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kaile-hultner · 5 months ago

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Help me dig upward: the Tumblr post

In which I talk a little bit about the hole I’ve been in for a hot minute—and what I want to do to dig out of it.

Hey y’all,

For the second time in a few years I’m starting a GoFundMe. This time, though, it’s not for the site, at least not explicitly. It is to help me get out from under the weight of debt that I’ve been carrying for more than a decade at this point, but which has finally gotten so bad that it’s affecting everything from my sleep patterns to my overall mental health and ability to do the thing that you likely already support me for: this website.

If you’ve been wondering why the posting has decreased here, or reduced in quality, or why we started 2024 off publishing other writers and then just as suddenly stopped doing that again, this is why: I am out of money, I am in debt, and it feels like I’m living every day in pure, basic survival mode.

This GFM, in which I’m asking for $10,000, is a moonshot, a Hail Mary. I don’t expect it to raise anything; it will be the last time I ask the Internet for money, whether it works or it doesn’t. If it works, obviously it’ll mean I’ll be able to post more and maybe my mental health will improve and I won’t feel like every moment is a countdown to a terrible ending, and I’ll be able to think of compelling angles to talk about video games again. If it doesn’t work, maybe I’ll figure something else out. Bankruptcy, probably. I don’t know.

I hate doing this. I hate being in this position. I hate that I’ve already asked for money this year and people have been extremely generous and it just feels like all that generosity just went into a hole. I wish I had something to show for that generosity, or proactively for anything I gain from this campaign. So, if there is something you want me to cover or talk about or look at in exchange for your support on this campaign, just shoot me an email with proof of your donation, no matter how small. It’s [email protected]. I can’t promise I’ll write a bunch of magnum opuses at your request but I will do what I can just simply to show appreciation for your support.

Anyway, this feels bad to me and I’m already starting to regret it, so I’m going to wrap this up by saying thank you in advance and I owe you my life. I wish that was figurative.

Edit: here is the text of the GFM I posted.

Hi y’all,

My name is Kaile Hultner. I am an online cultural critic who has been running the video game criticism website No Escape since 2019. My work has been featured in other places like PC Gamer, Polygon and Bullet Points Monthly. And like a lot of people, I have been deeply in debt for years.

Debt is a very strange phenomenon. As anthropologist David Graeber demonstrated in his book Debt: The First 5000 Years, it is a phenomenon that imparts a kind of moral valence on a person; whether or not that person can pay their debts is a sign of their trustworthiness or virtue as a member of polite society. Yet you can’t go without debt: at some point, at least in the United States, you have to pick up a form of debt – credit – to establish your credit score, without which you can’t rent an apartment, buy or lease a car, or, in some cases, even get a job. Being debt-free can harm this score, as can having a credit history that is “too young.”

I’ve been in debt for a long time. I’ve been managing my debt for over a decade. Every year for the last six or seven years in particular it feels like I’m losing progressively more and more ground. Seven years ago I had a car; I could do things like deliver Uber Eats and DoorDash and make extra money whenever I ran out. It broke down in my driveway in 2022 and I couldn’t afford to take it to a mechanic to get it fixed. I sold it for $200. I haven’t been able to replace it. I don’t know what I’ll do if I ever need a car for anything. Luckily my day job is WFH.

Recently, I’ve been fighting with my old bank over charges it erroneously applied to my account in excess of $1000, causing it to go deep into the negatives. I’ve been slowly, slowly digging myself out of that hole thanks to some close friends and some very kind folks who follow me on the Internet. But it’s caused other debts to exacerbate. And tonight I realized that I am at the end of my rope. I can’t do this anymore. I won’t sit here and say that I’ve done everything right; certainly, more than one bad decision made out of desperation has put me here. I won’t make excuses for that. But I’m tired of being here, in this position. I’m tired of waking up in the middle of the night with heart palpitations because I got an alert from my bank that I’m in the negatives. I’m tired of getting emails and phone calls from debt collectors. I’m tired of living in basic survival mode with no discernible path forward. I’m tired of being tired, of not having the energy to be creative and do the work I’ve built an online presence around for five years. And paradoxically, I’m tired of asking people on the internet for money.

So I’m going to ask people on the internet for money, one final time.

I’ve set the goal at $10,000. This is far more than I’m honestly expecting to get, but if I get even a fraction of that I could finally obliterate my debts in a meaningful way. I do have specific milestones that I basically need to meet, otherwise this GFM doesn’t hit its maximum effectiveness, but otherwise the sky is the limit. If I reach the whole amount�� I don’t really know what I’ll do. Cry, maybe.

Milestones – bolded are high-priority

Milestone reached! $750 – gets my old bank account out of the negatives. Eliminates one vector of harassment, allows me to close that account and move on.

Milestone Reached! $1800 – does the above and allows me to fully pay any late or past-due loan payments missed as a result of the bank issue.

Milestone Reached! $6000 – does the above and allows me to fully pay off all installment loans

$8000 – does the above and allows me to pay off any remaining debts.

$10,000 – does the above and allows me to start saving.

$10,000+ – basically a moonshot, I have no idea what I’ll do with extra.

I fully do not expect you to donate to this. There are people trying to escape genocides, much more abject poverty, crushing medical debt, and so much more that feel – at least to me – so much more worthy of your attention and money. But just know that if you dodonate something, you have my undying appreciation. I will quite literally owe you my life.

I’m going to post this now before I get too emotional or lose my nerve entirely, but again: thank you. Even if all you do is read this.

—Kaile

#crowdfunding #financial aid #mutual aid

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theveil-and-thepath · 16 days ago

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Mini PAC n° 3: Three things that will be solved before the end of mercury retrograde

Pile 1 (red) - Pile 2 (orange) - Pile 3 (green) - Pile 4 (blue)

You can pick more than one! Just follow your heart!

The current mercury retrograde period ends on december 15th 2024, so this may also be read as 3 things that will soon happen to you.

*This is a source of entertainment, your destiny is in your hands.*

Pile 1

1 - Three of Wands , Four of Swords, XVI Thunderbolt (The Tower). Ring , Lily , Sun. Jupiter in Virgo – Patience

2 - The Lovers , Ace of Swords. Seven of Water (cups) - Projections. Fish , Clover , Ship. Moon in Virgo – Order

3 - The Chariot , Seven of Pentacles, Ace of Clouds (swords) - Consciousness. Fox , Stars , Whip. Venus in Virgo – Discrimination

🌸 You will hear news of someone who has been far away or hasn't been in touch for a while. Good for people in long distance relationships or who are waiting for your partner to return from a trip. The waiting time will be over.

🌸 Arrangements for a long awaited trip will be successful. The money for a trip will appear. A friend or partner may help you in these. You may receive good news from abroad. Some of you will receive a package or be able to ship something that may have been stuck (if you have a business and a customer had issues with their order, it will be resolved).

🌸 You will call out on someone, or pass judgement on them, vocally make a criticism towards them, after you have been observing their behaviour for a while. You may remove things or paperwork from your room/ or your life after you see it no longer aligns with your values. You can declutter your house and your life. You may be very black and white or extreme when it comes to deciding the objects that stay or leave.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Pile 2

1 - King of Wands , Four of Pentacles, Queen of Clouds (swords) - Morality. Ship , Coffin , Anchor. Mars in Libra – Choice

2 - Five of Swords , Nine of Cups, XII New vision (The Hanged Man). Tree , Man , Book. Jupiter in Scorpio – Manipulation

3 - Page of Swords , The High Priestess, Queen of Clouds (swords) - Morality.Stork , Dog , Tower. Sun in Aquarius – Idealism

🌸 I think you may change jobs, or decide you want a different boss, or go solo in business. You will decide to invest money in yourself and your future. You learn that clinging to your present self will not give you stability. You let go of your resistance to change.

🌸 You will undergo deep learning of some sort. It can be an argument you have, or a man in your life may bring something up that you hadn't noticed before. This can be self realization of your own patterns or about their behavior or someone else's behavior. It is a moment to be awakened and see which relationships are toxic in your life, or the bad habits you have, you will decide to be smarter from now on.

🌸 Sorry about the repetitive message, but you will decide to change your life in order to live according to your standards. You will raise your standards or realize that what you once dreamed and seemed far is, in fact, an achievable goal. After a period of introspection, as soon as mercury turns direct you may witness yourself changing your own life. This makes perfect sense for mercury retrograde in sagittarius, you will use all your intellect and intuition to enact change and give birth to a new life for yourself. Coming from the page to the queen of swords, you mature a lot and decide to bring a stable foundation.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Pile 3

1 - Three of Cups , Five of Swords, Ten of Clouds (swords) - Rebirth. Ring , Child , Moon. Venus in Cancer – Birth

2 - Seven of Cups , Eight of Cups, Knight of Fire (wands) - Intensity, Stork , Crossroad , Fish, Mars in Virgo – Criticism

3 - The Emperor , Six of Cups, Three of Rainbows (pentacles) - Guidance, Heart , Lily , Sun, Venus in Scorpio – Secrets

🌸 You will solve a problem with your mother or family. You either get the reconciliation you thought impossible, with them bringing a peace offer to you; or you break up and end a relationship to start anew. A new life or a new relationship may start after the old is gone.

🌸 If someone is rude to you or overly proud, you may turn your back to them temporarily. You will assess some of your life choices and chase only what makes you feel good.

