#i know the phrasing on the first one isn't one for one but

[kraftykelpie]

Originally a concept from "after the war" where Cody and Obi-Wan are discussing their long-term future goals, but it fits @codywancomfort as well!

I wrote fanfic in the tags so I had to rewrite it all here, below the cut! <3

“I've been thinking about what you said-” Cody makes an inquisitive noise in response, his eyes shut in bliss, rubbing circles into Obi-Wan's hip, his other hand playing with russet strands “-about children.”

Cody's eyes shoot open and his left hand stops in its motions, albeit briefly.

“I thought I wanted to take on another Padawan after Anakin, but I wonder if that emptiness was something I hadn't felt since Korkie, and-” he takes a breath. “- I miss that. I missed that with Korkie. That growth, watching that life form and become something of your own to watch grow into a fully recognized being of their own right.”

Cody takes a deep breath to avoid accidentally inhaling too sharply and choking on spit. He did that once after Obi-Wan winked at him on the bridge of the Negotiator. It was embarrassing.

He looks imploringly at Obi-Wan, letting Obi-Wan take his time getting his thoughts out. Cody doesn't need to add anything, Obi-Wan already knows about his ruminations about little cadets and wanting to raise one, no need to beat crumpled clankers about it.

“Darling, if you'll have me-”

He's cut off my Cody, honest to Karl, giggling and pulling Obi-Wan close. He buries his head in the crook of Obi-Wan's shoulder, while muffled, going,

“It'd be more strategically sound if we got married first though, don't y’think?” He presses a kiss into Obi-Wan's shoulder. Obi-Wan chuckles at the phrasing as Cody moves to sit up.

It's spur of the moment, really. Anakin won't be pleased with his former master exchanging mandalorian marriage vows post-coitus; though Anakin isn't really allowed to judge is he? He got secretly married and didn't invite his master, so fair's fair, really.

The vows had been a long time coming, and it was a wonder that they hadn't said them sooner. Though, the ongoings of a Republic changed by war and internal corruption had made it difficult to get married, between one half of the pair working hard with the Jedi Order to try and restructure systems that should have been in place a long-time ago, and the other off championing Vodé rights delegations alongside Rex (who's leading the charge).

Now's as good a time as any.

Obi-Wan smiles up at Cody, and dryly posits “ suppose we should make it official before we go announcing pregnancies, hm?”

Cody, lit by the artificial Sun of Coruscant, looks down at Obi-Wan with all the reverence and heartfelt adoration of a patron to their god.

“That'd be a good idea”.

[pikahlua]

Hi, Pika. Saw a post on my feed about how the "rest of our lives" quote by Katsuki from the last chapter of MHA means something similarly close to a marriage proposal in Japan/Japanese. Linguistically (culturally?), is there truth or basis to that claim? You never fail to provide the cultural nuances that most translations of MHA offer so I thought to ask you about this. Thank you for your response. Have a great day.

I don't know the post you're talking about, so I don't know what points they were trying to make, but if it helps, Katsuki doesn't say "for the rest of our lives" in Japanese. He says "zutto kono mama" which means "[stay] like this forever." The word choice particularly emphasizes that Katsuki's belief was that their present circumstances--their competing with each other--wouldn't change. The fact that things are changing, that Izuku is losing One For All, that they can't compete in the same way going forward, is what he's lamenting. He dreamed of always continuing on the way they had before.

As for the linguistics of marriage in Japanese, sure, there are formal or traditional ways of popping the question, but those don't include this phrase from Katsuki. That said, proposals can be just as creative in Japan as anywhere. It just depends on the couple and their history together, their way of being with each other. Those things will ultimately determine how the proposal will look and sound. There are proposals based on popular song lyrics about marriage, and there are confessions of love made to be more indirect and poetic than "I love you," but people also do sometimes say "Shall we get married?" and "I love you."

There's nothing about Katsuki's declaration that says "This is the Japanese way to propose," but that's partly because there isn't one Japanese way to propose in the first place. There are some customs many people are likely to follow, but many other couples will be just as likely to break from some of them and do things in a way that makes sense to them. And in THAT sense, Katsuki's declaration is profound. We're not meant to think "marriage marriage marriage" here. We're meant to think "This is a huge acknowledgement by Katsuki of his relationship and desires with respect to Izuku, and it is so quintessentially THEM." It's specific. It's cathartic. It's satisfying. It's special and unique to the characters they are. It's something Katsuki can say that carries such meaning but that also cannot have the same meaning when applied to any other two people.

[calitsnow]

Let's talk about why Hong Lu’s left eye (his jade) is getting dimmer and what are the powers and characteristics of Jia Baoyu's jade in Dream of the Red Chamber.

Today, I would like to discuss Dante’s mysterious phrase about Hong Lu, taking the opportunity to explore the jade of Jia Baoyu in more detail, especially its powers and the influence it exerts over Jia Baoyu. Here is the structure of the discussion:

Does the light of Hong Lu symbolize his break from his false reality?

Does the light of Hong Lu symbolize the end of his journey and his will to "live"?

The appearance of Jia Baoyu's jade and its powers + their loss and how they are regained

Its connection with Jia Baoyu

Brief conclusion

Does the light of Hong Lu symbolize his break from his false reality?

In Canto VII, a phrase from Dante naturally captured the attention of all Hong Lu theorists. Dante observes the following thing about Hong Lu’s eye:

"I noticed that the light in Hong Lu's left eye was growing dimmer, like light fading away as it sinks into the depths of the dark waters…"

But what does this mean? To answer that, we must first determine what this light signifies before interpreting its disappearance. For that, we need to consider the dialogue preceding Dante’s remark—the words of Hong Lu himself when he speaks about the sparkling in Don Quixote’s eyes:

"Isn't Don Quixote the most lucid one out of all of us?" "Her eyes, Dante. Always twinkling like two bright stars. They're so fascinating."

To Hong Lu, the glow in the eyes seems to be linked to clarity of mind and awareness. To him, Don Quixote is the most lucid of all because her eyes twinkle like two bright stars. Yet we know this is inaccurate, as Don Quixote is immersed in the illusion she created by erasing her memory at this point. So, it’s reasonable to suspect that Hong Lu's interpretation might be flawed.

This is also consistent with what we know about Hong Lu. Despite his frequent insightful observations and quick understanding of reality, his judgment can sometimes be clouded by his upbringing. After all, one of the first things we learn about him is that his view of the world and his interpretations can be distorted by his sheltered life.

Are we, therefore, dealing with a case where Hong Lu’s upbringing prevents him from perceiving the truth?

