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nadiajustbe · 5 days ago

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I think the most beautiful thing about writing of Howl and Sophie's pair is that they are written as people before being written as a pair. Let me explain this very quick.

The thing about book Sophie and Howl is that they are not really fully fitting into any "classic" romantic trope. They are not exactly enemies to lovers, as their angry chats are definitely cannot be considered a life or death battle, they are not rivals to lovers because the only aspect of rivalry between them is the cleaningness of Howl's room. They are not friends to lovers, as their relationship just doesn't fit into "friendship" structure at the very start, nor they are roomates (yes, they live in the same house but that's not the core aspect of their relationships). Of course, you can go on and fit the name of the trope you found specifically for them, but that's the thing.

They simply cannot be processed through a pairings lenses only, in order to understand how they act in relationship you need to analyse them separately, as a characters first of all. Cause that's what the book itself does!

Sure, it doesn't have a whole lot of romance instead, but it gives us time to learn and observe the life of incredibly written, alive characters, understand them as personalities first of all, while slowly immersing the dynamic between two characters (in this case, Howl and Sophie) into work. They are written as personalities, both being fully separated and interviewing, changing eachother's point of view.

It's difficult to find a trope for them. They're are not a trope. They are Howl and Sophie, and that's probably the only way their dynamic can be properly described. Just as real people, they are not really fitting into the boxes of linial character progression, but go way deeper into being complex, filled with little differences and moments only people with their personality can have in romantic (or any different) kind of interaction. They're imperfect, and silly, and multidimensional and the reader knows them well enough to imagine them interacting way beyond of what the book says to them.

They are being people before being a ship, a pair of a trope — and that's why they work so perfectly charming in the end.

Howl and Sophie are unique in being themselves.

#and that's not that they're the only ones like that #I'm sure there's a lote of well-written paintings like them as well #it's just I feel that people would try to find them some kind of a trope in the end anyways #actually If you let me brag about it a bit #I feel like people nowadays are trying a little to hard to force romance (and other dynamic but romance especially) into some kind #eh..tiny boxes instead of letting characters actually interacting on independent manner?#like there's so many bookshops and book covers that say “enemies to lovers!!” on it and like #nothing else. that may be a fault of booktock cause so many videos in there are “top-5 friends to lovers books of the year!!”#I don't care?? tell me about the characters about how their personalities are connecting them tell me about their story about their quircks #about the parts of them that led to romance being as it is about the parts of them that compliment each other #TELL ME ABOUT THE BOOK AND THEIR PERSONALITIES GODDAMIT #I have nothing against people inventing a way of naming the progression their characters relationship are that's actually pretty handy #I'm just kinda puzzled cause way people are starting to act like having one of this two three maybe five classic tropes is a necessity #I cannot understand why people won't read a book simply because the cover doesn't say enemies to lovers #I cannot understand why ppl are thinking it's enough for characters to be enemies to lovers and nothing else #I was doing tell me abt your ship template with Sophie and I had to add a million of arrows and little texts explaining every specific #AND I LOVED IT SM LIKE THEY ARE SO??! THEMSELVES THEY ARE SO ALONE #you cannot understand how much I love it #(and yes I do categorise my ships sometimes it's just I feel I don't put as much meaning into it as someone else would??)#hmc book #howl's moving castle book #hmc #howell jenkins #sophie hatter #howl x sophie #howl's moving castle #howl pendragon

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rosiesdisneydrama · 1 day ago

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GF X Sky: This is MY House

AN: Just to explain the pronouns in this, Stan (like most Sky Spirits) is Non-Binary. He uses He/They pronouns. While Ford is firmly male and uses He/Him pronouns.

I tried to show Stan’s pronouns (and his difference from cannon) by switching between he and they between paragraphs for him. It may have gotten a bit confusing though so I’m not sure how well that worked. But it’s an experiment because NB characters are new for me to write so it’s unfamiliar territory which I’m still learning.

Here’s hoping I nailed it!

Also, heads up for some swearing. Bc Stan kinda blows his top at Ford in this.

