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arogustus · 2 days
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Splatband Analysis - Chirpy Chips
(Disclaimer: This analysis is based on what I get out of looking into the character descriptions we have of the splatband characters. If you disagree with what I say, that is fine, we are all beheld to our opinions. Just don't be a jerk about it.)
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Splatband Analysis - Chirpy Chips
It’s the autism and ADHD squad! The chiptune chippers, Marie’s and Nintendo’s favorite band and the only one to survive Nine years together without drama (bar that one time), it’s the Chirpy Chips! Love these dudes.
Now, before we go into this, let’s address the Harmony in the room. Specifically that she has a room, in-game, where she exists in the polygonal flesh to interact with as a shopkeeper. Her autistic swag made her popular enough to be the first Splatband character to show up in the games, which means we actually know her and how she behaves. So, I’m gonna leave her for last and go about her like this: First, I’ll look into what we used to know before Splatoon 3 about her, and then we’ll compare that to her appearance in-game to see if it matches up. See if she was done right by the game. Now let’s meet these chips!
The Band
The Chirpy Chips debuted after Squid Squad all the way back in Splatoon 1, nine years ago (God). Dominating the charts thanks to their chiptune rock style, made with the help of multiple Nintendo machines (Gamers), this band has managed to outlast Squid Squad without disbanding all the way to Splatoon 3!.. Ok, actually that’s not true. According to a Famitsu Interview for Splatoon 2, the Chirpy Chips actually disbanded ever so briefly! No word as to why, but they reformed shortly after and wrote and performed Blitz It during the high of joining back. After that they’ve stuck together ever since, only really going on break because Harmony started working at Hotlantis. 
Don’t site that NoA post for Chirpy Chips Splat 3 that said there was drama by the way. The band was just on break, they are fine and NoA is just trying to stir up fake drama. It’s just like real life!
All of these guys are autistic. Like, that’s not a theory, but a fact. None of their descriptions make them sound neurotypical, that’s for sure. The band just seems to vibe perfectly with each other despite some of their issues, and they all go at their own pace. Turns out the secret to surviving in the music industry all along was to make neurodivergent friends. 
One of their performance tricks that they do is to glow in sync during songs. It’s a super cool visual to imagine, though probably done through artificial means, at least for Orion and Sid. As far as I know, there aren’t any bioluminescent crabs or flapjack octopi. Anemone and squid on the other hand do have glowing members, but it doesn’t confirm if they do it naturally or are using artificial means too. Either way these guys are a colorful bunch. And also none of them know how to dance, emphasizing further that these four are all dorks.
Noiji
Noiji is the hyperactive guitarist of the band, a stark contrast to the significantly less energetic rest of the band. He’s described as uncontrollable and bright, with a sunny disposition and an irresistible urge to run up and down slopes. He sounds overwhelming, and maybe impulsive if that slope running thing can be applied to other actions, but somehow he manages to get along well with the others. What is his secret? Also to keep with the neurodivergenceness, he has a special interest for vending machines. He would have loved them in Side Order, that’s for sure. Honestly I love vending machines too, they’re really cool, but just too expensive for someone of my income level (for now, anyway).
He used to be a part of a punk band called BariBari before he joined the Chirpy Chips.Surprising considering his colorfulness, but he seems to either formerly be, or still is, a punk. No word why he left the band though or what happened to it, but during that point he met and befriended Orion and formed the Chirpy Chips with them. They’re described to be on good terms with each other, which makes sense since, again, they knew each other before the rest joined up. 
Orion
The band's bassist and composer, a shy flapjack octopus. Yeah, despite being an octopus, they’re not an octoling, likely because of the fact the flapjack doesn’t naturally produce ink. They must be classified as something different to the inkfish, but what that is is something I don’t know. They’re an introvert, they don’t enjoy standing out or performing in front of crowds, and the compositions they upload independent of the band are done quietly. Makes one wonder how exactly someone like them made friends with Noiji. They’re an intellectual, geeky type, with a taste for outdated and strange subjects, as well as a preference for chiptune that they ensure the bands music keeps to. 
Surprising us all, Orion also got actual dialogue of sorts in the Splatoon 3 Chill Season 2023 update! Specifically in the form of Harmony reading a letter written by them. As Harmony herself describes, they talk the way they play the bass, EXTRA. Mostly in the form of excited statements and jokes about the band's lack of dancing ability. Kind of a stark difference from what we know of them, either because they’re doing this via text without having to face anyone, or because they’ve become more outgoing over the years. Either way an honor. Also canon they/them! Good for they.
Sid
The band's drummer, and the eldest among them. They’ve been drumming for a while, having performed for several other bands before joining the Chips, and they have a strong reputation in the community because of it. It seems that because of this, they’ve taken something of a silent mentor role to the others, supporting them in the background without ever taking the lead. Sort of a big brother style relationship going on. 
They’re described as easygoing, but with a hidden temper that only ever surfaces once a year, where they become way crabbier. To me it says that they don’t really express their frustrations often, just letting them simmer before they snap and vent it out. And even then they don’t draw a lot of attention that way. 
Harmony (and fish)
The anemone of the hour, the band’s vocalist and visual designer. As said above, I’ll first go over the info we knew of her before her appearance in Splatoon 3, and then compare it to what we’ve learned now to see if it was faithful to her character. 
She’s described as relaxed and going at her own pace, but to the point of being unmotivated. She’s frequently late for practice, and considering the state of her fish, who is “dying” of neglect (quote marks there cause the little guy is still alive somehow), it sounds a lot like executive dysfunction. I would know, I’m like her sometimes. Her singing voice is mentioned to also have been pretty flat and listless, but it seems years of performance has made it change to a much livelier tone in the intervening two years. She talks loosely and moves peculiarly, something the fans secretly enjoy. Why secretly? Is there a stigma against it? Her listless singing is mentioned to be a hot topic, so it might be the case.
We see in the bands’ album art for Splatoon 2 that she’s the one who mixes the chiptune music on nintendo consoles. Easy to say that she’s the pre-requisite in-universe Nintendo fan for this game. There’s one in pretty much every franchise. Skipping to “3” a bit, we can also assume she’s the one who edited the trailer, which shows off a lot of fun visuals and jokes, as well as her just goofing off like the dork that she is. For how reserved she comes off, she’s got an eccentric, goofy side hidden under there.
But now we’ve actually met her as Hotlantis’ shopkeeper! She’s a fan of the place, so despite the threat of having to work retail, she’s staying in the area in the actual manager’s place while he’s gone. She’s a fan of the store and all its useless knick knacks. As for herself as a person, it’s safe to say it all matches what we used to know of her. She’s pretty self-paced and blunt, commenting on your achievements out loud no matter how rude it sounds. She admits to it too if she beats you at tableturf, she doesn’t really know how else to talk. Her lack of motivation shows up anytime she needs to recite something Barry told her to do. She just plain doesn’t want to do any of it. She still does the work she’s willingly doing, she’s just going at her own pace. 
The fish is a fish, no telling what is up with them. Though according to some artbook information in “3” (correct me if I’m wrong), the reason they’re so sick is actually because Harmony’s hair isn’t protecting it very well. They’re still sticking around anyway, granted we’re not sure how clownfish do without an anemone, but it still seems like they’re staying of their own volition.
Harmony’s, and later Dedf1shes inclusion, gives us all hope we can see more of our favorite obscure characters in the games themselves. And looking at Harmony, we don’t have to worry too much about them being out of character, since she’s pretty accurate to the info we know.
I love these weird goobers. They should continue showing up. But now we are in the finale. Ω-3 is all that’s left now. See ya next time!
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rainyfroggy · 2 years
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Why no one told me the tiny au got a fic ;0; i read it almost a month later!!
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catgirljaneway · 3 months
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everytime i see something about tuvix i am filled with inhumane rage ngl
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avemstella · 1 year
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Pantalone's Constellation Misinfo and Likely Influence
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Hello and welcome to Avem rambles where I'm about to take you guys down an insane rabbit hole I discovered at 1 am and stayed up until almost 4 trying to figure out what was going on and losing my mind. And the topic in question is the mystery that is the Constellation that is probably our anti-capitalist king Pantalone's, as shown above.
(However just as a disclaimer, this is not confirmed as of the writing of this in 3.3. Just putting that out there because harbinger con speculation has been going on from day one and anyone who ever claims they are 100% certain a con is for a certain harb, they are from my experience often proven wrong. only confirmed ones are Scara/childe/Sigs. Also just in general this is a theory post and I could be wrong about some stuff, so please let me know if you have evidence that contradicts my points etc. I would love to hear it, this post will go into (spoilers) unquestioned mis-info so I would be hypocritical otherwise)
But yes, if you've been around any Harbinger constellation speculation you have probably heard the claim that this Constellation we are discussing is a symbol for Heresy, and there was a lot of postulating about how it could be Dottore's based on his real name likely being Zandik which means heretic and just in general his whole deal. However as seen above its probably Pantalone's considering he's wearing it, which raises some questions but its not inconceivable for him to be associated with heresy. But ultimately it doesn't matter whose it is, because that's not actually what this post's about, so get ready.