🌸 The third thing that will be solved is that you will no longer feel lonely because you may discover someone at work has feelings for you. Or someone at work will be very gentle and nurturing and teach you or assist you with something. A man also has sexual intentions towards you, but you will see this as something to bring you great joy. I'd say a situation with a crush may be resolved or progress.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Pile 4

1 - Six of Wands , Queen of Wands, XXI Completion (The World), Rider , Key , Lily, Venus in Capricorn – Convention

2 - King of Pentacles , Eight of Wands, Four of Water (cups) - Turning in, Child , Fox , Clover, Venus in Cancer – Birth

3 - Nine of Cups , Ten of Wands, XXI Completion (The World), Heart , Sun , Crossroad, Mercury in Taurus – Resistance

🌸 You will successfully complete something that was difficult or that you depended upon someone else's input to conclude. The other person does their part, or you manage it yourself, but it is solved brilliantly. Something you do during this period will bear a LOT of fruit, and i think people will even compliment you, say you are perfect at something, they will look up to you, and all eyes and attention will be on you. You can be seen as beautiful as well, or a suitable and attractive person for marriage.

🌸 You will receive a surprise opportunity. I think you will spot, very cleverly, an opportunity. For some, you will set your eyes on a new romantic prospect. For others, you will find a way to speed up something that may have been slow.

🌸 You may second guess or start to question your relationship. Alternatively, you will ask yourself "Am i truly happy with all of these accomplishments? Was it all worth the effort?". You will take time to think if what you seem to love truly brings you joy.

#pick a card #Pic a card reading #pac reading #tarot reading #lenormand #tarot #theveil-and-thepath

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crazilust · 6 months ago

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My thoughts on these placements

based on my last lover. PSA: this might be biased. don’t take it TOO seriously, it’s mostly for me to purge this relationship. LETS GOOOOOOO !!

1. Gemini rising

Have you ever felt hella special to someone and then you see them interact with someone else and you’re like “oh. i’m… i’m just another one of their friends.” this is what it feels to be around a gemini rising sometimes. most of the ones I know, are either extremely popular, know alot of people or at the very least just hang out regularly with a bunch of people (might just be colleagues and not necessarily friends but they’re often surrounded). And they have this way of making you feel special, and funny and entertaining but most of the times, they’re the ones controlling the discussion and the flow of it.

when it came to my ex, he knew so many people and every person he was interacting with, he knew a little detail about them, and it made the person care so much about him. Even though he didn’t as much. Somewhat flimsy, it’s hard to know a Gemini rising’ true intentions with you.

2. Sagittarius sun

Sags don’t have the best reputation in my book, and he certainly didn’t help the stereotypes. The thing with Sags sun that I find hard to understand is the constant lie they have between who they truly are and who they want to be. It’s a constant battle of “don’t look too hard into my flaws bc soon enough I’ll be this grandiose super star and therefore you can forget about the awkward nerd you have in front of you.” Most of them are nerds, truly. But they hate it. As opposed to Aquarius sun’s desire to be different and their ability to stand on their two feet even tho they’re being outcast, a Sag sun’s deepest fear is to be seen as the weirdo they are. (that unfortunately they associated with being a loser)

If you’ve never been close with a Sag, you’ll be the first to deny this claim. “What?? The Sag I met was THE life of the party! No weirdo here.” or “The Sag I met was a boss ass btch, she had everything under control and very educated!!”

And that, my friends, is what we call a front. Sure, they can be the life of the party, usually very keen on getting their diplomas, but if you don’t know them, that’s the only part of them you’ll get to see cause it’s the part they deem acceptable.

I’m not even gonna comment on the commitment issues, cause yall… you know it already lmao.

3. Virgo moon

Nobody hates an underdeveloped virgo moon more than they hate themselves. So critical, judgemental and harsh. They notice absolutely everything that you do and instead of going to you and confront you about the issue, they’ll keep it in, and throw it back to your face the minute it’s convenient for them (when they effed up). Very hard to love because they simply can’t accept that you love and accept their own flaws. I remember my ex asking me litteraly all the time “How can you love me if I’m not as pretty as before” (it was in his head, he was just as cute) “How can you love me if I don’t have a job?” (He had lost his job for only 2 months at that point) No matter what I’d say, he couldn’t believe that I loved him wholeheartedly, no matter what.

Sometimes, when I look at a virgo moon, unevolved ofc, all I can see is pain. Virgo is an already hard sign to have imo (sorry!) but in the moon placement, it’s just sad. These natives are so harsh on themselves and accept no help whatsoever. And if you do try, they’ll do everything to push you away and trust me, one thing Virgos do is succeed.

4. Libra Mars

As a scorpio mars, libra mars is not my favorite placement. But as I checked my vedic chart and I do, in fact, have a libra mars, I hate that I understand why they act the way they do.

They care so much about everything being perfect, everyone getting along and most importantly being at peace with the ones they love. The cliches are true for a reason, they dislike conflict and yes, are passive agressive but it’s because they don’t want to lose the people they love with petty drama.

So they don’t say anything, and they accomodate even tho that one thing irritated them and then when you confront them about something, they bring you everything you’ve done wrong for the past six months. That’s the part I hate, ofc, but I also hate that I get it.

I get it. They’re the biggest people pleasers and when they don’t say anything about something that upsets them, they actually think they’re doing it for the greater good. They obviously analyse everything you’re doing wrong, but they don’t mind not saying it cause they’d rather be at peace with you. So how dare you don’t do the same for them?

That’s the mentality. Unfortunately for them, it brings bigger conflict because then you feel betrayed they never said anything to begin with. UGH.

SPEAK YOUR MIND, Libras of any placements actually <3

5. Sagittarius Mercury

If you consider yourself soft, delicate, sensitive, do not date a Sag mercury. These people are ruthless. As friends, I find them hilarious and fun to be around, but as lovers I would never do that to myself again. Just never <3. They are very blunt (which doesn’t mean they won’t lie! We’re talking about a Jupiter ruled sign here yall), but in a way that won’t make you feel good about yourself. They’ll often use humour to attack you and then use it as a shield the moment you call them out on it (i.e : It was just a jokeeeeee!)

Gives very good advice, I’ll give them that. I think sometimes I can have a little bit of tunnel vision and with Sag mercuries, they’re able to tap you on the shoulder and be like “Have you consider this tho?” in the most casual way and you’re like “oh.. no. yes. you’re right”

6. Aquarius Venus

If you love the friends to lovers trope, you’ll just love dating an Aquarius venus because that friendship-like relationship will be the foundation of your dynamic. Everything feels fun, the complicity is at an all time high.

But the commitment.

Now, I’ve read multiple times here that Aquarius venus is actually very committed to the person they love when they like you. Well, I guess I wasn’t his person cause I only felt the commitment phobia.

Anyways, I still loved the dynamic of the relationship, but I can’t lie, it didn’t feel serious at all.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~••~•~•~•~•~•

Well that’s all for me, today. Love yall!!

Remember, these are the big 6 of my ex so it is biased nothing to take too personal but if it applies and resonates, great💛

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justinspoliticalcorner · 2 months ago

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It is hard to imagine a worse candidate for the American presidency in 2024 than Donald J Trump. His history of dishonesty, hypocrisy and greed makes him wholly unfit for the office. A second Trump term would erode the rule of law, diminish America’s global standing and deepen racial and cultural divides. Even if he loses, Mr Trump has shown that he will undermine the election process, with allies spreading unfounded conspiracy theories to delegitimise the results. There are prominent Republicans – such as the former vice-president Dick Cheney – who refused to support Mr Trump owing to the threat he poses. Gen Mark Milley, the chairman of the joint chiefs of staff under Mr Trump, calls his former boss a “fascist”. America was founded in opposition to absolute monarchy. The Republican nominee models himself after the leader he most admires: Russia’s autocratic president, Vladimir Putin. Mr Trump’s authoritarianism may finish US democracy. He has praised and promised to pardon those convicted in the January 6 insurrection. He has suggested bypassing legal norms to use potentially violent methods of repression, blurring the lines between vigilantism, law enforcement and military action, against groups – be they Democrats or undocumented immigrants – he views as enemies. His team has tried to distance itself from the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025 and its extreme proposals – such as mass firings of civil servants and erasing women’s rights – that poll poorly. But it is likely that, in office, Mr Trump would adopt many of these intolerant, patriarchal and discriminatory plans. He aims to dismantle the government to enrich himself and evade the law. If Republicans gain control of the Senate, House and White House, he would interpret it as a mandate to silence his critics and entrench his power. Mr Trump is a transactional and corrupting politician. His supporters see this as an advantage. Christian nationalists want an authoritarian regime to enforce religious edicts on Americans. Elon Musk wants to shape the future without regulatory oversight. Both put self-interest ahead of the American people. Democracy erodes slowly at first, then all at once. In office, Mr Trump appointed three supreme court justices, who this summer blocked efforts to hold him accountable for trying to overturn the 2020 election: their immunity ruling renders the president “a king above the law”, in the words of the liberal justice Sonia Sotomayor. Since Kamala Harris stepped into the spotlight following Joe Biden’s exit, her campaign has been a masterclass in political jujitsu, deftly flipping Mr Trump’s perceived strengths into glaring weaknesses. With a focus on joy, the vice-president sharply contrasted with Mr Trump’s grim narrative of US decline. In their sole televised debate, Ms Harris skillfully outmaneuvered Mr Trump, who fell into her traps, appearing angry and incoherent. She is confident and composed. He sounds unhinged. [...] Political hope fades when we settle for what is, instead of fighting for what could be. Ms Harris embodies the conviction that it’s better to believe in democracy’s potential than to surrender to its imperfections. The Republican agenda is clear: voter suppression, book bans and tax cuts for billionaires. Democrats seek global engagement; the GOP favours isolation. The Biden-Harris administration laid the groundwork for a net zero America. A Trumpian comeback would undo it. A Harris win, with a Democratic Congress, means a chance to restore good governance, create good jobs and lead the entire planet’s climate efforts. Defeating Mr Trump protects democracy from oligarchy and dictatorship. There is too much at stake not to back Ms Harris for president.