Soos and Wendy had, successfully, convinced the kids to go out with them for a fun day at the mall so Ford and Stan could have the chance to finally have a long-awaited talk. A talk that had been waiting for thirty years to happen.

Stan had so much that he’d wanted to tell Ford when he’d first gotten his postcard in the mail. For him, that single postcard was a glimmer of hope. The hope that it had been for him when it arrived at his crummy little apartment that he was barely scraping together the money to pay for. The hope that, even if he didn’t have a home to go back to, then he might at least still have a brother to go back to.

(A brother who was finally reaching out to them, after ten years of silence. A brother who’d needed them. A brother who’d wanted them. Even if they were tangled and confused and struggling to tell who they were from who they used to be.)

He’d wanted to tell him about the memories that had filled his head suddenly when he’d nearly died. About the Realms of the Sky and everything in them that he could remember. He’d wanted to maybe, just maybe, try to find them and see if they were as real as they felt to him. With his brother there to help him do it.

But Ford had crushed that hope almost as soon as Stan had shown up outside his door. Whether or not his brother even realized that was what he’d done to them at that moment. The moment when he shoved his research journal at them and told them to get out, saying it was the chance to finally “do something useful”, he had crushed part of Stanley’s heart.

And oh had that stung when he’d heard it. That his brother, his twin, only saw him for how useful he was to him. That the only reason he had reached out was because he wanted something from him. That Stan needed to be useful for him to care about him.

As if staying alive for ten years on their own wasn’t enough. As if surviving against people who’d decided that they were better off dead wasn’t enough. As if all the work they’d put into cleaning their act up after nearly being drowned in a damn car trunk wasn’t enough for someone to care.

They had been ready to walk out on their brother at that moment, this time of their own accord because they weren’t about to let Ford treat them like that. Like some tool that he could use and throw away whenever he pleased. (Like every other bastard that had tried to use them before.)

Stan was a person, not an object that was only around to be used. And he wasn’t about to become one just to make his asshole brother happy.

It had turned into a fight, messy and sudden from their hurt angry feelings and Ford’s manic demands.

Stan ended up getting branded from Ford shoving him into some piece of equipment. And Ford had been sucked into his monstrous portal before it blew itself up.

It had taken decades for them to repair it and do what they could to ensure that the only thing that came through was their brother. Magic wasn’t one of their strong suits but they didn’t trust whatever was on the other side of that thing to be safe. Not with the way Ford had been acting about the damn thing. (They hadn’t even been sure Ford would be there when it opened.) So they used their meager knowledge of magic and what ingredients they could cobble together to alter the portal enough that only someone related to them could come through.

(Blood was always a dangerous ingredient in magic, but a completely necessary one for Stan’s plan.)

But he’d done it. He had done it. Ford was home again, in the world where he belonged. And it was Stanley who’d managed to get him back.

His brother wasn’t happy with them about it, though. Getting punched in the face the moment Ford saw them had made that clear. Or the way he had talked to them in those moments in the dark of the destroyed basement. That hurt too. Nothing Stan did was ever enough for him. Like it had been with Pa.

It had been forty years since that damned science fair and Ford was still holding a grudge over it. FORTY FUCKING YEARS. Stan had moved on, but it seemed his brother hadn’t.

(And Ford seemed to think that Stanley was the one who needed to grow up.)

They watched Soos’ car leave through the window, taking both of their employees and their great niece and great nephew into town. A day at the mall would, hopefully, keep the kids occupied enough to not worry about what was happening in the Shack without them. They would be far enough away that the kids wouldn’t hear the impending screaming match between their two grunkles. Because, at this point, Stan was expecting it to turn into a fight.

They would both say things they probably wouldn’t mean, and throw out things that cut deep and hurt to hear said to them. That was, sadly, the kind of thing that they would be very good at doing.

It was going to hurt so much. But, maybe, it was time to stop running away from the pain.

He took in a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. Time to get this over with.

