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l-artemisia-del-secolo · 2 months ago

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You almost missed the meeting regarding the new exhibit. You had to validate a few showpieces. Books mostly this time. On one of them... what was it... runes... Red cover with rubies, one could think it was painted with blood itself.

Your own reflection in the stones was teasing you. This object was powerful, it was alluring, it was dangerous. You didn't notice how others left.

You were left with the book in the storage. Who created it and why? You were not new to artifacts of presumed witchcraft. But this... it was different. As if the blood on the cover was instantly flowing changing the shades.

Oh, it was one of those days. Time didn't matter.

"Fascinating, isn't it?"

"Oh yes, it is." You didn't even look up. "Have never seen anything like this."

"Oh, I did. A very long time ago. This book belonged to ruthless people."

"What?"

She was a foreigner in this brightly lit room. Nonchalantly sitting in one of those uncomfortable chairs. When did she come in?

"We need to close the storage. All your colleagues left a few hours ago."

Hours? Really? What was she even talking about? You checked your phone. A few missed calls and messages.

Brunette was smiling at your confusion.

"Have we met before?"

"No, I'm instead of Jeff."

"What happened? I saw him yesterday."

"Oh..." Brunette was kinda lost for an instant. "He had to leave. You know. Another department. My name's Rio".

She stood up and very officially offered you her hand.

"Pleased to meet you. My name's..."

"I know everything about you."

Rio was still holding your hand. Maybe you did see her before. Those green eyes. They were mesmerising.

______

A few days passed. You didn't have time to examine the book, but you kept thinking about it. Weirdly your thoughts were coming back to it. In what circumstances something like this could be created? What was written there?

You wanted to feel that book again. Sharp edges and ancient pages.

From the book your mind wandered to the stranger. You asked your colleagues. They knew Jeff was gone, but who was instead of him - no idea. You wanted to see her again. you wanted to lose yourself in those gentle touches again.

___

A few more days. You were giving a lecture. Confident and charming you were in your element. Until you noticed those green eyes amongst the audience. Rio was catching your every move, your every word.

"You were amazing." Brunette caught you after the class. "Truly a master of your craft."

"Well, I do have a certain area of expertise."

"What a tease."

Oh, now you were definitely blushing.

"I haven't seen you at the museum." You tried to find a more safe subject.

"I was busy with other projects. I'm kinda like a consultant for confused people."

You nodded. Why was looking at you like this? As if expecting something, as if waiting for the answer.

"Well, you did find the time for the lecture."

"I found the time for the lecturer."

"I appreciate both the time and the effort."

"Yeah, you have no idea how determined I can be."

Rio winked at you. She was busy, she had to go. She chose to leave you with just a hint of satisfaction.

"Oh, and the book., It is waiting for you."

____

Rio was right. You had to concentrate on your work. Exhibit was approaching, your input was needed. You were spending more and more time with the remains of the old times. You were spending more and more time with that damned book. Those runes were not known to you. As the symbols. Looked like an interpretation of the maiden-mother-crone myth, but there was a green halo around them.

"You need coffee."

That wasn't a question. With Rio nothing was.

"Thanks." You took a sip "Oh, double espresso. How did you know?"

"Had a feeling, you like it... intense."

"Sure."

"So..." Rio nudged your shoulder to get all the attention she always required. "How is this thing going?"

"Good."

"And this?" She pointed at the book.

"Waiting for the answer from a few colleges."

"Well, I'm sure the answer is going to be fascination. But..." She took your phone and bag without asking. "you need to be someplace else."

___

Why did you even let her command? You just blinked and suddenly you were near an old theater.

"Magic show?"

Rio had tickets for the first row.

"What can I say? I was always fond of illusions."

It was noticeable. She was cheering even for the simplest tricks. She adored theatricality and tension. Except for maybe the tricks that involved cheating death. Yeah, Rio huffed in annoyance a few times.

"Well, this is not how I expected my evening to go."

Street was completely silent. You and Rio were the only ones who decided to enjoy the autumn night.

"I can tell you how all the tricks worked."

Oh, for sure Rio knew.

"It's your hobby?"

"Let's say, I've seen these shows quite a few times."

"That would destroy all the magic part of the performance, don't you think?"

Rio stopped, snapped her fingers and in the other hand a flower appeared.

"Oh, you're smooth." You laughed at the present. "So, you're into tricks."

"No, I'm more into magic."

______

It was a book of protective spells. It was supposed to save from evil and wrong, from hungry and desperate. And not protect, it was supposed to hide from the sight of darkness. Someone was supposed to be hidden in the blood of the killed. You spend hours trying to find the recipient of this protection.

"Well, that's an interesting observation." Rio put her legs on the table. You were having a dinner at your office. "Amazing."

"I'm glad you're happy with my research."

"I truly am. Do you know how those spells are supposed to be activated."

"I assume by the blood of the protected."

"Yeah, guess it could work." Rio shrugged. "Witches were never that imaginative."

It became some kind of a routine. At the beginning you didn't see Rio at all. But now she was always near. With lunches, coffees, books and affection. And whatever she was calling magic.

Rarely you could feel comfortable with someone so close. For years you preferred to be on your own. It just never clicked with anyone. But Rio... she knew you. Your tastes, your dreams, your desires. Her affection was a given, just a fact that you stumbled into. It was a weird feeling. Like you were continuing to live something you never had.

____

"I don't think you're doing it right."

You could feel Rio was close. Her hair was almost tickling your neck. There was no need for her to stay right behind you. But it apparently was the best spot to watch you translating the text.

"You're being a little distractive, Rio."

"How? I'm helping. This sign here. It clearly doesn't mean death."

"Well, that's a woman with a skull instead of a face."

"I'd say she's more about the natural order of things.'

"Maybe."

___

You were working more, you were sleeping less. You were distracted. Your dreams changed, in them you could freely read the spells. Voices without purpose were helping you. Sometimes even Rio couldn't have you all for herself.

"I brought you something."

"Huh?"

Rio was holding a dagger. Black stones, same runes.

"Just don't play with it often."

"Where did you get this?"

"It was here all the time. Kinda lost in the mess."

"Yeah."

You didn't care whether she was lying or not. Was it the other part of the story? Was it the threat or help?

You took it. Heavy with cold and sharp with pain it fit your hand properly.

"Every witch was supposed to have such a dagger." Rio took the knife. "Usually it was carved with the symbols of a greater entity, You know for protection."

She was holding your hand, caressing the palm with the cold of a steel. Still dangerous, still deadly. You didn't dare to look at her movements.

"And what entity protected this blade?"

"I think you know. You read the spells."

You could feel your skin almost succumbing to the blade. But it was so much more unbearable to have Rio so close. She was the perfection itself. You didn't care about the blade, you leaned into her.

"Fuck." you muttered under your breath. But it was too late. Your blood was spilled.

You were her prey, Rio pushed and you and the blade cut deeper, but you didn't care. She was kissing you, she was hurting you.

Dagger fell on the floor. Without breaking the kiss Rio guided your hands to the support of the table. Your wound touched the book.

Suddenly the pain shot through your whole body. You wanted to scream, but Rio didn't let you. Holding you, making you feel her passion, brunette was only deepening the kiss.

You opened your eyes. The room was on fire. Games of the primal flame were everywhere. Everything was melting away. Instead another reality was forming.

You groaned into the kiss. It was familiar. It took all the strength you had to push Rio away. She was breathing heavily.

"What the..." you looked at your palm. It was healed. "What... what happened..."

Those voices were right. Rio. It was all because of Rio.

"It was the only way..."

Her voice was trembling. You heard this already. Her plea, her apology.

"I know you." You took the book from the table. Now those spells made sense. "Rio Vidal."

"I thought... " She was choking on her regret and doubt. "I thought I wouldn't be able to find you."

"I remember..."

Rio gently touched your cheek. You didn't feel it. Suddenly there was a wall with the thickness of centuries.

"My love..."

"It was always you, wasn't it?" Your fingers were tingling. "You were always the reason."

"I don't..."

"They died because of you."

"What? No."

You grabbed her wrist. You were strong, stronger than you remembered. Purple magic was pouring from your veins. It didn't let Rio move.

"Because of you all those people were dead. You attacked innocents."

"No."

"My coven tried to hunt you. And in return you destroyed others."

'"No, no, no. These are not your memories. It's an illusion your coven gave you."

You pushed her. Rio was the plague. You remembered it. Your sisters warned you.

"I will banish you from here."

Rio didn't even think about defending herself. She needed to let you be closer.

You grabbed her by the throat. Rio only obeyed. You needed to cut out her black heart.

You waved and the dagger appeared in your hand. You were calling for your weapon. It returned to the magic that created it. But the second you were ready to swing, it burned you.

You were holding the same knife Rio gave you. It wasn't possible. Your enemy was protecting you.

"No. It's not true..."

Yes, you didn't remember. But what if... you were holding a piece of your old life. Rio was in every cell of your body. How long were you like this? How long were you far from her? You were still washed over by hate. But not because of Rio. No, you couldn't hurt her.

"I can help you..."

You shook your head in disbelief and disappeared in purple smoke.

_____

You didn't know where to go. The life you remembered wasn't yours, just as a life you were living for the last who knew how many years.

Your sisters betrayed you, they were not the only ones. Such strong magic required the assistance of the sorcerer supreme.

It doesn't matter what you were thinking about, you always were coming back to Rio. She saved you, she broke the spell. But if she was the one lying. What if she forged the blade? No, no, not possible. Not your Rio. Your Rio? What these weeks meant for you? Were you in love?

Not only your head, your blood was boiling with magic. You forgot this feeling. You were trying to control the shaking in your hands but it was just getting worse.

"Rio." you whispered.

"Yes, my love."

She appeared in front of you. Her crown was glowing in the dark. No point in playing pretend anymore.

"This blade belongs to me."

Rio nodded.

"You're the entity that is protecting me."

Nod again.

"What happened?"

"They wanted to separate us. They were afraid that you would have special treatment. And with that become too powerful for them to handle."

"Special treatment?"

"Yes." Rio hesitated. "You were the only one who could have my... favor."

"I don't understand."

"You could be invincible. I wouldn't let anything happen to you. You were one of the more powerful wielders of magic. And that was a dangerous combination. So they hid you. Sealed you in the book. It took me centuries to find you."

Your heart was aching. If it was true, your life was taken by those whom you considered family.

"And we..." You blinked away a memory. "Did we ever have a garden?"

"Oh, yes." Rio dared to come closer. "I created a pocket dimension for us. Just us. We could do whatever we wanted."