Don Quixote’s reality is an illusion, much like Hong Lu’s appears to be. But because he sees his form of reality reflected in Don Quixote’s, he can only conclude that Don Quixote’s twinkling eyes are an expression of clarity when it might actually be the opposite. This could foreshadow Hong Lu’s arc of breaking away from his past, family, and conditioning, realizing that what he associates with reality might be a lie, simply because he didn’t know any better.

After all, Dulcinea connects the term "naive" with Don Quixote’s twinkling eyes, (and "naive" is the adjective used for Hong Lu):

"I almost prefer that naive look from earlier. I still hated your eyes, twinkling or not, but…"

To clarify what “naive” implies, I like relying on The Walking Dead 4’s definition: Naive means you think a certain way because you don’t know the way it really is.

I find this perfectly matches how naivety is understood in the world of Limbus Company, even if we cannot be certain of that. But if we accept that this definition applies to “naive” in Project moon’s world, then being naive implies both innocence—almost childlike—and living in a lie or denial of reality.

Additionally, the emphasis on the sparkles might support the theory of the moonstone, or that Hong Lu is connected to the abnormality Yang, as it involves disregarding reality (to avoid mental breakdown). But we are not here to talk about that.

Thus, if Hong Lu is mistaken, and the twinkling represents disillusionment and denial of reality, then the more Hong Lu's eye sparkles, the more he’s immersed in illusion, a false sense of truth.

So, the first reason Hong Lu’s eye is dimming could be that he’s beginning to realize his reality wasn’t true, symbolizing the start of his awakening. After all, even Vergilius reacted with « … » to Hong Lu’s remark so it could mean that he knows that Hong Lu is in the wrong.

So, if the glow represents the jade influences on Hong Lu’s mental state and perception of reality, then the dimming of his jade’s light might signify that he’s starting to break free from this mental crutch. However this is not what I believe in…

Does the light of Hong Lu symbolize the end of his journey and his will to "live"?

What bothers me is that Dante describes the dimming of Hong Lu’s eye light in a rather pessimistic, almost fatalistic way, as though Hong Lu is fading along with his jade's light, loosing himself:

"I noticed that the light in Hong Lu's left eye was growing dimmer, like light fading away as it sinks into the depths of the dark waters…"

So, if this dimming light is a symbol of breaking free from an illusion why does Dante describe this so negatively with an emphasis on the idea of loosing Hong Lu? Maybe because, it is indeed a bad omen.

According to what Dulcinea says, Don Quixote's eyes were empty of light before when she was Sancho, this absence of twinkling at the time seems to be linked to the fact that Don Quixote/Sancho does not really believe in life and has already suffered too much from the latter. Dad Quixote then offers her a new life and hopes to bring those stars into her eyes by giving her a new family and then inviting her to participate in her adventures with him.

If we follow this analysis, then the light in Hong Lu’s eye equals his will to live and optimism about the future. So if this light is fading, does that mean Hong Lu is beginning to lose the will to live?

Well, yes, I think so... but in a very specific way.

Hear me out, Hong Lu’s eye is dimming because he’s aware his journey is nearing its end, that 7 of the 12 sinners have already regained their golden boughs, and that he may be the next:

Hong Lu’s day is ending, and it is reflected in his eye. I would even go so far as to say Hong Lu, in some way (without being aware of it), equates his return home with the end of his life (this life of new experiences and in the City, and this life with freedom).

So, this take is much more of a speculation than the last one, but if we stick with the idea that twinkling = will to live (forward) then Hong Lu started his journey in a new world with a bright eye with expectations and a desire to live new experiences, but he knows that one day he will have to return home, he knows that his journey will end one day and therefore it is normal that the closer Hong Lu gets to his golden bough moment the more the light of his eye fades, since this will be the end of his "new experiences".

Which could also echo Hong Lu's suicidal tendencies.

But then, why does Hong Lu’s eye produce sparks during Bloodfiend Hunter, Liu Story, and Yurodivy Story?

And it is now, that I would like to propose something. What if we separated the glow of Hong Lu’s eye and the sparks it produces: What if these two manifestations relate to different things? If Hong Lu’s glow reflects his mental state, then perhaps the sparks represent an effect of his jade’s power.

This leads me to discuss Jia Baoyu’s jade, both to support this analysis and to share information about the stone and its powers for those who might not have time to read the novel.

The appearance of Jia Baoyu's jade and its powers + their loss and how they are regained

In Chapter 8, Jia Baoyu’s jade is described as follows:

The size of a sparrow egg (about 22.5 mm)

Shining like a bright coppery cloud

Smooth and lustrous like marbled cream.

On the jade’s face is inscribed:

"Precious Gem of Spiritual Perception (also called Precious Jade of Spiritual Understanding). If thou wilt lose me not and never forget me, Eternal life and constant luck will be with thee!"

This means the stone is a talisman of protection and happiness. If Baoyu (or whoever holds it) keeps it close and never forgets it, they will be blessed with a long, prosperous life.

The reverse side reads:

"To exorcize evil spirits and the accessory visitations; to cure predestined sickness; to prognosticate weal and woe."

This inscription highlights the jade’s protective power: it can ward off evil, cure illness, and predict fortune or disaster. It is both a magical and prophetic object.

This ability is confirmed again in chapter 25 when a Taoist priest says:

“In your family, you have readily at hand a precious thing, the like of which is rare to find in the world. It possesses the virtue of alleviating the ailment, so why need you inquire about remedies?”

It is then revealed that it appears that the jade has lost some of its powers due to the dissipated life Baoyu has led; it has been polluted by music, lust, the pursuit of wealth, and other worldly distractions.

The monk then fix the jade and recites a poem reflecting the spiritual journey of the jade, as well as Baoyu's. In it, we are told:

The jade was once bound neither by heaven nor earth, existing in a state of spiritual purity undisturbed by human emotions (joy or sorrow).

However, upon entering the human world, it was exposed to disturbances. The jade is now tarnished by material elements ("the traces of powder and rouge stains"), symbolizing the carnal pleasures and temptations to which Baoyu has succumbed.

Finally, the monk predicts that, although the jade is currently trapped ("caged like a duck"), it will awaken from its "slumber," and once it fulfills its destiny, it will be freed.

[Little paranthesis]

I find the sentence used by the mond really interesting : "House bars both day and night encage thee like a duck" because it is really fitting for (yes Jia Baoyu but also) Hong's Lu's situation, especially with the use of the word "house".

[End of the little paranthesis]

Its connection with Jia Baoyu

The jade and Baoyu are interconnected and can be seen as one and the same, with each influencing the other. For instance, Baoyu's mood and emotions affect the appearance of the jade (its brightness), and the presence of the jade impacts Jia Baoyu's mental state (its absence renders him completely witless/foolish).