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So, if you've seen anyone talking about this symbol meaning heresy, you've probably seen one of the above pictures, or some similar variation. Or maybe when you googled "heresy symbol" you saw these symbols in the results. That's what I did, and immediately alarm bells went off in my head.
Because, all these pictures have one thing in common, all their sources have one thing in common. They all link to stock image sites. ALL OF THEM. There were more examples, but every picture on google images of this symbol or a variation all linked to a stock image site, to these generic corporate simplified icons. And none of those sites had their source, they were often bundled with other generic religious symbols, some normal and others equally weird.
So I took a different angle, I looked up "heresy religion" and other derivatives to find some actual historical/religious sources. Maybe its just because we live in a corporate hell and these ones got sent to the front of the line. But I looked, and looked, and looked. No actual scholarly source has this symbol anywhere. Because the thing is, despite what these stock images say, Heresy is not an official region (or even a cult). Because by definition, heresy is just a derivative of a religion, an action that goes against religious doctrine. And even me looking into 'heretical' religions by other names gave me no results. None of their symbols are similar beyond maybe a cross motif which means nothing.
(side note If anyone can actually find a proper source that uses this symbol, I will love to see it. prove me wrong though I'll be honest as what I'm about to get into, I don't think u can)
So at this point I was pulling out my hair because what the fuck. Where did this symbol even come from!? Why is this symbol associated with heresy? It was a terrible hour of the night but I didn't care, I had to figure it out.
Which is when I saw something that clicked something into place and lit up a path to the future. That suddenly made me remember something else that had kept popping up in my searches but I just dismissed because obviously it has nothing to do with my search for heresy.
Warhammer 40,000
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I found it!
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Holy shit. Its not a cross its a SWORD
So yes, lets backtrack slightly. So in my journey to find the heresy, Warhammer 40k kept popping up. Both in the images and in the normal search linking to the wiki etc. But beyond a cursory glance to confirm I didn't see the symbol, I dismissed it because obviously it has nothing to do with this. It was just popping up because Heresy was a term used in the game, but the symbol for its was this:
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Which was not what I was looking for (also should mention I know basically nothing about warhammer, but from my googling this is also a symbol of a civil war not a religion). But then of course I saw the other symbol above, and went wait fuck and proceeded to do a deep dive.
Won't pretend I have actually learned anything about Warhammer, but thats fine this isn't really about Warhammer either, its about the internet.
Because you see the Warhammer community like any good community, has its memes. And what is one such meme from Warhammer: The Heresy meme
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When I googled "warhammer 40k heresy" the first sujestion was to add "meme" to it, and from what I've researched its a super popular old meme. And while not immedietly connected to the above symbol, it does show up. For example, in the "Heresy symbol" google search from earlier, there's this one:
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And hey look, there's a cross symbol with the wings. Also fun fact, in a lot of the "heresy symbol" designs theres an orb shape between the wings. Well look at this:
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Oh look at that, isn't that similar.
So yes, long story short I'm fairly certain the so-called "heresy symbol" is not in fact some ancient symbol, but in fact a reference to Warhammer that went through an extreme game of internet telephone resulting in stock media sites copying the symbol from each other and it bit by bit transforming it into something unrecognizable and then into obscurity (these things have no downloads on these sites). Only for one day a genshin theorist to accidentally google something super specific and find them and take it at face value and now I see people claiming its a heresy symbol all the time. I'm torn between laughing and crying. The power of misinformation.
So, what is this constellation supposed to be then, if it isn't a heresy symbol (we are assuming hoyo did proper research and didn't use a symbol for heresy that isn't actually a thing). Well fun fact, part of the reason I did research on this thing was that I already had a theory about it and was really confused why everyone was calling it a heresy symbol. And was like, I guess I'll look into it to see why everyone was saying that and well u know the rest.
But yes, this constellation. I'm fairly certain its actually supposed to be referencing a Globus cruciger. Aka one of these things:
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Hey, isn't that shape familar. It also much like the original constellation, the cross ends at the orb.
So what is this thing and how does it relate to Pantalone (we are assuming its his constellation, he's wearing it)
According to the wiki (which is properly sourced) its:
"known as 'the orb and cross', is an orb surmounted by a cross. It has been a Christian symbol of authority since the Middle Ages, used on coins, in iconography, and with a sceptre as royal regalia.
The cross represents Christ's dominion over the orb of the world, literally held in the hand of an earthly ruler. In the iconography of Western art, when Christ himself holds the globe, he is called Salvator Mundi (Latin for 'Saviour of the World')."
Huh, a symbol of royalty, power, and riches, how apt. Also fun fact here's one of the Russian ones because these are our fake Russian's after all.
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And if you weren't convinced by that, I have something else to tell you.
Also a quote from the wiki:
"The globus cruciger was used as the alchemical symbol (♁) for antimony. It was also used as an alchemical symbol for Lupus metallorum “the grey wolf” supposedly used to purify alloyed metals into pure gold."
An Alchemical symbol associated with the purification of GOLD. Genshin loves their alchemy and even disregarding that, this constellation is probably Pantalone's aka the Harbinger's money man.
Who has this quote from the Pale Flame set, "Money is the lifeblood of the world, and the pathways along which it flows are the world's arteries. Then, the center of the world is a heart made of gold."
Pantalone a man who desires to control the world through controlling money.
"We shall, by whatever means necessary, become the heart that pumps money around the world." "And, when the moment comes, that heart shall cease beating by our will alone."
The Globus cruciger is literally symbolic of a ruler holding the world in their hands. A symbol of gold and power, it suits Pantalone perfectly.
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lecliss · 3 months
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I've still been fucked up ever since I found out that(according to an actually plausible timeline), Konoha has only existed for like 90-something or whatever years??? It's not like. Fucking 200 years old or whatever. And that Madara died when he was 74 but he had himself hooked up to, fuckin what was it??? The Gedo statue?? A tree?? Whatever. In order to keep himself alive and you look at him all old and crusty and think he's like. Over a hundred at least. But no, that man's 74. He's just an average fucking grandpa!!! And Hashirama had been dead for a LONG while, so he actually died pretty young all things considered. And that also means Mito died like. Fuckin. I'm guesstimating here but in her 60s I guess???? But it's a significant thing that the Uzumakis have longer than average lifespans so like. What the fuck is the average life expectancy in Naruto for this bullshit to make sense???
#ever since i found out mada died at 74 ive been thinking those obi grandpa theories/allegations could actually be true#cuz doesnt he actually call obi his descendant at one point or something??? i mean i do think he meant that metaphorically#but at that age it actually could be possible#mada just woulda had to have a kid later than hashi did to make sense of the age difference between obi and tsun@de#and his grandma from the anime isnt canon so we can discount her in this equation#still fucked up tho over all hidden villages therefore being younger than a century#i think in my head it just feels like kages should be kages from like. their 20s or whenever the get the position#to like. their 70s or 80s or whenever they die#ya know like hiruzen made it to 68 i think??? and only died cuz of oro#but then again he did step down for mina like. 15 whatever years ago if were using 12yo nart for comparison#so going by 'they have the position for like a couple decades. maybe 2 MAYBE 3 then pass it on to someone else'#yeah it would then make sense for konoha to be on kage number 5 within a century#it just. doesnt really occur to me i guess. am i the only one fucked up by realizing this??? or has it always been obvious to everyone else?#granted when i was a kid i was ALWAYS so confused by how there could be a 4th hokage when the current guy is called the 3rd#i just never picked up on the idea that the 3rd returned to the position when the 4th died lmao#so yeah of course this has always gone right over my head#personal
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dabidagoose · 1 year
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Oh. My god. He's a DRUID!!
#ok ok so. context for this#my cursed baby boy wugglies is a sorcerer very much not by will in my dnd game. and at some point pals and i considered AU where we're all#like living relatively happy suburban lives in an HOA. and the big question there for me is like. what the hell class would wugglies be#when he actually has a *choice*#and like. y'know we've played this game for a while now and I was still a pretty baby player at the beginning. so i didn't really#understand how the hell a cleric worked nevermind a druid#but. now that I'm Big. and i Know Things (thx dimension 20). I'm like. oh. he's a druid. DUH!#it's like. i think he has a connection to magic no matter what cause i think he *does* enjoy it. but also the sorcerer stuff is a little#too much premeditated destiny stuff for wugglies who likes to have choice over his life. he's not religious so cleric doesn't work and he's#not really someone i see as a wizard (although i feel like he would want to practice doing magic he wouldn't want to study or get into the#theory or anything). and he's very much not a bard vibe. so the question is what the hell is he#but like. if he were at his best self he WOULD be connected to nature. when he accidentally killed a horse in combat he cried and when he#thoughtlessly smashed a bug it was indicative of him losing his sense of self and a horrifying moment#wugglies would always be a magic user but it'd be because he's connected to the natural world and be using nature in that way#also like. my lion guy be transforming into animals anyways (polymorph beloved). it's just tight#right*#so happy to have made this realization#crowned#DND blorbo posts
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starrytalking · 2 years
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I recently watched “Little Women” and I didn’t know it would be that saddddd.
