#Disentangling

[tenth-sentence]

In practice, though, the fact that half the DNA in your body comes from your mother's line and half from your father's line makes disentangling the information as difficult as unscrambling an egg.

"Why the West Rules – For Now: The patterns of history and what they reveal about the future" - Ian Morris

[homoquartz]

a show doesn't necessarily have to be ABOUT queerness to BE a queer show. it's a cultural dialect that cishets don't quite speak.

edit: i gotta clarify that the shows do indeed still have to have actual queer characters in them to count

[all-0f-the-above]

if Bill had thought ONE step ahead he could've made a deal with Fidds. then he could've gotten Ford to do whatever he wanted

get Fidds to feel insecure about his intellect or charm or something and have Bill possess him when he's nervous about fucking up his relationship with Ford

can you IMAGINE? there's the muse like usual and then there's Fiddleford, who seems to be supportive about this whole project, even if he does have some weird memory lapses. oddly enough, when they are intimate or loving, Fidds gets really nervous then totally confident. Ford waves it off because the other personality is alluring in its own way

then the memory gun would have been invented by Ford to destroy Bill and, in the process, erased Fidds' memories

the PAIN from Ford. he has to, effectively, kill the one he loves to save the universe. to lure him in by making Fidds nervous and triggering Bill taking over for him. kissing Bill/Fiddleford (FiddBill?) and cradling his head only to pull the trigger on the memory gun. whispering "I'm sorry" right after he blasts him

knowing Ford, he'd drop Fidds off at Emma and Tate's, explaining extreme amnesia, and wallow in his sadness back at home. he publishes the breakthrough paper and patents some of his technology, all under Fidds' name. it was his work, anyway. and the Mcgucket family doesn't deserve to lose their income just because of Ford's decision.

Fiddleford doesn't remember Ford because he's not there to trigger his memory and Ford never checks in on him directly. he surveils his house, sure, and watches him from afar, but never gets into direct contact with him.

Ford could have even ended up in the multiverse this way. he calls Stanley, asking for his help to disperse the journals like before, but, like before, his dimensional portal malfunctions when Stan confronts him in the lab.

when Stanley meets Fiddleford, his introduces himself as Stanford Pines, but the only familiar thing about him is the cut of his jaw and his build. Fidds could've sworn they'd met before, but so many things about this guy seem unfamiliar, he brushes it off as weird deja vu.

he's been getting that ever since the accident. he used to work for Stanford, but somehow everything he remembers is wrong. this one doesn't wear glasses, nor does he have special hands. his voice is hoarser and he isn't interested in taking walks around Gravity Falls' forests. Fidds read about it somewhere, that your brain makes up memories where there are none. figures his has done that with everything he's forgotten.

when Ford comes back, it feels like he's got a word on the tip of his tongue. he knows something, it's just not coming forward. the new fella ignores him a lot. that's alright- not everyone has to be friendly. but when he hears this guy is the real Stanford, the one he worked for, Fiddleford gets curious and asks him about the accident. he figures he has a right to know, and if he has to guilt the guy a little, well you gotta do what you gotta do.

"please, call me Ford" makes him remember their college dorm room.

"that's plausible" and he can recall their first meeting.

when memories rush back of their college years, Fiddleford gets severe vertigo trying to stand. Ford's hands holding him steady reminds them of their first embrace.

the blush right underneath Ford's glasses and fidgety nervousness send Fiddleford back to the first time they kissed, intoxicated one minute, sober the next.

he falls to the floor, getting a headache from all of the remembering. Ford offers to lift him up and bring him to the car. a split second after being pulled up by the armpits, he recalls the first time they made out on purpose. it was after a fight on something trivial. both of them were just being hardheaded, and Ford pushed him to the ground. after profusely apologizing, Ford kneeled down. face to face like that, the air disappeared between them. neither were looking at the others' eyes. by the time they glanced back up, the fight was over.

a few chaste kisses on the floor turned into Ford heaving him up to stand. what happened after replayed into present day Fiddleford's mind as he was held steady by an older Ford asking, "are you alright? oh god I knew it was too early. I shouldn't have met with you I knew-"

he stops talking when Fidds puts a hand on his cheek, "we were close once."

Ford didn't dare breathe, "yes, once."

[slow-drowned-angels]

Actually fuck it.

It’s okay to be broken. It’s okay to be fucked up and abnormal. It’s okay for there to be something wrong with you.

If being aro or ace or trans-but-wrong or any other sort of “weird queer” means I’m insane and broken and fucked up, then that’s fine. I am already insane and broken and fucked up. Doesn’t change anything.

It’s all the same fight.

[bees-with-swords]

I love how Discworld's mentor characters are all deeply flawed actually. Tired of old people having everything right, I love how these ones set up the next generation with room to grow and be idealistic, even if the mentors themselves are deeply rooted in the old practices of the system they've already changed so much. Pratchett really said we should revere our elders but also seek to push past their limits

[leaflingsound]

making myself say one nice thing about izzy's death scene. his bloodied hand getting caught in ed's hair on the way down and staying there is a fucking heartbreaking detail that I would be going cuckoo over if literally anything else about his death and subsequent shitty funeral made any sort of narrative or tonal sense at all.

[aziraphalecrowley-fell]

I do so adore how my demon drapes across my torso and legs, making the sweetest noises as he conducts his sleeping ritual.

[tenth-sentence]

What I do expect from such an exploration is at least some assistance in disentangling the benefits we might aim for from the pitfalls we might legitimately fear.

"In the Name of Eugenics: Genetics and the Uses of Human Heredity" - Daniel J. Kevles

[undertalethingems]

He shouldq just deleted the house. Much simpler.

Sans and Papyrus' house is weird, for a number of reasons, so teleporting Frisk and Alphys out actually was the simpler option =u=;

[pixiesnooze]

little mo the type of drunk that will bring home a traffic cone/sign

[thethirdromana]

There's something interesting in the contrast between how we're presented with Mina's thinking vs Van Helsing's thinking.

Most of Van Helsing's process of deduction is hidden from the reader. We know he does research and figures out that it's vampires, but we never learn exactly how he gets there, or what other theories he discards along the way.

Meanwhile Mina, The Information Sharer, has her process of deduction right there on the page. We learn about it at the exact same point and in the same way as the other characters do.

[sammygender]

we really sleep on sam/lisa and dean/ruby

[cubbihue]

I’m not an artist don’t judge me. But I had to make this. There is something wrong with my brain.

HHBAKSHABSDKHASBAK OH MY GODD

god i love this so much. i love everything about this. when will he come back from the war. where's our boy.

[braceletofteeth]

The one and only future Palm worries about.

[aziraphalecrowley-fell]

There is something endearing about watching Crowley sleep.

Can I disentangle myself without waking him up? I do so enjoy this, but he has been asleep for six hours and I’m feeling peckish.

[thesuninperigee]

not necessarily enemies-to-lovers or friends-to-lovers, but definitely narrative foils to lovers.