At one point in the novel, Jia Baoyu's jade shines particularly brightly when he believes he will marry Lin Daiyu (when he will actually marry Xue Baochai). This strong light seems to be triggered by Jia Baoyu aligning with his spiritual destiny.

All of this to say that even in the novel the glow of Jia Baoyu’s jade can mean several things at the time.

Brief conclusion

Returning to Hong Lu, I wonder if Project Moon has separated the manifestation of the jade's powers from the expression of its alignment with Hong Lu’s mental state: therefore, when there are small sparks, it indicates that his jade’s powers are manifesting, while the varying intensity of light would reflect a part of his mental state.

It would suggest that Hong Lu, as an individual, is gradually disappearing, maybe renouncing to his will, becoming a puppet entirely under his family's control. Indeed, when Jia Baoyu loses his jade and becomes completely foolish, his behavior shows that he is controllable and malleable; he is so witless that he cannot act independently and only repeats what he is told.

However, I can’t complete this analysis without mentioning that Jia Baoyu’s jade also loses its shine due to worldly influences, like music, lust, the pursuit of wealth, and other earthly distractions. So, does the city’s dark and horrific environment tarnish Hong Lu's jade?

Well, the issue is that, although the city is an apocalyptic world grounded in reality, it can’t truly be described as an environment where Hong Lu experiences lust or wealth, the false pleasures of life; which are what tarnish the jade in DOTRC.

On the contrary, he lives more of a life that Jia Baoyu begins to envy at one point in the novel because it is a life free from the obligations and facades imposed on him by his family. Therefore, what he is currently experiencing should not affect the brightness of his eye.

So, after all this blabla, I think that Hong Lu’s eye is gradually getting dimmer as the end of Hong Lu's journey approaches, which signifies the end of his new experiences and his return to a life of wealth but also to a life with his family and to how things used to be.

We could see this light fading away as an hourglass where the sand is slowly falling down but little by little there will be no more remaining sand at the top.

I fear that when this happens, by going back home, Hong Lu will lose all individuality and will, becoming docile and obedient as he seems to have always been at home. And he is accepting this and it is because he is accepting this that his eye is getting dimmer, it is reflecting Hong Lu’s decline.

I think that during Hong Lu’s Canto, one of the biggest challenges will not only be to retrieve the golden bough but also to convince Hong Lu to leave with us. It’s almost certain that when we reach his home, Hong Lu won’t be able to leave with us because, his family won’t allow it, and above all, he won’t want to either because he’ll convince himself that he can't and that his little trip is over.

I’d like to finish by saying that Hong Lu’s Rose Hunter EGO Corrosion could really be linked to this because we can see that Hong Lu in his corrosion has a hangman’s like rope around his neck, formed by his horse’s reins.

Even if I want to analyse Hong Lu’s EGOs in another post I will just say that for me it is the symbol that Hong Lu is dependent of his (determined) fate and the will of the narrative (his family) even if it has to equal to his death (literally or figuratively or mentally we don’t know). I think it also means that even if Hong Lu believe being in control of his actions and decisions, in reality he is just following the lead of « his horse », the one conducting him, deciding where he is going — and so I think following his family’s wishes.

Voilà, thank you for reading!

[seriouslyseravellan]

finished veilguard. so many thoughts. so little ability to phrase them eloquently. gonna ramble a lil more.

absolutely loved the plot twist of varric actually being dead the whole time. i immediately have to replay the game so i can see all the scenes with him again now that i know the truth. also dear gods the devs really weren't kidding when they said regret is one of the major themes of the game. all of the companion quests were so compelling. i want to hug everyone. why won't bioware let me hug everyone.

got my qunari warden created and am starting playthrough #2 now. gonna try to make as many different decisions from my first playthrough as possible.

also i love taash so much. this isn't even related to the end of the game i just love them so much and i have to say it as often as possible.

[fantasiallamarcia]

things i think about constantly since i finished dark road.

[lgbtlunaverse]

Thinking of the Nie disciple that told Nie Mingjue it was Meng Yao who stayed behind to clean up corpses on the battlefield today.

Nie Mingjue didn't just randomly stumble upon poor lil meowyao eating bread in the novel, he was already looking for him to thank and reward him for his work.

That's what makes it so fun that nieyao's first conflict will end up being about someone else taking credit for Meng Yao's work.

And I'm sure that Nie Mingjue's actual opinions on plagiarism are a lot more nuanced, all we really get from him in this scene is "well you shouldn't kill someone over it!" which leaves a lot of room for what punishments he thinks are appropiate. But I bet that it isn't occuring to him in this moment that the only reason he knows Meng Yao at all, the only reason he got such a capable deputy, is that he noticed someone was taking care of the dead and cared enough to want to know their name. And then the Nie disciples didn't lie to him. The disciple he asked could have said "it was me, Zongzhu" to rise in the ranks himself, but he didn't. He went and asked others, who all also could have taken the credit, but they didn't. Someone saw Meng Yao working and decided to be honest about it and that simple decision is the catalyst for Meng Yao becoming Nie Mingjue's deputy.

Meng Yao can't just work hard to get results, others have to acknowledge that work. If they don't, it's as if he didn't do anything at all.

[watermelinoe]

i think it's kind of offensive to try to make holocaust denial about trans people but idk

[futurewife]

would y'all be mad if i f/o a.drian from p.eacemaker. I think im committing to the bit and watching it. Is anyone going to be mad? I just want him so bad. there are guys that are so dream girl to me

[leatherbookmark]

pretend to be shocked if you wish but i don’t even see mxy’s incestuous harassment of jgy as something like... Bad™, twisted or something that proves how Wrong In The Head he was. it’s just sad. chances are jgy was his first and last love, because -- how incredibly easy it would have been. i don’t think mxy was, hmm, mentally equipped to process “half-brother! off-limits!” -- he’s never seen this man before in his life, that’s a stranger! but what a stranger. he’s kind, respectful, capable and brilliant, hardworking despite the way he’s treated in jinlintai -- and mxy probably isn’t well-liked either, so even if jgy wasn’t also handsome, he would’ve gravitated towards this cool older dude who Understands. and hormones do the rest! and it didn’t even have to be immediate, or particularly sexual in nature, because i assume teens often don’t realize their crush is Obviously Showing. i’m just thinking about mxy who likes jgy so, so much and wants to be around him all the time, asks him about things, looks at him, catches a whiff of the incense on jgy’s robes as he walks past, blushes at the way jgy looks at a particular angle... just this sweet, innocent young love that’s so similar to the way jgy’s wife loved him before she was his wife So Fucking Doomed and mxy can’t even process it because he’s not even aware. :(

[thaliagrayce]

do NOT understand why will was complaining about nico's dark edgy powers. the pro to dating the king of all emo kids is that you get to date the king of all emo kids. whats not clicking