"I also remember that Rio is not your only name."

She was dreading this moment. For her only hope was left. But for you it was finally the beginning. Not the memories, but affection was guiding you. All those memories of Rio's betrayal. You had to trust your heart. Hate wasn't yours, it wasn't real.

Yes, it was the truth. It was always Rio. The only thing you wanted was for her to be your reason for existence. And it only could be explained with memories that you couldn't fathom.

You were gravitating towards her. It was easier for you to believe in the ghost of ancient love than lose Rio. Your Rio.

"No, it's not."

For the first time Rio wasn't looking you in the eyes. You had to lift her chin. She was barely breathing, she was barely even functioning, waiting for your sentence. Regal entity reduced to a mortal.

"I'm in love with Rio, but Lady Death..." You pulled her into a kiss. This time your powers entwined with the glow being almost unbearable to be around. "...is a part of me."

"I will help you remember. I will help you return everything they've stolen from you."

"Oh yes." You smiled into her skin. "Right after I punish those who separated us."

#marvel self insert #marvel #agatha all along #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal #rio vidal x you

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indigovigilance · 1 year ago

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A Nightingale Sang in 1941

This is my inaugural meta (yay!) Eventually I will learn how to add gifs and whatnot to make this more interesting but today, I give you a wall of text.

I need to give credit where credit is due to three existing metas that I’m drawing upon heavily here:

A speculative continuation of the 1941 story, which includes an almost-kiss while “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” plays on the gramophone,

A behavioral analysis of Aziraphale during the S2E6 finale (will find ref later if possible)

A meta-analysis of the way in which “coffee” is used as a symbolic equivalent for liberty and freedom of choice, a running theme of this show (will find ref later if possible)

I’m going to expand upon meta #2 and #3 and explain why I think there is are very compelling reasons to believe that #1 will be canonized.

At the end of S1E6, an instrumental version of “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” plays diegetically, but the lyrical version plays non-diegetically over the credits (we hear it but the protagonists don’t). So we the audience could plausibly say “that’s their song,” but as of the close of S1, we have no reason to believe that they know that it’s their song. Even Aziraphale’s S1E3 (1967) suggestion that they dine at the Ritz could be a reference that only he gets, or just a fancy restaurant suggestion.

So when I was watching S2E6 and Crowley said “no nightingales,” I was jarred. What does that even mean? We know it has something to do with dining at the Ritz, but what does it mean to them? The reference only works if they know it’s their song. But we’ve only ever seen them hear it together after the averted apocalypse; if this is the direct reference that Crowley is making, it leaves our 1967 reference contextless and twisting in the wind.

If we assume that there was a romantic story beat in 1941, wherein “A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square” (which, incidentally, was written in 1939 and saw the height of its popularity at the end of 1940, so timeline-wise it’s spot-on) became their song, then a lot of events get renewed interpretations through this lens, in a way that makes this story much more cohesive and the “no nightingales” comment even more soul-shattering than it already was.

Let’s presume that immediately after this became their song and just as they were discovering their romantic potential, they were forced back into hiding. Forever after, references to the song serve as a macro for “I’d like to pick up where we left off that night.”

The 1967 suggestion of “dining at the Ritz” now becomes a directly romantic suggestion. It also gives better context for “you go too fast for me.”

Actually going to the Ritz in 2019 is not simply a celebration or even a callback to 1967, it’s a callback to their almost-romance of 1941.

When Crowley says “no nightingales” in 2023, this isn’t to say “we’re not going to eat together at the Ritz anymore.” It’s saying that the romance that began that night, the precious, fragile romance, is over.

I’ll give you a moment to dry your eyes before we move on to metas #2 and #3.

In light that this is what has been going on - they know they want a romantic relationship but have gotten so used to hiding and denying it that they are more comfortable keeping the status quo static and quo-y then trying to achieve their ideal - a lot of S2 behavior can get a fresh view.

Crowley’s reaction to Nina isn’t a realization that he’s in love - he knew that already. You can only ask someone to run away with you so many times before you are forced to admit some things to yourself. No, he’s realizing that trying to hide it (which was justified by survival), hasn’t been working, but despite failing at being stealth nothing bad has happened. He’s realizing that it may finally be safe to show it.

Crowley’s confession, then, is not a revelation. It’s making the subtext text. He’s not telling Aziraphale anything he didn’t already know. He’s saying it now because he thinks he’s safe to do so. Pin in that.

Lots of people have lots of theories about Aziraphale’s motivations in the S2 finale, which can more or less be divided into 4 camps: the genuinely held belief, the coffee theory, the lie theory, and the mutual trick theory (some version of the body-switching at the end of S1). Let me start by saying that I love all the fans and all their theories and I find their analyses to be insightful. The genuinely held belief theory, while I believe it to be erroneous, has been incredibly conducive to so many wonderful conversations and I love being in a community that has those conversations. But I’m going to explain why I think the lie theory finds the most support in canon.

Re-watch the finale (when you feel like you can) from 35:18 to 36:19 and then from 40:45 to the end, paying very close attention to Aziraphale’s words and his eyes. Michael Sheen is telling us a LOT with his eyes, and in the back half of the finale scene, with pacing.

For 60 seconds of footage, this setup is doing a lot of work. If Neil Gaiman wasn’t doing enough to beat us over the head with how evil the Metatron is, that glare at Crowley at the end with the non-diegetic ominous horns should convey the message. But again, focusing on Aziraphale. He initially refuses to talk to the Metatron; he’s made his position quite clear. There is no hint of regret or wavering; this is not someone who’s aching to return to the fold. The Metatron ignores his refusal and functionally forces him to accept a “cup of coffee.” The coffee isn’t spiked, but it is a metaphor. It is symbolic of choice. The Metatron is going to force Aziraphale to make a choice. Meta #3 does a great job of exploring the idea that a choice between anything and death is never really a choice. Hang onto that thought.

Notice I had you start up again 3 seconds before “The Conversation.” That’s because it’s important to note where the Metatron is right now. He is across the street, staring straight in through those giant windows to where our protagonists are about to have The Conversation. He is watching.

When Aziraphale returns, Crowley begins his “let me talk” riff. Aziraphale ought to be interested in what Crowley has to say, since the preamble is pretty compelling. You’ll notice that Aziraphale quickly turns to the window and back, through which he (but not we) can see the Metatron standing there, watching them. Aziraphale is then doing his best to get Crowley to STFU without raising the suspicion of the Metatron, eventually having to cut him off.

Because unfortunately, Crowley’s entire impetus for speaking up now is that it’s safe to do so. Only Aziraphale knows that they are in very real danger (or at least, Crowley is, but I’ll come back to that).

You might take something from the fact that he’s shaking his head while talking about “incredibly good news,” and seems to self-censor his criticism of Metatron (or more specifically, he takes ownership of any criticism of the Metatron, censoring out Crowley’s role in that, with the emphasis on I in “I might have misjudged him”).

Notice in the flashback that he begins the conversation reasonably relaxed. The Metatron also says a series of things about him that not only are false, but everyone, including the Metatron and Crowley, know are false: Aziraphale is not a leader, he’s a defector; he’s not honest, he lies all the time, in fact this entire season revolved around his one huge lie of hiding Gabriel. Not only does the justification not make sense coming from Metatron, but it shouldn’t make sense that Aziraphale would accept these reasons and it shouldn’t make sense to Crowley either. So is Aziraphale including these details in his recounting to Crowley so that he will get suspicious and figure out the jig? Maybe. Let’s continue.

Immediately upon being offered the job of Supreme Archangel, Aziraphale says “but I don’t want to go back to Heaven.” This is direct evidence against the genuinely held belief theory. If returning to Heaven and making a difference was a genuine motivation, we would have gotten a different response at this moment. But then we get something more.

“Where would I get my coffee?”

This is a beautiful response for a number of reasons; coffee should be trivial compared to the opportunity to be a Supreme Archangel, so it serves to highlight just how little interest Aziraphale has in returning. Taken at face value, it’s the Aziraphale equivalent of “not even at gunpoint.” But remember that coffee is a metaphor for liberty in this universe and this season. So what Aziraphale just said, in the language of Neil Gaiman metaphors, is:

I don’t want to go back to Heaven, I would rather have free will.

What does the Metatron do next?

He brings up Crowley.

Watch Aziraphale’s eyes before and after the mention of Crowley. He goes from confused to eye-flicking panic in the space of two syllables. Aziraphale already understands that his “no” is not being accepted, and that bringing Crowley into it can only possibly serve as a threat.

So the coffee, the choice, is a false choice. No one ever orders death. The Metatron has forced Aziraphale into a situation that looks an awful lot like a choice (it comes in a blue cup, after all) but it isn’t.

We definitely have some reliable narrator problems here. I’m going to presume for purposes of analysis that these cut-outs are accurate but incomplete, and that a more explicit threat about what would happen to Crowley if Aziraphale did not return to Heaven was made.

If we assume that Aziraphale has been made aware of a threat and is trying to hide that from Crowley, the rest of this scene reads very differently. Aziraphale cannot say, “you are in danger but you will be safe if you swear your allegiance to Heaven” or “I have to go, no matter what, and the only way we can be together is if you come with me,” but nonetheless he now has to convince Crowley to do the one thing he ought to know Crowley definitely doesn’t want to do all through subtext. Which we’ve spent an entire season establishing that they can’t communicate well when they are allowed to use their words. Disastrously, this is not a magic trick that Aziraphale can make work when it counts. Their failure to practice good communication means that, right now, when it counts most, they are not going to pull it off.

We see that Aziraphale is very hopeful that Crowley will pick up on his cues and play along. Obviously, he doesn’t.

If the whole riff about Hell being bad guys and Heaven being the side of truth and light is taken as genuine, it discards a massive amount of character development that we’ve witnessed in Job, Edinburgh, etc. (again, to all the genuine belief subscribers, I think it’s a compelling argument but it simply doesn’t account for the evidence). So if it’s not genuine, why say it? Again, to alert Crowley that something is Off, because Crowley should know that Aziraphale doesn’t actually believe that. They saved humanity from Heaven and Hell. They hid Gabriel from Heaven and Hell. Crowley knows that Aziraphale knows that Heaven and Hell are just two sides of the same coin. Notice again that Aziraphale glances out the window while he’s talking up Heaven; he knows the Metatron is watching, he can’t not defend the position of Heaven. I think it’s also worth noting that Aziraphale forcefully glances and gestures off to Crowley’s left (away from the window) when talking about Hell, and then turns his head to Crowley’s right (towards the window) to try to get him to realize that a representative of Heaven is literally standing right over there, just look out the window please dumbass!