Also Jo totally should’ve been aroace! I related to so much she was going through just for it to (slight spoiler!) end in a romance again….
#starrytalking#like she could’ve been such great rep#and then she just isn’t and ‘finds someone who accepts her as she is’#this was so unnecessary‚ why couldn’t they just let her be happy without a partner but with ger writing and friends and family :/#second note‚ after some time: ok I know now that that’s not entirely true#so Jo (do I need to do a spoiler warning again) in the second Little Women book apparently marriages this professor dude but the author#originally said she wanted her to be a “literary spinster” kinda like herself but then got pressured by readers so much that she gave her#this rando as love interest#and the director wanted to stay true to what the author originally wanted so while we see Jo kiss this dude on screen and kinda live with#him in this idealised idea of the future she 'in reality’ doesn’t do that and that’s only what she wrote in her book#because the book is about her and her sisters life just like the overall movie but in the end we see the printing dude telling her to marry#her main character (basically herself) to someone for the book to perform better (sorta what happened to the author of little women herself)#so actually Jo doesn’t get married but gets to be happy with publishing her book and loving with her family ect. and the whole forced#“romance” with the professor is just a marketing thing for her book that she eventually agrees on#this made me feel very much better about the end of this movie that at first shattered me#and yes I just recently had a heavy discussion with someone who didn’t believe my theory of Jo not actually getting married but it being in#her book but luckily the internet and interviews with the director of the movie proved me right#aromantic#aro#asexual#ace#lgbtqia+#little women#movie#jo march#slight spoilers
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secretmellowblog · 6 months
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People who try to analyze what happened on Tumblr on November 5th, 2020, often really overstate how much it was actually “about” Supernatural. As someone who has never been in the supernatural fandom ever but dID join in on the hysterical destielposting—it was really more about the stress of the pandemic and the 2020 presidential election.
The two biggest Youtubers I’ve seen try to dissect “what happened that November 5th” in video essays both weren’t American—- and I think that explains why they both tried to explain the hysteria primarily via analyzing the Supernatural fandom/the original show, rather than through the lens of the election. And while those videos are cool, valid, informational, and make lots of really well-considered interesting points— I can tell you that me and almost all my mutuals had literally no knowledge or interest in the fact that “oh supernatural had made nods at the ship in the past but the creators were adamant that I wouldn’t be canon” or etc etc etc etc. the first time I learned about any of that context was way later, watching videos where people claimed that fandom history context (that I did not know anything about) was the actual reason for the hysteria.
But the reality is that people latched on to the Destiel stuff because it was a piece of big useless inane zero-stakes fandom news in a time when we were desperately waiting for serious high stakes election news. We were latching onto a “positive “ piece of inane stupid fandom news in a time of great stress, with all the desperation of a drowning man who latches onto whatever piece of wood will keep him afloat.
The core of the hysteria was that Americans (who make up a huge chunk of tumblr’s userbase) were currently glued to their laptops watching the live presidential election vote counts come in. These vote counts were taking an extended amount of time due to the pandemic causing high numbers of mail-in ballots, resulting in a constant state of Election Day Stress for multiple days straight.
This was also during the height of the Pandemic. People had predicted Trump’s presidency would be bad; no one had predicted it would be this apocalyptically bad. No one had predicted pandemics and lockdowns and hospitals overflowing with bodybags. remember Trump spreading Covid lies and conspiracies?? There were so many Qanon conspiracies about democrats being Satanic child traffickers who had to be put to death, and coup threats were mounting from the right wing side. It seemed like this election was a choice between ‘centrist democrat’ and “apocalyptic right wing conspiracy theory authoritarianism,” in the midst of pandemic conditions that people feared would never ever improve— and it seemed like a close election.
Another major point was that Trump voters were more likely to be antimaskers/Covid deniers, while Biden voters were more likely to take the pandemic seriously— so Biden voters were more likely to send in mail-in ballots instead of risking the in-person voting crowds, which meant their ballots would take much longer to count. And so, in many state electoral vote counts, it would initially seem like Trump was very far in the lead— only for Biden to slooooowly build up an agonizingly small lead as the mail in ballots came in, and then defeat Trump at the very end.
So you’re just watching these news sites giving live election updates, refreshing the page every 2 minutes to see if you’re going to live under a spineless centrist democrat or a literal Qanon Dictatorship. And then you go on tumblr to distract yourself, and there’s more election posting, and more agonizing over the votes, and more stress and despair—-
And then it’s been days and we’re right at the crucial tipping point where it’s anyone’s game and the next few hours will determine whether Trump will win, so you need to keep your eye on the vote count, because the next hours will determine the future of the pandemic and your country and your plans for your entire life—
And then stupid Destiel becomes canon! And it becomes canon in the silliest way possible!
If Destiel had become canon at any other time, it would have been a big goofy tumblr celebration? But we wouldn’t have gotten the insane explosion of hysterical interaction.
The entire core of it was the contrast between the inane meaningless stupidity of fandom news vs the actual stressful election news you wanted to hear! It really is best conveyed in that meme where Castiel says “I love you” and Dean indifferently responds with a piece of important election news.
It’s about the contrast between the low-stakes inanity of fandom and the massive life-destroying stakes of a terrifying election. There really was no reason it had be Supernatural specifically, except that Supernatural was a thing everyone knew basic things about from dashboard osmosis— it could’ve been any other equally huge silly fandom ship news about a ship everyone *knew of* but might not necessarily be invested in (ex. Stucky becoming canon, Johnlock becoming canon, Kirk/Spock becoming more canon somehow, etc etc etc.)
I think it’s true that people who weren’t paying agonizingly close attention to the American election news got swept up in it, and that non American Supernatural fans also were extremely excited for purely fandom reasons — but the entire reason it blew up to an unprecedented degree was because of that core of stressed out terrified Americans glued to their computers watching election results and suddenly receiving stupid fandom news instead, and deciding to just hysterically parodically hyper-celebrate this absurd useless zero-stakes news.
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I think it was also all elevated by the fact that, as I said before, this happened at the crucial “tipping point” of the election where the next few hours would determine the winner. The fact that Biden began to slowly develop a lead in the hours after made it feel, hysterically, as if the hours after Destiel became canon was somehow the turning point where he began to win; so celebrating Destiel felt like celebrating that slow turn towards victory.
The tl,dr is that it’s so important to Remember the Fifth of November …..in preparation the inevitable hysteria that will happen in the presidential election on November 5th of next year. XD. Personally I’m rooting for Johnlock or Frodo/Sam to somehow become canon in the eleventh hour right before the democrats win
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falling-endlessly · 3 months
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The Finer Things in Death
Alastor x Soulmate!Female!Reader
Summary: An AU where your soulmate's first words to you are tattooed on your body in their handwriting.
Oh dear, where's your smile?
You knew those words by heart. Could recite them backwards, in your sleep even. Those damning words have been inscribed on the inside of your ankle for as long as you could remember, the elegant cursive strokes poking out of your shoe line.
In theory, somewhere, someone else was supposed to be sporting your own neat, boxy handwriting. You'd say you lucked out with yours. Some soul marks were less than pleasant, and others were downright embarrassing (imagine having the words move, asshole written on your stomach for the rest of your life. No thank you).
At least your soulmate was trying to cheer you up, right?
Yeah, but there was just one teeny, tiny problem.
Your soulmate was dead. Long dead actually.
Were they stillborn? Did their toddler self die in a house fire or something? Night after night you laid awake in your bed, pondering what the hell could have possibly happened to have altered the entire course of fate.
All you really knew was that your soul mark was a light gray (indicating a severed bond) instead of the usual inky black, and it had been since the day you were born. Everyone was in shock to see the faint words on your little ankle. After all, how could a soul mark exist if the other person wasn't even alive to speak those words into existence?
Simply put, you were a conundrum, and it had been some time since you had dedicated effort into figuring out why? You'd accepted it. Your soulmate was dead. Life went on.
Besides, you'd spent enough time grieving over someone you'd never met before.
Your lifestyle was not extravagant by any means, but it was comfortable. You had a steady income, lived on your own in an apartment in the city, and survived off of more than ramen bowls. Every day you would come home and read in your little fluffy alcove that you'd built yourself by your window, or pop open a bag of chips (and the occasional bottle of wine, if you were feeling fancy) while you watched the latest crime show releases from your couch.
Yes, so comfortable was your little routine, that you didn't notice the robbery happening in the convenience store you were browsing in, or the stray bullet coming for your head until it was too late. Your skull exploded in a world of pain, eyes rolling back as your body crumpled to the ground.
Dying was an interesting experience, to say the least. Your soul floated from your body, the final notes of music that blasted from your earphones fading into nothingness like the sound of a car driving away.
There was a brief moment where you were struck numb, hovering in the air as you stared down at your glassy eyed corpse, blood pooling alarmingly from the circular shaped hole in your head. You heard screams of the other customers behind you, but they were kind of muffled, like you were underwater.
It didn't last long though, because before you knew what was happening, you felt an almighty tug downwards,  like an anchor had just chained itself to your stomach.