[luetta]

idk if people on tumblr know about this but a cybersecurity software called crowdstrike just did what is probably the single biggest fuck up in any sector in the past 10 years. it's monumentally bad. literally the most horror-inducing nightmare scenario for a tech company.

some info, crowdstrike is essentially an antivirus software for enterprises. which means normal laypeople cant really get it, they're for businesses and organisations and important stuff.

so, on a friday evening (it of course wasnt friday everywhere but it was friday evening in oceania which is where it first started causing damage due to europe and na being asleep), crowdstrike pushed out an update to their windows users that caused a bug.

before i get into what the bug is, know that friday evening is the worst possible time to do this because people are going home. the weekend is starting. offices dont have people in them. this is just one of many perfectly placed failures in the rube goldburg machine of crowdstrike. there's a reason friday is called 'dont push to live friday' or more to the point 'dont fuck it up friday'

so, at 3pm at friday, an update comes rolling into crowdstrike users which is automatically implemented. this update immediately causes the computer to blue screen of death. very very bad. but it's not simply a 'you need to restart' crash, because the computer then gets stuck into a boot loop.

this is the worst possible thing because, in a boot loop state, a computer is never really able to get to a point where it can do anything. like download a fix. so there is nothing crowdstrike can do to remedy this death update anymore. it is now left to the end users.

it was pretty quickly identified what the problem was. you had to boot it in safe mode, and a very small file needed to be deleted. or you could just rename crowdstrike to something else so windows never attempts to use it.

it's a fairly easy fix in the grand scheme of things, but the issue is that it is effecting enterprises. which can have a looooot of computers. in many different locations. so an IT person would need to manually fix hundreds of computers, sometimes in whole other cities and perhaps even other countries if theyre big enough.

another fuck up crowdstrike did was they did not stagger the update, so they could catch any mistakes before they wrecked havoc. (and also how how HOW do you not catch this before deploying it. this isn't a code oopsie this is a complete failure of quality ensurance that probably permeates the whole company to not realise their update was an instant kill). they rolled it out to everyone of their clients in the world at the same time.

and this seems pretty hilarious on the surface. i was havin a good chuckle as eftpos went down in the store i was working at, chaos was definitely ensuring lmao. im in aus, and banking was literally down nationwide.

but then you start hearing about the entire country's planes being grounded because the airport's computers are bricked. and hospitals having no computers anymore. emergency call centres crashing. and you realised that, wow. crowdstrike just killed people probably. this is literally the worst thing possible for a company like this to do.

crowdstrike was kinda on the come up too, they were starting to become a big name in the tech world as a new face. but that has definitely vanished now. to fuck up at this many places, is almost extremely impressive. its hard to even think of a comparable fuckup.

a friday evening simultaneous rollout boot loop is a phrase that haunts IT people in their darkest hours. it's the monster that drags people down into the swamp. it's the big bag in the horror movie. it's the end of the road. and for crowdstrike, that reaper of souls just knocked on their doorstep.

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

The thing with the Mari Lwyd, though, is that it's being... I don't know, 'appropriated' is the wrong word, but certainly turned into something it isn't.

Thing is, this is a folk tradition in the Welsh language, and that's the most important aspect of it. I feel partly responsible for this, because I accidentally became a bit of an expert on the topic of the Mari Lwyd in a post that escaped Tumblr containment, and I clearly didn't stress it strongly enough there (in my defence, I wrote that post for ten likes and some attention); but this is a Welsh language tradition, conducted in Welsh, using Welsh language poetic forms that are older than the entire English language, and also a very specific sung melody (with a very specific first verse; that's Cân y Fari). It is not actually a 'rap battle'. It's not a recited poem. It is not any old rhyme scheme however you want.

It is not in English.

Given the extensive and frankly ongoing attempts by England to wipe out Welsh, and its attendant cultural traditions, the Mari is being revived across Wales as an act of linguistic-cultural defiance. She's a symbol of Welsh language culture, specifically; an icon to remind that we are a distinct people, with our own culture and traditions, and in spite of everyone and everything, we're still here. Separating her from that by removing the Welsh is, to put it mildly, wildly disrespectful.

...but it IS what I'm increasingly seeing, both online and in real world Mari Lwyd festivals. She's gained enormous pop-culture popularity in recent years, which is fantastic; but she's also been reduced from the tradition to just an aesthetic now.

So many people are talking/drawing about her as though she's a cryptid or a mythological figure, rather than the folk practice of shoving a skull on a stick and pretending to be a naughty horse for cheese and drunken larks. And I get it! It's an intriguing visual! Some of the artwork is great! But this is not what she is. She's not a Krampus equivalent for your Dark Christmas aesthetic.

I see people writing their own version of the pwnco (though never called the pwnco; almost always called some variant on 'Mari Lwyd rap battle'), and as fun as these are, they are never even written in the meter and poetic rules of Cân y Fari, much less in Welsh, and they never conclude with the promise to behave before letting the Mari into the house. The pwnco is the central part to the tradition; this is the Welsh language part, the bit that's important and matters.

Mari Lwyd festivals are increasingly just English wassail festivals with a Mari or two present. The Swansea one last weekend didn't even include a Mari trying to break into a building (insert Shrek meme); there was no pwnco at all. Even in the Chepstow ones, they didn't do actual Cân y Fari; just a couple of recited verses. Instead, the Maris are just an aesthetic, a way to make it look a bit more Welsh, without having to commit to the unfashionable inconvenience of actually including Welsh.

And I don't really know what the answers are to these. I can tell you what I'd like - I'd like art to include the Welsh somewhere, maybe incorporating the first line of Cân y Fari like this one did, to keep it connected to the actual Welsh tradition (or other Welsh, if other phrases are preferred). I'd like people who want to write their version of the pwnco to respect the actual tradition of it by using Cân y Fari's meter and rhyme scheme, finishing with the promise to behave, and actually calling it the pwnco rather than a rap battle (and preferably in Welsh, though I do understand that's not always possible lol). I'd like to see the festivals actually observe the tradition, and include a link on the booking website to an audio clip of Cân y Fari and the words to the first verse, so attendees who want to can learn it ahead of time. I don't know how feasible any of that is, of course! But that's what I'd like to see.

I don't know. This is rambly. But it's something I've been thinking about - and increasingly nettled by - for a while. There's was something so affirming and wonderful at first about seeing the Mari's climb into international recognition, but it's very much turned to dismay by now, because she's important to my endangered culture and yet that's the part that everyone apparently wants to drop for being too awkward and ruining the aesthetic. It's very frustrating.

