feet to the left, before the DnD group slowly turn to look back at him. Steve feels the guy at the head of the table’s stare the most, intense, almost-black eyes boring straight through to the core of him, trapping Steve in his gaze, a butterfly pinned under glass. The guy raises one unimpressed eyebrow, clears his throat, and Steve braces himself to hear the voice that’s roamed the passages of his mind every day for the past 7 weeks.

‘Hey, uh, did you miss the ‘closed’ sign on your way in, buddy?’ The guy, although Steve thinks he may as well reconcile this mystery man with his Eddie, drawls at him, almost bored sounding. The higher pitched, borderline nasal quality his voice has resumed helps force Steve back inside his own body with a jolt.

‘I’m here for little Dustin. My little brother. Dustin.’ Steve stammers, gesturing lamely to where Dustin has rested his head in his hands. A delightedly cruel grin stretches across the guy’s, Eddie’s face.

‘Well little Dustin, don’t want to keep your brother waiting,’ Eddie trills, his eyes roving lazily down Steve’s body before snapping back to the party. As he leans forward, steepling his fingers in front of his face, his voice takes on the deep, rumbling quality that Steve has come to be intimately familiar with, sending a flush to his cheeks and shiver through core of him. ‘And that, dear friends, is where we conclude our story for today.’

The table erupts into chaos, groans and protests flying, most of them aimed at Steve if Mike’s hissed ‘thanks a lot, Harrington’ is anything to go by. Steve shuffles his way to the front counter, shoulders nearly pinned to his ears, as he waits for the party to pack up and counts 5 things he can see, touch, smell, resolutely ignores what he can hear. Because there’s no way. There’s no way Dustin’s DM is Eddie, his Eddie, the man who’s been talking him to sleep for the best part of 2 months. The same Eddie who’s been coaxing him through the exploration of his submissive side. The same Eddie he’s supposed to be going on his first date with in, oh fuck, two days. The same Eddie he was just a stuttering, gormless, fool in front of. The same Eddie walking towards him now, nodding mildly at whatever Dustin is chattering away about, staring directly into Steve’s soul. Dustin doesn’t even slow as he passes Steve toward the exit, holding the door and gesturing towards the car expectantly. Steve fumbles with his keys, desperate leave and drive away from this cafe, maybe even the whole town, if only he weren’t held captive under Eddie’s stare.

‘See ya next time, Little Dustin,’ Eddie smirks, eyes never leaving Steve’s. Somewhere to Steve’s right Dustin grumbles in response as Eddie continues. ‘And Little Dustin’s not-so-little brother.’

‘Bye, Eddie.’ Steve’s voice comes out breathless, higher than he’s used to hearing from himself under normal circumstances. The shadow of a frown crosses Eddie’s features, a flash of recognition, thunder preceding lighting.

Eddie tilts his head in confusion, opens his mouth. ‘Ste-‘

Steve bolts.

Fractured Gravestones

The best stories are made of shattered glass.

They’re beautiful, they’re tragic, they’re sad, they’re hopeful, they’re so very bittersweet.

Whenever I experience a new story I always focus on the tragic side of it. Not because I like the despair, though that does play some distant and twisted role, it’s because of what the tragedy brings out in the characters. I love following their path, how they start as innocent children and slowly come to the horrific realization of what sentient beings can do. How even with the darkness they still fight, they still love, they still bleed...all for what they believe in, because they won’t just give up. 

No. 

They fight for life and freedom because it is right, and because no one else will. 

Maybe that's why my favorite stories are so sad sometimes.

An alien who travels across time, galaxies, universes and multiverses. Who has loved and lost more than anyone should. Who cannot be alone because he might become exactly what he fights. Who fell in love with a woman who became trapped and married a woman he met completely out of order and died upon their meeting. A man who saves and sacrifices and hurts and bleeds and asks for nothing in return. When will his time run out? When will it stop being ‘one last miracle’?

An Ice cold detective and his doctor, who run around solving crimes that no one else can. A genius who feels so fiercely that he shuts off all emotion to avoid getting hurt - again. A soldier who came home empty and is horrified to find that he misses the war. He faked his death once, who says it won't be real next time?

Two brothers and their angel who travel across the country in an old impala, fighting things of nightmares that most believe to be myth and legend. Going against all odds, against their own people, for what they believe is right. An angel always willing to bleed for them, family that would end the world for each other. They’ve died many times. when will it be permanent?