The Guardian Editorial Board's endorsement of Kamala Harris for the 2024 US Presidential Election (10.23.2024).

The Guardian’s editorial board gave a powerful endorsement for Kamala Harris, as our democracy’s survival depends on her winning.

#Editorials #The Guardian #United States #National Politics #Kamala Harris #Donald Trump #2024 Presidential Election #2024 Elections

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lightningant · 5 days ago

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There's a lot of fluff about how Harry shows no sign of trauma from his upbringing but maybe it's because I was neglected and often spoken of as extremely well-adjusted, but to me Harry seems to be a pretty natural response to a combination of neglect and a stable upbringing? He's not like. Traumatized. But a lot of people just develop maladaptive habits from these circumstances. Like:

Dissociative tendencies. I know this one is not intentional, but he shows constant lack of focus which interferes with his schooling and will often just space out and stare at things. This is used as a device to point the reader towards plot relevant items and turn them from irrelevant details, but it is something he does.

Harry does not actually distrust adults outright at first! He goes to teachers for help! But he tends to disrespect them, and struggles to think of adults as figures of authority the moment they slip up. Hagrid's bumbling chaos, Quirrell's nerves, Snape beefing with an 11-year-old, McGonagall not taking his Very Real Concerns seriously, Vernon's bluster, these are moments Harry discards their authority - that child thought McGonagall was going to burn him at the stake at first, but was barely shaken by her later. And it makes sense! You are a powerless child, you are looked down on, but the "consequences" you face are things you got used to and feel are normal, so you take strength from being unafraid of punishment.

A lot of fluff is made about abuse victims and independence because yeah, obviously, but I do think a lot of his savior/martyr complex is egged on by his servile role; he lived his entire life apart from the Dursleys, but they relied on him. To be crude, when someone shits the bed he puts it in the washer. And I do think he takes satisfaction in being the best man for the job, and I do think that can breed a whole host of mental problems that will lead you to a fated suicide duel with a Dark Lord

The books are mean-spirited in general, but he learned a lot of the fundamentals on engaging with the world from the Dursleys. He's pretty consistently petty and vindictive! And I genuinely believe Harry is, personally, as a character, fatphobic (in addition to the doylist text being fatphobic), because it was something Dudley gets criticized for and thus something that proves Dudley isn't infallible, and he would have definitely fixated on it and felt comfortable doing so, because that's just how the Dursleys talk about people.

For that matter, he is in general stifled by the inner lives of others - he's somehow the most socially stunted person in a trio with Hermoine in it. He is at all times deeply uncomfortable by the thought that other people have feelings and motivations, and reifies people with strong, clear roles in his life, and a lot of his development is realizing there are people behind those roles. I stand by the fact that Harry naming a child after Snape is a symptom of unaddressed mental illness.

This boy is so unbelievably susceptible to mania. I'll acknowledge a lot of his behaviour is teenage bull-headedness but the way the extremes of "I need to be doing something Now" and catastrophizing only gets worse...You know when he's 30 he's going to get prescribed mood stabilizers

And these are all things that can spiral into really toxic and self-destructive behaviour, which we know because that's what happens in the books. I think part of pushing his trauma in fanfiction is accepting that sometimes when someone is traumatized they develop an awful personality instead of PTSD.

(You may now reread this entire post and think about Tom Riddle.)

#metaposting #the more bad personality traits he has the more love in my heart i hold for him.

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loganhowlettshousewife · 25 days ago

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the librarian

logan howlett x latina!reader

summary: after the events of logan (2017), in a world where logan survives, he and laura move to a small town to start a new life. laura quickly becomes very attached to the librarian, and seeing you with his daughter makes logan fall hard.

warnings: swearing, insecurity on logan's part, potentially slightly out of character but i’m choosing to believe that logan softens up a bit after laura

this is the longest oneshot i've ever written so please be kind because it took a lot of time. my first language is not english, so please do not be rude when offering feedback. i am also not latina, so feel free to offer constructive criticism if you notice anything wrong in the fic.

special thank you to @raeinyourdreams for the spanish dialogue.

series masterlist - my masterlist

you love your job. the library is quiet, peaceful, and you spend every day surrounded by your favourite thing: books. those who come to the library are typically kind, hardly do you have to deal with rude comments or entitled behaviour. you get to plan fun events for the towns kids and toddlers to introduce them to the joys of reading. and on every school day, between 3:00 and 4:00 pm, you get to see laura howlett.

the first time she came into the library, it wasn’t planned. you live in a small town, with an even smaller school, and when laura’s dad failed to show up on time to pick her up, she was sent over to the library next door. she’d stomped through the automatic doors, her small frame tense with irritation, her jaw clenched, slamming her bag down on the ground beside her as she sat down at one of the small circular tables set up in a corner of the small building.

she crossed her arms and stared at the door as if her dad might finally show up if she thought about it hard enough, never sparing you a second glance. so you’d left her alone to stew in her rage, putting away books from the return pile, glancing at the clock every few minutes.

you couldn’t hide your staring when her (extremely attractive) dad finally showed up, heavy footfalls crossing the doorstep and thick, tanned biceps filling your vision. laura cursed at him in rapid spanish, and he grumbled that he didn’t understand a word she was saying. you giggled to yourself at the thought that you never would have gotten away with using such language at her age.

the next time you saw her was a week later, and this time, despite her heavy glare and intense ‘don’t talk to me’ attitude, you approached her. her gaze was suspicious and distrusting as you spoke, asking her in your native tongue if she wanted a book to read while she waited. she’d stared at you for a long minute before saying, “¿hablas español?”

she slowly opened up to you after that, like a flower blossoming in the springtime, short sentences turning into longer rants, into admittance of her inner thoughts and worries and struggles. you give her book recommendations that are popular within her age group and help her with her homework when she struggles with the material, translating words she doesn't understand perfectly. in return, she tells you about her school and home life, about how she’d moved here with her dad, about how she’s only really known him a few months.

you don’t know her past, only the glimpses she’s given you here and there, anecdotes she drops into conversations before changing the subject just as quickly, but you know that she’s struggled with adjusting to all the changes in her life. you’re grateful that she’s allowed you such insight into her mind, that you can help her even in small ways. you can’t help it - she’s wormed her way into your heart, with her quick quips and short temper and snide comments.

“¿crees que mi papá es guapo?” she asks you suddenly. it’s an evening like any other, the two of you working through her science homework together. you choke on your saliva as an image of logan howlett flashes through your mind, his stern face and the hard intensity of his eyes, his large stature and broad back that you always watch, entranced, when he walks out of the library with laura in tow.

“¿por qué preguntas?” you ask her instead of answering as you erase a mistake on her paper, blowing away the leftover scraps the eraser leaves behind.

“las mamás de thea estaban hablando de lo guapo que es.” laura replies, a grimace twisting her face. her eyes narrow as she observes your carefully blank expression. “¿tu opinas igual?”

you shake your head, clacking your tongue against your teeth, “mejor concéntrate en tu tarea.”

the howletts live two houses down from you, on a street of mismatched suburban houses and carefully manicured lawns. sometimes you’ll see logan outside, smoking a cigar on the porch in a thin wife-beater that shows off his large arms, watchful gaze observing the neighbourhood as though surveying the area for potential threats.

he seems oblivious to the stares he receives from both women and men passing by, walking their dogs or going for a jog, faltering when they pass his house, interest and attraction and jealousy, staring for a few moments too long to be casual. he never gives any of them the time of day, doesn’t respond to their small-talk questions or smiles. his frown just deepens, putting emphasis on the lines that mark his face, a physical manifestation of a life of constant worry and pain.

you’re admiring him from afar as you often do, peering through the window above your sink as you rinse your dishes, when you notice a gorgeous woman approaching his house. she’s all long legs and glowing dark skin, walking right up to him with all the confidence in the world.

and logan howlett, the brooding, mysterious man who keeps to himself and hardly interacts with anyone unless absolutely necessary, smiles at her. it’s a barely-there expression, a softening of his usual gruff persona and resting bitch face, but you notice it nonetheless. the woman is clearly emboldened by his response and leans into his space as she speaks, pressing a hand to his bicep, skin against skin, mouth moving in words you can’t hear.

you look away, pulling the curtains closed on the window, preferring to watch the pale fabric sway slightly than whatever interaction is happening there. you scrub your dishes a little harder than necessary after that, but no one is there to see it but you.

laura packs up her bag, shoving the papers inside randomly, no reason or order to it. you grit your teeth at the thought of how wrinkled and disorganised it’ll all be later, when she needs to find something specific or when it comes time to hand in her work to her teacher, but you keep your mouth diligently shut, because if there’s one thing you know about laura, it’s that she’s stubborn and temperamental and doesn’t take well to criticism.

logan stands beside the front desk, not far from where you’re flipping through the pile of books that had been returned while you were busy with laura, his hands on his hips as he watches her somehow both rush through the task and simultaneously take much too long to complete it. there’s obvious adoration in his eyes, a fondness that can’t be faked by the best of actors.