[inkskinned]

it's been said before and i'm sure said better than i can phrase it. but really, really - if you like making "i'm going to kill myself" jokes, please try switching to being ironically conceited instead.

anytime something goes wrong, say things like "ah well at least i'm beautiful and charming and everyone loves me." when you forget something, try "my big huge brain is so smart and thinking about too many other very big wizardly thoughts you wouldn't even understand." when you're frustrated by one of your symptoms, start talking like you're in My Immortal. "Life has come for me but my eyes are beautiful pools of gorgeous fire and my hair is amazing. I stuck my middle finger up at life and told it to fuck off and it did."

just... try it for a month or two. try saying the most absurdly self-congratulatory shit you can think of.

i know it's tempting to make suicide or self-harm jokes. and for me at least, a decade ago (!) when someone suggested i stop making those kinds of jokes, i was kind of at a loss for what to replace them with. i wanted to make light of these moments, but genuinely (at the time) my first thought really was suicidal ideation. there was a part of me that even felt like ... i was kind of "making light" of that voice. that if i could say i want to die lol, it would help take the sting out of that genuine (albeit passive) desire. like i could turn my illness into a joke.

when i started complimenting myself instead, it felt awkward and stupid. it felt really, really ironic. what i was actually saying was nobody would ever think this stuff about me, that's what makes it so fucking funny.

but. the effect was immediate. first thing i noticed was the people around me. when i dropped a glass and said ah my skin is too beautiful and sleek the glass has swooned and broken for me, other people were suddenly overjoyed to jump in with the joke. rather than making an awkward moment, we'd both start cracking up. ah princess sleek hands, i've heard of you.

i was 19. i hadn't noticed i'd been making others tense when i said i want it all to end. i know now that it's incredibly hard to know how to walk that moment - do you talk to them about your concern? do you potentially make them uncomfortable by asking if they're okay? do you ignore the situation? do you help them pick up the glass, or do they need to do it by themselves? are they genuinely made suicidal over this small moment? and most importantly, how do you - without professional training or supplies - actually help?

most people want to help you pick up the glass in your life, they just have no fucking idea how to do it. they don't want to make anything worse. they don't want to make assumptions about you. they love you, they're scared for you - and being scared makes people kind of freeze up. it's not because they don't love you. it's because they do.

now when something bad happens, my first thought is how can i make a stupid joke about this. it isn't my brain saying you're a dumb fucking bitch. i spend more time laughing. i spend more time being gentle with myself. i spend more time feeling good.

and the thing is - what's kind of funny - is that you'd be surprised by how many people agree with you. the first time i said i'm too pretty to understand that, someone else said to be fair you're the prettiest person in this room. i promise - you really don't know how kindly your friends see you. but they love you for a reason. they sort of reverse-velveteen-rabbit you. your weird and ugly spots fade away and you just become... the love they want to give you.

go love yourself ironically. the worst thing that happens is that you end up tricking your reflection into actually loving you.

[thebreakfastgenie]

It is extremely disturbing how many posts I see claiming that Roe v. Wade was overturned on Biden's watch and blaming him and the Democratic Party for it. It's disturbing on a number of levels.

First, it was Trump and Bush-appointed justices who handed down the Dobbs decision. This is a flagrant example of blaming Democrats for things Republicans did, and not coincidentally is one of the the most widely felt differences between the two parties. As a result, it's usually the first example Democrats and their allies point to; this misappropriation suggests a deliberate attempt to undercut that fact.

Secondly, and related to the first point, it obfuscates who the real enemy is, and I am comfortable using word "enemy" to describe the Republican Party because of the policies they advocate and enact. The truth is that states controlled by the Republican Party were where the effects of Dobbs are most severely felt, while states controlled by the Democratic Party are passing laws to protect abortion. It is important to know which party opposes abortion and which party supports it. If the Republicans gain control of the House, Senate, and White House, they will pass a national abortion ban, as they have done at the state level in several places.

Thirdly, blaming Biden for Dobbs demonstrates a very concerning lack of understanding of how the government functions. The judiciary is its own branch of government; judges are appointed by the president and confirmed by the senate. It doesn't matter who is president when a decision is handed down, it matters who was president when the justices were appointed. People sometimes react to this by moving the goalposts and claiming the real issue was a failure by Democrats to "codify" Roe v. Wade. I am not sure what "codify" means in this context, and I'm not sure they are either. One thing it does not mean is that congress can pass a law saying "abortion is legal forever." Republicans could easily repeal such a law and it the federal government cannot necessarily prevent states from restricting abortion at the state level. Roe v. Wade was a ruling stating that the constitution guaranteed a right to privacy, which included the right to have an abortion. This prevented abortion restrictions in a way federal law cannot. That doesn't mean passing federal law protecting abortion is a bad idea, but it isn't a foolproof protection. It's fair to argue that the Democratic Party and the left of center generally were complacent about abortion. The form of this complacency was not taking the courts seriously, while the right spent fifty years openly filling the courts with anti-abortion judges.

The last thing that worries me is that this is popping up phrased almost the exact same way all over the place. I am afraid that it is not merely incompetence, but intentional misinformation, that is then repeated by the incompetent who believe it.

I know some will probably dismiss this post as being from a "vote harder" liberal Biden supporter, but whatever your feelings about Biden, the Democratic Party, or the democratic process in the U.S., you should care about the truth. The truth is that Roe v. Wade was overturned by Republican-appointed judges and abortion bans are being enacted by Republican elected officials, and Joe Biden opposes these things. You can do with that information whatever you wish, but you denying it is dishonest.

[yazmarina]

walk me through it

for the love circuit series

—you're used to being flirted with in front of the camera. but something about franco is really doing you in.

franco colapinto (f1) x fem!reporter reader

warnings/notes: smut, unprotected sex (no condom, yes birth control), guided masturbation, lewd photography, lots of flirting, franco is shameless (naturally), some Spanish sentences and phrases

a/n: will resume hit play for a bit after this one! enjoy franco girlies mwa

Your job was simple enough. Well, for today, at least.

Stand in the media pen, gather statements, and piece together a couple of stories later that evening for publishing first thing tomorrow morning. All in a day's work, like all the other days before.

You've grown immune to the charms of rich, adrenaline-seeking men. Didn't take you too long, the illusion breaking as soon as any one of them opened their mouths. Some you tolerate more than others, but some you'd rather steer clear of completely.

This isn't to say that you've brushed all of them off. You might have agreed to a date here and there but nothing ever stuck, the nature of your jobs a bit too similar and all too different at the same time. You've given up on the prospect that you'll somehow end up with one of the many Formula 1 drivers you've interviewed and spoken to. And you've spoken to a lot. You've had this gig since you were shipped off fresh from uni and one too many 'What happened there?'s and 'Tell me about qualifying's can put a damper on the romantic side of things.