And that was how you ended up in hell. Fun. What were you here for? You had no idea. Maybe God got mad that your teenage self stole a few packs of gummy bears in high school. But a life of eternal damnation and suffering seemed a little harsh, didn't it?
Before you could contemplate the semantics of it though, something...strange happened. Your ankle, right where you'd tried countless times to forget your soul mark existed, was burning like a fucking brand.
You hissed sharply in pain, frantically pulling down your sock to assess the damage. Was the eternal punishment starting already or something? Shit, you had terrible pain tolerance.
But what you saw made you gasp. In fact, you could hardly believe your eyes.
Because in the place of your faded grey soul mark, the letters had been reinvigorated, darkened with a swift hand and—glowing they were glowing holy shit.
"Hah," you huffed in disbelief, shaking your head slowly. "So that was it, huh? I was destined to meet my shitty soulmate in hell this whole fucking time?" You punctuated the last words with a few angry kicks to an unassuming patch of weeds. What a cosmic joke at your existence.
But, like you always did in shitty situations, you gathered all of your raging emotions, stuffed them tightly in a box at the back of your mind, and cooled your head. Freaking out in this place would do you no good.
Turned out hell was pretty much like the world you'd left, except for the fact that you could kill someone on the street and nobody would bat an eye. Like all of the depraved aspects of humanity were on full display now in a somehow still functioning society.
You managed to snag a job at an old record store, the owner giving you one look before grunting and gesturing to the register—but not before lifting his jacket to show you the long assault riffle strapped across his chest. Yeesh, you got the message.
It wasn't a bad job by any means, especially considering where you were. Sure a little boring and monotonous, but you'd restock thousands of old albums if it meant staying away from the overlords.
Oh, yeah, another thing. Overlords were like the big shots around hell. Messing with them usually meant a death sentence, or worse, a contract.
And if there was anything at all that you picked up from all those nights of watching television, it was that you do not make deals with the devil. Really, elementary level shit. And you'd never actually seen Lucifer, mind you, but these demons were probably a close second, right?
Yeah, so really, you were just living a shittier variant of your life on earth it seemed. Repetitive, safe and comforting. You were even starting to like the scent of musty cardboard, as weird as that was.
And once again, all thoughts of your soulmate slipped your mind.
Until one day, when everything went to shit.
****
It started like this: with the sad sight of your empty fridge.
You groaned, dragging a tired hand down your face. Seriously? You thought you'd restocked already, damn it. 
Your stomach growled achingly, and you sighed, wondering if you'd actually die again if you starved yourself. Begrudgingly, you decided that you didn't really want to chance it, throwing on the first set of clothes that you saw and slipping out of your dingy apartment to make a quick grocery run.
You generally hated leaving your apartment, and didn't do so except to retrieve bare necessities or walk across the block to go to work.
Why? Well, see exhibit A to your left: some poor, random demon screeching and running around on fire. See exhibit B to your right: a turf war between two rival gangs. And finally how could you forget, cannibal colony, slurping up intestines like bloody, chunky spaghetti. Disgusting.
The worst thing about hell wasn't the fact that you were in hell, it was the fact that the worst of the worst people were all cramped together like some fucked up refugee camp, and some people were significantly worse than others. Which sucked, for the poor unfortunate souls just trying to get by. Like you.
You sighed, ducking under a stray stream of bullets (you weren't falling for that shit twice) and side stepping pools of blood and guts. Just a regular Monday morning in hell. God damn it.
It seemed luck wasn't on your side though, because an ugly, dog-headed demon blocked your path, sneering down at you smugly. "Hey bitch, it's your lucky day. The big boss is hiring, and you fit the profile."
You clenched your grocery bags in a white-knuckled grip. Nobody would give a flying fuck if you were dragged off of the street in broad daylight. "Not interested."
"Oh it wasn't a suggestion," he chuckled darkly. You tensed as you were surrounded by at least four other demons. Shit, you knew you should have slept in.
"You like apples?" You nodded sharply at the demon in charge.
His face twisted in annoyance. "Why the fuck do y—"
You reached into your bag, before hurling a granny smith straight at his forehead. He yelped as it made contact, stumbling back as he shook his head in confusion. While everyone was still in shock from your weapon of choice, you shoved your way out of the circle, gunning it straight down the street because your second life did depend on it.
"Get her!" You heard a yell of absolute rage, making you shiver. Fuck, that did not sound promising. That apple must have really pissed him off.
Putting your limited aerobics to use, you ducked, dodged and lunged through the crowd like a pro. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest, air burning your lungs as you pumped your legs faster. But of course, your grocery bag ripped open, sending all of your food tumbling and you by extension, tripping and face planting in the dirt rather pathetically.
A meaty hand gripped a handful of your hair, yanking it up harshly. You cried out as he pulled, hands uselessly trying to smack his away, but his hold only tightened. A liquor-filled breath and cheap cologne invaded your senses, making you cough.
"Uppity bitch," he growled, giving your scalp a painful yank for good measure. "You actually thought you could get away? Maybe I should teach you a lesson, huh? Sample the goods."
You froze, every nerve in your body going cold. So far in your stay in hell, you'd managed to avoid the more depraved souls here. You kept your head down, didn't draw attention to yourself, and were mostly left alone. Looked like today, your luck had finally run out.
"Get the hell off of me!" You spat, twisting around vehemently, only for your head to snap to the side as you were harshly backhanded.
"Stop your fucking whining and stay still!" He snapped, narrowing his eyes.
You bared your teeth, snapping at him aggressively.
A round of mocking chuckles went around the group of your kidnappers, the one holding your hair giving you a wicked grin. "Shit, that was cute. Really—"
He didn't get to finish his sentence, because his head exploded. Literally exploded, blood and brain matter dripping from your face. His hand went slack, dropping you on your wobbling knees.
Everyone was silent for a second, staring at the bloody mess where the demon was standing two seconds prior.
And that was when you heard it. Static. Loud, crackling and ominous.
Your mouth went dry. Shit. Shitty shit shit. You knew what that meant. How could you not? The asshole broadcasted his killings all over hell like a fucking psychopath. And now, it was your turn to become hell's gory entertainment. Fan-fucking-tastic.
You stood frozen, breath stuck in your throat as dark, menacing tendrils slowly curled along the walls. A large, grinning shadow rounded the corner, before the culprit himself stalked into view, razor sharp teeth on display as he tilted his head. "Oh," his grin widened. "Am I interrupting?"
"N-No man," one of the braver demons stuttered, taking a step back. "You can have her—"
Splat.
You turned slowly to face the bloody wall, eyes wide in disbelief.
"How distasteful," the radio demon shook his head. "As if I'd participate in your brainless thuggery. No, no. Unlike you gentlemen, I have class. Truly," his eyes lit up like glowing radio dials, a dark shadowy mass rising behind him as his antlers branched out like a gnarled, rotten tree. "Did your mother never teach you any manners?"
Faster than you could blink, the demons around you were reduced to blood, cartilage and splintered bone. The overwhelming irony scent made you want to gag, but you didn't dare move a muscle, eyes fixated on the terrifying sight before you.
When the radio demon noticed your staring, his smile sharpened, antlers shrinking as he leisurely approached you. Oh no. Nononono.
You struggled to keep from hyperventilating, your body going into shock as he leaned into your personal space. Two bloody fingers pushed into your cheeks, forcing your mouth into a morbid, artificial smile. "Oh dear," he tutted in amusement. "Where's your smile?"
You jerked back violently, eyes wide as icy cold realization washed over you. Dread squeezed your lungs as you stared at the grinning, bloody figure of your soulmate in horror.
The radio demon. Psychopath and mass murderer.
Your soulmate.
What the FUCK.
"T-This," your voice shook. "This is not happening."
There was a sudden screech of radio static, before his own eyes widened. Shit. "What," he said sharply. "Did you just say?"
"A-Ah," you trembled, leaning back. Every single nerve in your body was alight, screaming at you to get the ever-loving fuck away from him.  In what was probably the stupidest and most desperate plan of your life, you pointed over his shoulder fearfully. "Look! Another one!"
As soon as he turned his head, you bolted down the street.
****
You slammed your front door closed behind you, double—triple checking your lock before sliding down to the floor in a panting mess.
Immediately you grew paranoid. What the fuck were you thinking? A lock wouldn't keep the radio demon out. You needed fifty more locks and ten more doors. You needed to barricade yourself inside for the next month. You needed—
"Hello there!" An exuberant voice chirped.
You screamed, throwing the first thing you could grab in his direction. He caught the house slipper, inspecting it in amusement, before tossing it over his shoulder.
"My, did I scare you sweetheart? Apologies," he grinned smugly, relaxing in your recliner with a mug of coffee. Your favorite mug.  
You blinked. What the fuck?
"What are you doing in my house?" You squeaked, fingers digging into your welcome mat.
"Oh dear, allow me to introduce myself," he set the mug down on your coffee table, leisurely rising from the couch and offering a hand. "I'm Alastor! A pleasure to be meeting you sweetheart, quite a pleasure."
You didn't take his hand, instead choosing to gape at him like a dead fish.
