#im gonna edit this later after ive slept so if you see this before like 2pm pst youre seeing the original version

[crassjellyfish]

its 7:30 am and i havent gone to bed yet so this might not be super coherent but like.

i keep seeing people call good omens queer baiting and, one, no, and two, i still understand where youre coming from with those concerns but like, no.

first, the book.

good omens was published in 1990. it was kinda okay to be gay, but not universally accepted. its totally understandable that gaiman and pratchet put it in the book and heavily coded az and crowley as gay without outright saying it. its obvious they love one another on every single goddamned page, but i know that most of the people who are posting about it havent read the book and didnt know it existed before the show came out. but the love is there, and its in the subtext. the narrative is about aziraphael and crowley, yes, but the story isnt, so it makes sense that maybe their love lives get pushed to the backburner in favor of saving the world. and honestly, a lot of people dont exercise the analytical reading skills needed to examine their relationship, but that doesnt mean it wasnt there.

now. the show.

i adore the show. i think its well made and funny and the best screen adaptation ive seen in a long time. and i get what people say about the queer baiting in it but, like i said before, it is in the subtext. they dont fuck on screen. they dont kiss, or say i love you, or have some other out-there moment of realization. except they do have an out there moment of realization, each one played and focused on by the actors. michael sheen tried his damndest to make sure every time he looked at david, az looked like he was brimming with love for him. you can watch literally any interview the two of them have done and they talk about the fact that they played these two characters as in love as possibe. discounting the work the actors put in to portray the characters like that just because you dont recognize it is rude and leads to people crying queer bait.

neil has said recently, and has been saying for a long time, that this is a love story. its between two ethereal beings with no specifically defined gender or sexuality, and a lot of it is left up to interpretation but it pushes you to interpret it a certain way.

the idea that anything resembling a queer relationship can only exist if its explicitly stated, or theres a kiss or sex or whatever the fuck people are pushing for is frustrating. and classifying any piece of entertainment that doesnt showcase an lgbt relationship exactly how you want it to "queer baiting" is harmful because it makes it harder to identify which works actually showcase lgbt relationships and which ones dont.

also, i saw a post claiming neil was pulling a jkr and saying it was gay after the fact without backing it up in his works and just. thats annoying as hell bc its just blatantly wrong. jkr shoehorned it in with no textual evidence to back it up, but there are 369 pages of textual evidence to back up what neil says.

and if you want some of his other works that showcase queer relationships, go read american gods and also check out his tumblr bc he talked abt which of his works have lgbt rep recently on there.

[all-hail-the-witcher]

“I don’t know, does he normally just lay on the ground like that?” sprace?

ah yes, in the actual book this line came from it was used as comic relief but no one was actually hurt, can’t say the same for this

__________

ship: sprace also some blush

genre: hurt comfort angst/ worrying

word count: 1461

warnings: physical injury, worrying

editing: not at all

__________

Phone calls from Mush always made Spots heart race. Mush was a doctor and his boyfriend Blink was a surgeon at a local hospital. Since they knew that their friend group was prone to strange accidents they had long since offered free medical services to their friends at their apartment using their stash of medical supplies that they had swiped - probably illegally - from the hospital. In exchange, they had a different couple from the friend group do their grocery shopping every month.

Spot had gotten a few calls from Mush and Blink over the years about Race. Although the calls usually pertained to a stunt Race and Jack had pulled that resulted in one of them getting minorly banged up. The only problem was Jack and Davey were out on a date that night and Race had gone out to skateboard a few hours ago.

“Hello?” Spot said hesitantly after he had picked up the phone.

“Hey there Spot,” Mush answered the phone using his calm and collected doctor voice. “I’ve got Race here in my apartment.”

Spot sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes, trying not to panic.

“Don’t worry,” Mush said quickly, he must have heard Spots sharp intake of breath. “He’ll be fine, I promise.”

“Okay,” Spot said, running into their room and grabbing Race one of his hoodies and some sweatpants. “Can I come over?”

Mush, of course, understood what he was really asking. “Yeah, you can come see him. But you can’t bring him home just yet.”

Spot stopped pulling on his shoes and stood up with a start, a pit growing in his stomach. “Why?”

“I want to keep him here overnight, cause, well….” Mush trailed off.

“Mush, tell me, please, is my boyfriend okay?” Spot begged, his hand tightening around his phone.

“He’s fine, Spot, I swear. You know I wouldn’t lie about that,” Mush reassured him, although it did little to calm Spots nerves. “He’s just still unconscious and I need to keep him here for observation.”

Spot allowed himself exactly one second to freak out before jamming on his shoes and running out the door. “Well, do you know what happened?”

“We think it was a hit and run,” Mush said calmly. “He showed up here about an hour ago, barely conscious, nearly gave Blink a heart attack, we’re not quite sure how he even managed to get to our place but-”

“Mush, I… I can’t- could you please just stop talking?” Spot said, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t hear it right now.” He didn’t want to think about Race getting hit by someone and hauling himself up to Blink and Mush’s apartment all by himself, hurt and alone. This wasn’t some dumb stunt he and Jack had pulled, like that time Jack had dared him to jump in the lake in Central Park in the middle of January and he almost got hypothermia, no, this time Race was actually seriously hurt and Spot wasn’t there for him.