But someone new's in town. Well, er, new in the paddock. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't even a little bit excited.

He's charming, that much you can already tell. He walks into the media pen like he's done it thousands of times before and you have to actively suppress a smile as he walks over. Confidence is always a plus. For the interview, of course.

"Hola, Franco. Antes que nada, enhorabuena," you greet warmly, extending your arm over the barrier to place the microphone nearer to him. Hi, Franco. First of all, congratulations.

Franc's eyebrows shoot up, a wolfish grin settling on his face. "Oh. I thought this was an English interview?"

You smile back. "It is, but I know my way around Spanish, as well."

"Ah," Franco nods. "Gracias, _______."

"You know my name?" You ask, momentarily forgetting that you're being taped and recorded. You clear your throat, ignoring the quiet snicker from your cameraman.

"Yeah, I've seen you around and watched some of your other interviews," Franco confirms, a hand settling on his hip as he leans against the barrier, closer to you.

You can smell his perfume from where you stand.

"Thank you, I've heard and seen a lot about you as well," you respond, trying to return to your original train of thought.

"Which is why I want to ask you how it feels on your first day as a Formula 1 driver," you quickly follow. "Have you done anything special to prepare for this weekend? Other than the obvious, of course."

Another easy smile spreads across Franco's lips. "I've definitely added to my training and done some new things to prepare. I haven't done a full F1 weekend before so everything will be new."

"We definitely don't have reporters like you in the lower Formulas," he adds.

You feel a violent blush rip up through your neck all the way to your cheeks. As if the Monza heat wasn't enough.

"Well, I'm glad you could meet me here," you manage to get out.

The thing is, Franco isn't even the most attractive driver you've met. He's definitely up there, but not the most.

That's a discussion you have with yourself semi-weekly: ranking the drivers in terms of attractiveness, factoring in personalities and general attitudes towards the people around them, specifically the media.

Look, people love to shit on the media and press, calling journalism all sorts of derogatory words, but you're just here to do your job, like anyone else. And it gets pretty fucking hard when your boss is ringing your phone every five minutes demanding four stories by tomorrow and drivers are sassing you out as if you asked them if they've murdered their whole family.

So, naturally, the way they treat you determines a big chunk of how you think your day is going to pan out.

And right now, Franco seems to be lifting your spirits just fine.

"What are your goals for this weekend? Are points on the horizon for you at your first F1 race?" You continue, trying not to stare at the way Franco starts to rub at the back of his neck, bashful all of a sudden.

"We'll try," Franco begins. He plants both his hands on the barrier and leans even closer. You have to physically take a step back.

You gulp. Franco smiles.

"Anything is possible this weekend."

-

"You broke the internet last night."

You scoff, sending your cameraman a vicious side-eye. It's crowded in the paddock today, everyone wanting to get a glimpse of the new rookie, it seems. Such is the eagerness for this young driver that even that 30-second clip of your interview with him blew right up in your face. Your inboxes at capacity, your own voice speaking back to you with every other swipe on your TikTok.

It's not all bad, though. A tweet with one of your Instagram photos attached to it captioned 'TE ENTIENDO MUCHO FRANCO ES MUY LINDA PERIODISTA' did weasel out a chuckle from you.

Your cameraman shrugs, gesturing with a jerk of his head in front of you.

"There he is. I'm sure he knows all about it."

You look over to where he's pointing and lo and behold, Franco is right there, chatting with a few Williams team members, his race suit hanging undone around his waist. He turns to you even before you can fully register that it's him you're looking at.

But your training kicks in even faster. A megawatt smile appears on your lips and you wave enthusiastically at Franco.

"Hi."

"_______," Franco says, face lighting up at the sight of you. Your name seems to fall even more effortlessly off his lips.

You reach over and pull him into a half-hug with one arm, but both his arms wind around you and you have no choice but to squeeze back.

"You saw?" Franco asks, a gleam in his eye as he pulls away. His hand remains casually on the small of your back.

"Saw what?" You know what it is he's asking but you'd like to hear it from him.

"We went viral, no?" Franco says with a laugh, reaching further around you and squeezing your waist. You lean into his touch, heart jumping as his fingers graze just underneath your cropped top.

"That's all because of you," you reason, pointing an accusatory finger at Franco. "I bet you say that to all the other reporters."

The Williams team members standing nearby burst out laughing and even your cameraman affords a snicker. A deep blush spreads across Franco's face as he rubs your side reassuringly.

"No, no, I don't. Just you," Franco admits with another lighthearted laugh.

"Sure," you say with exaggerated skepticism. You pull away from his touch, catching his hand before he slips it fully off of you.

"I'll talk to you later," you say. And it's fully intentional, the words you choose to say. I'll talk to you later. Not 'I'll catch you later' or 'I'll see you later'.

I will talk to you later.

Franco understands, giving your hand a squeeze.

-

Later that day, you pray that no one catches you grinning behind your hand as Franco takes the chequered flag at qualifying.

P11.

Almost there.

-

"Hi. Come in."

Franco beams at you from across the threshold, stepping into your room with slow, measured steps.

"Great qualifying," you compliment, eyes traveling down Franco's body, noting the way his team kit hugs his frame just right, his hands shoved into his pockets, exposing just his arms, veins and all.

Your eyes snap back up to his face when you hear the door shut in place.

"Q2 on your debut. Not bad," you go on, taking a step back. Franco takes one toward you.

"You're just repeating what you said at the media pen earlier," Franco points out. He reaches out and gently circles an arm around your waist.

Always straight to the point.

Like this morning.

You tried not to make it so obvious when you ran into Franco earlier, but all you could think about was The Message.

You were doing your cursory social media checks a few minutes after you had woken up, still snug in your bed and unwilling to get up just yet. A message in your Instagram inbox caught your attention, sitting at the very top of your 'verified followers' tab.

Franco Colapinto: hola, hermosa 😉

It took a minute for your motor functions to return, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you pored over what to reply. You settled on a nonchalant greeting, asking if Franco needed anything.

You realized rather belatedly that this was looking a little familiar. You wished he wouldn't say the dreaded answer, the more-than-predictable response that every man liked to use.

Franco Colapinto: you, maybe?

You groaned into your pillow, not because you were repulsed by his answer, but because you liked it. If you were easy, then so was he.

You: i finish work at 9 pm tonight...? 👀

It's 9 PM now. Franco's in the room and your hand is running up his chest.

Easy.

"It's such an honor," Franco teases, backing you up further into the room. His hands feel heavy on your waist and your heart hammers against your chest.

"I get to work with people like you now," Franco continues, stopping right in front of the bed.