When Crowley is asking Aziraphale if he said no, and we see the back of Aziraphale’s head, again we can see him turn his head to glance out the window. This is also when he changes strategies, and admits that Heaven could use a little reform. Because now there’s a problem almost as big as getting caught, which is that he won’t be able to get Crowley to go with him.

Which unfortunately makes the next part of this so much more heartbreaking. Because when Crowley begins his speech about being a team, Aziraphale wants to hear it. He can’t bring himself to shut down Crowley again, even though it could get them both in massive trouble. Notice that he glances out the window again during this, and the look of panic on his face. He begins to shake his head when Crowley mentions that Heaven and Hell are toxic; this can be taken a lot of ways but I’ll argue for the interpretation that he’s trying to get Crowley to STFU and stop saying shit that could get him destroyed.

After Crowley puts on his sunglasses we are in the “back half” and Sheen is doing a lot with phrasing here, specifically pregnant pauses.

“Come with me… to Heaven!”

“We can be together… as angels!”

Based on the pacing decision I am thoroughly convinced that the first half of each of these statements is intended to be the message to Crowley and the second half is always a qualifying statement to satisfy the Metatron.

Unfortunately, these pregnant pauses are completely backfiring in their effect on Crowley. The sentiment gives him hope and the qualifying statement crushes it again immediately. He is being taken on a horrible emotional rollercoaster with these declarations which are only further amping up his instinct to run away.

The only truly genuine, unaldulterated statement I think we get from Aziraphale is

“I need you!”

When it becomes clear to Aziraphale that there’s been an irreparable breakdown of communication between them and the subtext is not getting across, he says:

“I don’t think you understand what I’m offering you.”

He means this literally. Crowley has not understood that Aziraphale is offering him protection from whatever threat the Metatron has made.

Which makes this part extra-devastating and also absolutely in keeping with a major running theme of this season.

“I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do.”

Your understanding and my understanding are different understandings.

Crowley views the offer to return to Heaven through the lens of his trauma. He understands what life in Heaven would be like. But he doesn’t understand that Aziraphale is offering him protection.

But Aziraphale just heard Crowley say that he understood everything, and he’s still going to leave. There might be a little suspense of disbelief here to believe that Aziraphale really interpreted the statement this way, but we know that Aziraphale isn’t always the brightest battery-operated candle in the drawer. So under the assumption that Crowley did understand him and is still rejecting the offer, rejecting him—

“Well, then there’s nothing more to say.”

Please pay very close attention to Aziraphale’s body language for the next part. He’s active, agitated, turning side to side, arms swinging. This is a very fidgety angel.

“No nightingales.”

Aziraphale is now completely still. He’s feeling that feeling. You know it. The one where your entire body is getting sucked into the pit of your stomach. The aching paralysis.

This is their song, the one that began their romance in 1941, the secret code for all other attempts at flirtation. Crowley has walked out on him before, Aziraphale has been stubborn and obstinate before. But they always came back together, sometimes with an apology dance or other rituals that belonged solely to them.

But now the song is over.

By saying this, Crowley has broken up with Aziraphale. We can see in Aziraphale’s sudden transition from fidgety to paralysis that he has understood it this way.

Then he turns away from the window so that the Metatron won’t see him cry.

The kiss was heart-wrenching already. But we’re not done with this analysis.

During the kiss, Aziraphale has a choice to make between two very compelling bad choices. This is the Job dilemma. But worse.

If he doesn’t kiss Crowley back, he will let Crowley think that he doesn’t love him. He will have missed out on this (maybe/probably their first kiss?) and regret it forever.

If he does kiss Crowley back, in full view of the Metatron, they are in deep trouble.

He seems to do his best to split the difference. I would even go so far to say that the awkward arm waving is Aziraphale acting for the Metatron’s benefit, to try to portray that he doesn’t want this even though he absolutely does (just not like this). The anguish when they break the kiss is absolutely real, and the first thing he does is glance out the window. Through all this he has remained painfully aware of their spectator.

He wants to say I love you. He mouths it. He breathes it.

But the Metatron is watching.

He can’t tell Crowley I love you. So he has to say the only other thing that has always unequivocally meant “I love you” when he said it to Crowley. He has to hope that Crowley understands him now, even though he never has before.

Spoiler alert: Crowley doesn’t.

My forgiveness and your forgiveness are not the same forgiveness.

One more point against the genuine belief fans (I love you): if the offer to let Crowley back in is what changed his mind, then Crowley declining removes that incentive. Aziraphale should/would have consequently retreated to his last stated position of “I don’t want to go back to Heaven, where would I get my Crowley—I mean, coffee?” [post-publication nod to @theonevoice for a great little meta] It simply doesn’t hold up to scrutiny.

I think a lot of fans were already making these assumptions about the use of the nightingale song so this meta may not feel revelatory, however, it isn’t canon (yet), and I’m sure I’ll find company that agree that canonization of this connection would strengthen a lot of these story points, as evidenced by how it is already assumed by many fans.

If you made it to the end - omg thank you! Please leave a note and tell me your thoughts!

Bonus: somebody already made the song connection here

~~~

if you liked this, you may also like:

Book of Life and what it means for Crowley

The Erasure of Human!Metatron

Baraqiel and Azazel

~~~

Recommended related (lie theory) metas by other people:

making the subtext text by @theonevoice

Aziraphale's Decision Matrix by @yowlthinks

Nothing Lasts Forever: META by @phoen1xr0se

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cozycottagetarot · 1 year ago

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What Do They Daydream About You?

How To Pick A Pile:

Everyone has their own technique for choosing a 'pile'. My recommendation is to clear your mind and focus on each image for a few seconds. The image you find yourself coming back to even when you focus on the other images is the pile for you.

Quick notes on this reading:

I'm experimenting with a different style. -- I've been working on shorter, less structured, formal pacs (and some longer ones). I'm not sure how I feel about it but I'd like to hear your thoughts too!

I apologise for any errors. -- My immune system and I have literally been at war for weeks, so know if there are any errors, I probably missed it while wincing in pain. 😅

It's purely for entertainment purposes. -- Don't think I need to explain more. Take what resonates be it all of it, some of it or none at all.

PILE 1

14:44 as I pulled the last card, maybe 444 is of importance to you at the moment. Knight in shining armour vibes. Noble acts or intentions of just sweeping you off your feet. Introducing you to their friends and or family. Daydreams of big celebrations of being with you, internally and externally. For some, they daydream about celebrating the news of having a child with you. Finding peace after long struggles... starting anew with you. Domestic bliss, as in chilling at home with someone you love, not doing much of anything. Or simply enjoying the mundane tasks together. Going for walks. Having a cup of tea or coffee together. Peppering your skin with kisses... maybe physical touch is their love language. The ghost of their fingertips on your skin. Heart-to-heart conversations. Falling into a routine with you. The magic of embarking on new beginnings with you.

PILE 2

North Star Vibes. Holding out hope that they make it to you. Trying to make life better so they can show up for you. They daydream about how you make them stronger, about you being a good influence on them. It's like the thought of you soothes them when they're struggling. Dreaming that happiness is coming in the form of you. Lots of fiery energy. You're a symbol of hope. Rediscovering what they had lost with you. Feels like someone who has been through a lot. Playfulness. Daydreaming about you is embodying those feelings that seem long forgotten. I know I keep repeating the same thing over and over, but I'm not getting anything more than that (even when I go back to the literal meaning of the cards) so I pulled some love messages. There's the cards 'twin flame', 'finding myself' and 'still listening'. My interpretation is that daydreaming about you holds a mirror up to themselves which inspires them to look deeper within and figure out what they want and who they want to be. They could also find solace in music, they may have a song or playlist that makes them feel more connected to you.

PILE 3

If you were drawn to pile 2, consider checking out that pile as well too. 333. The number 3 could hold some sort of significance.

Dreaming of an equal. Someone to keep them balanced and bring a new perspective. They could feel as though (or know) some kind of scrutiny is possible, but they spend their time dreaming of overcoming it. There could be cultural differences or for some it's a matter of being in a same-sex relationship or anything that goes against what may be more commonly accepted. If it's of any significance, the red string of fate (two different decks mention it). Power couple vibes. Being able to maintain a sense of youthfulness in the relationship. Someone who won't try to take advantage of them, who'll push them to be better and vice versa, who'll look out for them. Someone to heal with and understand that they are still healing. They could dream of having a child with you or starting a family in whatever format that may look like to both of you. Daydreams of warmth & protection. Giving and receiving. You could possibly meet at a concert or connect over music.

PILE 4

I did a repull to make sure I was reading the cards right (it was stormy) and the same cards came out after reshuffling (minus one card). I feel like this person has been reborn. Who they were is not who they are now (or when you meet them). They could daydream of being divinely guided towards you. Someone spiritual or religious. At the very least finding a connection with something (a concept) greater than them. Daydreams of being guided towards happiness. They had a teardown and rebuild of who they are. They could be from a different location, you could meet when travelling across a large body of water. It feels like they're dreaming of coming in hot. They're paving the way for their happy ending. Take it as you will, but instead of a 'damsel in distress' (regardless of gender, it's just women on the cards depicting forging on) type of story, it's one of those ones where it's like "you know what, I'll save myself and I'll chase after my happy ending". Actually, I get a-spec vibes as well and that this person could be a platonic love or a strong platonic bond. It could even be you respectively. But the energy is one of being inspired and ever-lasting bonds. A new resolve, coming home to oneself, resting in the knowledge that the future is going to be good because you'll make it so.

#quick pick #pick a card #pick a pile #pac reading #tarot reading #cozycottagetarot

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accio-bagel · 4 months ago

Text

✧ MC Intro Post ✧

I finally filled these out for my lil criminal 💚

Explanations & more info (ramblings) + her presets below the cut for anyone interested.

✧ Family ✧

Does not talk about it. Will either be evasive about her history or outright lie about it if asked. An only child born to parents who didn’t want her, and when it became apparent she had no magic they they cast her out as a Squib. Hadn’t spoken or seen them since, and has no idea whether they're alive or not. Never fitting into the wizarding world or muggle society, she always dreamed of a better life for herself - the life she was supposed to live at Hogwarts.

Struggling to take care of herself after being abandoned by her family, she resorted to petty crime to survive, then more often upon discovering she was rather good at it. At age 15, her first accidental magic outburst involved a chase with authorities after pressing her luck one too many times, resulting in Fig finding her on the streets of London, panicking after she'd suddenly turned a policeman into a chicken. Professor Dad Fig took her in during the summer before term began at Hogwarts.