A boy drafted into a war before he was even born, who had a lightning bolt scar and a destiny he couldn't fight, and blood on his hands before he was twelve. One who grew up too fast and learned too quickly that magic wasn't always the stuff of childish dreams. His best friend who thinks he's not enough, youngest of 6 brothers who feels like his achievements don't matter. And the Brightest witch of her age, quick as a whip who saved her boys again and again. They are all drowning in blood before they are legally adults, red-stained hands leaving sticky smears in their wake, staining everything they touch. They were child soldiers, willing or not. When will the nightmares stop?

A hero of godly parentage who went to war at 16 and then was put through another before he became an adult. A boy with a loving mother who never gave up on him, an amazing half-goat best friend who would face the worst of his fears to save his life, and a girlfriend who he would bend heaven and earth for. He’s faced gods and monsters that grown men would fear, killed things that have devoured men thrice his age, bested those terrifying things repeatedly. When will the Gods leave him alone?

A group from the FBI who have been shot at, cut, imprisoned, isolated, blown up, and tortured. A genius who became addicted, a media liaison who lost a child, an ex-lawyer who lost a wife, an author dragged from retirement, a man forced to confront his traumatic past, an interpol agent made to fake her death, a bright and happy technical analyst made to see horrors before her screens every day. They are beaten, bruised and broken. How many horrific ways can someone think of killing. Why must their lives be paved with the bodies of victims never saved?

The MCRT from NCIS who have been betrayed, manipulated and hurt. Who have seen teammates die and families burn. A marine whose wife and child were murdered, an agent with a frat boy mask who almost died from the plague, an ex-mossad agent of a cracked family, an MIT graduate who was woken to real life too soon, a peppy forensic scientist whose optimism became dull, a medical examiner with a sick mother and his insecure assistant. How will they move on if everything they love keeps withering away?

A team of enhanced human beings; some with magic, some with power, some with pure skill; who help people. The universe was full of aliens and monsters and horrors untold. They kill them and incarcerate them and save the earth again and again and again from people much smarter, stronger and way more powerful than themselves. How much luck do they have? When will they go on a mission and not come back?

A Demon and an Angel in a bookshop in Soho who prevented the apocalypse. A Demon who loves plants and stares at galaxies that he helped create, never able to visit again. An angel with a love of books and food who must ‘always obey’ ‘never fail’. Two celestial beings who gave up everything for humanity and each other, and would do so again in a heartbeat. When will that not be enough? When must they let go?

There are many more stories; some popular, some obscure; but it always comes down to loving something or someone so much that you would sacrifice anything, even your own life, for it. 

And I love that.

Sure it’s sad, Kids killed. Dreams squandered. Hearts shattered. Souls bruised. Hope broken… But it has a sort of beauty, the fact that they keep fighting and loving and dreaming and helping despite that, because of that. 

Because no one deserves to go through the same pain they did.

Reactions to tragedy

In real life, pretty much everybody reacts to tragedy differently. So why is it that every author has their pet reaction to tragedy that all their characters use? Not only is it unrealistic, but it takes away the chance for the characters’ different reactions to reveal things about themselves.

Possible reactions to tragedy (not an exhaustive list):

Distracting oneself with mindless activities

Distracting oneself with others’ humor

Distracting oneself by making jokes

Distracting oneself by reading/watching/playing stories

Distracting oneself with hard mental work

Distracting oneself with hard physical work

Distracting oneself with creative endeavors

Distracting oneself by chatting with friends about normal things

Talking to friends about the tragedy

Talking to authority figures about the tragedy

Talking anonymously with strangers about the tragedy (if possible)

Getting wrapped up in others’ problems

Staying unusually silent

Screaming

Crying loudly

Crying silently

Doing everything possible not to cry

Pacing

Taking unhealthy risks

Going for revenge against whoever one can blame

Punching random objects

Throwing random objects

Lashing out against friends and family members

Trying to prevent a similar tragedy from happening

Eating more than usual

Not eating

Taking mind-altering substances

Getting in unhealthy relationships

Isolating oneself

Obsessing over routine

Numbness combined with apathy

Numbness combined with going through one’s normal motions

Trying to get things back the way they were

Denial

No reaction at first but a reaction hits later in greater force

No reaction at all. Emotions relating to the tragedy just fail to load. Note that this can happen to anybody and does not mark a character as a sociopath.

Characters can have more than one reaction at the same time, one reaction after another, or different reactions to different tragedies.

Modern AU where Joe is a secret agent who keeps thinking about backer Nicky because during a very dangerous mission he had to hide in Nicky’s bakery and the other, after seeing him with a knife in his hand and a gun in the back pocket of his pants, only said: “Please do this outside of my shop.” No “What are are you doing with a gun?”, or “Please don’t kill me.” Joe can’t stop replaying in his mind Nicky’s blue eyes looking back at him levelly as he said he didn’t want murder in his establishment. Nicky must be insane, he decides.