The kiss comes as a shock more so because of how good Franco kisses. One of his hands is now cradling the back of your head, keeping you in place while he licks into your mouth, groaning with every pucker of your lips.

You pull away for barely a second to get both of your tops off before you dive back in, seemingly too desperate and too starved for each other's mouths. Franco's hands are everywhere; they run down your arms, paw at your waist, tugging at the belt loops of your jeans.

You giggle as he pulls you even closer, your bare chests pressed against each other. Franco pulls back and peers down at you, reaching behind to unclasp your bra. You let it fall, already guiding one of his hands to your tits.

"Couldn't stop staring at them?" You ask, your voice rising with an innocent lilt.

Franco kneads at the mound beneath his hand, eliciting a moan from you. He grins.

"I wanted you to notice," Franco admits simply, kissing you again.

"Perv," you mumble against his lips. Franco laughs, already undoing his trousers.

You wiggle your own way out of your jeans, letting Franco get the shortest of glimpses at your baby pink underwear before you discard them off to the side.

"Mierda, you're so sexy," Franco compliments as you crawl backward onto the bed, laying back and letting your hair splay out beneath you.

Franco pounces on you like a man starved, bare atop your own naked body, his arms caging you in.

"Big moves from somebody so new," you whisper, carding your fingers through Franco's soft locks.

"I like to make a statement," Franco says with a shrug. He glances up momentarily, something piquing his interest off to the side.

"Is that your camera?"

You crane your neck to see where he's looking and sure enough, your personal DSLR is right there on the bedside drawer. You look back at Franco, an eyebrow raised.

"You wanna use it?" You ask, not expecting him to actually say yes. But a mischievous grin settles on Franco's face and you feel your heart skip several beats.

"Knock yourself out," you say.

Franco reaches for the camera and fiddles with it for a few seconds. His eyes scan over your body and you suddenly feel the urge to hide away with how hard he's looking.

"May I?" Franco asks, brandishing the camera. Your mouth falls open as you realize what he's asking.

"You can keep them for yourself. For your eyes only," Franco hurriedly adds, planting his knees firmly on either side of you.

You stare up at him, a million thoughts running through your mind.

"Just...touch yourself."

You gasp, stunned at his proposal. Franco watches through the LCD monitor, glancing up at you through his lashes. Your bottom lip slips between your teeth, and as if on instinct, your hand inches down slowly between your legs.

"You're in front of cameras all the time," Franco reminds with a smirk. "This should be easy for you."

You suppress a whimper at his words, your fingertips swiping through your slick folds. You're already soaked and you start to wonder if it started even before Franco got here.

The shutter clicks and the lens whirs, sharp against the soft breaths you're letting out. Franco is concentrated, snapping photo after photo as you rub yourself closer to release. But it's not enough. You need more.

"Franco...," you implore, peering up with bright, begging eyes.

"Slowly, mi amor," Franco coos. "Just where you like it. Right there."

Click.

"Harder now, but still slow. Yes? Feels good?"

You whine, eyes fluttering shut as your pleasure picks up again. Several clicks. You're panting now, the tendrils of release wrapping themselves around you.

"Faster, yes, like that," Franco eggs on. Your fingers speed up against your sensitive clit and a litany of Franco's name spills from your lips. Before you know it, he's putting the camera away. You reach for him, gripping the back of his neck as he smashes his lips into yours.

Franco bites down on your lip and you cry out, your orgasm washing over you like a tide. You arch against Franco, feeling his own stiffness heavy on your thigh.

You blink, Franco's face coming into focus, barely an inch from yours. He watches you closely, pupils blown wide and plump lips even redder. You hook your legs around his waist, letting him know that you're not done yet.

Franco is quick to pick up, smiling as lines himself up with you. The groan that escapes him is nothing short of delicious as he pushes himself in. You gasp along, the stretch a welcome sensation.

Franco wastes no time and pounds right into you, catching you by surprise. You let your head fall back against the mattress, a long, drawn-out whine erupting from deep within your chest as Franco licks a stripe up your neck.

Your whole body quakes with how hard he's thrusting into you but you're clearly enjoying it if your wanton moans are anything to go by. Franco meets your eyes and you pull him down, wanting nothing more than to drown in those lips of his.

It's feral and it's unrestrained, spurred on by the knowledge that this is more than unprofessional in your line of work. Not illegal by any means, but risky enough to warrant warnings from your coworkers. Never sleep with a driver unless you're committed.

Oh, well.

Franco groans loudly in your ear, movements losing their rhythm as he speeds up. You're clinging to him as if he'd disappear if you let go, your own belly tightening once more with that familiar feeling.

Franco. Franco. Franco.

He kisses you just as he finishes. Passionate, eager, heady. You feel him inside you, a different kind of elation filling you as you release all over him.

Franco pulls away to allow yourselves to breathe. He pulls out, rolling over to your side. You hug your folded knees to your chest, too lazy to get up and find something to deal with the mess.

"No hagas eso. Eso es demasiado doméstico," Franco jokes, moving closer and planting a kiss to your shoulder. Don't do that. That's too domestic.

"Relájate, estoy usando anticonceptiva," you reassure with a lighthearted roll of your eyes. Relax, I'm on birth control.

Franco hums, laying an arm over you. He pulls you close and you face him, reaching up to brush away some of his unruly hair.

He plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"Happy that you're a Formula 1 driver?" You ask, grinning.

Franco chuckles. "Very."

[ashfae]

The thing about romance is, it makes a good story.

As soon as Neil described season 2 as "quiet, gentle, romantic" I figured we'd be in for it, because as he's the first to point out, writers are liars. And the best way to deceive is with truth.

Season 2 is romantic. The trappings of romance are everywhere. Crowley tries to set up Nina and Maggie by trapping them under an awning during a rainstorm, a classic cinematic bonding technique. Aziraphale's chosen method comes from his beloved books: the ball, the dancing, appearing as a pair in public, hands held as you twirl gracefully with your heart thrilled and racing. If they can set up a sensational kiss that will unlock the happy ever after. They've lived on earth, they've studied the tropes, they know how romance works.

The problem is a story is only a story.

Nina and Maggie had the classic romantic setup completely by accident before Aziraphale and Crowley ever began trying to interfere with them. They get locked in Nina's coffeeshop. They can't escape or communicate with anyone else, they end up talking by candlelight because there's no electricity, Nina offers wine. Maggie mentions how she'd hoped for a chance to talk to Nina, and now here they are. It's every bit as much a standard as what Aziraphale and Crowley attempt to arrange. Blanket scenarios galore exist because of that starting point. We love that story. And there's nothing wrong with that.