✧ Patronus ✧

Some associations with crows: gregarious, intelligent, creative problem-solvers, mysterious, deceptive, mischievous, manipulative, intuitive, and adaptable. Symbolic of community and loyalty, change and transformation, magic and the supernatural. Conflicting interpretations as harbingers of death or omens of fate, destiny, and good luck. They never forget a face, and will reward those who help them or may punish those who harm them. I also couldn't resist the connection between crows' habit of stealing and collecting shiny objects, and of course a flock of crows is called a Murder.

✧ Classes ✧

She loves learning magic now that she's got the opportunity. Strives to do well at Hogwarts and wants to impress her professors and peers. Open-minded about magic of all kinds.

Charms is her absolute favorite, the most useful and enjoyable form of magic for her. Defense follows closely, as she's got an innate gift for dueling and developed a bit of an ego about it - especially enjoys teasing Sebastian about kicking his ass. Ever pragmatic, she also knows how important the subject is and wants to add to her repertoire of spells.

It's not her strongest subject naturally, but she loves Potions. She can follow a recipe well and works hard at it. While she finds Garreth's experiments interesting and doesn't mind stealing for him, for her own self-preservation she doesn't ever sit at his station, nor will she risk Sharp's wrath again by stealing from his office. Everyone knows she is Sharp's favorite student by the year's end, though he denies it.

History isn't uninteresting to her - it’s just Professor Binns is too boring for her to stay awake through class.

✧ Personality ✧

😉 Charismatic and persuasive, comes across as highly confident (faking it til she makes it.) She isn't shy about walking up to talk to someone she finds interesting, loves spending time with a small group of friends, and prefers a partner in crime on her adventures. That said, she is quite independent and needs plenty of alone time to think and recharge.

🧠 She prefers efficient, not lazy. She's highly active with her chosen activities and will take the lead naturally, but it has to be worth her while for her to put in the effort. She'll also take nearly any advantage given to her, especially in high-stakes situations.

💁🏻‍♀️ She wishes she were stylish and tidy, but it doesn’t come naturally and she hasn’t got the time (would rather get the extra 10 minutes of sleep in the mornings.) She starts the day looking relatively put-together, but you'll usually see her looking disheveled from running around, waistcoat askew, hair coming loose, boots dirty, possibly a bit banged up from her adventuring. Leaves half-drunk cups of coffee lying around the RoR and laundry on her dormitory floor. Handwriting is atrocious, she uses an enchanted quill to make her essays legible.

😾 Not that grouchy but can't say she's very nice, either. She isn't taking on extra tasks just out of the kindness of her heart - she needs to get paid or receive something else in exchange. Snarky and sarcastic, somewhat selfish, mocks/teases/messes with people (told Zenobia she’d keep her gobstones, then said jk lol, and gave them back.) Anger issues rage blackouts when pushed to her limit. She's got soft spots though - especially for animals/beasts, orphans, and freckles. Will do anything for her closest friends even if she gives them a hard time.

🤔 Generally weighs the risks of what she's getting herself into before acting. Stealthy and strategic, usually likes to silently petrify a few enemies to even the odds before taking on a group. She's prioritizing protecting herself and her friends rather than foolishly charging into unnecessary danger, balancing out her more reckless companions. Again, if one of her loved ones is in danger she won’t hesitate to dive in and help them.

😏 Mischievous, jokes a lot, a bit silly. Likes breaking rules. She's made many a daring escape with a smile on her face, will turn to her mates and laugh together once they've made it out alive. Taunts and goads her opponents in duels to throw them off. While very capable of deep thoughts and feelings, she covers hurt with humor and doesn’t often let it show.

🏃🏻‍♀️Athletic. Fast runner and climber, she regularly outpaces Sebastian “out-of-breath” Sallow on their outings. An evasive and agile fighter, swiftly dodging all over the place before striking. Quick on a broom, joins the Quidditch team in sixth year as Keeper (and acknowledges the irony here.) Has her clumsy moments when she's not paying attention or had too many Butterbeers, accidentally breaking a vase at the bottom of the stairs in the Slytherin common room on more than one occasion.

✧ Extras ✧

Amortentia scents: autumn rain, butterbeer, and smoke

Her scent: green apple and lilac

Bisexual who flirts with everyone, to the point that it's hard to tell when she actually means it. No time to properly court anyone during fifth year but she has many fleeting fancies and won't readily admit to real feelings. All of this inevitably leads to confusion on all sides.

Goes insane for the food at Hogwarts after years of barely scraping by, eating stolen food and scraps. Always snacking to keep her energy up with how much running around she does. If she misses a meal, something is very wrong.

Funny (at least she thinks so) and uses humor as a coping mechanism.

Loves cats. Pets all the cats.

Loves puns and will give a genuine laugh at a particularly good one.

Constantly running late, much to the chagrin of all her friends.

Drinks like a fish and smokes an occasional cigarette. Swears like a sailor.

Likes to dance but isn't very good at it.

Has an academic rivalry with @freddiestheproblemchild’s mc, Freddie Harpis (AU/HCU)

As Sharp says, Wiggenweld doesn't fix everything, so I imagine her gaining quite a few permanent scars over the course of her fifth year. Significant mentions are a cut brow courtesy of Rookwood and some burns on her body from Solomon.

After her hair was partially singed during the battle with Ranrok, she cut it short for a drastic change.

Girl is not doing very well after everything she went through, especially losing Fig. Not sleeping, not eating enough, and prone to thousand-yard stares. She will need time to heal, plus a lot of help from her new chosen family.

✧Future ✧

Ellie is very ambitious and she knows her strengths. She wants to live up to the reputation she's built for herself as a powerful witch, and wants to be known for more than what she went through in her fifth year. Taking time to make a name for herself as a Curse Breaker, she'll spend several years in the field before coming back to Hogwarts as Charms Professor when Ronen retires.

💚 If you have read any of this, I love and appreciate you so much! I have more to say about her but this was already too long so maybe I’ll do a part 2 or something.

✧ Presets ✧

5th Year:

6th Year changes:

#ellie crawford #oc intro post #some duplicate info but I like both templates #incoherent ramblings #yapping #headcanons #oc stuff #brainrot #HLMCOctober2024 #hogwarts legacy oc #character presets

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gumnut-logic · 2 months ago

Text

Thoughts on Tracys

Well, I did dig into my fic folder and did find the ‘Thoughts on Tracy brothers’ fic and yeah, I left it at just Scott. Sorry. Must see if I can continue that one at some point now that I even know it exists.

But I did find something else. This is me in early 2020, before Covid hit, fortunately, as I had an infected foot at the time and could barely walk.

-o-o-o-

I was re-reading part of my Kermadec fic and encountered the bit where Scott comes across the hot spring and it occurred to me the difference between Scott and Virgil as to how they interpret their environment. This led me to thinking about characterisation and point of view and how you write a character to sound like themselves. Then, because I’m lying idle around the house with a mild headache and a bung foot, I pondered how each of the five brothers might interpret the same scene. I sat their idly constructing scenes in my head and how this might illustrate how a character thinks.

So, now because I’m still sitting around the house with a mild headache and a bung foot, I thought I’d give this exercise a go...cos actually writing one of my many wips would be far too logical ::headdesk::

Anyways, five brothers, same beach, same time of day. Let’s see if I can make them sound like themselves....and not end up writing another wip :D Note: these scenes are separate and unrelated to each other...just flotsam my brain threw up. Guess which brother is which?

-o-o-o-

His running shoes hit the sand hard, gouging holes in the pristine surface. The air was still and clear, the ocean quiet, his breathing drowning out the sound of the waves. This was his third lap, but his first step onto this beach. He usually avoided this patch of sand because it was Virgil’s favourite and often the place his brother came to be alone. But today was a day that wouldn’t see Virgil outside the villa. Not today, not tomorrow, not for some time at all.

His breathing lost its regular pace and he had to force himself to concentrate harder on his rhythm.

His feet hit the sand and he kept on running.

-o-o-o-

There were times being a brother of the commander of this outfit really sucked.

One foot after the other. Scott may feel exuberant at this time of the morning, but honestly, this time should not exist.

He was only awake because the smart ass had called a drill. God. He ran a hand through his hair and guzzled the coffee that was automatically poured into his face.

He swore Scott did it because of his comment about Thunderbird One’s erotic symbolism yesterday. But hey, he was the one who had compared Two to a pregnant turtle.

Turtles lay eggs, you idiot.

But that hadn’t been enough, so he’d resorted to a dick joke.

And had been dragged out of bed at 5am.

Ergh.

His staggering finally led him to the beach and the moment he stepped onto the sand, the breeze caught him and brushed away his frown.

A sigh fell from his lips and he closed his eyes.

The sounds of the ocean caressed his ears and washed away the aggravation. The calm seeped into his bones and his shoulders dropped.

But he kept his grip on his mug of coffee.

Another sip.

Another grateful sigh.

And a plan began to form.

-o-o-o-

Before he knew it the sun was peeking over the edge of the planet and the stars were fading.

His butt and back were damp from lying on the sand.

There was dry seaweed in his hair.

He reached up and untangled the mess, frowning as it caught and pulled. Ow.

It wasn’t often he used a beach for stargazing, but he hadn’t had the energy to climb the stairs to the observatory and to be honest, he wasn’t looking for a specific event, more just comfort in the familiar.

He had come out here in the early hours, his circadian rhythm still slightly off and done his best to connect with what he loved.

He had forgotten the inconveniences of sand, mosquitoes and was that a crab?

He shifted his leg out of reach and clambered to his feet.

The sun flashed everything gold, including him.

A sigh and he turned to walk back to the house.

-o-o-o-

One of the advantages of living on your own secret tropical island is that he could run around in whatever clothes he wanted and not have to worry about what the public might think.

A pair of flip flops and his swimwear, mostly because it was just after his morning laps. Specimen bags in hand, he headed down to the beach to check on the morning’s finds.

The ocean was still puking up stuff from the storm that passed to the south of the Island two weeks ago and he was making sure to check the beaches every morning to see what treasures might surface. One of the things about cyclones is that they churned the ocean as much as the land and often interesting things appeared with the tide as a result.

Fortunately the storm hadn’t actually hit the Island itself and the beach was on the protected side, otherwise there may have been no beach left to comb. This time the conditions were perfect and he wasn’t going to miss out on the opportunity.