“do you-,” he starts, stops, an unfinished question that lasts a few seconds while he chases the right words, “laura really likes havin’ you around. talks about you a lot when you’re gone. so i - uh - wanted to invite you over to dinner. no pressure.”

you beam, books all but forgotten, “really?”

he grunts in response, shrugging. it’s not much as far as responses go, not terribly enthusiastic, but he wouldn’t have brought it up to you if he was against the idea, you assume. so you place a hand on his arm, more for your sake than his, enjoying the feeling of his sun-warmed skin and the smooth dark hair against your fingertips, catching his attention so his eyes fall on you instead of laura.

you think of the woman you’d seen speaking to him a few days ago, and a thrill runs through you, a stupidly possessive thrill that you have no right to feel. there’s nothing going on between you and logan, just mutual care for a troubled girl who hasn’t made any friends in school even after weeks.

this is for her, you tell yourself. to make sure she has a support system, people she trusts, to hopefully get her to open herself up to the possibility of other relationships, friendships with children her age who can help her learn what it means to let go and be a child for a bit. but in your mind, there’s still a rather large part of you preening at the fact that you’re going to have dinner at the howlett’s, and you bet that other woman can’t say the same.

“just let me know when,” you say, “i’m not typically very busy so whatever works on your schedule.”

“¿podría ser hoy?” laura asks, bounding up to the two of you, “porfis.”

you can’t say no to her wide eyes and hopeful smile, so you close up the library early. it’s fine, you live in a small town and no one ever really visits the library late at night anyway. the only person who may want to visit has her own key, a copy you’d made after finding the same teenage girl sleeping on the floor of the library six days in a row, having broken into the building each time.

it’s a short walk to the howlett’s house, laura talking your ear off the entire way there, ignoring the looks logan shoots her when she inevitably switches into spanish seemingly without noticing. but you know what it’s like to speak more than one language, you know the way conversations flit in and out between languages, and you can tell it’s often purposeful, done to get a rise out of logan.

“it’s good that you can understand her,” logan says as he unlocks the front door, his daughter running into the house and leaving the two of you behind, “i can’t, half the time. probably makes me sound like a shit dad.”

“it doesn’t,” you assure him, “laura talks about you all the time when you’re not around and she thinks you’re wonderful. she said you’ve only been in her life a few months? you can’t be expected to learn a whole language in that time.”

logan ignores your praise just as you’d expected him to do, “i think you remind her of home. it was fucked up but there were good parts. and i took her away from there. i did it for her but she still had to leave everythin’ and everyone she knew.”

“i’ll gladly be that piece of home if she needs it,” you say softly, “you got her out of a bad place. i don’t know much but i know that. her home is wherever you are.”

talking to logan is frighteningly easy, and the conversation continues as he heads into the kitchen. their house is nice, clean but sparsely decorated, not the artfully minimalist look of a magazine cover but rather the home of someone who never really knew how to settle down, how to allow a place to become more than just a shell, a temporary refuge to eventually be left behind. it screams logan, and makes you wonder what exactly he’s been through.

but laura’s things are strewn around the place, a jacket of hers thrown on the couch, comic books that have seen better days piled on the coffee table, school papers on the countertop. it chases away the cold feeling that would otherwise linger between these walls.

you help logan cook, not willing to stand around doing nothing while you wait for the food to be ready. you admit to him that you’re surprised at his talent in the kitchen, and for a moment his jaw tenses like he’s going to tell you something difficult but he doesn’t. his arm brushes against yours as you hand him the spices that he requests, and goosebumps raise on your arms at the feeling.

laura eats like she hasn’t had food in days, and says the meal tastes better because you helped make it, which makes you laugh and logan roll his eyes. chiding laura on her table manners reminds you of your childhood, and an image flashes in your mind, unbidden, of you in this very same setting but as laura’s mother and logan’s wife.

it’s a vision you push away, one you’ll allow to linger as you’re falling asleep but that has no place in your thoughts now.

“next time we should do this at my house,” you comment, without really thinking over your words, your attention on laura and logan’s hand that lingers close to your thigh under the table, not touching you but present enough to offer a good distraction, “to make things fair, i mean.”

“next time?” logan repeats, and you falter, realising what you’d offered. there’s a familiarity in the way you’d made the offer, a throwaway comment, a familiarity that doesn’t exist between you and logan - at least not yet.

“if you’d want,” you offer slowly, “and if laura wants. i just - had fun tonight. it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to do it again.”

and you do. approximately once a week you start to have dinner with the howletts, switching between their place and yours. they’re a familiar presence in your life now, enough that you don’t startle when one of them sneaks up behind you, impossibly light on their feet, the stealth of hunters stalking their prey. you’d told this to logan and he’d raised an eyebrow at you and smirked but refused to explain his reaction to your words.

you start to teach logan recipes from your childhood, the sweet spices and flavours that bring you back to being laura’s age filling the kitchen. you argue with logan about not needing a recipe, saying you just know when it’s right.

though she never comments on it, you see the way laura’s smile brightens every time you place a dish on the table. you hope it brings her a modicum of comfort, reminds her of her place of birth the way it always does for you.

you haven’t felt so free in a long time, and you come to the belated realisation that you’ve been lonely lately, something you can only differentiate now that you feel it shifting. you love your friends but they have busy lives of their own, and you love your library but books can’t compensate for human contact, try as you might.

“te noto estresada,” laura comments, poking your hand when you stare off into space for the third time that day.

“lo estoy,” you respond, “se averió una tubería y ahora tengo que llamar al plomero, pero no quiero..”

most kids wouldn’t care to have a conversation about these more monotonous, adult subjects, but laura pauses in her homework to give it a genuine reflection. she taps the eraser-end of her pencil against the table, nodding to herself like she’s just come up with an obvious solution.

“no tienes que. mi papá sabe reparar cosas,” she says, “pídele el favor.”

you hate to take advice from a child, even if that child is laura, who often acts much older than her age, and you hate to bother logan even more, but you don’t make much as a librarian and if there’s any way to save some extra money, you’re willing to embarrass yourself in front of the hot man you may have a slight crush on.

you broach the topic when he comes to pick her up as usual, and to your surprise, he agrees easily. you don’t even have to ask the question, as soon as he’s heard the problem he’s offering up his help.

he shows up at your house later that night, deeming it fine to leave laura home alone since there’s only a 40% chance she’ll break something. he’s dressed in only a thin wife-beater, biceps on full display as he hunches under your sink, the muscles in his back flexing as he works. you stay in the kitchen, using the excuse that you should make sure he’s not making it worse, but spend the entire time staring at the shape of him, large and broad and everything you want.

“thank you,” you tell him when he’s finished, handing him a beer that you’d bought specifically for when he showed up at your place.

“no problem,” he says, shrugging, not making eye contact with you in a way that’s uncharacteristic of him, “no point havin’ you pay someone to do it when i can do it just fine.”

“but you had no obligation to help me,” you remind him softly.

“you help me all the time,” he responds gruffly, “you deal with laura’s shit and don’t complain. you spend time with us even if you got your own life to worry about. it’s only fair.”

you frown at that, “i enjoy spending time with you, logan. it’s not a favour of some kind that you have to repay.”

he grunts an acknowledgement that you don’t quite believe, quiet as he finishes the rest of his beer, and then he’s gone.

it’s hard not to know everyone in a small town, forcing you to make polite small talk with people you walk by who ask about your life and your family and friends and how’s your job going? it’s frustrating, one of the reasons you plan your errands for later in the evening, when the crowds are thinner and most of the people in the grocery store are people like you, who don’t want to be bothered, and teenagers wreaking havoc in the aisles.

you’re looking at fruit when you hear someone call your name, a voice that’s not immediately familiar, which raises alarm bells in your mind, the sound crescendoing into a siren as the click-clack of heels approaches. you resolutely keep your eyes in front of you, hoping that if you look very busy choosing avocados, perhaps you won’t be bothered.

this technique fails immediately, a woman coming up to your side and picking up the avocado you’d just put back, squeezing it to check if it’s ripe. the act is innocent, trying to put you at ease, but you know better. if she was just here to grab groceries she wouldn’t have called out your name, wouldn’t be tilting her head towards you with a saccharine smile.

you’ve seen her around, though you can’t remember her name, an older woman with two boys whose divorce was the talk of the town for a few months last year. from afar she appears put-together, dressed in business-casual attire indicating that she hadn’t had the time to change from her work clothes, blonde hair slicked back into a bun. but up close you can see the strands of hair that had begun falling out, the way her eyes were tight at the corners. a tired single mother.

you feel a pang of guilt at the way you’d immediately wanted to dismiss her, remind yourself that you have the day off tomorrow so you can sleep in, and smile at her.

“so, i heard a rumour, and you know i’m not one to gossip,” she glances your way expectantly, so you prompt her to continue, “which is why i’m asking you directly. you and logan howlett… do you have something going on?”

you pause, considering. it wouldn’t be a lie to say yes, as there is something going on between you and logan, though you know how she’ll interpret the words. you know that she would return home and immediately call everyone she knows to spread the news, and since the townspeople hadn’t left logan alone since he’d moved here, it would eventually spread to him, someone or another asking him about it, pressing for details.

