Joe Quinn was Right (kinda)
He did say that Eddie and Chrissy would be a couple who would shake things up because no one would understand them. Pretty meta if you ask me
but seriously, I am quite fascinated around the discussion about edssy and the escalation of hate and backlash around a fictional couple that showed no problematic traits just a couple days ago. Like it went from:
A. Chrissy has a boyfriend already? to
B, Eddie and Chrissy had no romantic chemistry but could be bff (which is a nice thought and a reasonable conclusion from their interaction) to
C. Eddie is bi/pan and in love with Steve or Chrissy is a lesbian/bi (which most of us are more than okay with. We all love Steve and his hairy chest. Also who doesn’t like a gay cheerleader? )
D. Eddie is a grown man and Chrissy is literally 16. Anyone who ships this couple is gross and sick.
Like what did Edssy shippers do to deserve this backlash? Like all we did was point out that Eddie and Chrissy had like a undeniable chemistry and gushed over the fact that everyone important at stranger things kinda ships it. (also we kinda pointed out that Eddie could be bi and still be in love with Chrissy + Chrissy can’t be 16 because of multiple factors)
I just feel like ppl are jealous that everyone ships it at Netflix and not their preferable ship. It’s like semi canon. But, there are millions of canon ships on tv & media and YOU DON’T HAVE TO SHIP ANY ONE OF THEM. Why hyper-focus on a background prop (which props are known for mistakes on any tv & movie set) on this psedo-moral crusade to “preserve” Chrissy’s innocence and villainize Eddie to a degree? Are you guys hating on the nice people who ships Robin x Nancy or went after the nice people who shipped Robin x Steve last season because Nancy and Steve are both adults and Robin could be a minor still? And did we all learned that we can’t rely on Wikipedia for information for our papers? I think that same could be apply here when there are explicit lines referring to the confusion and Grace (the person who would know the intentions of the creators for the character more than anyone else) came out and say what she say like the queen she is.
It’s not that deep... like a freak and a queen choosing to date each other.
I like the idea that angels can hear prayers that name them
And there was some effort on Heaven's part to keep Aziraphale's name away from human lips, so Aziraphale gets very few if any prayers. All his work and credit go to Gabriel or Michael. It used to be a bit demotivating, but he's gotten more or less used to it
But Crowley prays to him sometimes, and it comes as a kind of tingle, a kind of echoing confusion of words that he understands only because it is in his nature to do so
The words trickle in, he can feel them in his bones and his heart
Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Keeper of Books, do you hear my prayer?
And Aziraphale sits up to listen better, for this is rare and worthy of attention
I think your phone's off the hook. I'm in the bottle shop, they've got a sale on Chardonnay, are you running low?
Aziraphale glances at his phone, which has fallen off its hook. He glances at the pile of recently emptied bottles of white wine. He tips his head to the side in consideration, then gets up and calls Crowley back
The minister pointed his finger at the queen. “The poison in your wine could only have come from her, your majesty! The queen is trying to kill you!” “No,” said the king. “If my wife wished to kill me she would look me in the eye and push a dagger into my chest.”
Prompt courtesy of @writing-prompt-s , as found here
"Stop joking around when you're dying!" I snarled at my idiot husband, now turning a delicate purple. The minister was backing away, so I leapt the table, ripping my dagger loose straight through the hole in my skirts.
He shrieked and tried to run, but courtly life had not been kind to his dexterity or his strength. It was child's play to take him to the ground, my blade to his throat. "What did you give him? Where is the antidote?"
The minister's eyes were wide and he was blubbering. It was an embarrassing display from a senior courtier - you'd think the man had never been in a knife fight before. "I don't - Madame, I - what are you implying?"
"You see, it wasn't me so that means it must have been you," I said sweetly to the minister. "Talk or I flay you alive from the balls up."
It was too theatrical a threat. I could see the pompous mask settle again. "Now see here-" he started.
I stabbed him. He screamed.
"Darling please," wheezed my moron husband, who should have been sitting down and conserving his breath. "We need... answer..."
"Working on it," I sang back, grinding my dagger against the minister's shoulder joint. He screamed again and a spurt of blood landed on my bodice. One of the summoned guards who'd been hovering turned away, his face green. Honestly, I was going to have to fire everyone next week. "I realize these aren't your balls. This is the warning stab to make my point that I am quite serious." I pulled my stiletto from my hair, considered the thin blade critically. "Not the best weapon for the job, but I'll make do. Might have to stab your balls a bit instead of flaying."
