#go tag

[babysgarage]

crowley is a sappy romantic bitch he listens to pale blue eyes when he's alone, he cues up a song about angels dining at the ritz when taking his angel on a date to the ritz, he goes back to get a statue from the church in 1941, he grabs a book from aziraphale's bookshop while it's burning as a memento, he wants to run away to alpha century together bc it's nice, he has aziraphale's likes and dislikes and scents memorized, good old fashioned lover boy anthony jacts of service crowley aka the demonic equivalent of a heart locket

[bearfeathers]

can i just

can i just say that the placement of gabriel's hands mirrors the spots where he enjoyed feeling the hot chocolate he drank

like h

he feels warm in his chest and his stomach when he sees beelzebub

[1tbls]

good omens s2 thots

it was cheesy as all hell. what was even the message. the humor and narrative seemed even more dumbed down than season 1. the pacing wasn't great. the ending feels like backsliding and is a little annoying even though i love the drama of it. jesus fucking christ they kissed. the gabriel/beezlebub stuff was unearned and ooc like okay.

all that said. most of the cheese was lovable cheese. i had a fun time watching (with @draftdodgeraziraphale ♥️) and enjoyed michael and david's performances. i loved the a/c coffeeshop au lesbians. jesus fucking christ they kissed.

mixed bag: season 3??????

[kvothes]

so true

[shadesofmauve]

I want to step away from the art-vs-artist side of the Gaiman issue for a bit, and talk about, well, the rest of it. Because those emotions you're feeling would be the same without the art; the art just adds another layer.

Source: I worked with a guy who turned out to be heavily involved in an international, multi-state sex-slavery/trafficking ring.

He was really nice.

Yeah.

It hits like a dumptruck of shit. You don't feel stable in your world anymore. How could someone you interacted with, liked, also be a truly horrible person? How could your judgement be that bad? How can real people, not stylized cartoon bogeymen, be actually doing this shit?

You have to sit with the fact that you couldn't, or probably couldn't, have known. You should have no guilt as part of this horror ��� but guilt is almost certainly part of that mess you're feeling, because our brains do this associative thing, and somehow "I liked [the version of] the guy [that I knew]", or his creations, becomes "I made a horrible mistake and should feel guilty."

You didn't, loves, you didn't.

We're human, and we can only go by the information we have. And the information we have is only the smallest glimpse into someone else's life.

I didn't work closely with the guy I knew at work, but we chatted. He wasn't just nice; he was one of the only people outside my tiny department who seemed genuinely nice in a workplace that was rapidly becoming incredibly toxic. He loaned me a bike trainer. Occasionally he'd see me at the bus stop and give me a lift home.

Yup. I was a young woman in my twenties and rode in this guy's car. More than once.

When I tell this story that part usually makes people gasp. "You must feel so scared about what could have happened to you!" "You're so lucky nothing happened!"

No, that's not how it worked. I was never in danger. This guy targeted Korean women with little-to-no English who were coerced and powerless. A white, fluent, US citizen coworker wasn't a potential victim. I got to be a person, not prey.

Y'know that little warning bell that goes off, when you're around someone who might be a danger to you? That animal sense that says "Something is off here, watch out"?

Yeah, that doesn't ping if the preferred prey isn't around.

That's what rattled me the most about this. I liked to think of myself as willing to stand up for people with less power than me. I worked with Japanese exchange students in college and put myself bodily between them and creeps, and I sure as hell got that little alarm when some asian-schoolgirl fetishist schmoozed on them. But we were all there.

I had to learn that the alarm won't go off when the hunter isn't hunting. That it's not the solid indicator I might've thought it was. That sometimes this is what the privilege of not being prey does; it completely masks your ability to detect the horrors that are going on.

A lot of people point out that 'people like that' have amazing charisma and ability to lie and manipulate, and that's true. Anyone who's gotten away with this shit for decades is going to be way smoother than the pathetic little hangers-on I dealt with in university. But it's not just that. I seriously, deeply believe that he saw me as a person, and he did not extend personhood to his victims. We didn't have a fake coworker relationship. We had a real one. And just like I don't know the ins-and-outs of most of my coworkers lives, I had no idea that what he did on his down time was perpetrate horrors.

I know this is getting off the topic, but it's so very important. Especially as a message to cis guys: please understand that you won't recognize a creep the way you might think you will. If you're not the preferred prey, the hind-brain alarm won't go off. You have to listen to victims, not your gut feeling that the person seems perfectly nice and normal. It doesn't mean there's never a false accusation, but face the fact that it's usually real, and you don't have enough information to say otherwise.

So, yeah. It fucking sucks. Writing about this twists my insides into tense knots, and it was almost a decade ago. I was never in danger. No one I knew was hurt!

Just countless, powerless women, horrifically abused by someone who was nice to me.

You don't trust your own judgement quite the same way, after. And as utterly shitty as it is, as twisted up and unstead-in-the-world as I felt the day I found out — I don't actually think that's a bad thing.

I think we all need to question our own judgement. It makes us better people.

I don't see villains around every corner just because I knew one, once. But I do own the fact that I can't know, really know, about anyone except those closest to me. They have their own full lives. They'll go from the pinnacles of kindness to the depths of depravity — and I won't know.

It's not a failing. It's just being human. Something to remember before you slap labels on people, before you condemn them or idolize them. Think about how much you can't know, and how flawed our judgement always is.

Grieve for victims, and the feeling of betrayal. But maybe let yourself off the hook, and be a bit slower to skewer others on it.

[heyitsnaardi]

it's too early to be provoking this way ffs

part 2??

[tawnysoup]

Finally now that the comic is fully public on comicfury, I get to share it with all of you here, too <3

If you enjoyed, please consider supporting by buying a PDF of the comic on itch.io: https://tawnysoup.itch.io/home-in-the-woods

[irate-iguana]

For those who don’t know, Elon Musk has recently been directing his assholery towards Wikipedia — calling them ‘Wokepedia’ due to the amount they spend on Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion, and calling for people to stop giving them money “until they restore balance to their editing authority” —, now is a great time to consider donating to Wikipedia!

[pookapufferfish]

[evidently-endless]

i think we should remind musicians they can absolutely make up little stories for their songs btw. it doesn’t have to be about them at all. you can invent a guy and put him in situations to music. time honoured tradition in fact.

[babysgarage]

hold on

i know that fucking symbol

im pretty sure the one in aziraphale's place is like a portal to heaven tho but this is obviously A Thing in angel-related fiction so does anyone know the origin of it

[bearfeathers]

63 for Ineffable bureaucracy :3

“Well, somebody’s in love.”

Gabriel frowns at the bartender’s words and glances around the establishment. Sure he can feel some love radiating from certain patrons, but nothing that particularly jumps out at him and certainly nothing which would lead an ordinary human to take notice. Typically, the statement wouldn’t give him any sort of pause, but something about tonight…

He can feel the matchbox secure where he’d put it, in his breast pocket. Every now and again its new tenant buzzes about, the vibrations against his chest feeling something like a heartbeat. (He is admittedly not entirely certain what a heartbeat is supposed to feel like, but he figures he’s probably right. He usually is, after all.)

Maybe that’s what leads him to ask, “You think so?”

This turned out way fucking longer than I anticipated LMAO. So the rest is on AO3!

[maureen-corpse]

One thing they don’t tell you about sewing is that it is actually ironing

[aznisure]

something something digital footprint

[gemsandjunk]

the two types of billford content

[cornpapers]