“we’re… friends,” you settle on eventually, “i help laura with her homework sometimes after school and we got to know each other from that.”

it’s a truthful answer, if not deliberately vague. you hate to be the center of drama or attention - there’s a reason you chose to work at a library, quiet and unassuming and not interesting enough to be the subject of speculation.

she giggles, a true laugh, her expression softening with a hint of relief. she bumps you with her shoulder as if speaking to a longtime friend and says, “well, just between you and me, i know a lot of women who are going to be relieved to hear that.”

you and logan grow closer, to the point where laura no longer initiates most of the time you spend together. you introduce him to your favourite movies when he mentions how long it’s been since he watched one, evenings spent giggling at the television screen while laura sleeps upstairs, having gone to bed long ago.

hours pass so quickly with logan by your side, until the sky resembles a painting, and he walks you home under the constellations of stars. he hangs by the door for a while longer, the both of you drifting, not quite ready to part ways, but you both have jobs in the morning and so you reluctantly bid him goodnight, letting the door to your home shut behind you, hiding the way you beam when he says it back.

dinner comes and goes like any other week, and soon enough you’re standing in logan’s kitchen helping him clean the dishes. this is the part where laura leaves the two of you alone, not wanting to be dragged into the chore, slipping out in that creepily silent way of hers.

there’s a tension that clings to logan tonight, a darkness that’s permeated over the evening, one you’d noticed when he’d come to pick up laura from the library and had almost said something to you but stopped. it wasn’t unusual for logan to be silent, letting you fill the majority of the conversation with your stories and laughter, responding with comments that make you laugh, proud smiles tugging on his lips when your body curls into him.

you’re not surprised when he puts the final dish in the washing machine and turns to face you, something akin to determination in his eyes, though you hardly know anything that could be the cause.

“another parent asked me out today,” he says, “the mom of someone in laura’s class.”

“oh,” you say, certain being stabbed in the heart would hurt less. you’re suddenly slightly nauseous, and you briefly consider using it as an excuse to go home early, but you’re not a coward. you won’t run from a conversation that’s inevitable.

one day logan will meet someone, whether that day is today you aren’t sure, and he’s going to fall for them. you consider the possibility that that person could be you, but you’re normally good at reading people, at seeing the subtleties in body language to indicate attraction, and logan has never given you any signs of your feelings for him being reciprocated.

it could be that he’s generally just a difficult person to read, that over the course of his life he’s had to learn to bury his emotions in a way many people don’t. it’s possible, believable even, with how long it had taken you to learn the intricacies of his expressions, the way the slightest tension between his brows could mean several different things. or, you think, he’s just not into you.

“is that good?” you ask, instead of voicing your current thoughts, which are a mantra of: fuck, fuck, no, fuck, please no.

“no,” he replies like it should be obvious, “her son is an asshole who tried to bully laura on her first day of school. she punched him.”

“good for her,” is your only reply.

you feel awful for the way his vehement denial makes you feel, a pleased warmth spreading in your stomach, a happiness you’ll carry with you all the way home. it’s not your place, and yet here you are, hoping that he doesn’t find love, thinking that you’d rather he be alone forever than with someone other than you. it’s selfish, cruel, makes it hard to keep your expression neutral over the disgust you feel at yourself rising.

logan’s watching you carefully, “it is good for her. she almost got suspended but i think even the principal was afraid of her.”

the conversation pitters out, your answering hum the only reply you can give with your mind wandering. it’s the perfect time to ask, the conversation relevant enough that it won’t be coming out of nowhere, a casual query that he can refuse to answer if he so desires.

“but otherwise,” you say, “if there was no history between her son and laura and she’d asked you out, what would you have said?”

“no,” he says again. quick, easy, painless and yet horribly painful for you.

“is there anyone in town that you’ve noticed?” you ask because you can’t help yourself, the pull of curiosity is too strong, almost as strong as the pull that always brings you into logan’s orbit when you stand close enough, bringing you unconsciously closer.

there’s a pause long enough to make your heart race, the beat so loud you can hear it ringing in your ears, a hard rhythm that’s much too rapid to be healthy. you wonder what logan can see on your face, following the way his impassive gaze traces over you, catching on your eyes and the quirk of your mouth.

when he speaks at last you can hardly hear it over the rushing sound of your anxiety. “i’ve noticed you.”

“what?”

“you,” he repeats, shrugging like it doesn’t matter, “but i’m old and worn. too much for a pretty thing like you. and there’s so much you don’t know about my life, horrible shit i’ve done that’ll make you look at me different. i’m angry and violent and i drink too much to deal with my emotions, even if i’ve cut back since laura. and her, laura. i got a kid now. can’t force that responsibility onto you too.”

you lift a hand up, silently asking him to stop, to allow you time to process the words you’re fairly certain were not a hallucination. he refuses to look at you, jaw clenched, staring instead at his hands the way one would stare at a murder weapon, an angry glare that speaks of hatred, pain and resentment.

it’s that look that makes the decision for you. you place your hand on top of his, dark glare now pointed at your hand, faltering when your fingers trace the grooves between his knuckles. you allow him a moment of silence to process, content to wait now that your mind is no longer racing, overthinking every breath and creating unlikely scenarios. rather, you feel calm, and you hope that the way you squeeze his hand transfers some of that peace to him.

“is this your version of asking me out?” you ask when his eyes lock on yours, a raging storm hiding behind the calm facade of his careful mask, “because normally people don’t try to convince the other person to say no.”

“i’m not asking anything,” he replies, voice hoarse, “i know how i feel about you. but i’m a mess and i can’t ask you to deal with that.”

“alright, well, even if you’re not asking this is me saying yes,” you tell him, turning his hand so his palm faces up, lacing your fingers together, skin still slightly damp from the washing you’d been doing.

he doesn’t let go of your hand, but he changes the subject. you don’t argue. logan has some sort of feelings for you, though he hasn’t put them into clear words, and for now, that’s enough. you can wait while he wades through whatever self-hatred spiral is happening in his mind, the excuses he’ll give you for why you can’t be together. because he was holding back before, when he’d explained why he wasn’t good enough for you. he’d forced himself to stop talking, but you can tell there’s more behind that angry rant.

so instead of pushing, you let the rest of the evening pass as it usually would, playing monopoly with laura, her temper rising when the game doesn’t go her way, cussing at the board in spanish. she’s creative with her insults and you press your lips together tightly to hold back a laugh. you’re certain logan knows what she’s saying, or can at least make an educated guess, but he doesn’t comment on it.

she heads upstairs when she loses, stomping her feet down on every step, a strange contrast to how she often moves like a shadow. you’re content to let her walk away, knowing the anger isn’t real - she’ll grumble and stew in the loss for a bit before moving on as she always does.

“you need to know what you’re getting into,” logan says, and it takes you a while to piece together what he means, your earlier conversation pushed to the back of your mind during monopoly. “if you agree to this and then realise it’s too much and leave - i don’t think laura’d be able to handle it.”

there’s an unspoken, and me, in the way he watches you, vulnerable, something logan loathes to be. so you wrap your arms around him, not for the first time, but it hasn’t yet lost its novelty. you feel his body heat despite the layers of clothing separating the two of you from making direct skin-to-skin contact, sighing in pleasure as you relax with your head on his chest.

“we’re not strangers logan,” you say, “i know who you are, how you treat me, how you treat your daughter. and if more of this is what it’s like to date you, to be with you, i don’t see myself leaving.”

diversity december taglist: @raeinyourdreams @meetmypointlessaddiction @chubbyhedgehog @yxtkiwiyxt @isepod @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes

latina!reader taglist: @naggywaggy @mami-veracruz @spencerswh0r3 @gl1ndathegoodwitch @taextannie

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qqueenofhades · 1 year ago

Text

Good Omens Season 2: Some Thoughts (and also Screaming)

First, /screams

Second, obligatory disclaimer that this meta contains MAJOR SPOILERS for all six episodes. If you somehow have managed to remain virginally unspoiled, look away now, scroll past, or add "good omens s2" and "good omens spoilers" to your block list, as those are the tags I have been using for all posts and reblogs.

Third, /screams more

Okay okay okay. Deep breaths.

Anyway, so, uh, how about all that, huh? First, the good thing about the tone of the season overall was that it felt considerably darker and more adult, in a good way. We didn't have the precocious kiddies, the kitsch and literally-comphet Anathema and Newt, the so-clever narration, etc. All that was gone, which makes sense when you consider that a) the end of last season saw them reboot into an entirely new universe, and b) the fact that God has gone silent is, in fact, a major plot point for the season. We don't have Her slyly telling us the story, or indeed anything, and everyone is left to make their own judgments and take their own actions. Which, obviously, gets them into a lot of trouble, especially when Metatron (the Voice of God, aka someone acting in the belief that they're speaking for God and therefore doing terrible harm) swoops in with the ultimate buzzkill at the end of episode 6. But we'll get to that.

The downside was that the main, present-day plot (hiding Gabriel in the bookshop and trying to get Nina and Maggie to fall in love) was fairly thin, felt stretched out and at times weirdly paced, and otherwise existed mostly to get us to That Ending and the setup for season 3. But the ending was so damn good (if obviously, very painful) that I can't be TOO mad, not least because we spent six episodes with them just making absolutely no pretense about the whole thing being as incredibly homosexual as possible. I'll be honest: I did not think they were going to actually, explicitly go there. Neil Gaiman has been so consistent about "your interpretations are valid and you're welcome to read it however you want, but the only canon is what's on screen," which I think is frankly a good thing (not least since the Neil GAYman Cinematic Universe is consistently very, very good to us queers), that I just... didn't quite think they'd pull the trigger. Sir Terry is dead and can't have active input, this is based on a book published 30 years ago, maybe they didn't want to make it LIKE THAT... etc. I certainly hoped, but I didn't really think they would.

Uh. Well.