“Sean Conlon, you better listen to me right now,” Mush commanded him as he stepped out of his apartment building and flagged down a taxi. “Race is one of the craziest people I know. If he can survive all that junk Jack dares him to do, then I promise you, he’s going to be fine. But you’re not going to help him if you come in here freaking out, alright?”

“Alright,” Spot said, pausing to rattle off Blink and Mush’s address to the cabbie.

“Okay, good,” Mush said. There was some noise in the background. “Spot, I have to go, Blink needs me. We'll see you soon, yes?”

“Yes,” Spot affirmed. “I’m in the cab right now.”

“Good, alright I’ll see you in a few,” Mush said hanging up.

Spot stared down at the sweatshirt and sweatpants he was holding, trying to heed Mush’s advice and calm himself down before he saw Race. Mush was right, Race had done all kinds of stupid stuff, especially with Jack. He would be fine, he had to be fine. But a small part of him was still doubtful.

•••

5 minutes later, Spot was standing outside of Blink and Mush’s apartment. Blink answered the door, letting him in.

“Where’s Race?” Spot asked immediately.

“Oh hi, Spot, nice to see you too, I’m good, thanks for asking,” Blink said, rolling his eye as Spot stepped inside.

Spot kicked off his shoes, glaring at Blink.

Blink threw up his hands in exasperation. “Oh fine, he’s in the guest bedroom.”

“Is he okay?” Spot asked quickly.

“I don’t know, does he normally just lay on the ground like that?” Blink asked and Spot’s eyes widened. What was he talking about? Mush had said that Race was fine…

“Louis!” Mush yelled, coming down the hall. “Stop harassing Spot.” He shot his boyfriend an exasperated look which Blink returned with complete accuracy before leading Spot down the hallway.

“You’ll have to forgive him,” he apologized. “He had an 8 hour surgery today and only slept for about an hour before Race showed up on our doorstep.” He paused outside the guest bedroom. “Do you want the injury run down now or later?”

“Now, I guess.” Spot was really itching to see Race and make sure he was okay, but he wanted to know what he was walking into first.

Mush gave him a reassuring smile. “5 broken ribs, cut on the left thigh, cut on left temple, both of which required stitches so be careful, bruised left shoulder, and we’re monitoring him for signs of a concussion.”

Spot must have looked alarmed because Mush pulled him into a hug. “He’s gonna be fine, Spot, I told you. He’s Race, he’ll be fine.”

“I know, I know,” Spot sighed. “I just wish he didn’t get into these situations.”

Mush rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but this wasn’t him and Jack jumping out of a tree into a kiddie pool, it was a hit and run, could’ve happened to anyone.”

“I just wish it wasn’t him,” Spot mumbled.

“I know, Spot,” Mush sighed. “But it could have been so much worse.”

Spot gave a half hearted nod, he had spent the entire ride over here thinking about how bad it could have been.

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need anything. Call me when he wakes up, alright?” Mush offered him a smile and walked down the hall.

“Will do,” Spot called after him. He hesitated a second, took a deep breath and turned the doorknob.

Race was laying perfectly still under the covers, his skin ghostly pale. Mush had put an IV drip in his arm - why he even had one at his apartment Spot didn’t want to know - and propped him up against several pillows. A good half of his face was obscured in white bandages.

“Oh Tony,” Spot sighed crossing the room and sinking down on the edge of the bed. “What happened to you, babe?”

Race, obviously, did not respond.

Spot lifted the covers gingerly to see what sort of damage they were hiding. Race appeared to be only in his boxers, Mush had probably discarded his clothes elsewhere while they were fixing him up. His chest was tightly wrapped in several layers of thick bandages, as was his shoulder and left upper leg, and there were several flowering bruises that Spot could see peeking out from his bandages.

After lowering the covers gently, Spot picked up Races right hand and held it tightly in his. “You scared me, Race,” he whispered. “When mush called me, I got so scared, I thought you were gone. You can’t scare me like that.” He kissed Races hand lightly.

Almost immediately Races eyes began to flutter. “Spo’?”

“Yes, Tony, I’m here.” Spot had never known relief until Race opened his eyes gave him a small smile.

“Why does everything hurt so much?” Race grumbled, grimacing as he tried to left his left arm. “What happened? Where am I?”

“You’re at Blink and Mush’s apartment,” Spot explained gently. “They think you were involved in a hit and run accident, apparently you showed up at their doorstep,” Spot paused, letting go of Races hand and moving to get up. “Actually, Mush asked me to go get him when you woke up.”

“Wait, Spot,” Race called, trying to push himself up and letting out a yelp of pain.

Spot quickly turned around, eyes wide with alarm. Gently, he lowered Race back onto his mound of pillows. “Careful there,” he whispered. “You're pretty beat up.”

“Can you just lay with me for a second before you get Mush?” Race pleaded. “I’m kind of tired, and I want to sleep.”

“Of course racer,” spot smiled, climbing next to him in the bed. “Anything for you.”

__________

let’s have a moment of silence for blush and all the junk they’ve delt with over the years

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