“Alright, Pointdexter. It’s just us now. Say whatever it is you wanted to get into yesterday.” He remembered how Ford had tried to start it the night he’d finally come back.

They’d been able to tell just from the look on his face that, whatever he’d wanted to say at that moment, wasn’t going to be good and would quickly turn into a fight. And they both had plenty of ammunition on each other to make the ensuing fight loud and painful and far too easy to catch the kids in the blast zone. So he’d shut it down, fast and hard, before Ford could get much out and send them both over the edge.

Ford sighed, crossing his arms and half-glaring at Stanley from behind his glasses.

“Good. Here’s the deal, Stanley. You can stay here for the rest of the summer and keep watch over the kids. I’ll likely be spending most of my time in the basement trying to contain any remaining damage from the portal being opened, so I will not have time to keep an eye on them. But at the end of summer, once they’ve left, you will give me my house back; you will give me my name back and this “Mystery Shack” junk is over for good. You got it?”

Stanley gapped at him, jaw working in silent shock. Ford couldn’t be serious about this. But, looking over his brother’s face…

Ford was being completely serious. He was just going to throw them out as soon as he didn’t need them to keep watch over the kids for him. That they would only be allowed to stay for as long as Ford had something he could use them for. (Just like when he asked them to come to Gravity Falls all those years ago.)

Then, everything in him burned.

Stanley had felt anger before. It was a very familiar feeling for them. One that they grappled with plenty of times before and they had even learned to (mostly) keep their control over it now. They’d learned that they were just the sort to feel more than most folks and that was fine. Normal for them, even.

He cried more. He laughed more. He raged more. He simply felt more than most folks. It was just how he was. And he knew it. Had learned to embrace it, even.

But this? Ford telling them to just pack up and get out as soon as the summer was over? After everything they’d done for him? Everything they'd given up for their brother over the years?

No, Stan wasn't just angry.

He was FURIOUS.

“No,” Stan’s answer was short and with an edge of their fury escaping. An edge that Ford seemed to miss entirely based on the way his eyes narrowed at his sibling.

“That wasn't a request-” he started but Stanley cut him off with a short, harsh laugh. It was a laugh Ford would have never heard from him before.

(He had never been on the receiving end of rage like this before.)

“Oh, I know it wasn't a “request” Ford. I may not be a genius, but I’m not that stupid.” They put the can of soda down with more force than needed. They continued, “I’m not leaving. Not after everything I've put into this place.”

“Stanley, stop being…” Stan’s head snapped to Ford, eyes glaring with more fury than Ford had ever seen from him before.

“No, Ford. You aren't kicking me out of my house just because you’re back in this reality. Because, after thirty years of being here? This is my house.” They pushed themself up, never breaking eye contact with their brother. Ford looked like he was going to say something, but Stan cut him off. “Did you know that your grants had been cut by the time I showed up here? You’d been MIA for so long with them that they assumed you were either dead or too unreliable for them to keep funding. It was in the letters and phone messages you’d been ignoring while you were losing your shit up here.”

He laughed again, harsh and cold. He could see Ford’s eyes widen at that, caught flat-footed by the revelation. It was likely the first time he’d considered what had happened to his grant money without him publishing papers to keep it. Clearly, he hadn’t considered that he might be broke when he finally came back to earth again.

They pressed onward, too angry to stop telling Ford everything that he’d forgotten to factor into his return.

“Oh man, those messages were nasty to listen to. They got damn cruel when they were sure that they were just talking to a dead man. It’s amazing what people will say to someone when they think there’s no one to call them out on it. I still have the tapes, if you wanna hear them yourself. I put them in a lockbox where the rest of your important documents are. I wanted to be sure no one would be able to steal them.” He waved his hand nonchalantly, as he mentioned that.

They kept the key to that box on their key ring, with the box itself hidden in the false back of one of the cabinets in Ford’s secret study. They’d had plenty of time to find all of Ford’s secret places, and the fact that more than a few of them were keyed to Ford’s eye (and theirs by extension) made them very secure places in the house. So they made sure to hide everything truly important in those rooms. It did a fantastic job of hiding things from anyone trying to rob them.