As I said in my various semi-coherent liveblog posts, I honestly don't think there was a single straight person in the entire season, among both major and background characters. Aziraphale/Crowley and Maggie/Nina are the obvious paralleling couples, but Beelzebub (using "they" pronouns and addressed as "Lord" despite presenting as femme/femme-adjacent) is clearly nonbinary and therefore also queer, and the countless gay/queer side characters were just /chefs kiss. From Job's son making a sassy pass at Aziraphale, to the random Scottish goon with Grindr on his phone (which he then gives to Aziraphale, because what is subtlety), to the interracial couple with the trans spouse at the Pride and Prejudice ball, there was just a lot of casual, unremarked, non-story-critical queer representation visible at every turn. It's like the NGCU saw the bigots wailing about Sandman season 1 being extremely gay and went CHALLENGE ACCEPTED, LET'S MAKE GOOD OMENS 2 EVEN MORE GAY.

God bless.

Obviously, Jon Hamm as Amnesia!Gabriel stole the show (he was SO fucking funny) and it was also incredibly fun to watch Miranda Richardson repurposed as a scheming demon. Nina Sosanya also reappeared as Nina the coffee shop owner, which leads us into the Maggie-and-Nina subplot. They're obviously, wildly, incredibly clearly an analogue for Aziraphale and Crowley themselves, but they're also each, crucially, a mix of both. On the surface, Maggie is Aziraphale: the plump, blonde, earnest, sweet-natured one owning a slightly dated book music shop and somewhat clueless about emotional nuances, while Nina is (also on the surface) Crowley, the hard-edged dark loner who doesn't want to open herself up to people or be spotted caring. But emotionally, Maggie is Crowley: the one openly pining, clearly besotted, only wanting to hang around their crush and do whatever they can to make themselves useful, while Nina is Aziraphale. Interested but reticent, attracted but conflicted, trapped in an abusive relationship with a demanding offscreen "lover" (Lindsay/Heaven) who tries to constantly control and shame them without ever offering much, if anything in return. By the end, they bring themselves around to what Maggie/Crowley are offering, but by then, well. We've got a lot more problems on our hands.

As I also said in my earlier posts, this entire thing has always been a metaphor for religion, queerness, and what religion -- especially abusive, fundamentalist, organized religion -- does to queer people, but they really cranked the FUCK out of that metaphor this season. Aziraphale is guilt-tripped, controlled, and shamed for his attraction to Crowley at every turn. He is torn between his imagined duty to Heaven, in all its ignorant, uncaring, bureaucratic, gratuitously cruel system that he still insists on seeing the best in because he can't bear the alternative, and the chaotic and sometimes grey but genuinely more good morality that Crowley offers him. (Can I just say, we were explicitly shown that the two of them together doing "just a little miracle" are more powerful than Heaven AND Hell combined.) And at the end, he's told that the only way he can be with Crowley -- what Metatron explicitly blackmails him with -- is if they both go back to heaven, submit themselves to the cruel system again and give up everything that has made them who they are: their home in London, their human friends, their reliance on each other, their independence, their own ways of doing things. You can be queer in this (religious) framework, but only the limited, watered-down, controlled, controllable, constantly-under-supervision kind of queer, which relies on both you and your lover "converting" back to the true faith. And if you don't cooperate, they will literally kidnap you, lie to you, manipulate you, take you from your soulmate, and force you right back into doing the one thing (destroying the world) that you never, ever wanted to do in the first place, because in their minds, that is still better than this. It's for your own good.

Ouch.

And the thing is: that's why the ending a) hits so hard and b) is so fucking painful, because of course Aziraphale agrees. He has no conception of being able to defy Heaven on his own; he has always, always needed Crowley for that. In the flashbacks, when Aziraphale is faced with an order from Heaven that he desperately does not want to carry out (such as letting all Job's children get killed), he still relies completely on Crowley to "outsmart the rules" and find a better way. Crowley is A Crafty Demon; that's what he does, and so Aziraphale rationalizes it to himself that therefore that must be fine. Even in season 1, when he really didn't want the Apocalypse to happen but initially thought it was his duty as a good Heaven footsoldier, he relied on Crowley to talk him out of it and allow him to do what he really wants instead. That's their whole dynamic in a nutshell, as exemplified in that scene in episode 2, where Crowley tempts Aziraphale with the "pleasures of the flesh" while sprawled on his back in Ravish Me mode like the giant walking gay disaster that he is. (Sorry, buddy. That beard. Can't do it.) Everything that Aziraphale's existence is, that makes him who he is, that he loves and cherishes the most (in this case, food and wine) comes from Crowley. Everything else is just background noise.

Throughout the season, what we see is Aziraphale increasingly coming around to the fantasy of being with Crowley. He's coy and flirty; he talks about "our car" and expects Crowley will let him (which he does); he wants to have a Jane Austen ball and for them to dance together (oh my heart); he even thinks, at the crucial moment, that the best way for them to be together is to go back to heaven just like they were in the beginning, once more perfect angels, as if those entire six thousand years of struggle and grief and pining and separation and falling didn't happen. And Crowley -- poor, poor, brave, devoted, heartbroken Crowley -- has just heard for the first time in said six thousand years that actually telling the person you love how you feel is an option. Maggie and Nina tell them point-blank that their whole stupid plan failed because people aren't chess pieces who can be moved and automatically achieve the desired result. And of course this gobsmacks the dearest and dumbest Ineffable Husbands, because they can't conceive of anything else. People are chess pieces in the Great War of Heaven and Hell; Aziraphale and Crowley themselves are chess pieces who have been desperately trying to get out of being moved by external forces, but that doesn't change the fact that that's what they are. They don't have volition or agency aside from that which they can sneak for themselves in brief and stolen moments. That's it.

Until, well. It's not it. They discover that this whole would-be war is actually an elaborate ruse to cover up another angel-demon romance, that of Gabriel and Beelzebub. (I'll be honest, I'm 99% sure they did this storyline because they saw the fans crackshipping them, but I appreciate a fictional narrative that values and incorporates its fans' input, rather than trying to constantly "trick" or "outsmart" them or "do what they don't expect.") And Gabriel and Beelzebub get to be together, but only by leaving their world forever. They have to desert their homes, their structures, even their own identities, and never return. And Crowley and Aziraphale are so rooted in their "precious, perfect, fragile" life in their little corner of Soho, with their bookshop and their Bentley and their dining at the Ritz (which they didn't get to do in the end because METATRON /shakes fist), that that just doesn't work. Neither of them can conceive of doing that. So Aziraphale thinks "go back to heaven and try to make the terrible system do some good and take what we can in terms of being together" and Crowley just... pours out his heart. He's ready to fucking propose. He barely stops himself from saying something to the effect of "I want to spend eternity with you." He begs, he pleads with Aziraphale to go away not in the literal sense, but the emotional/metaphysical: to finally break this toxic dependence on Heaven and tell them once and for all where to stick it. And because he is desperate to make Aziraphale understand, he finally throws all caution to the winds and recklessly, desperately, adoringly kisses him, the one thing he's wanted to do for ages and...

Gets. Shot. Down.

Ugghhhhh. I'm suffering all over again. Aziraphale wants him, hungers for it, for them, and yet he's been so abused and so conditioned by Heaven (he's still blithely repeating to Crowley's face that "Hell are the bad guys!") that he just cannot accept that kind of desperate, blind, limitless, lawless affection. He even forgives Crowley for this "transgression," just to really twist the knife, and Crowley just can't take it, can't face up to how terribly this has all gone up in flames, after he went to heaven trying to find the answer for Gabriel's situation. Gabriel, who he fucking hates. Gabriel, who tried to kill the angelic being he loves (and for which Crowley has transparently never forgiven him). And yet at one pouty puppy-eyed look from Aziraphale and a warning that whoever is harboring Gabriel might be in danger, Crowley leaps headlong into the Bentley again and rushes to the rescue while "Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy" is blaring. He stoutly protects Gabriel; he does a miracle to disguise him; he lets him have hot chocolate and stay in the bookshop; he guards him from the literal demonic horde outside. All because of Aziraphale. That's it. And then, it still doesn't work. Not only that, Gabriel's absence and decision to forego Armageddon gives Heaven the one tool they finally need to take Aziraphale away from him.

I repeat: Ugghhhhhhhh.

(In a good way. Ngl, I love this angst. This is the kind of angst my brain Thrives on, the Thematic Parallel Romantic Character Arc kind. Nom nom nom. But also: AGONY.)

I also need to talk about Aziraphale driving the Bentley, aside from the obvious metaphor of him being in Crowley's home while Crowley is in his. Last season, we had the "you go too fast for me, Crowley" scene with them sitting in said Bentley, which was Aziraphale saying he's not ready for a relationship. In this season, as noted above, we see Aziraphale increasingly embracing the potential fantasy of being with Crowley. But here's the catch: when he's in the Bentley this time, driving it, setting the pace, acclimating to the idea, he's driving his own idea of what the Bentley/his relationship with Crowley is. It's not the real thing. He plays classical music; he supplies himself sweets; he turns it yellow; he drives too slow. Crowley calls him in another old-married-couple snitfit to complain that Aziraphale's messed it up, but what Aziraphale has actually messed up (or will, by the end of the season) is far more consequential than just a car. He's changed the entire shape of their relationship to the one he thinks can make it work, and it just doesn't. It has to be them -- "we could have been... Us" -- or it's not even close to the truth. It's not worth their time.

I repeat: Ouch.