He retracted his hand, tilting his head with a shit-eating grin. Twirling his cane, he continued like there wasn't just an awkward and terrifying pause. "I hope you don't mind that I followed you! You see, I believe our conversation was cut a bit...short." His eyes glowed as unidentifiable symbols floated in the air around him.
As quickly as they appeared however, they disappeared like they were never there. Jesus Christ, this man was giving you emotional whiplash. "Anywho!" He perked up again, ever the charming grin on his face. "Enough about me! I've yet to catch your name, darling."
Fuck. You really didn't want to give him your name.
But before you could open your mouth, he leaned closer to you, grin widening ominously. "I hope you're not thinking of lying, my dear. I must say, I'm not very fond of that quality."
"Y-Y/n!" You said quickly, raising your hands to shield your face.
There was a slight pause, before a gentle touch swiped at your cheek, retracting after a moment. You peeked your eye open, only to become vaguely ill at the sight.
"You had a little something on your face," he chuckled in amusement, holding out a clump of brain matter. With a swift flick, it was magicked away.
"What do you want?" You whimpered, overwhelmed with the entire situation.
"Oh dear, is it really that strange for me to want to get to know my soulmate?" He tilted his head, leaning towards you uncomfortably close.
"Y-Yes, actually," you stuttered, trying to look anywhere but his prominent red eyes. "I thought you'd do something more along the lines of...killing and eating me." You shrunk back as his grin widened. "Please don't eat me."
"How morbid, I would never!" He waved it away, like the idea was preposterous. "My word! What awful rumors you've been hearing about me!"
"You frequent cannibal colony and I just saw you tear apart six demons like they were freshly baked bread," you stared at him incredulously. "What hasn't been spot on?"
He paused, before giving you a humoring chuckle. "Well it seems your impression of me needs correcting!" Before you knew what was happening, nimble fingers encircled your wrist, pulling it forward gently. He pressed warm lips to the back of your hand, before giving you a charming grin. "Enchantée, ma chère."
You blinked, breath stuck in your throat. "What—What does that mean?"
"Oh, don't you worry your pretty little head about it!" He gently set your hand down, before pinching your cheek condescendingly. "Well my dear, I'm afraid I have other responsibilities I must attend to!"
He stood up with a flourish, leaning on his microphone cane as he smirked at you. "Not to worry!" He snapped his fingers, and a slim, feminine shadow emerged from the ground. "Missy here will watch over you in my stead."
"What? No, I—"
"I'll be back before you know it!" He offered a chilling smile, before melting into a puddle of shadows.
You gaped at the spot where he once stood, trying to process what the actual fuck just happened. Your gaze slid over to the feminine looking shadow, still standing in the corner of your living room. She grinned at your attention, teeth sharpened.
You closed your eyes, head thumping back against your door in exhaustion. 
"I'm so fucked."
****
Enchantée, ma chère : Charmed, my dear
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notgreengardens · 5 months
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So I am not making this post to feel superior for how stupid I find James Somertons video essays. I am sure there are a lot of great and brilliant arguments that he stole from other people. That being said, what really stood out to me after watching the videos by hbomberguy and todd in the shadows is how incredibly tumblr the stuff he straight up made up feels like. I am sure I have seen half of the claims that were debunked by todd on here as posts, falling into the genre of:
Outrage over "widely spread" opinions or reactions that are actually just based on one tweet by just one random person with no following or by a guy (or "white women") he made up to get angry at
Misogyny and racism veiled in social justice language
Conspiracy theories veiled in social justice language
Fake history hiding its contempt for historians and academic research in social justice language
Claims that sound intuitively right but there is literally no evidence and you are left to wonder why anyone would just make this stuff up
Wild unfounded claims about media that make you lose your mind wondering if you both have read/watched the same source material
Not gonna lie, I wouldn't be surprised if someone found a video of him just straight up plagiarising that one infamous and antisemitic tumblr post about how anne franks father was homophobic for leaving his dead daughters bisexuality out of the first edition of her published diary. Exactly the vibes his bullshit gives off. What the fuck.
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lxvvie · 3 months
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Simps 'R Us, Between the Sheets edition: Your faves and the wholesome and funny things you two get up to in bed, part I.
Capt. John Price - When he's half asleep and about to snore loud enough to wake the dead (Price vehemently denies this), you like to have random conversations with him because you know questions you ask will do one of two things: elicit a nonsensical answer from the Cap'n or... wake him up from his sleep altogether.
Gaz - Is curling up into himself because you're the big spoon, you're running your hands over his body because he's highkey lowkey ticklish, and your face is buried in his neck because... he's highkey lowkey ticklish. "Darling, please—" Gaz manages to gasp out between... wait, are you giggling, Garrick?
Soap - Your darling golden retriever chaotic good boyfriend loves... to sleep naked. You're not complaining, though, especially because he loves it when you lay on him. You've made a home for yourself between his thighs; his stomach is your pillow, and he usually has a hand rubbing your head. Helps him to relax, y'know, bonnie? And whenever you don't lay on him, it's an affront to Johnny's... everything. His heart is broken. His soul is crushed. You're too far away from him (even though you're still right under him). How could you do this to him? He can't live like this. No other stud muffin can offer you what he can, beautiful. But no really, bonnie, he needs you on top of him like... yesterday.
Ghost - You really like his body. Like... really like his body. You blow raspberries on his stomach, you smack his ass, you talk about his eyelashes—scratch that, you love his body. To you, every scar tells a story, and you've asked him plenty of times to talk about them. And then you did the unthinkable that had Simon wanting to disappear into the fucking blankets—"Si-bear, I didn't know you had a mole on your inner thigh!" Bloody fucking hell, he'll never hear the end of this. And then you kissed it and Ghost's face had never felt so bloody hot before. Christ, you'll be the death of him, sweetheart.
Roach - Nothing but the most sickeningly saccharine stuff to ever stuff happens with Roach. A poke-fest, a kiss-fest, a tickle-fest, you name it, it happens. Roach loves to sleep with his face buried in your chest and arms wound tight around you. Always. You rubbing his head soothes him to sleep as well.
Alex - You're also the big spoon here, too. You're busy talking about conspiracy theories you believe the government is/was involved in and Alex is entertaining you ("That so, Boss?"). In actuality, his eyes are comically wide because the truth is oftentimes stranger than fiction and you may or may not be walking a little heavy there, Boss.
Alejandro - Is the big spoon to your little spoon in bed no matter what you're doing. Loves to intertwine your legs together, too. Alejo murmurs how much he loves you in your ear and kisses the top of your head before telling you good night.
Rudy - Sometimes when he's asleep, you'll whisper "Rodolfo" in his ear which causes Rudy to shoot up, eyes comically wide because the only time someone calls him by his full government name is when he gets into shit but it wasn't him this time, it was that idiot Alvarez— "Didn't get to tell you good night and I love you, Rudy, so... good night and I love you, Rudy." Oh. Oh. Ha. Real funny.
Farah - A cuddle bunny through and through. She loves laying up under you, her head resting on your shoulder or under your chin, or her face in the crook of your neck. She wants to hear you as you sleep. She wants to feel the gentle rise and fall of your chest or the resonances as you speak. Farah simply can't get enough of you.
Keegan - It's really you teasing him because Keegan isn't one to really get flustered or deviate from his infamously neutral expression. Much. Until you came along. You two are relaxing in bed and you're the one randomly calling out, "Hey, Kee-Kee," to which Keegan makes the most surprised and disgusted face in response and you're wheezing.
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please tell us more about your mad theory about the tories getting rid of Sunak?
So the Tories currently have two (2) major problems.
Problem the first: they are about to lose power as soon as the GE rolls around, which it must do by January 2025 at the absolute latest. And the country is baying for one sooner.
This is very much preoccupying their minds at the minute. The rich and powerful will never willingly let you vote away their wealth and power, and to put this into perspective, the Tory party has ruled this country either jointly or alone for over a decade at this point. One of David Cameron's strategies as leader was to focus on recruitment of young and exciting diverse Tories into the party, which is how we got such stellar entries as Liz Truss and Priti Patel and Suella Braverman. These are MPs, therefore, who have never known political life outside of being on the winning side. They are seeing the end of the gravy train in sight, and they are taking it as well as you'd expect.
This is why the infighting is so rife (partly; bear with). The main thing they care about right now is making the party electable again, and fast.
But...
Problem the second: like all good fascist dictators, when Boris Johnson came to power, he fired everyone who said anything bad about him for disloyalty, and promoted all his personal friends. This is how we got such stellar entries as Nadine Dorries and Jacob Rees Mogg and Michael Fabricant. But THAT'S an issue because saying bad things about BJ is basically what intelligent people did, because the man was a useless blundering oaf who killed horrifying numbers of his own electorate via the world's second worst mismanagement of a global pandemic. So removing anyone who criticised him meant, in very real terms, removing the only Tories with half a brain who were even a fraction capable of doing joined up thinking required to run a country. Like, fuck every Tory with a cactus, obviously, but they did at least used to have competent, high calibre politicians, however evil and grotesque they were. David Cameron should die in a cesspit, but he was capable of remembering to put the bins out (before wage cutting the refuse collectors).