(Sure, he’d missed a few items but he was able to recover from those oversights well enough.)

“But, while listening to those, I realized that any money you had was about to be gone and I had no way to pay your bills. Not as myself, at least. That was when I started pretending to be you, as I’m sure you can guess. I didn’t do it because I wanted to wreck your life while you were gone like you seem to think I did. I did it because I wanted to make sure you’d still have something to come back to.” Stan remembered the panic they felt when they’d had that realization. The desperate planning they did to figure out how they could make enough money in the short window of time they had to keep the house up and running while they tried to bring Ford back. “Wasn’t long after that that I started running the Shack. I knew I couldn't fake being you well enough to make the government grant guys think everything was fine, so I had to come up with something else. So I played to my strengths and made something I could do that would pay your bills.”

“You... You still changed my labs into-” Stanley snarled at him, forcing him to clam up.

“I had to work my ass off to start up the Shack in time to pay your bills while still making it good enough to actually turn a profit. I can’t even count the number of nights I had to skip eating just to make sure the power bill was paid that month, on top of the heating and the groceries and rebuilding that fucking portal. Not to mention paying for your stupidly expensive mortgage so that the bank wouldn’t repossess the house! Because you were fucking terrified of someone coming to this place and, at least with the Shack, I had some control over who came and went. And I could chase out anyone who acted strange or didn’t take a hint that they weren’t supposed to stick around.”

Ford swallowed nervously, likely imagining the potential danger now that Stan had said it aloud. If his sibling had just taken the journal and left then everything he’d created would have been at risk. Anyone could have used and abused everything he’d been going out of his mind to keep safe.

“But if the bank took the place then any Tom, Dick, or Harry would be able to buy it and have free access to everything you were trying to hide! Or, Stars Forbid, they could have tried to get the money for the house out of Ma or Pa. We both know Pa wouldn’t have fucking bothered to keep your house for you. No, he would have emptied the place out by auctioning off everything you owned and then selling the shell off to the highest bidder! Pa’s never given a shit about “sentimentality” when he could be turning a profit instead.”

Stan knew that from experience. Why else would Pa throw out his seventeen-year-old kid with nothing but his car, his wallet, and a duffel bag of clothes? He’d been sabotaged from the start by his own father, why would Ford be given any leeway just because he was the “smart” one? Who’d gone “missing” and now people were coming to collect.

No, Pa had been just as much of a threat to everything Ford had been trying to keep safe as anyone else. Stan hadn’t felt any regret about tricking their father into thinking they were actually Ford. (Ma and Shermie, on the other hand? They felt bad about lying to them.)

“That’s not even getting into how anyone would have been able to break in whenever they liked until Pa or the bank managed to sell it off! With the place empty, anybody with a good ax or a sledgehammer could have gotten in and had the run of the place with no one to stop them. And the people in town sure as hell wouldn’t try to keep that shit from happening. Most of them didn’t even know your fucking name!” He let out another harsh cackle, remembering those first few months of being riddled with anxiety while running around town. Constantly expecting someone to call him out as an imposter only for it to never happen. “It’s almost tragic how easily I was able to convince them I was actually you! Thanks to the damn portal blowing up, I had enough burns on me to wave off anyone asking about why my hair was different or why I had tattoos. All I had to say was that some invention blew up on me and I wanted to cover up the scars with something and everyone just nodded and went with it!”

“You were burned?” Ford’s voice was small, his eyes trailing over the tattoos that decorated the side of Stan’s face and head. Looking at the marks and the shaved side of Stan’s head in a new light.

Their smile was sharp and cold as their brother finally looked past their tattoos to think about why they might have gotten them. About what could have motivated his salesman sibling to leave permanent marks on their face where everyone could see them, despite the biases they had grown up with about tattoos. Their scars had made them decide to get the tattoos they had before finally, but they’d since healed up.