Clambering around the Island in flip flops would probably earn him several frowns from several quarters, but to be honest he didn’t care.

From the moment his feet hit the sand, he was discovering and cataloguing. Three different types of sponge all seen before. A nasty chunk of the rare kelp from that isolated patch to the south, damn. An array of shells of which one he was unable to identify. He grabbed that one for identification purposes and one other simply because it was pretty and he knew a brother who might like it.

He found the waves tossing about a large chunk of broken coral and he swore. Damn. Cyclones were nasty to reefs and they took eons to repair.

The worst find was a relatively small mola mola. The young sunfish looked like it had been caught up in an argument between the surf and the volcanic rocks of the island.

He carefully picked it up and placed it in a bag, commemorative words for a life lost passing through his mind as he sealed it tight. Size and details would be sent to the NZ DoC south of their island for research purposes.

Reaching the end of the beach he turned back and trailed his feet in the water. A glance at the rising sun and he headed back.

-o-o-o-

He bounded onto the beach and kicked the sand with his foot. This was so unfair! Why couldn’t he do what everyone else was doing?

He stomped his feet into the sand and took some satisfaction in the deep divots his feet left behind.

The water was whispering as if to herald the rise of the sun.

He didn’t like it.

It mocked him.

Why? Why? Why?

The question bounced around his head and just fuelled his anger.

There was a roar and the island shook as behind him Thunderbird One leapt into the air. Further in the distance he heard the deeper rumble as Two ignited her rear thrusters and a moment later the great green ‘bird appeared over the palm trees and shot off into the distance, Thunderbird One darting down to escort her.

Both were lit up by the sun.

His heart was caught between pride at the sight, and the anger that he wasn’t with them.

As they disappeared in the sunrise, he glared after them.

-o-o-o-

Okay, that exercise did not go exactly the way I had planned, but I hope you enjoyed these little snippets. I hope you can tell which bro is which. I haven’t really gone to any effort to hide them and I’m kinda hoping it is obvious. Maybe take note of the bits of information that give it away?

Or which bros I’m better at writing, maybe :D

Fun to write. I hope they are fun to read.

::hugs you all::

Nutty

(Yeah, well, my brain is weird, I can’t help myself)

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #nuttyfic

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the-coffee-fandom · 9 months ago

Text

❀。• *₊°。 ❀° 。。° ❀ 。° ₊ * •。❀

Hanahaki Hours

❀。• *₊°。 ❀° 。。° ❀ 。° ₊ * •。❀

Calendar by @the-coffee-fandom and inspired and encouraged by @boldlyanxious. Day Eight inspired by and dedicated to @tree-reads.

Welcome back to Hanahaki Hours! Hosted in the month known for its showers bringing flowers: May!

A week dedicated to a popular trope, Hanahaki Disease, which came along August 9th, 2008. It's a fictional disease in which a character coughs up flowers which grow inside them from unrequited love (or other creative interpretation).

How you use the prompts is up to your own creative interpretation! You can use the quotes, flowers, word, or all of them! Do one day, do the entire week, do a poem, a piece of art, drabbles and incorrect quotes, or even just a quick doodle. Have fun with it!

Need inspiration? Don't feel like researching flowers? Flower Symbolism has been premade! Slightly different from last years! Click here for the full list or click here for a master list if you only want one specific flower!

Open to any fandom, ship, pairing, or otherwise to use!

Tags for Tumblr:

#Hanahaki Hours 2024 #Hanahaki Hours

Tags for Ao3:

Hanahaki Hours 2024 Hanahaki Hours

the-coffee-fandom's Hanahaki Hours

Ao3 Collection:

https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Flower_Hours

Tag @the-coffee-fandom and reblog for others to see too! I will reblog any I'm tagged in!

Please feel free to reach out to @the-coffee-fandom however you'd like if you have any questions! Especially if you need more information on flowers.

Remember that if the days don't match your schedule, you can do these at any time! Collection stays open and prompts are always available!

Written out prompts below the cut!

May 7th:

Quote: "We don't all have happy endings."

Flower: Poppy

Word: Revival

May 8th:

Quote: "I'd like to stay here. With you."

Flower: Daisy

Word: Pastel

May 9th:

Quote: "Don't you think it's time to stop?"

Flower: Forget Me Not

Word: Fade

May 10th:

Quote: "They're my home."

Flower: Sage

Word: Keep

May 11th:

Quote: "If you leave now... that's it, you know."

Flower: Wolf's Bane

Word: Verse

May 12th:

Quote: "It's morning."

Flower: Avens

Word: Ice

May 13th:

Quote: "Cut it."

Flower: Peony

Word: Catch

Substitutes:

Quote 1: "I've never seen anything as beautiful as your eyes."

Quote 2: "I want to hear pretty lies."

Flower 1: Orchid

Flower 2: Narcissus

Word 1: Venom

Word 2: Arrival

Previous Calendars:

2023

#hanahaki disease #hanahaki hours #hanahaki hours 2024 #hanahaki #flowers #flower symbolism #any fandom #maribat #maribat hanahaki #I've had this calendar done since January but I was just too lazy to do the symbolism #Time to get it out last minute #As usual

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magpod-confessions · 7 months ago

Note

the thing about literary analysis and media criticism is that everything is fair game AND sometimes things aren't that deep. someone could write an impassioned , thoughtful meta about Needles but he's still gonna be a Funny Little Guy, horrible edition. but: maybe the meta writer wants to explore body horror vs bodily autonomy and the role of piercings in individual queer empowerment narratives, and they give it some thought and say 'this is a way Needles can be read.' and that's legit!

there's also a difference between listening to magnus like it's a story and listening to magnus like it's a puzzle. it's really apparent in how much tmagp meta reads like a continuation of the ARG: people making spreadsheets and notes and figurative (perhaps literal?) red string boards (which is also a thing people liked to do while tma was airing, too, i'm not trying to point fingers at protocol in particular). the coffee/tea people say that the oiar crew's hot beverage of choice symbolises their ties to either protocol-verse or archives-verse, but what a lot of them seem to mean is not that coffee/tea are symbols, but that they're *clues.* (personally I don't think it's either, but am prepared to be wrong about this.) because tmagp is still so new, too, it's harder to understand if/how it's operating on an overarching thematic level; we can't see the forest because the trees are still saplings.

when people say things like "the fears are capitalism," I mean. the fears are a pretty good allegory for the systems of power and oppression that, in their avarice, seek endless and complete consumption of the very resources (people) that keep them alive. the web is a great image for the inconceivably complex systems that surround and entrap us, whether we're a fly or a society. at the same time, the fears/the fear entity is literally an extradimensional force beyond human comprehension that must feed off the terror of other living beings and seeks to expand its reach across the multiverse. the fears are also scary because being trapped in a cave is scary, and the endless void of space is scary, and clowns are scary, y'know?

so I think my hot take is that critical engagement with media and textual analysis and interpretation and meta of all kinds is fun and rewarding, but that while stories generally have literal meanings (they've got a plot, they've got characters, things occur), they don't tend to produce clean solutions. if the magnus archives were two sentences long ("exploitation is bad and we are probably mostly doomed. you should still try I guess, and also care about people," for example) it would be a lot less memorable!

#magpod #tmagp #the magnus protocol #magpod confession

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bagopucks · 2 years ago

Text

M. Marner - The Best Recovery

✄————————————

Mitch Marner x Reader

Requested ✨

Word Count: 3.5k

Warning(s): I don’t think it’s a warning, but the reader has ADHD and Autism. Reader is overwhelmed, and nonverbal as a result.

I left this one vague in certain areas for all types to interpret and see through their own eyes! If that makes sense. I tried to make it personal to the request, but also loose enough for others with these two disorders to see themselves in as well!

—————————————

ADHD and Autism is like cold and hot. Sweet and sour. Excited and bored. Energetic and tired.

Having those two disorders, is something that can cause great deals of mental exhaustion.

I never knew for sure what it was, which disorder was taking the lead or which was bothering me on a particular day. I hated it. I especially hated it, on the days I had to go into work, and my brain was practically arguing with itself. One half wanted to take a new road and see new sights, but the other part of me wanted to keep things the same knowing it was efficient. My mind argued over playing music or basking in silence. Changing my sheets or keeping the same ones, trying new clothes and remaining secure in knowing the old ones worked.

I faced many challenges with those two disorders. Some worse than others. Like moving away from home and into my first apartment. Meeting people at work for the first time, and having to meet new ones when people were hired. Opening up in social atmospheres when people didn’t understand why I chose not to. And meeting my boyfriend.

Mitch was something else, and with him, my mind could never make a decision.

When we met, impulse control decided to fly out the window. He paid for my coffee at a diner, and I had gone to thank him, only to end up at a table with him for an hour. He was sweet. He was really sweet. He had beautiful eyes, and a light soul. He had a few flaws. A little too much energy for my taste, and maybe a little too fidgety.

Aside from those factors, he had gotten my phone number.

On our first date, I struggled between choosing a blue or white dress to wear. The symbolisms of both colors had me uncertain. In the end, I chose red, because it brought out my complexion nicely.

It was a simple dinner, but I found myself interviewing Mitch like he was trying to get a job. There were many pros, and a handful of cons. It stressed me out that certain words I used, he did not understand. I also hated the way he would clench his hands into fists every so often. I learned later, it was a nervous habit of his. I also learned, that he’d done it so much on that date, because I intimidated him immensely.

Mitch told me of his dog, which I was iffy on, and in love with at the same time. He ran his hands through his hair a few times, displacing the brown locks with each pass of his hand. He told me of his career and his friends. Then we had gone out for dessert. Something as simple as ice cream, but I struggled to make a decision. When I’d asked him, “can I get two?” He looked at me with a smile and a questioning expression, but nodded nonetheless.

I had to explain to him, that I wanted to try something new, but needed a backup plan if it backfired. So the second flavor was my go-to. My favorite one. It was on that date that I realized I didn’t have a backup plan if whatever Mitch was to me went south.

That frightened me away from him for a while. He tried to reach out, so much so that I hated how sporadic his texts could be. I hated that he couldn’t just choose one time of day to be a bother. It was only when my coworker spotted the messages, and helped talk me into it, that I decided to go on another date with him.

Mitch might have been a little lacking in common sense, but he wasn’t a complete lost cause. He often commented things like, “you’re weird,” or “that’s different,” when it came to my behaviors. Those words were always spoken with giggles and smiles, so I never took them to heart. But I knew he was right, and I knew he knew I was different. But for once, he made me feel like ‘different’ didn’t have to be a bad thing.