Speaking of the writers validating fan theories, I know we all picked up and screamed about on Crowley's idea of Peak Romance Guaranteed To Fall In Love being sheltering from rain and gazing into each other's eyes, which confirms that that poor bastard was indeed ass-over-teakettle gone as soon as he met Aziraphale (again) in Eden. I also need to talk about the 1941 redux, because wow. This time, the danger comes from Hell, which we see being its usual self: gleefully, pointlessly cruel, pettily backbiting, dirty, sniping, tedious, endless, determined to mindlessly destroy because They're The Bad Guys and they like it. So they blackmail, spy on, miracle-block, illicitly photograph, and try to prove that Aziraphale and Crowley are secretly a couple, right after Aziraphale himself has just had the Light From Heaven realization that he's in love (which we all also picked up on in s1). They're forcibly outing them (to speak of more Religious Queer Trauma) in order to break them up/get them into trouble with their authorities/families. Aziraphale and Crowley manage to escape it mostly by dumb luck, but Crowley having an altogether freakout, hands shaking, barely able to actually point the gun at Aziraphale even in the knowledge that it's supposed to be fake, is just... wow. He can't even fathom the idea of ever trying to destroy him in earnest, especially when he knows on some level that Aziraphale also finally just realized his own feelings. So I just need to --

/screams

Anyway, Aziraphale's entire arc this season is doing what he thinks is the right thing and then inadvertently causing harm and damage as a result. In the Edinburgh flashbacks (live slug reaction of me: SEAN BIGGERSTAFF???!!) he tries to stop Elspeth from stealing bodies and gets Morag killed and Crowley drinking the laudanum to save him (though that part with David Tennant just riffing left and right, using his natural Scottish accent, and being Tiny Crowley/Huge Crowley was hilarious). He invites his neighbors to a Pride and Prejudice ball and makes them all the target for demonic attack. And of course the Job episode: Aziraphale, horrified at Heaven's callous cruelty, desperate not to get Job's children killed, willing to go along with Crowley's tricks to save them somehow, tempted by Crowley to do the fucknasty with their angel bits eat some food and decide that he likes it. As mentioned, the whole thing about God being silent this season is a major thematic choice. The only time we see/hear God is Her communing with Job from afar. Aziraphale enviously imagines the answers he must be getting (he's not, he's baffled and perplexed), while Crowley longs beyond words to even have the opportunity to ask the question: why? Why do this? Why is this your plan?

And of course, this absence culminates in the Metatron, the Voice of God, the person arrogantly claiming that they're speaking for God and know exactly what Heaven wants, being able to seize Aziraphale by the short hairs and absolutely fuck him over. Gabriel is gone/decommissioned/eloping with Beelzebub, so Heaven needs a Supreme Leader (God apparently is no longer a factor in the equation). And what this Supreme Leader needs to do is finally unleash the Apocalypse that Gabriel decided to pass on (the Second Coming). Aziraphale needs to be punished, taken away from Crowley's influence/love, and put back under Heaven's explicit control, so Metatron spots a great opportunity to do all three at once. It's not an accident that the exact tool he uses to get Aziraphale to agree is "now you can actually be with Crowley!" Aziraphale and Crowley have been trying so hard to hide out from their respective Head Offices, but now all at once, there's this seemingly miraculous opportunity for them not to have to do that anymore! They can be together! They can be sanctioned by Heaven! They can give up all this hiding and sneaking around and lying! Isn't that better?

... As long as, of course, they give up absolutely everything that makes them who they are. No big deal. Minor catch. Probably nothing.

Metatron doesn't let Aziraphale have time to escape, or think it over, or reflect, or anything. He pressures Aziraphale to come with him immediately, or be once more subject to Heaven's implicit wrath/destruction/judgment. Believe me, Aziraphale already KNOWS he's made a huge mistake, as soon as he hears what Metatron really wants: bringing him back to unleash the Apocalypse that Aziraphale and Crowley have given up literally everything to prevent. He doesn't need time to reflect. By the time my man is in that elevator, he's well aware of what a catastrophic misjudgment he's made, and yet --

Aziraphale needs this. He has, as noted, literally always relied on Crowley outsmarting Heaven's cruel orders in order to prevent himself from having to do them. He's relied on Crowley rescuing him ("rescuing me makes him so happy," WELL BUB, IT'S BECAUSE YOU ALWAYS NEED IT). He admits to Crowley's face that "I need you!" He hates Heaven's sadistic meanness, but he has absolutely no framework, in and of himself, to defy it. When the rubber hits the road, he will crumple and try to go along with it, and now he's been put in a position where he's going to have to stand up, defy Heaven, and make the break once and for all BY HIMSELF. He doesn't have Crowley around to do it for him, he has no support, he is going to arrive in Heaven and be shuttled straight off to the Apocalypse 2.0 War Room. The only way he gets out of this is if he actively stands up, if he chooses himself and Crowley and their life, and he has to.

The thing is:

Aziraphale has lived his entire eternal existence Looking Up. Up is the direction of Goodness and Heaven. Up is where Angels go. Up is where Aziraphale comes from and where Demons and Hell are not. But now he's going Up, in a position to take over the whole shebang, and it's the last thing he wants.

So he's going to have to come back Down.

He's going to have to Fall. He's going to have to get back Below at all costs. He's going to have to finally, once and for all, understand what led Crowley to make the choice to leave Heaven and never come back. It's only then that they can possibly be together on any kind of conscious, equal, deliberate footing, claim their own agency, reject Heaven AND Hell, and try to really earn that South Downs cottage and that happy-ever-after, and it's gonna hurt so good.

Now if you will excuse me, /screams

#good omens #good omens meta #good omens s2 #good omens spoilers #ineffable husbands #look this probably could have been twice as long #but i had to stop somewhere #I JUST HAVE A LOT OF FEELINGS

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furiousgoldfish · 1 year ago

Text

Did my parents use cult techniques of abuse on me?

Or, did I grow up in a cult-like environment?

Control of appearance

my parents would berate me for my choice of clothing and accessories

my parents would insult me, call me names or slurs or make inappropriate comments if I dressed in a way they disapproved of

my parents would refuse to take me places until I dressed the way they required

my parents would shame me for my appearance and say they're ashamed to be seen in public with me

my parents would require me to look similar to what they look, even if it wasn't my style

my parents would take away pieces of my clothing and destroy it if they didn't like it

my parents would blackmail me or force me to wear a certain piece of clothing against my will

my parents would physically force me into clothing they decided I should wear

my parents berated, insulted and shamed me for the length, color and the style of my hair, if it wasn't what they thought I should look like

only certain styles of clothing, hair, and accessories were acceptable for me to wear

Control of information, isolation and 'them versus us'

my parents would ask me 'where did you learn that?' whenever I would say something they didn't like

my parents would blame the school/my friends and say 'is this what they taught you?' if I didn't comply with their requests

my parents would disprove of reliable sources of information; they would insist they're right even when their information was directly against science, common sense, school or expert opinion

I was restricted or heavily discouraged from absorbing certain sorts of media (tv was forbidden, or certain books were forbidden, or the internet)

my parents were happy to expose me to information on how others live only if they were showing me worse abuse than what was going on at home. my only references were people who hurt their children much worse

my parents didn't like me spending time with my friends and would criticize those friends harshly in front of me

my parents considered anyone who isn't like them stupid, undesirable, less worthy and irrelevant, they wouldn't take in new information about them and instead considered themselves superior

my parents insisted that there isn't a place for me in the 'outside world' and that I'm only ever going to be a burden and a liability to everyone

my parents convinced me that people in the 'real world' were cruel and dangerous, and that I was likely to get killed, kidnapped, robbed, sexually assaulted or taken hostage by them

my parents believed anyone who fell victim to homelessness, addictions, abuse, poverty, illness or misfortune was stupid, worthless, lived their life wrong, and it was all their own fault that this happened to them

Control of location, financial abuse and life decisions

my parents would take any money I receive as a gift away from me

my parents would take any money I earn away from me

my parents would find a way to 'borrow' or 'keep safe' the money that was supposed to be mine, and I would never see it again

my parents would employ me to do work that would otherwise be paid work, but I would never hear about the money, they would just say it would go to 'the cost of keeping me'

my parents required me to work to 'deserve to live', I would have to do extensive physical work in order to deserve food, shelter, and basic resources I needed for school

my parents didn't give me proper working conditions, when working I wasn't allowed to complain of being tired, hungry, needing the toilet or a break, I had to work silently

my parents wanted me to work for them even after coming of age

my parents wanted me to only work somewhere close to the family (in the same town/city/district, or in a relative's home) and would sabotage me getting jobs that required me to move away

my parents threw tantrums or had extreme anxious reactions if I were to try to move somewhere away from them (insisting I'd be hurt, kidnapped, killed, robbed, sold into slavery, etc)

my parents wouldn't allow me to make life decisions on my own even when I was of age, and insisted that they know what is right for me instead

my parents would withdraw their support from me, or do intense shaming, guilt-tripping, acting hurt and betrayed and blaming me for their own bad psychological state, if I tried to make my own life decisions the way I wanted (even when I'm an adult)

if I needed to move for school/work, my parents insisted on being in as close contact as possible, they wanted me to call them daily or would call daily

I felt that my parents did not trust me to know how to take care of myself and they felt it was necessary to control all of my decisions for me, or I would go directly into my own doom

Strict patriarchal standards

my family believed that the father is supposed to be the 'leader' of the family and that other members of the family, specifically children, were to listen to his orders obediently or be punished

my family allowed the father to use extremely cruel punishments if he wasn't obeyed instantly

there was a double standard for what the family was free to do, and what the father was free to do; he could act as he pleased, but for the rest, there were strict rules of behaviour and limited freedom

while the father in the family was allowed to criticize, humiliate, guilt-trip and demand labour and resources from anyone in the family, he himself was above criticism and was not to be questioned

there was a double standard for girls and boys in my family; girls needed to be submissive, pleasing to look at, work endlessly for others and act like helpers and resources for other members of the family. boys were valued for toughness, durability, aggressiveness.