He kept the tattoos to connect to the life he’d had before being Stanley Pines. Because that life mattered to him, even if he wasn’t living it anymore.

“Oh yeah, nothing I’d needed to be hospitalized for, thankfully. They’ve fully healed over at this point, but they were pretty ugly for a while. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the reasons the locals had been so willing to buy my earlier gift shop shit was out of pity. But I wasn’t about to complain, not when I had to pay your bills to keep the house. Not when there were nights when I had to skip sleeping to make things to earn money. Not when I had to convince the local bank to look past my handwriting to accept a check for the latest bill I was trying to pay off. Not when I was running myself ragged to make ends meet and bring you back!” Their voice was getting progressively louder as they went on, face morphing in fury as they stepped closer and closer. Until they were roaring at their brother in the small kitchen. They slammed their hand onto the table, snarling in rage as they continued. “Not when I’ve been putting weeks and months and years into learning enough to fix that damn portal on the vague hope that I could get you back because you’re my brother and I wasn’t going to just leave you for dead! I spent the last thirty years running myself into the ground to get you back and to make sure there would still be something for you to come back to! I put everything I had into taking care of this house and making the town care enough to help me when I needed it!”

Ford was leaning back in his seat, his face a mix of nervous and shocked by everything Stan was unloading on him. Things he’d been keeping to himself for years but were finally being triggered by his callousness into letting out. (By how short-sighted and selfish Ford had been to tell him to just pack up and get out.)

“I’m the one who paid the bills. I’m the one who kept the house from being repossessed. I’m the one who made sure you wouldn’t be broke or homeless or legally dead when you finally came back! I’m the one who poured THIRTY YEARS of their LIFE into this house and the town.” They were in Ford’s face at that point, snarling in rage and looming furiously over their wide-eyed, speechless brother. Their chest was heaving with fury as they glared into their brother’s face. “The world didn’t pause itself just because you weren’t here to be part of it. Shit happened and things changed.”

He roughly jabbed his finger into Ford’s chest, spitting out his words at him. Words that needed to be said aloud. Things that needed to be said by him and no one else.

“Your name may be on the deed, Ford, but this is my house. And I’m not letting you just take it from me.”

AN: Woooo! All done. I wrote this because I saw a post about an alternate way Stan and Ford’s conversation could have gone at the end of atots. Where Stan decided to finally stand up for himself and call out the way Ford was just- blatantly ignoring the way things had changed without him there in favor of his “I Am The Hero” mindset. And I was then firmly possessed during one lunch break to write one myself that was kinda crossover-y. Because I wanted to give Stan something a little more in terms of his central character to help him have the nerve to finally stand up to his twin brother.

(Make them a little less self-hating so that they won’t just roll over and accept whatever Ford wants from them.)

I especially wanted to harp on all the things that would have happened if Stan hadn’t been there. Not just by rebuilding the portal so that Ford could come back, but also by ensuring Ford’s bills were paid and that no one knew Ford was gone/missing.

Stan, in this, doesn’t go as deep into the fine details of what they went through while pretending to be Ford as they could have. Mostly because there are a LOT and they don’t have the time to get into them. They’re mostly harping on the most important details that Ford didn’t consider that Stan themself had already been forced to live with. (Broke and homeless with no one to turn to/rely on for help.)

Like, if Stan had taken the book and left after Ford went through the portal, there was every chance that someone else could have had access to the portal. Ford could have been declared LEGALLY DEAD after going missing for 30 years and having all of his assets liquidated and probably sent to his family. Or just eaten up by whatever bank he used to cover their supposed “lost” funds.

And trying to change that would have been a huge pain in the ass if there wasn’t anyone he could ask for help to prove he was the real deal. And that would have been just for his legal records. His financial ones would have been damn near impossible to reclaim.

He ABSOLUTELY would have been SOL if Stan hadn’t decided to take over Ford’s identity.

It’s only fair for him to be forced to realize that after being such a jerk to his own Twin by trying to send his brother back to a life of being broke and homeless but this time as a 60-something-year-old man.

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