I reached down for his pants.
"Wait!" the minister screamed. "It's golden rest vine. Golden rest vine!"
There were gasps through the court. At least a couple were clearly fake and I cursed my inability to look in all directions at once.
"Never heard of it." I slit the fabric open. "I hope for your balls' sake there's an antidote."
"I know! I know that one!" We all turned to look at the little court doctor, hitherto best noted for their ability to fall asleep on two glasses of wine. They blushed but kept their hand up like they were in school. "Standard milkweed powder and brandy."
"Then go get it," I hissed and the only member of the court staff who was still going to have their job next week bobbled off at full speed. I turned back to the minister cowering at my feet. "You're a coward and a traitor," I declared. And incompetent, I added but only mentally as I couldn't very well critique an enemy assassin for that quality. "Guards, take him away to stand trial at the king's pleasure."
Now that I'd done all their job for them, the guards rushed in a great clank of armor to drag the stupid man away. That handled, I turned back to the stupid man I'd married.
The doctor was already back, trying to feed my husband a cup with their hands shaking worse than his. "Great... great work, my love," he wheezed.
"No. Beloved. Rest," I said and grabbed him by the nose. His jaw flapped open and the doctor poured the draught down his gullet. I crushed his head to my breast in a tender embrace before he could spit it out.
"How dare you try to die on me?" I hissed in his ear. "I told you your death is mine when I'm done with you!"
My husband wriggled his head free to look up at me, his color already returning. "Yes, dear," he whispered back with his stupid, inane smile entirely inappropriate to a man nearly killed by a greedy minister and incompetent staff. He touched my face gently. His fingers came away wet. "Don't cry, love. I'll be fine."
"I am not crying!" I protested, but my husband forestalled further argument on the topic by turning his head and emptying the contents of his stomach across my skirts. In the ensuing clean up of yet another mess, he slipped into gentle rest before I could conclusively prove him wrong.
Another thing I'd have to get revenge for. Another reason - no, another obligation to keep the idiot alive, no matter how exhausting.
It's a hard thing, proper revenge, but absolutely worth doing right. I'd get him. Someday.
it never goes unnoticed how jake always have music playing whenever he’s not in the air. it’s either his earphone on both ears, or My Chemical Romance or whatever up beat song he could find on spotify blaring from a wireless speaker in his temporary bedroom.
but it’s bradley and bradley only who notices jake’s flinch everytime the jet engine is turned on one by one, the booming sound echoing through the whole runway, the slight tremble everytime mav has something to say, as if jake was expecting a punch to the face. or the way jake eat like a starving man after getting yelled by cyclone.
and it took him more than three years and a pinch of trust from jake to finally know what’s behind all the quirky things he seemed to suppress.
jake was four when his dad slammed the coffee table into shreds because his mom said something that doesn’t quite right for his liking. it was awfully loud, jake was shocked, but his small figure won’t do shit at that time. can’t even protect his mom from the unreasonable rage of his very own dad. and it haunts him even over two decades later.
bradley listens to jake attentively when he told him about that time his father smack the day out of his face because he had dinner over javy’s place. jake claimed that he was so weak that his father could knock him to the ground with a single punch. but bradley knew that jake was a built teen, he wasn’t, by any chance, weak.
so, jake said, he made sure to eat until he feels like his stomach’s going to explode on dinner, so he doesn’t have to listen to his father loud ranting all night long. just so he could sleep peacefully at night, knowing fhat his mother doesn’t have to take all the punches his father threw at her because jake forgot his family.
jake laughed throughout the story telling, as if the events he told bradley wasn’t traumatic at all. and on god, bradley’s fucking hate that. the dismissive tone jake used when bradley ask him if he’s okay telling all that.
so he made a promise to himself.
with a hand around jake’s waist or shoulders. keeping a pair of earphones whenever he’s around jake. worried glances and light squeezes whenever it gets particularly loud.
bradley will try everything to make jake feels safer.
he didn’t grow up with his dad. but bradley learned the feeling of safety and comfort in the shape of maverick, which he already considered as a father figure. someone who’ll make sure you feel safe, to provide you with comfort when world gets a little bit cruel.
if jake’s dad never introduced him to it, then bradley will. if jake’s dad never give him safety and comfort, them bradley don’t mind to give jake just that with his bare hands.