And therein lies the real problem: okay, BJ is gone, the party is in ruin, they're staring down the barrel of the most humiliating election defeat in history. They need someone competent that they all like who can take the reins and make people like them again.
But who's left?
There's no one. There's no one left. Not just because the remaining Tories are too low calibre to lead; they're too low calibre to even be able to pick someone without shrieking like cliquey little harridans on the playground about how the wrong in-group got in. Half of them are still BJ loyalists who hate anyone who criticise The Great Brexit Leader. The other half hate BJ for managing to make everyone hate the Tories so much that they're in this mess. Both halves are willing to sabotage the chosen leader of the other, locked in a battle of mutually assured destruction.
So how does Sunak fit into this?
He's unpopular in the party to a truly staggering degree, and not much better in the eyes of the public. He's tried to take a centrist stance on BJ, but that's actually just pissed off both sides. He did manage to stabilise the economy somewhat after the appalling mess Liz Truss threw it into, but he hasn't actually fixed it - we're still mid-cost of living crisis, we're still inexplicably not rich after Brexit like Boris prommied, inflation is still at an all time high as public services crash. The public hates him.
And he hasn't made the public stop hating the Tories. That petition calling for a GE is great, because it won't happen - BUT, it does force the issue to be debated in Parliament with opposition parties getting to stick the boot in, which means the humiliation continues. The Tories are starting to get desperate again.
And because this lot of Tories are, as mentioned, utterly terrible low-calibre political idiots, their response to this pressure has for the last four years been to oust the leader and get another.
And the first letters of no confidence have been sent into the 1922 Committee already. The devil moves fast, but knuckle dragging Tories with a fifth of a braincell each move faster.
And thanks to the absolute fucking state of them all... I cannot believe I'm saying these words, but genuinely the best person they have left who could possibly do the job is, of all fucking people, Michael Fucking Gove, and it won't even be him because he was mean to Boris once.
So yeah. I reckon Sunak may be out in six months. Fuck knows who we get instead. Probably Penny Mordaunt.
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lonicera-caprifolium · 8 months
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Body-swap theory!!
okay, just putting this all together for ease of access, since it's been spread out across several posts now--
The day after it aired I watched the ending like actually 30 times and I became fully 99.999999% certain they switched places. I was initially thinking during the kiss, cuz of how the camera angle changes, but after watching an additional 20 times a few days later, I'm personally leaning much more towards them stopping time in the instance after "no nightingales".
Before the kiss, Aziraphale is saying "nice" things about the Metatron, but his face and voice keep switching to broadcasting distress, and they make it a point to show in ep 1 that Crowley can read him just from tone of voice
As they're pulling away after the kiss, they lock eyes and "Aziraphale's" expression shifts in the teeniest tiniest way, like a confirmation glance, before they shift back (and Michael Sheen is a master, so no chance it's not on purpose)
---(Like really, go back and watch how Aziraphale's expression shifts literally *a second* before "I forgive you" cuz the change is SO minute, but entirely different emotionally.)
Also the way he moves his jaw right after he pulls his hand away from his lips, is a bit from MS's Crowley (you can see it in the very last two seconds of this vid- link)
Aziraphale's hands -stay by his sides- after that, he doesn't clasp them at all, and it's particularly noticeable while he's walking to the elevator with Metatron. The way he walks is very stiff and precise, similar to after the swap in S1.
We don't see the underside of Crowley's jacket collar after the kiss, at any point (it is for sure red at the beginning of the ep, you can see it right before he changes in Heaven)
The Bentley drives away SLOWLY, which is how Aziraphale drives, and we're specifically shown that it only plays other music for Aziraphale
the seats in the Bentley are black as it drives away. They're usually brown, and the only other time they're shown to be black is when Aziraphale drives (@picturesque-about-it broke down the times so you can see-link)
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---extra pic for anyone saying it's "cuz Aziraphale is lighter"-- the seats are still brown behind Crowley when he wears white
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there's people wearing yellow in -every- part of the scene showing the Bentley both before and while it drives away! (link for pics/credit)
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Aziraphale's smile in the elevator looks more like MS's Crowley. It's very similar to the trial during S1, but also (link)
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This also explains why they're on opposite sides than they're usually shown while the end credits roll
Extra points--
many good points made by other folks here, about cues and snakes in beehives and swap motifs throughout the season-- link
The clock! Someone mentioned how the scene is so quiet you can hear it ticking, so I watched the ending a further 50 times to double check----I need to preface this by stating, I don't think this is a working clock, mainly cuz the hands aren't 100% where they should be between the minutes and the hours, like -a person- moved them to that time manually
When they're talking, the clock is at approximately 9:25 (?, again the hour hand isn't precisely set), then they walk across the room, and kiss, and immediately after that the clock is set about 15-ish minutes later (link to timestamps)
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thanks to these bts shots, we can see that the clock on the opposite side of the room registers the SAME time difference before and after the kiss (link)
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the first time Aziraphale looks "towards the window", I'm petty sure he actually looks further back towards the clock, *focuses on it* as Metatron walks up to him, and then spends the ENTIRE REST OF THE EXCHANGE blocking the Metatron's view of the clock
we're shown earlier in the season that Crowley can localize his time-stopping to a certain extent, like when he stopped the doctor and the rest of the room kept going, so it is possible he only stopped everything -outside- of the bookshop
---I KNOW Neil said it's a continuity error, but he also fully said "No" about there being a season 2 just days before they announced it was already written and in production, so. Take him at his word if that's what you wanna do.
---also I DID go back and look it over, and the clock IS consistently specifically set the entire rest of the episode as far as I can see. From the shots when you have a clear view of the clock, the angels and demons enter the shop at around 6, Maggie and Nina leave at around 7, the Metatron comes in at 8-ish, Aziraphale comes back in at that approximately 9:25
(insight from someone who works in production- link)
the music right before the kiss scene is the same leitmotif (Life After Death) used when they originally started formulating the swap in season 1! (link)
the movie Stairway to Heaven (1946) is featured as a poster in both the opening credits and in Maggie's shop (link)
the climax of the film has one of the leads willing to "take the place" of the other in heaven
(they also used a time-stopping mechanic, and the chess book Gabriel tests gravity with also plays a key role in the film)
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and one last mention, extra food for thought--- the season's focus on their trusting one another, their history of performing "death (and heaven/hell) defying" feats together, and how they always get the trick right when it truly counts the most
that's what I've got so far!
If I'm right, they're apart now, but are actually more together then ever, and I find that terribly exciting. (And if I'm wrong, that's okay too! I'm just here to have fun.)
I'm not particularly concerned with very specific reasoning (that's for season 3 to tell us!), but I do think this theory is extra fun cuz pretty much any of the others could be the "why" driving it.
I'm not trying to convince anyone, or put down any of the other theories, so if you're not feeling it, that's okay! I'm just sharing what clues I'm seeing, so you can check if you see them too. 💕
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alwaysshallow · 4 months
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@bunnyreaper's secret santa thing; I had the pleasure to write for @cooliofango ❤️ I hope you're gonna have the best time reading this, love.
AO3 VERSION
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Simon isn't there—that's the first thing you notice, when you wake up.
You think it's odd; he always sticks around, especially in the morning. Either he is reading something in bed, a book or an article, or tries to wake you up, softly, kissing your arm, if it was past nine in the morning.
Right now, even his side of the bed is cold, so he had to leave at least an hour ago, maybe more. You get up with a slight frown on your face, multiple questions in the back of your mind, what possibly could bring Simon out of bed. There's many thoughts, and they aren't really positive; usually if he had to leave, it was something military related. A missile missing, someone to rescue, intel to get or secure.
Being with Riley made you realize how fucked up the world is and how many times it needs to be saved. This time though, in theory, he has vacations that he asked for. Holidays with his girlfriend, he said, which caused you to grin like crazy one, since you loved this term. His girlfriend, his significant other with whom he decided to spend time with, even if he doesn't like holidays.
It's main reason why you aren't really doing anything festive this year; out of respect to him. Sure, you spend more time together, you plan to watch movies tonight, make some food, but nothing really related to Christmas. No lights, no tree, nothing what could possibly trigger his memory with the holidays and make the time worse than it already was.
But now, your boyfriend is nowhere to be seen, and your plans are under a big question mark. You don't even know where he is, if he is here, in your shared house that you've decided to buy a few months ago.
"Baby?" you call out, looking around. There's a few boxes laying on the ground, door is wide-open; if you wouldn't know any better, you'd assume that somebody broke in. Knowing your boyfriend though, how he secured the house... hell, it takes only one wrong move and alarm goes off, as Simon said once, shortly after he installed it.
So, door wide-open, bringing in the cold, clear indicator that he actually is here somewhere. And, sooner than later, you'll see him.
You prefer sooner than later, though, so you go through the door, just to see your man with a tree—Christmas tree, to be precise—with shocked expression on his face. Then, he puts it down, just to sneak his arms around you, tight. Just like he loved to do, practically from the start of your relationship.
For a military man, he is very touch starved, and you try every time to give him the love he deserves.