Mitch and I had odd ways of getting to know each other. I asked him endless strict questions, ones that often branched off whatever the answer was to a previous question. And Mitch often listened. He didn’t have to ask as many questions as I did, because he learned I always explained things in depth or I did things with no reason at all. He liked to call me, “unpredictably predictable.”

It took me some time to warm up to the idea of dating, but once we got together, I saw it through.

Mitch was a guy who liked to live life in the fast lane, but I learned that he often changed those lanes for me. He was willing to slow down and wait when I needed him to.

I attended a few of his hockey games. Depending on which disorder was more prominent those nights, I’d be down by the glass, or in a personal suite. I met his team on a few occasions, but I sometimes struggled to hold conversations with them.

Too many people would want to hold too many conversations, and I’d be in the midst of talking to one, only to derail myself and get lost on a sidetrack, and I’d completely forget what was going on.

I usually found Mitch in those situations, and one instance had been the first time where he realized I tended to just.. not speak, when I was overwhelmed. There was something so safe and secure about not engaging, that I had a habit of sinking into those nonverbal tendencies when there was a lot going on around me, or in my head.

When we moved in together, we experienced a lot of that. The actual moving in process had gone surprisingly smoothly. Despite all the change being such a stressor, I had so much excitement inside, that I managed to remain talkative enough to help Mitch get my things where I wanted them. It was the time after I was officially in, that tended to be difficult. I had to get used to a place that wasn’t my own, and didn’t feel like my own for the longest time. I avoided the throw pillows on the couch because the texture was horrid. I didn’t like the fact that I could see dog hair on things at times, and I certainly hated the way he had his towels organized.

There were days Mitch would come home from games and practices, only to find me on my love seat in the corner, a pair of headphones in staring off into space while I had one of his athletic sweatshirts on. One of which I always enjoyed pulling my knees up into, and hugging them while the arm sleeves hung loosely and unoccupied by my sides.

The first few times it happened, Mitch would think nothing of it, pop the earbuds out of my ears, and start talking about his day. Sometimes it aggravated me, and once it even stressed me out enough to snap at him.

Over time, he learned that it was easier to gesture for me to scoot over so he could squeeze his body in beside me. I would be the first to initiate contact if I wanted it. If not, we would sit in silence until I shared an earbud with him, or until I wanted to talk.

It quickly became a routine between us. Something Mitch also learned that I enjoyed. Routines. On the days he came home and I was talkative and excited, we could live and love smoothly. On other days, we learned how to make things work.

Mitch had an off day after winning the game his team played the night before. It was always a weird occurrence when I had to leave him in the mornings, but I’d done fairly well at adjusting to his horribly unorganized hockey schedule. I never would have expected exposure to so much change, to be so helpful for me. But it truly was.

I had bid my lover goodbye that morning with a smile and a hand through his hair as I kissed his cheek. He flashed his pretty teeth at me, and promised to text on my lunch break, unless I wanted to reach out sooner.

As it turned out, I never reached out before then. And I didn’t answer his messages when he reached out during my lunch hour.

People had been laid off at my workplace. Something that sadly happened in many places sometimes. Losing coworkers and gaining a new workload wasn’t necessarily something I was thrilled about. It meant I’d have to rearrange my whole schedule and the way I handled my work. It meant I’d have to redistribute my work hours so I could fit all of my additional projects in a normal day and successfully finish it.

In short, it meant everything had to change.

Only this time, there was nothing to be excited about.

I played with my hair all day, I lost focus, I blankly stared, I ignored people and any kind advances of small talk. I even ignored Mitch.

I stayed at work well past the time I was scheduled to clock out. I didn’t expect extra pay, I just wanted to efficiently reconstruct my schedule. I only clocked out to go home, after I had that sorted. Which was four hours after five. The end of my usual work day.

I’d only texted Mitch once when he asked if I was okay around six. I told him, ‘I’m fine.’

My stare was blank but my mind was running rampant all the way out of the office and back to our shared home. I ignored anybody and everybody, in the lobby, in the elevator, in the hall. Inevitably, I even ignored Zeus when I stepped through the front door of our modern home.

The poor lab was so excited to see me, but I couldn’t have been bothered to pet him. I kicked my shoes off and lined them up against the edge of the shoe mat by the door. I made sure to lock it before I stepped away.

“Babe?” Mitch’s footsteps fell on selectively deaf ears. I didn’t want to be in his presence. I just wanted to be alone. I slipped down the hall and into the kitchen to escape him, and I thought it had worked when I heard his movement stop.

“Babe?” He repeated. My shoulders fell as he peeked into the kitchen. My intense stare was a telltale sign of my inner turmoil. He looked unfazed. He also looked like he’d just gotten out of bed. His hair was a hot mess, and his eyes had that dazed sort of look that a child has when they’re woken up from the nap of a lifetime. His sleep schedule was absolute shit anyway. That’s what happens when you drink too many energy drinks through the day.

“Hey. Did they have you on overtime tonight?” He smiled at me. I couldn’t answer. I physically couldn’t force myself to open my mouth. I hated that I did this to him.

“Okay.. I can do this too.” Mitch adapted quickly to the silence. “I figured it was one of those nights.” He voiced as he walked across the kitchen, opening my snack cabinet. “You always text me back, it’s pointless to have a planned hour to text if you’re not going to text.” He wasn’t insulting me, he was restating sentences I said once. Reasons I gave for why I always responded to him. He was backing up his theory on why I’d had a bad day.

Mitch pulled out a bag of chips and pushed the cabinet shut before he made his way over to the fridge. He pulled out one of my favorite cold drinks, and went about the kitchen grabbing a few other options to snack on. He knew me so well, I almost thought it unfair.

“Will you come lay in bed with me?” His question was asked with a set of puppy eyes I had to roll my own eyes at. But I gave in nonetheless.

Mitch led me back to our room, and I was surprised to find the dark area lit up with the orange glow from our bedside lamp. My weighted blanket was already laid out on my side, and one of my favorite books was on the nightstand.

“I know you don’t want to talk, and that’s fine,” Mitch made his way around the bed to set the snacks on my nightstand, as well as the drink he grabbed. “But was it a really bad night, or just.. just a little overwhelming?”

He remained tentative, only pursing his lips and letting out a sigh when I stared him down.

“Not even gonna give me a nod?” He pried with a hopeful smile. I decided I was done with the eye contact too, my gaze met the floor. “Alright. Why don’t you just come lay down then.” He pulled back the weighted blanket, and I met him on my side of the bed. I reached for Mitch’s hand as I climbed into bed, and he held mine, keeping me steady as I got in. I was quick to break the contact after I decided I no longer needed it.

Mitch slipped his way back around to his own side of the bed, and climbed in next to me. He leaned over the edge of the bed, and his actions caught my attention momentarily.

“Zeus wants up.” Mitch looked back to me for approval. I gave a curt nod.

Soon enough, I heard him tapping his thigh, and the whole bed shake when the big dog hopped up. Zeus tried to quickly step over Mitch to get to me, but my lover was swift in tucking a finger beneath the dog’s collar to stop him.

I never minded Zeus cuddles on bad days. Well sometimes I did. But I never enjoyed him in my face. Mitch only let the dog go once Zeus settled. I slowly shifted to lay down, and the lab found his place by my feet, his head rested on top of my ankles.

“Good boy.” Mitch praised before he slipped his phone from his pocket. He checked the time, then set the device on his own nightstand.

I rolled onto my side and grabbed my book, opening to the page I had marked. I felt my weighted blanket shift, only to realize Mitch was pulling it up over my body. So caring. So gentle. I’d watched him hit guys and cross check them. I’d watched him let teammates’ bodies crash into him for pregame rituals. Mitch was such a rambunctious guy, that I sometimes liked to playfully question if he had an alter ego at home.

I don’t know how long I laid there, reading and flipping through pages. What I did know, was that my lover had not once left my side. Nor did he make any noise. He had the tv on, playing old episodes of Friends, but the sound was muted and the captions were on.

I slowly rested my book on the bedside table, turning on my back to peek at the tv before I looked up at Mitch. I sighed. Before I wanted to be left alone. Now, I wanted him.

I shimmied to his side and carefully rested my head in his lap. Mitch looked down at me, a smile slow to form on his lips. His hands found my hair, gently carding through and scratching at my scalp.

My eyes focused on the tv, one of my hands tucked up close to my chest while the other rested on Mitch’s leg.

“Can I lay down with you?” His soft voice earned a nod from me. I lifted my head and moved away while he pulled his shirt off and slipped beneath the weighted blanket with me. Our bodies faced one another, and he was hesitant at first to reach for me. So I instead, reached for him.

I tucked myself into Mitch’s chest, and he wrapped an arm around me. I felt his chest heave with a sigh, and I rested one of my hands there to feel his heartbeat. He pressed kisses to my head and temple, gently ran his hand up and down my back.

Sometimes life could be overwhelming, but one thing I never minded being overwhelmed by was Mitch. He wasn’t like a hurricane, or some devastating storm. No, he was the ocean, coming in waves. Some harsher than others, but if one knew how to face those waves, and surf them, they could stay afloat.

I had Mitch figured out like an intricate word problem. I knew every variable and obstacle, and every possible solution. I got used to his predictable behaviors, and learned to cope with the unpredictable ones. I was always thankful that Mitch was such an open book when it came to anything. His communication helped me and our relationship.

“I know you had a really bad day.. and just- just let me know if you don’t want me to talk..” he paused, and gave me enough time to protest. I didn’t. The sound of his voice was soothing.

“You’re doing so good, you know that? Every day you’re conquering something new, and I am so proud of you. I know it seems big, but right now it’s just a bump in the road. Whatever you’re going through.” His words of encouragement fell from his lips in faint whispers. I buried my head further into Mitch’s chest. His embrace tightened around me.

“And I’m always here. Whenever you’re ready to talk, I’m ready to listen.” Mitch carded his hand through my hair once again. “I love the sound of your voice.” I could hear the coaxing tone- the smirk on his lips, the way he tried subtly to get me to open up.

It almost worked.

“I love your laugh too.” He pressed a kiss to my head once more. His hand left my hair, and I soon felt it tickle my side. I gasped and reached down to swat his hand away.

“No.”

When I looked up toward him, I could tell that singular word lit him up like a Christmas tree.

So Mitch brought his hand back to my side, and I wasn’t swift enough to push him away before he earned a quiet giggle from my lips. An involuntary giggle. But it did distract me from my own brooding. I couldn’t decide if I was mad at him for disrespecting my boundary, or mad that he knew me well enough to test those limits because sometimes it worked.