He goes back to the bakery and becomes a silent regular (Nile thinks he’s trying to woo Nicky by staring at him very hard) until he snaps and asks: “Would you have been ok with me killing someone outside of your bakery???” And Nicky, hands still covered in flour because it’s 5am and Joe is there, part of the fam by now, says: “First of all, you didn’t kill that man. You preferred keeping your knife with you for self defence and kept the gun in your pocket. You also seemed very nice and good with kids, so I thought you must have good reasons for running away from that man. I figured if I was wrong and you were a bad person you would have killed me anyway, the blood on the wall would have been my last problem. And you did listen. I heard you hit the man in the back alley and it was a good punch. Is he still alive?”

Joe blinks. Is this how Quỳnh felt when Andy told her what her real job was? Like meeting an entirely new, very intriguing type of human being? “He is in jail. He’ll stay there for a long time.”

“Okay,” Nicky nods. “So you won’t bring crime or violence to my establishment?” He asks again. His accent jumps out when he’s hiding that he’s nervous. He looks.. hopeful, Joe decides. Very interested in Joe’s answer.

“I’ll try to clean my shoes from the blood next time.”

Nicky slowly smiles. It’s like watching a new type of natural phenomenon occur in front of his eyes for the first time. Incomprehensible, awe-inspiring, overall beautiful.

“You guys are so weird,” Sebastien says. He’s the regular coming to the bakery at 6am every day and Joe suspects he’s a hacker wanted in more than 26 countries. That, or he’s B00ker’s law abiding doppelgänger. Nicky never fails to have some croissants ready for Sebastien.

“Good luck with your big job,” Nicky tells Sebastien as he hands him the baked goods. “Just don’t use the shop’s wi-fi, last time was a nightmare.”

Joe wants to study Nicky with a microscope. (Or kiss him. Or both.)

I think it is hilarious that when Dazai left his little villain perch in the mafia, he couldn’t quite shake the innate urge to be a menace and his only outlet is tormenting select coworkers at the ADA (Kunikida) to feed the evil little monster at the back of his mind that does a delighted little victory dance every time he manages to make Kunikida’s blood pressure rise and it is hilarious to me that he actually gets twitchy when he can’t get a rise out of Kunikida and starts foaming at the mouth bc he needs his evil fix for the day

anyone else relate

Being into podcasts and having s*** voice recognition means

- not being able to differentiate between Jon and Elias who are played by two different people

- Not being able to differentiate between Sasha and not Sasha who are played by two different people

- Not being able to differentiate between Alice and Norris who are played by two different people

- And being able to distinguish Arther, John, Kellen, Eddie, Dr Jeffrey, Kayne, The trader, Faust, Wallace, The Butcher, Oscar, and MARIE??? from eachother DESPITE ALL OF THEM BEING PLAYED BY THE SAME PERSON

See my other post but Fred and George did indeed actually almost murder Graham Montague in 1995.

Excerpt: Fred Weasley: "He never managed to get all the words out, due to the fact that we forced him head-first into that Vanishing Cabinet on the first floor." Hermione Granger: "But you’ll get into terrible trouble!" Fred Weasley: "Not until Montague reappears, and that could take weeks, I dunno where we sent him." He was trapped in a limbo being ripped back and forth between Borgin and Burkes and Hogwarts (a place that activley repells any transportation magic) and has to apparate himself WITHOUT TRAINING OUT out of the cabinet IN HOGWARTS WHERE YOU CANT APPARATE!!!!! He reappears hafd dead and partially insane, doesnt speak for months and almost dies.

Excerpt from the wiki:

The Apparition nearly proved fatal to Montague.[7] He was left in a disoriented state for weeks afterwards.[8] In May, his parents, Mr and Mrs Montague, came to the school, looking furious.[8] Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger watched the couple arrive, and Hermione suggested that they should tell Madam Pomfrey what had happened to Montague, in case it would help her treat him.[8] However, both Ron and Harry dismissed this idea,[8] so Hermione apparently let the matter drop. Several weeks later, during the O.W.L. exams in June, Harry went to the Hospital Wing, where he saw Madam Pomfrey spoon-feeding a vivid blue potion to Montague.[8]

In short, yes the weasley twins are almost exactly as bad as the maurauders, if not worse since they basically almost killed someone and didnt care, unlike remus who was pissed and james (who despite being a horrible person) saved snape.

Fuck Them.

tbh i think fred & george would have gladly treated a random loner weirdo “totally a future death eater” slytherin kid the way the uwu marauders~ treated snape…

THIS TOO SHALL PASS