"You didn't wake me," you murmur into his broad chest, at which he chuckles. You look up at him, seeing his brown eyes sparkling.
"Sorry, love. Had to take care of some things," he says, his hand caressing your back delicately. "But 'm here now. Let's go to bed, yeah?"
"Oh, no, no," you laugh, shaking your head. "I want to know why there's a Christmas tree here. And those boxes? Seems like decorations to me, Mr. Riley."
He acts like you caught him red handed on something; Simon looks away and sighs, just to look at you a few seconds later with a semi-guilty look on his face. You have to hold back a laugh; he seems so stressed about something simple, it's adorable.
"I don't like Christmas," he starts, playing with your hair. "But I know you like 'em. Your eyes sparkle every time you see this shit, lights, trees, everythin' and—"
"—Simon, we don't have to—"
"—let me finish." He looks at you, a bit sternly, so you nod. You have to listen to him, especially if he asks you to. "And I just can't do this to you. Take it away from you. 'm a grown man, it's time to change some things. 'specially those hurtful ones."
You gnaw at your bottom lip, silent for a few seconds, as you try to collect your thoughts about this situation. It's hard not to cry right now, given how he overcomes his own weaknesses, just for you. Just for the both of you, so your future will be brighter.
"You are," you cup his cheeks into your hands, "the best man I've ever, ever met. I'm so lucky to have you, you know? A man that's willing to spend Christmas with me the traditional way, to
“You can't say this shit to me,” he warns, his voice almost a whisper. You raise your eyebrow, but you don't stop kissing his jaw, even when he sighs.
"Because that's so bad? Or because that's the truth and you'll blush any second?" you ask teasingly, at which he rolls his eyes with a small smile on his lips. To see his smile, to see how happy you can make him... you cherish every moment like that, knowing his history. Knowing how hard it was, how hard it still is because demons doesn't go easily.
Yet, you see the progress. His battle, to be more open, to allow himself to be more vulnerable at least around you.
“You��re gonna make me even more addicted," he explains to you, kissing your face a few times. He bangs with his nose against your eyeglasses, but he doesn't really seem to mind. "And I’m already weak. It's like... you're something that I’m not immune to. Everyone will see that later, on that Christmas party.”
He doesn’t say he loves you. That would be crazy, he thinks; every time he told someone he loves them, they died. He doesn't want it to happen with you, not when he didn't think of an idea how to possibly save you, keep you safe and locked, close to his heart.
But he can’t deny that you have him wrapped around your finger and you always will. Task Force 141 knows about you, they even invited you two to the Christmas party later, but the l-word has to wait. You know that he loves you anyway; maybe he doesn't say it, but his actions shows you enough love. And, he has other words—be safe, you know I care about you.
It speaks louder than simple I love you but he knows he's gonna say it. He has to, even for your sake.
"That's good. I love you being addicted." You grin, hugging him even tighter. "Because I'm addicted to you as well. To my big, wonderful boyfriend. Now... about those Christmas decorations."
You wouldn't think that decorating your shared house with Simon would be so fun and chaotic in the same time. Your boyfriend does the lights—since his height abilities are just insane—and you are basically running around with snowmen, reindeers and other creatures that you somehow can associate with winter. Riley also gives you disapproval looks from time to time, telling you to dress yourself properly, as you're just on your pyjamas; it ends up in you being in his big, warm hoodie, since you don't listen.
It's like everything you dreamed for, in domestic matter.
The best is taking care of the tree, though. You two have different ideas—yours with doing it in two colors that compliment each other, red and gold for example, which would give the glamour vibe of the house. Or, Simon's idea which is complete chaos. He looks so happy with placing the ornaments, that you don't tell him about color theory, you don't suggest making it less colorful either.
You just put everything just like he is, with instinct, and when he asks about your opinion, you can't help but smile widely and praise him for being creative. His enjoyment gives you the time of your life, honestly.
"You do it like it's in your blood," you say, laughing happily when he gives your cheek a big, wet kiss. His arms locks around you automatically, his lips dropping a bit lower.
"'st because of you. My girl," he purrs. "Maybe we should take a break and eat somethin', eh? Something Christmas-y."
"Christmas-y?" you repeat, observing with a small smile stomach how he drags you over to the couch, towering over you. He has absolutely no problem with crashing you with his weight, which feels so good considering how warm he is. "What would you like?"
"Anything my woman wants, I'll eat. My civilian woman."
You can't help the sensation of your heart fluttering at this view; at Simon kissing your knuckles, at Simon being so affectionate. You are sure that you haven't seen him like this before, not this open with his feelings.
"Yours. That civilian woman, for a superordinary man," you say, quietly.
“My civilian woman.” Simon’s eyes shine as he repeats your words, a light smirk forming as he gazes down at you. You really are gorgeous, so beautiful as you're there in his arms. "'m not superordinary, but I guess I'll take it."
He reaches over to remote, turning off the light in the room. Now, all that’s illuminated is the moonlight and sparkling, multicolor Christmas lights, casting a pale ray of light in the darkness.
Before he loses himself in your eyes, he leans over and presses his mouth to yours. It’s a slow, quiet, yet passionate kiss—one that sparks a fire in both your souls.
"That sounds very dorky, if you think about it," you chuckle quietly, still keeping his gaze. His brown eyes are fixed on yours, glimmering so gently, you can't help but be lost in them. God, it's even better when he turned off the light. You don't see each other properly, but the dark figures are adding everything to your imagination, when you continue this slow kiss.
You can only hear your lips smacking against each other.
“You’re perfect to me,” he says, his voice husky as he gazes down at you. You make his heart flutter. You always do, but lately, those butterflies have turned into something else, as he told you a dew days ago. "The most perfect woman in the world. Even if it's cheesy, as you say."
"You're such a cheesy man, Riley," you whisper, as you smile at his sudden comment how you are perfect to him. Knowing that he's not the best with words, and still says something like this, was just the most important thing for you. "But I like that in you. Just as much as your soft spot for those romcoms we watch. Even if you call them sappy and cringe," you say, closing your eyes.
"They are sappy and cringe. But it's our type of sappy and cringe," he murmurs into your skin, burying his face in your neck. Right in this moment, he doesn't seem to care about anything else.
And you don't care about anything else either, when you have him right by your side. Safe and secure, far from deployment, far from all those dangerous things probably just waiting for him out there.
"I love you," he whispers.
And you know you have your gift.
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transmutationisms · 9 months
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how do i know what’s right?
i feel like i have zero critical thinking skills ;-;
a lot of the time when someone poses an idea or a theory they think they’re right, and so they use language that enforces that. but then someone refutes it, and uses language affirming what they believe and i see the point in their argument. and then it gets refuted again and again and again and im just confused.
hi great question. i would love it if there were a single easy litmus test to figure out who's 'right' and whose info i should trust! unfortunately things are rarely this easy, and it's actually completely normal to be overwhelmed by the amount of information being produced and shared, especially when it comes to topics you haven't researched/lived/etc. for most of us, this will be most topics!
i'd preface this by saying that i think your overall attitude here is actually a good one. you're framing it in a pretty self-deprecating way—but actually, imo this type of openness to discussion and disagreement is a really good place to start, esp when dealing with topics that are new to you. nobody enters a contentious debate with a fully fledged, defensible viewpoint. you might feel like you're just treading water here, making no progress toward being able to evaluate arguments for yourself, but i highly doubt that's true.
all of that said: while i again cannot give you a single litmus test for figuring out what's 'right', there are four pretty basic sets of questions that i automatically run through when encountering a new idea, source, topic, or argument: we can call these origin, purpose, value, and limitations.
origin: who's the author? do they have any institutional affiliations? who pays their salary? is this argument or paper funded in any way? is the argument dependent upon the author's social position or status (race, class, etc) and if so, are those factors being discussed clearly? does the author have ties to a particular nation-state or stakes in defending such a nation-state? what's the class character of the author and the argument? what's the social, economic, and intellectual context that gave rise to this argument or source?
purpose: why is this source or person disseminating this information or making this argument? are they trying to sell you anything? are their funders? are they trying to persuade you of a particular political viewpoint? keeping in mind the answers to the 'origin' questions, are there particular ideological positions you would expect to find in this source or argument, and are they present? what are the stakes for the author or source? what about for those who cite the source or further disseminate or publish it?
value: what does this source or argument accomplish well? what aspects of the argument are new to you and strike you as insightful? are there linkages being made that you haven't encountered elsewhere, and that you think are effectively and sufficiently defended? are there statistics or empirical data that might be useful to you in forming your own argument, even if you disagree with how this source or author is interpreting them? what does this argument or source tell you about the types of debates being had, and the rules of those debates?
limitations: where does this argument or source fail you or fall apart? are there obvious rhetorical fallacies you can identify? is the author forgetting or overlooking some piece of information that you know of from elsewhere? which viewpoints may be omitted? keeping in mind the answers to the 'purpose' questions, if this source is defending a particular ideology or political position, is that one you agree with? is it only defensible so long as the author omits or distorts certain pieces of information? are there points where the argument jumps from evidence to a conclusion that the evidence can't fully support? are there alternative explanations for the evidence?
over time you will often find that it becomes more and more automatic to ask yourself these questions. you will also find that the more you read/hear about a particular topic, the faster you can determine whether someone is presenting all of the evidence, presenting it fairly, and using it to fully defend the argument they ultimately want to make. and you will probably also find that at some point, you're able to synthesise your own argument by pulling the strong parts from multiple other people's viewpoints, combining them with your own thinking, and fitting them together in a way that adequately explains and materially analyses the issue at hand.