“Yeah.. that laugh right there.” Mitch winced when I grabbed his hand, perhaps a bit harsher than I meant to. I pushed his hand away and turned back over, simply to escape his contagious happiness.

He didn’t let me go very easily. He was quick to shimmy his body up against my own, his arm wrapping around my hip again. I tensed in anticipation.

“I’m done.. I’m done. I promise.” I nodded very slowly, and eventually melted into his embrace.

Sometimes I had trouble communicating it, but Mitch was easily my favorite person to be with. My favorite person, period.

I basked in our silence and the occasional sound of Mitch’s soft giggles. I assumed he was laughing at the tv, but my lack of knowing for sure, had me turning in his arms and onto my back. I just had to know what it was. Sure enough, I found his eyes glued to the screen. I rested my hands by his own on my stomach, and gently hooked my fingers beneath the rubber wristband he wore. I ran my thumbs against it and felt the smoothness on one side, likewise the divots of words on the outside.

My eyes settled on the tv, and when Mitch caught on, he reached for the remote to unmute it, but still kept the volume quiet enough to not bother me. Zeus seemed to have enough of all the moving and shifting, as he hopped onto the floor and curled up in his own bed near the corner of the room. The dog bed poor Zeus had to be evicted to when I moved in.

I heard Mitch yawn, and it only took moments before my body returned the gesture. He smiled at me.

“I love you.” Mitch pressed one last kiss to the corner of my lips, then pulled away. I didn’t have to respond. We’d been through this enough times for him to know I felt the same.

I always knew he could tell, because there was a sincere look of fondness that followed the hopefulness after he spoke. He was never disappointed on nights when I didn’t say it back. Instead he was simply happy to know I heard him. To know I felt loved.

Nevertheless, I liked to try. I felt he always deserved that after being so patient and loving.

I leaned forward and pressed a hand to his chest. I opened my mouth to say the words, but my breath fell short.

“It’s okay.” Mitch met me halfway, his gaze dropped to my lips as his nose bumped mine. He pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, one that was soft and smooth. One that had me melting into his embrace as he rolled onto his back and slipped an arm beneath me. I curled into his side and rested my head on his chest. Seconds, minutes, a few episodes of Friends passed, before my breathing slowed and my consciousness escaped me. The last thing I heard before I fell asleep, was the faint sound of Chandler’s sarcastic laughter, and Mitch whispering another,

“I love you.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

#nhl imagine #nhl x reader #mitch marner imagine #mitch marner x reader #mitch marner #nhl hockey

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cpunkwitch · 7 months ago

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do you have any witchy recommendations for newbie who's mostly in bed? stuff to look into or do when spoons allow :0

Yes yes (also we love the lil wooper)

There's a bunch of things you can do that are low effort and spoon saving, and I have all kinds of tips for beginner witches.

There's a lot of "tips for baby witches" posts out there but pretty much none of them have disabled folk in mind

I'm more than happy to write a post if people would like.

But as for things you can do from bed for now

Chants, verbal spells. You can say these in your head, it doesn't have to be out loud, you know you've said it and that's enough. Just about anything with intention can be a spell of you want, such as affirmations. It doesn't have to rhyme, you can simply state that "today will be good, my pain will be less" and you've casted a verbal spell.

Something as simple as tea or coffee can be a potion, taking a sip with an intention in mind, stirring one way or the other with your intent in mind and even steeping, are all acts you can do to that are a bit witchy. (I can create a whole seperate post on this subject alone)

If you're able, placing sigils (or runes if you prefer) on your walls nearby can help too. I have 3 next to my bed for healing, protection and cleansing, I first added sigils around my room when we moved in and I'd gotten the flu. Any symbols you feel are significant can work so long as you put your intent behind them

Cards. I actually do all my tarot from bed, if I can get myself to sit up then I can use the surface to cut the deck and help me shuffle before laying them out. It doesn't have to be tarot specifically, you can write or draw on a set of playing cards to have anything on them you'd like, from symbols to spells. You can even use any variant of the cards against humanity game if you have one, or uno if you want. Any cards work if you would like.

Wearing things like certain colours, symbols, accessories etc can be witchy too. Each colour right to the shade has a different meaning, corresponding intention and use. Symbols like animals, shapes, words and other graphics can have meaning as well. I often wear jewelry for different intentions. My name necklace I wear for Loki, I often wear dark shades (because that's what we have and) because I find them calming and comforting as well as deterring. Black is best for banishment and protection for example.

If scents aren't bothersome, you can light a candle as long as you keep fire safety in mind, or incense or you could use different oils or creams etc. essential oils can be put of tissue and placed in different spots for a desired effect, wearing perfume or creams etc can help too.

Just like tarot being primarily about interpretation, witchcraft is about intention. Both are left up to you on how you go about it.

Just about anything can be witchy if you do your research.

#disabled witch #witchcraft #spoonie witch #witches #witchblr #witch community #witchcraft tips #cripple witch #disability blogging #sparrow posting #cpunk #physically disabled #cripplepunk #physical disability #cpunk blog #cpunk witch #answered askers

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eponatheempath · 29 days ago

Text

Tarot: Energy for 2025

Hi everyone, this is my first tarot post. I’m a bit nervous and here we go.

Name of tarot deck

Ethereal Visions Illuminated Tarot Deck

While shuffling as I was asking myself, “What is the energy for 2025 next year? “ This is the card that flew off my deck.

Six of Wands: Authority, Power, Protection, Honor, Faithful/loyal, and Defender.

Interpretation

In the image, we recognize a man wearing leaves on his head like a flower crown which a woman would wear, which happens to be circling his wand. He probably symbolizes power, authority, maybe magic, and protection. And as we see the horse giving the man a ride, in the background we see wands on the background as the man was holding the wand on his hand. The wands in the background reminds me of a battlefield in the middle of the war or the aftermath after the war ended.

The energy for 2025 is that we humans will be letting go or purge old energies and things that no longer serve us anymore. Letting go is a technique that is used in doing shadow work and it works by letting go of the past and focus on the present moment. In mindfulness it’s scientifically proven to help let go of anything that worries you or traumatizes you. The point of mindfulness is to allow yourself to feel those emotions. Mindfulness or the letting go technique is not for everyone, however it can be helpful for many people.

The energy for 2025 focus is letting go or purging old energies and baggage’s we all will leave behind in 2024. I understand we all are processing the pandemic in 2020 or with time going by fast. Don’t let time or the pandemic hinder you from living your life. Incorporate shadow work or mindfulness into your spiritual practices or routine for your mental health to detox negative energies.

Some great ways to do shadow work or let go is journaling, doing divination including tarot or rune reading, or something simple as sipping cup of coffee with no distractions pondering life while looking at the beauty of nature from the indoors.

Associations with the card: Scorpio and Capricorn, Pluto, Saturn, 8th house.

If you come this far, thank you for reading my first tarot post.

#tarot reading #tarot cards #astrology

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cosmic-glow · 1 year ago

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Could you write some headcannons about being negan‘s daughter?😄

Notes: I'm terribly sorry it took me so long to write this, but I hope you still enjoy it, good reading.

Warnings: fem!reader; a little angst; Negan being a loving, playful and protective father; SFW.

You are a princess, and that is exactly what you are called among saviors.

Negan is a very affectionate father, with his sarcastic and crazy way.

He could never actually say "no" to you, since you were little he spoiled you, you are his little princess.

He's very protective of you, always has been, but after the fall and your mother's death he became even more so.

Would teach you how to handle weapons and kick anyone's ass that bothered you.

You don't like to remember it but you know that even if he never said it, you were the one who kept him rational and firm to follow after your mother's death, it was a very difficult time for both of you.

And that's one more reason why he's so protective, he can't lose you too.

Negan is really good at reverse psychology and emotion interpretation and all that, so it's hard for you to hide anything from him.

Trust me girl, even when you think you haven't let anything slip he'll have asked at least 3 trusted saviors to make sure you don't get hurt going through with it.

Sometimes when he's alone in the office you go up to him just to gossip about something going on at the sanctuary, like two mean girls talking.

Depending on your age he would joke that you should date Carl or Daryl, just to piss you off. "You could symbolize peace between the groups! We would have a ceremony at the sanctuary, it would be beautiful, dear!"- his eyes glistening with sarcasm.

Oh wait, do you like girls? You're still not free from his teasing, even if you're asexual he'll find a way to annoy you with it.

But actually the idea of someone with you really makes him uncomfortable. I mean he's ok with the idea of you dating, but first he has to scare the person a little bit to doesn't dare hurt you.

When you were little he hummed you to sleep.

He'd let you makeup him, take you to soccer or baseball practice, watch the recitals, the plays, and he was always so proud of you.

But Negan is also the type of dad who would tease you a lot, making silly pranks, jokes and always taking the conversation to the more comical side. The kind who would rather see you sulk than miss the joke.

You know that parent whose child slips and falls and the dad laughs first and then helps? So, is Negan.

As soon as he saw you for the first time and held you in his arms he knew he was more than ready to give you the world if that's what you needed.

Negan made a "list of possible gifts" the Saviors could find to bring you, but you don't know it.

If you're feeling too superior in front of others, he'll embarrass you by saying something like, "Oh, there you are, daddy's big baby!" or "come on, my pretty princess, we're done here!", anything like that just to put you back in your place. After all (for now) he's the boss.

He would talk to you about "business", about how he wants you to fill in for him if something happens, what actions you should take, how you shouldn't truly trust anyone, never bow your head to anyone, and how even though you have to be stern and impetuous at many times, you must never lose your humanity, otherwise all will be lost.

You go on missions, but never alone to places he hasn't been, in fact most of the time you're accompanied, even if you don't realize it.

He knows you're more than capable of defending yourself, he's trained you to, but he still prefers to be on the safe side because he cares about you.

After all, you are his little princess<3

Sorry for any typos;

Buy me a coffee?

Masterlist;

Drabbles Game

#twd headcanon #twd imagine #twd headcanons #twd oneshot #twd drabble #twd fanfic #twd x reader #negan x reader #negan twd #negan oneshot #negan imagine #negan headcanons #negan headcanon #negan fanfic #negan drabble #negan fic #negan smith #negan smith x reader #explore

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ohithankyou · 2 months ago

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So I was thinking. I never understood why they broke up Buck and Ali. She was nice, she seemed a good fit, and outside of one superbly acted teary scene by Oliver, it was never really used for angst.