But it's still only a story, it's not enough. Because once that moment of connection is over, however lovely it was, all the rest of the world comes flooding back in in the form of dozens of angry text messages. Nina's messy entrapping relationship hasn't magically gone away just because she and Maggie shared a romantic encounter.

And it's so tempting think oh well, that's easy. We'll just give them more romantic encounters and eventually those will overwhelm the rest of the baggage. Must do, because it'll make them fall in love, and once they realize they're in love that trumps all other considerations, right? So it'll be fine. Love Conquers All.

Neil also mentioned Pride and Prejudice.

Darcy knows he's in love early on and makes a disasterous proposal that shows that he has no understanding of Elizabeth's perspective, possibly hasn't even thought about it. They've been meeting in forest lanes for walks, conversing, had tete-a-tetes in the sitting room, danced at a ball. And while his turn of phrase isn't as flattering as he thinks, he's still offering her everything he thinks she wants and needs: affection, security, his good name, wealth, an escape from the embarrassments of her situation, the world. How can there be anything to object to? Why would anyone ever refuse so much of value?

Elizabeth quite rightly cuts him to pieces. He lashes back with a few hard truths of his own and they separate. During that separation, he thinks and he learns. He takes to heart the criticisms she offered, re-examines his assumptions, opens his eyes. Thinks about her perspective and how sometimes the only difference between pride and arrogance is where you're standing. He does the work. When they meet again he tries to demonstrate that he's learned--not in order to court her again (yet), but because the only real apology he can offer, the only one that would have weight, is to show that he's grown, he listened to her. He changed.

Elizabeth of course has her own journey, accepting that many of her own conclusions about Darcy were erroneous because they were formed without her having the full picture to hand, and once she's done that she has to apply it to her own situation as well. She loves her family, but they do place her at a disadvantage on a number of levels, leading eventually to full-out disaster as her younger sister carelessly ruins all of their reputations. It's hard to admit, it's mortifying, but Darcy was offering her a great deal she needs. His offer did have worth for all that she dismissed it as an insult. And as she learns to value his own character more highly, and then as she sees that he did listen to her even though she insulted him so thoroughly...well, she grows too. And when they do eventually come together it's not because of courting and balls. There's a big romantic gesture in his rescue of her sister but even that isn't why they'll get their happy ever after. It was just the catalyst for the conversation. They win because they've learned how to understand each other and how to communicate for the future. How they can strengthen and support each other, how to balance their strengths and weaknesses. The films leave them at the wedding, but the book shows a bit of their marriage too, and during it they keep learning from each other. Their relationship is held up as a superior love story for good reasons.

The end of season one was romantic too. Crowley stopped time rather than face a world where Aziraphale would never speak to him again, Aziraphale walked into hell to protect Crowley, they dined at the Ritz and toasted the world. But then they stopped. Sure they spent time together, talked, enjoyed each other's company. But if they were talking about important things would Crowley still be living in his car? They had a bit of respite but all that real world baggage that exists outside of the romantic moment hasn't been faced, none of it. Four or five years sounds like a long while but for beings who are quite literally older than the earth? That's just an intermission.

Nina's relationship ends, leaving her with a tangled mess; Maggie realises the sweet dream of love she's been longing for isn't as important as the real Nina. They talk. They plan. Nina will sort through her life, get closure, figure out what went wrong with Lindsay and what she wants from a relationship, learn how to ask for respect instead of just bending under her partner's demands. Maggie will support Nina the way Nina needs, which sometimes means helping her get oat milk for the shop and sometimes means giving her processing space. They're on the same page; they're going to do the work. That's why most likely they'll succeed. To quote one of my favourite fanfics: it's not happily ever after, but it's a chance. It's all going to be okay. (The Profane Comedy by Mussimm, who absolutely nailed this theme)

The romance is nice, it's lovely. We need it to keep ourselves going. To give ourselves the dreams that help us get through the days and nights. But it's not the relationship. It's not enough on its own. The wedding can be the grandest most beautiful ceremony ever with doves flying and sweeping music and bells ringing, but that doesn't guarantee the marriage will last.

Crowley and Aziraphale have had their romantic gestures, oodles of them. One wing raised to protect the other from falling stars, another from rain. Shared ground, shared interests, hands offered in friendship and held on a bus. They've tried to get to the same page, they really have. They just aren't there yet. The biggest most important things still haven't been talked about, and season 2 showed there are even more of those big important things than we'd realised.

The show paints Maggie as Aziraphale's foil and Nina as Crowley's, even to the point of Nina casually calling Maggie 'angel'. But Aziraphale's baggage is Nina's. The toxic relationship has to be processed and understood and closed, and it hasn't been, despite season one. Lindsay never really liked Nina very much, for all that they tried to keep her trapped; Heaven never really liked Aziraphale very much for all that he believed in it. They both let themselves be used. But Lindsay left Nina and went to their sister's, whereas now the head of Heaven has reached out to Aziraphale and said here, we can fix this, you can fix this, don't you want to fix this? Others are already writing about that and maybe I'll add to it later, not sure. And Crowley, like Maggie, has had a sweet dream that he has to set aside. Maybe he'll be able to pick it up again eventually, maybe not. But sometimes you offer support by buying oat milk or rescuing your beloved from the legions of hell, and sometimes you do it by standing back while they sort through their shit.

Quiet, gentle, romantic. It was.

But that's only part of the story. Now they have to do the work. They thought they had, but they were wrong, because there's so much they just hadn't touched yet and tried to cover over with relief and sleight of hand and alcohol and forgiveness. The apology dance doesn't mean much without showing that you listened and learned. They've faced so much trauma already and that should have been enough, we wanted it to be enough and so did they and it's such a blow for it to turn out that there's still more to do, that the baggage hasn't just gone away and can't be hidden under blankets or soothed with cocoa. The texts are still coming in and demanding answers.

But it'll be okay. It will. It's still a chance. And one that in the long run makes them better, builds something real that lasts.

The best stories, the ones that last longest and become classics, are the ones that don't end with the kiss under the awning or the blanket scenario or the wedding. They're the ones that heal us while the characters heal themselves. It's hard to accept that there's still more to do. Harder to imagine how it can possibly work out. And yes, bloody frustrating to wait and see.

And we'll get through that interim by telling even more stories. Because the story is never just a story. It's how we get through the work, it's what we tell ourselves so we can do the damn work. Stories are what we cling to and how we remind ourselves we're human and connect. A book is a person you can carry with you. We're not alone, none of us, stories connect us because we love them and see ourselves in them, which means we see each other.

Aziraphale's back up in Heaven to deal with his unfinished baggage; Crowley left his behind long ago and it's clearly going to come back and bite him in the arse however much he tries to go his own way. And they can't help each other with that. Not yet.

But they'll get there. So will we.