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senawashere · 1 month
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Carolina?
Summary: Who is Carolina? Is she the other woman? And why Bradley is talking about her in his sleep?
A/n: I wrote this like 2 or 3 years ago for another character and i wanted to post again🤭
Warnings: tooth rutting fluff actually. Maybe a bit angst. And a bit smutt at the end. Hehehehe.
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Bradley always talked in his sleep,most of life. So you were ok with it. But one night,everything chances.
You slowly wake up to a chill in the air, realizing that Bradley has closed most of the windows once again, as usual.
The room is dark, and the digital clock on your nightstand shows 4:28; you've only been asleep for four hours.
As you turn to the side, you see Bradley curled up in the blankets, lying on his side with his back turned to you. You approach him, pulling the blanket closer for warmth, and snuggle up to your husband, wrapping your arm around his abdomen. You drift back to sleep with you melting in his embrace, emitting a low, soft purr from his curled lips.
He feels so warm and resilient against you that you bury your face into his back, inhaling his scent, placing a few kisses on his shoulder blades before laying your head on the pillow. You hear Bradley's gentle murmurs as he returns to his dreams. When you open your eyes, you lift your head slightly, leaning towards him in hopes of understanding what he's saying, but his words are jumbled.
"Brad?" you whisper, wondering if he's about to wake up.
"Baby..." he murmurs, and then you hear something inconsistent.
"I'm here," you say softly, kissing his shoulder. He usually calls you "baby," so you assume he's talking to you.
"Baby... My baby..." he repeats, and as you smile at the thought of him dreaming about you, everything shatters with a single word.
"Carolina... Carolina, baby… my…girl"
Wait a second, who is Carolina?
It wakes you up faster than an alarm. As you sit up, looking at your still-sleeping husband, talking about someone named Carolina in his dreams, you're left puzzled. You don't know anyone by that name, so she must be someone Bradley knows, and that's concerning.
"Carolina... beautiful..." the words spill from his lips, almost inaudible but piercing your ears like a punch to the chest.
Lately, he's been so confused, but you haven't thought much about it, attributing it to all the work he put into his job and getting promoted. However, now you see it in a different light.
And yes you know his mother’s name is Carol but the problem is Carol and Carolina are not the same.
Or are they? No probably not.
Could Bradley be spending time with another woman? The thought of him cheating on you didn't cross your mind. Everything seemed so perfect; you were planning the moving somewhere else next summer, and he didn't seem regretful of his decision to marry you.
But then who is Carolina? And if she invaded his dreams, how important could she be? More important than you? It made your stomatch flip.
Afterward, you struggled to sleep, tossing and turning in bed for hours.
Bradley stops talking afterward, turning his face up, and while you lie awake next to him, going through every possible theory in your mind, he simply sleeps peacefully, unaware of your racing thoughts. As the sun begins to rise on the horizon, you're already out of bed, perched on a kitchen stool with your laptop, hoping to find a clue Bradley left behind as you delve into the history.
But what if he's really doing this? If he's cheating on you, he wouldn't be foolish enough to get caught like this. Right?
You make tea and reluctantly check his socials that he follows almost everyone he knows. You hate stalking your husband with the thought of him cheating on you but now you want to know if something strange is happening. Unfortunately, or fortunately, nothing suspicious comes up. Most of the accounts are from people who works with, either with people you know,his old friends, or his family members and some of his dads old friends.
No sign of another woman.
That’s good. Right?
Bradley wakes up to an empty bed. It's strange that you're not cuddling him or holding onto him like a koala bear. He blinks his swollen eyes a few times, adjusting to the low light, and straightens the other side of the bed where your body used to rest. Since the room isn't even that cold, he knows you've been up for a while.
Yawning and rubbing his eyes, he throws on a sweatshirt and slowly exits the room, sliding his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants. He notices you immediately, curled up on the edge of the couch, looking out of the window. Your forehead is creased, indicating something is bothering you.
"Hey, honey, the bed was cold without you," he murmurs, walking towards you with slow steps, sitting beside you on the couch near the window.
You look at him, your jaw clenched,on verge of tears and even though you didn't want to start like this, the truth about the morning overwhelms you.
"Who is Carolina?"
Confusion is evident on his face. It's not the kind of thing that someone doesn't know what or who is being talked about. Carolina is a real person, and Bradley knows exactly who she is.
"What's this about now?" he asks, leaning back, putting some distance between you two, his arm dropping over the back of the couch,confusion is clearly visible all over his face.
"Do you know anyone named Carolina?" you push, narrowing your eyes.
"I do... well, I mean... it's not what you think honey really..."
"You talk in your sleep, Bradley."
"What?" his eyes widen.
"You often murmur incoherently, but last night, you kept repeating the name Carolina, and... you even called her baby. You called her baby! You only call me baby. "
The revelation dawns on him as you watch, and he takes a slow breath, exhaling gently. This is going to be more complicated than you anticipated.
"I'm telling you, but promise not to think I've lost my mind, okay?"
"You're scaring me, Bradley," you breathe out. "Tell me. Please."
"Okay, okay," he says, inhaling deeply and then nodding slightly. "Do you remember... the day when we thought you might be pregnant, about like five months ago?"
"Of course, I remember," you nod,biting your lip.
Your period was late, and you had vomited in the morning. Bradley had taken a test, and you both sat on the cold tile floor of the bathroom, waiting for the results. It came back negative.
You felt relieved, but a part of you wondered how it would have been if you were pregnant. Something in your head told you it wouldn't have been a big deal, but the timing wasn't right because you two were just about to get married and it would have been nice to get married first before having a baby.
"A few days after that... I had a dream."
"A dream?" You furrow your brows, unsure where this is going.
"Yeah. It was about you and me, and... we had a baby. A little girl. It wasn't something crazy; you were breastfeeding her in our bed, and I was watching you, and then I was holding her, rocking her to sleep and she was sleeping in my arms... It felt real, and when I woke up... I felt like something was missing."
You listen to him carefully, your lower lip tense, and your heart pounding in your chest.
"Since then, I've been having similar dreams. At least twice a week. Always the same baby, always with you inside, but we do different things. Sometimes we bathe her,sometimes we play tickling,sometimes we walk in the park, and sometimes she sleeps in a stroller... Once my mom and dad were in it and one time I saw Mav and Penny too, God, it felt so real," he confesses with a shaky breath. "The last few times, we didn't even have her with us. We gave her a name."
"Carolina? Her name is Carolina?" you softly ask, pushing yourself closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"Yes. She looks a lot like you, but her eyes are like mine. A perfect mix of both of us, and... I couldn't shake it off. Sometimes I wake up after a dream, and I feel like something has been taken away from us, it feels so real,I miss her even though I don't know her."
"Why didn't you tell me about these dreams, Baby?" you whisper, placing a small kiss on his shoulder.
"It felt super foolish, and I didn't know how it would make you feel. I knew we talked about trying for a baby after the wedding, and I thought bringing it up would upset you," he shrugs, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.
As you sit on the couch, silence falls between you two, your head resting on his chest, his arms around you. This wasn't the outcome you expected. None of your theories came close to the truth Bradley just revealed.
"I was thinking about the same thing...for a while." you say.
"About what?"
"About having a baby. If the test had come back positive, how would it have been?"
"And...?" He leans back to look into your eyes.
"I wouldn't have aborted it," you admit honestly, and Bradley takes a slow breath, gently kissing your forehead. "Do you want to... start trying for a baby before we talk about,Bradley?"
"It can wait," he replies, looking as if he's afraid to say something that might upset you. "If we continue what we're doing, it's okay..."
"But I want to know what you want, Bradley. Tell me."
He takes a deep breath, running his tongue over his lips before speaking.
"I think I want it." The way your heart explodes at his words is undeniable. Realizing that he feels exactly the same way now brings tears to your eyes.
"It would probably mean a blow to the squad if we start now and succeed," you laugh, watching his eyes glimmer.
"That would be the best thing that ever happened," he chuckles, confessing, "just the thought of going on adventures while our baby grows under your heart... God, I could just cry just thinking about it."
"So," you grin, slyly teasing him as you hold his chin with one hand. "Carolina?"
"It could be something else if it's a boy."
"I like it," you murmur, nodding. "We can add it to the list. But before we start making lists, we should probably start trying for a baby, don't you think?"
He doesn't need more encouragement. As you both laugh and kiss, you find yourselves in your bedroom in an instant, clothes flying off as you fall onto the bed. Giving him a passionate kiss before he undresses you, you can't help but whisper, "I love you."
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Ekkkk full of cuteness🥹🥹
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