But then I realised, assuming they had some sort of plan of where they were taking Buck in season 3, they needed Buck to be single so he'd feel so alone once Bobby took him off the team. So Ali had to go.

And I do think it's the same with Tommy. They want Buck all alone, so Tommy had to go.

hii! thank you for sharing your insight! i find it so interesting to see how people interpret the relationship arcs/storylines. i will say, i have to disagree re: buck and ali’s relationship and why it possibly ended/parallels to tommy.

of course we don’t know the exact line of thinking (or maybe it’s out there and i’m unaware) but i don’t think the driving force for the writers breaking buck and ali up was so that buck would be alone. maybe it could’ve been a small factor but really, i think it came down to the writers not wanting to settle buck in a relationship at that point (which makes sense because it was season two).

yeah, ali was nice and there was potential but we really didn’t get to see that potential because buck and ali met up for coffee at the end of “buck, actually” (2x08) and that moment is mostly montaged) and then the next time we saw her again was in 2x18—which is the same episode they breakup. so, not much development on that front or even us seeing them together as a couple/unit. so i can’t quite see that impact of removing ali so buck could be isolated, yk?

and, again, i don’t think the writer’s necessarily wanted to develop it more than that because 1) the relationship, in my opinion, was more-so meant to symbolize that buck could move past abby, that there was someone else out there for him (for both buck and the audience) rather than something long term. 2) because it would be, by the nature of the show, too early to put buck in another serious relationship so soon after his relationship with abby AND also too early in the context of it only being season two/three.

with buck and tommy though, i could see that they broke them up because they want buck to be isolated again for a bit (don’t know why but sure. it would be more exciting to see buck have a shoulder to lean on imo, but anyway). i could see that because they really established tommy being there for buck just the episode before (and outside of that episode as well) and therefore, from a narrative standpoint, his absence would be more greatly felt by buck and the audience in buck’s time of need.

and i know you didn’t reference this so this is just me yapping in general, but buck and ali’s breakup was very final narratively because the reality of being with a freighter hit her and she could not do that (which completely understandable). and as i’ve said a million times about now, buck and tommy’s breakup did not feel like an end but like something that only opened up more doors.

anyway, sorry how long this got lmaoo. but thank you for sharing your interpretation with me 🫶

#my asks

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frangipanilove · 3 months ago

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Hello, I’ve asked this question to a few TD theorists before and was wondering your thoughts. I still don’t feel like I’ve received a solid answer on this it seems to be overlooked by most of you. I don’t mean this to be an insult but I do think it’s particularly important. Emily appears to be in LA and we know Season 3 is filming and has been for a month now. She posts almost everyday on social media mostly Instagram stories. She tags LA places she is at daily such as concert venues, restaurants, coffee shops. It’s also obvious when she is filming at her place in LA she films in the same spots and it’s easily identifiable for anyone who looks at her daily posts. I know Emily was at a Manchester and French con but so were many other actors that are dead or aren’t on any of the other spinoffs. She was also only there for about a week or so. She even has a concert scheduled in LA tomorrow. I guess my question is how can we continue to ignore Emily’s whereabouts? She isn’t in Europe when they are filming for a show we are saying she’s going to be on. Symbolism in a show means nothing when the person we need to be filming is not filming.

Hi friend! I just want you to know I don’t take your question as an insult, it’s a perfectly valid thing to ask. And right off the bat, I doubt I’m going to have an answer for you that is more satisfactory than the ones you’ve received in the past, and I’m sorry about that.

Being in TD definitely does have an element of blind faith to it, there’s no way around that. When I place such high emphasis on the symbolism of the show, it’s because I really do interpret it as a story of Beth’s resurrection. Having said that, the exact details of when/where/how are almost impossible to decipher. We’ve been wrong in the past and will probably be wrong again, in a variety of different ways.

In previous asks, I’ve talked about how the TV industry has changed so much in so little time. While I don’t have any type of inside information into that, I can imagine that plans that originally looked one way might have been scrapped due to unforeseen changes, such as the show ending, the Rick movie trilogy tuning into a limited mini series, other spinoffs etc. It’s stuff that no one really could have foreseen just a short while ago. I’ve also speculated that perhaps it was Emily herself who wasn’t ready to return due to mental health issues which she opened up about on social media a few years ago. Again, I want to stress that I don’t necessarily have a solid theory on that, it’s just one of a million legitimate possible explanations for why she still hasn’t returned.

You mentioned the Manchester con. While I enjoy reading other people’s theories on things like that, it’s not really something I personally pay much attention to. For starters, I don’t follow the actors’ schedules particularly closely, so chances are I don’t even know these things before someone else writes about it. While she technically could combine these types of things with filming, I think it’s entirely possible to film even without these events as “cover”. MMB spent time in Paris being locked up in a hotel while filming TBOC, and I believe that’s possible for others as well. If that’s what they need to do, they’ll find a way to do it.

So you say that Emily spends her time in LA at the moment, and that’s worrying for everyone who wants to believe she will be returning to the show. I agree with that, I would have loved to see something suggesting she was off somewhere filming.

I’ve got a couple of things to say to that. First, while I believe and hope she’ll return for s3 in Spain. I’m not locked on to that. There are other spinoffs, filming other places, such as Dead City. Hypothetically she could return there. @wdway theorizes that she might return in a potential season 2 of Tales of The Walking Dead. She could also appear in any of these shows in the form of a flashback or flash forward of some kind, and she doesn’t need to be in Spain to film that.

Something else I’ve been thinking about lately, which might not be a popular opinion but I’ll share it nonetheless, is that her role in the show might look different than we first thought when we joined TD. I’ve already mentioned the rapidly changing TV industry. When I joined TD almost a decade ago, the mothership TWD was a massive enterprise, with 16 episodes per season. There was infinite room for an elaborate, well fleshed out Beth/bethyl storyline.

Now, not so much. I’ve watched the leaked episodes of TBOC, and while I won’t spoil anything here, I will say that it’s only six episodes, and not even very long ones at that, and it’s super condensed and action packed (it’s a great show though, I loved it). There’s simply less room for the type of storyline we anticipated when we first stated theorizing. I’m not spoiling anything when I say that TBOC is full of Beth callbacks and Beth dialogue parallels (I’ve already written about it here and here, and rest assured there’ll be more posts, because holy mother of pearl…). But I think we should probably adjust our expectations in terms of how big of a role she will play when she returns, at least for the foreseeable future, simply because there are so few episodes per season.

And finally, as I always say, I don’t watch the show exclusively with Beth in mind, I’m a fan of the entire TWDU, and I love the show regardless of whether Beth returns or not. I fully believe she will, because that’s how I interpret the symbolism, but I don’t hate every episode or season where she doesn’t. Everyone’s different and I’m not judging anyone, but it’s probably easier for me to thoroughly enjoy the show even when Beth isn’t here, simply because I love it regardless.

So while I would love to see spoiler pics of her in Spain, I’m not terribly distressed when she seems to stay put in LA, because there are still a number of ways in which she could be “resurrected”😘

#team delusional #bethyl #team defiance #ask

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dream-in-fall · 3 months ago

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Red-blue reflections.

There are a lot of red and blue colors in the film. Often these two colors mark opposites and/or couples in one way or another. Crowley and Aziraphale, Sergeant Shadwell and Madame Tracy, Adam and Pepper, Maggie and Nina's shops, and so on. A cup of coffee and an apple of Eden. My interpretation of these colors. I assume that the color symbolism is taken from the Christian religion of the Renaissance.

In this case, the Red color means everything earthly, sensual, full of life, sexual, chaotic. Sometimes it's something aggressive (Anathema saw the red aura of an angry villager). But aggression can also be righteous bravery like Pepper, who stood up to the War. The color red does not appear symbolically in Hell and does not directly mean evil. The Blue color means everything unearthly, reasonable, calm. This is order, discipline, loyalty and stability. The blue color also does not symbolize Heaven and does not directly mean good.

I would add here the fact about two Christian saints - St. George and St. Andrew. Saint Andrew is the patron saint of the Scottish flag. The flag of Scotland has a white oblique cross on a blue background. And St. George the Victorious (the man who defeated the snake /dragon) patronizes the flag of England (this flag has a red cross on a white background. Saint George and Saint Andrew are also opposites of each other - one is a warrior (red), the other is a martyr (blue), respectively. I think it would be interesting to see these characters in the second coming?

One more color thought. Here is a screenshot. (S1E3 [54:24])

This is an image of a monitor in an office at a nuclear reactor. At the moment, there is no fuel in the nuclear reactor, there is a yellow candy that Adam placed there. The monitor shows that this yellow candy gives energy by splitting into blue and red colors. Yellow (gold) color in Christianity is a Divine color, the color of divine energy and grace. People who see it say "it's impossible". They witnessed a miracle. I associate this episode with another one.

(all subtitles are original) In this scene our angel and demon exchanged bodies and Death itself says that it is "ineffable". Death stated that it was a miracle.

I will also mention White color in my color reflections. He appears in the series four times (something I noticed.) White in this theory means purity, innocence and/or sacrifice.

1.The third baby in the S1E1. He was wrapped in a white blanket. He was a victim of circumstances. I haven't read the book, but fish were mentioned in the movie in the context of the baby. These few little facts lead me to think that this child may appear in the third season. And he will play a direct role in the second coming, as the new incarnate Christ (the fish is a symbol of Christ and also the white color his symbol too.)

2. In the theater with a red interior (1941), Aziraphale takes out a white handkerchief and theatrically waves it. I think it reflects the purity of his intentions to help his demon. And also the fact that he is the only one in this "vicious" place (where illegal alcohol is sold and people stare at half-naked girls) is a pure immaculate soul.

3. Gabriel wears a white fur coat when he goes out to the demons in the second season. He obviously intended to sacrifice himself for the sake of saving people.

4. Muriel - everything is obvious here. She's a blank slate. I really hope she doesn't fall victim to any dramatic circumstances in S3. I love Muriel).

There is also a Violet color. I have already talked about him a lot in my other posts, for example in the post about Gabriel's eyes or about the joint miracle of Azikro. I'll just mention a funny little fact here. When Aziraphale gets inside Madame Tracy, her sleeves turn violet (because she herself is marked in red, and the angel is blue, respectively.)

Violet color appears once more at the end of S2E6. When we see that Shax and Furfur are up to something together, they unite. And we see them disappearing into a violet haze. I think we need to find out exactly what this couple is up to in S3.

I assume that the violet color here means unification, union, expansion, reaching a new level.

#good omens #good omens fandom #good omens theories #good omens meta #good omens analysis #azicrow #good omens colors

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