controlling, bullying and assaulting girls would be forgiven and dismissed, but girls would not be allowed to fight back.

boys were encouraged to fight and were not supposed to complain about injuries or fear physical violence at all

girls were valued for chastity, virginity and appeal to men, while boys were valued for physical strength, leadership, agression and decision making

extensive shame was put on any sexual desire, curiosity or even requests for information about sex

it was assumed that the goals for the young girls in the family was to become married and were trained for 'serving their future husband', to the point where they would be criticized and humiliated for anything 'their future husband wouldn't like'

my family did not give us any resources or information that would teach us about sex or protect us against sexual abuse

there was sexual abuse of children in my family (by adults, or by other children) and it was ignored, dismissed, either never brought to light or the perpetrators were protected if it ever was brought to light, and the entire thing covered up

Breaking (tw torture, tw murder attempts)

I was denied food or shelter if I would disobey my parents as a child

I was locked up somewhere if I would disobey my parents

I was hit, chased, threatened with violence, had things thrown at me and had people scream at me in rage if I disobeyed them as a child

I was beaten, to the point where I had marks on my body, as a punishment for disobedience

I was starved as a punishment for disobedience (my food intake was limited, a meal was withdrawn every day or multiple meals were, or my meals were less than what everyone else was allowed to have)

I was sleep-deprived as a punishment (allowed less than 8 hours of sleep at night)

I was overworked as a punishment (forced to do long or unusual cleanings or other menial labour)

I was exposed to life-threatening situations as a punishment (someone would try to drown/choke/injure me, or put me in a situation where I would likely get injured)

Punishments would not be over until I would break down unable to bear it any more and I would apologize and beg for it to stop, sometimes it still wouldn't stop

After punishments, nobody would speak to me, look at me, pay attention to me, or give me any comfort or acknowledgment, everyone acted as if I was poisonous or toxic (this is shunning)

After punishments, I would be isolated, without any human contact, for prolonged periods of time, I wouldn't be allowed back into the family until they decided it was time

I was exposed to extensive shaming and contempt for disobeying (I was told I was the worst, most selfish creature to live, that I was evil, possessed, demonic, I was called slurs, animal names, monstrous names, compared to the devil or worst humans to exist, blamed for everyone's suffering, accused of causing suffering on purpose and enjoying it)

intimate, sexual or extremely uncomfortable punishments were done to me for disobeying or talking back

I believed that the members of the family were all-powerful, and that there was no way of escaping their punishments, or for them not to find out if I've done anything wrong. I became terrified of making any mistakes and couldn't see a world where they wouldn't find out

I was scared that the family members could read my thoughts and was forbidden to think anything ill of them

Religious and Spiritual Abuse (control of thoughts)

I was supposed to accept the same religion my parents believed in, and anything else was unacceptable

I was forced to participate in church going, religious activities and rituals even if I strongly did not want to be involved

I was taught extensive religious or spiritual beliefs from the start of life, and would be judged on those standards/had to prove my faith in various ways

I was forced to 'confess' my thoughts and beliefs to a member of the family or the church, who then judged me and 'corrected' my way of thinking, telling me how I should (must) think

my place in society was dictated by my religion, if religion said my purpose is to have a family, or have children, then the only way for me to exist would be to follow that purpose

I was taught that laziness is a sin and I was to work every moment I possibly could, or I would be shamed as a sinner

I was told I was impure, sinful, that certain parts of human nature like curiosity, desire for knowledge, critical thinking and indulgence in my interests and desires was 'against god', and I had to give it all up in order to be a good person

I was taught to fear god's wrath and that punishment would come for anything that could possibly be perceived as wrong

I was taught that suffering is necessary and good for us, that the more we suffer in this world, more will we be rewarded in the next one, and that being put through extensive and prolonged pain would actually save me and give me good graces with god

alternatively, I was told that any suffering was my fault and only here because 'I didn't believe enough' or 'my faith isn't pure enough' and if I only did everything right, then I would have no suffering, no illnesses, no problems and no bad moods ever

I was told there was something demonic and evil inside of me, and had to bear punishments to 'exorcise the possession'

I was told I was so evil, selfish and demonic that I could not be loved, or could only be loved under certain conditions, and if I'm continually punished

I was introduced to a 'new age religion' or a specific spiritual belief by my family and was then groomed to participate in it long term, not realizing that it was done for a purpose to benefit a certain cause that was ultimately exploitative and deceptive

I was shamed and told I was doing harm to the world for arbitrary things, like having my own stuff, eating certain foods, participating in certain harmless activities or buying certain things

limits and restrictions would be placed on completely harmless things for which I would then be persecuted

Escape prevention

I was told that I was not capable of living in the normal world and that I would die if I ever escape

I was told I would commit suicide if I escape

I was told that the world outside is life-threatening, that people are dangerous, prone to attack, murder, rob, assault or kidnap me

I was told that I was absolutely unwanted, burden and a waste of space if I'm outside of the family

I was told there was no way for me to become a part of any other group or have a place in any social circle outside of the family

I was terrified that there would be revenge if I ever escaped, and that someone would come and attempt to take my life

(in case of escape) extensive measures were taken to try and get me to come back, I was searched for, contacted and harassed by multiple people trying to find me and bring me back home

(in case of escape) my relatives, friends, acquaintances and peers were harassed and manipulated to believe they need to bring me back and that I'm making a mistake

I was extensively shamed, told I was being cruel, in the wrong, that I needed to forgive and forget any wrongdoing, that I was doing damage and hurting people, if I ever tried to escape

I could feel that I would be shunned, everything I had would be taken from me and I would be left without any family, any resources or any safety net if I ever escape

(in case of escaping) I became shunned and unwelcome in my own family

(in case of escaping) the worst rumors and allegations were spread against me, my family told everyone made-up stories or exaggerated lies of how awful, cruel, selfish, crazy, distorted, sick and psychotic I am

(in case of escape) after escaping, I was hit with severe terror and trauma, and was barely able, or completely unable to function for a period of time, I didn't believe I would survive, and I didn't know how to function in the world

(in case of escape) after escaping, I realized I had nothing to my name, no skills for survival outside of the family, and I needed to re-learn everything, from socialization with people to financial skills and self care, I wasn't taught anything that would help me live in the outside world

*if someone other than your parents did this to you, you can substitute 'parents' by 'abuser'. Sometimes cults will cut family bonds and convince you that the cult community is your only family

If you've scored high on this list, it doesn't necessarily mean you were brought up in a cult, because cults often use tactics of domestic abuse, and the reverse is also true, domestic abusers often use cult tactics of abuse. It also doesn't mean that you weren't brought in a cult, if most of this is applicable you could potentially benefit from reading resources about cults and how they function, and how to recover from them and clear your mind of their control.

Most families raise their children in their own religion, and by patriarchal standards, it doesn't mean that it isn't religious and sexist abuse, because children are often not free to choose their beliefs or live freely of those standards. It's a societal type of 'accepted abuse'. However, you had anything from 'Breaking' category true for you, you were severely abused and someone attempted to take your free will completely from you, and take control of you. Everything in there counts as torture, is illegal, and is not in any way acceptable to do to a child, or adult, and none of it could ever be done for your own good. Also, control of your appearance, finances, information and escape prevention are strong signs of exploitation and being held hostage and used against your will. Control of appearance is mostly done so that nobody in the outer world could recognize that you're not there by your free will and as a part of that family/community, it's to make your abuse invisible and undetectable. Control of information is there to make it invisible to you, so that you can't figure out whats happening to you isn't normal.

If you've scored high on this list, it means you've been through extensive and terrifying levels of abuse, and that strong measures were taken to prevent you from escaping. This type of abuse has long-lasting effects and is not something one can easily recover from. Nobody deserved anything on this list to be done to them, every point is abuse.

#cult abuse #cults #abusive parents #child abuse #religious abuse #spiritual abuse #breaking #brainwashing #grooming #cult like abuse #cult level of abuse #escape sabotage

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loquaciousquark · 20 days ago

Note

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

This week has been hell and now that I'm finally coming to the end of it, I'm going to sit down & enjoy this! Sorry in advance for the length.

My favorite fics vacillate wildly depending on my mood, interest, and the time of year, but right now, I think this is what I've got. In no particular order:

Invicta, Invictus (2016)

Magister AU. Hawke ends up owning Fenris while in Minrathous & they fall in love anyway. This fic was difficult to write for a lot of reasons (a main one just being my fear of not doing justice to the premise and underselling the slavery aspect), and it took nearly a year to finish between the writing itself, the rewriting and additional scenes required from @jadesabre301's beta, and final edits. By the time I started posting I felt confident that I'd written something solid, but despite the otherwise positive response, I did end up receiving a series of extremely angry, lengthy critical comments from someone who basically accused me of perpetuating the glorification of rape, the enslavement of people of color, and the entrenchment of cruelty against victims of sexual assault. (I vividly remember a comparison between Thomas Jefferson & Sally Hemings.)

This came out of the blue from someone I knew & had otherwise quite respected; it was a blow that shook my confidence to the core, despite several wonderful people reaching out to me at the time, and while I finished posting the fic, I completely stopped writing otherwise. I ended up not writing anything of significance for three full years afterwards. It wasn't until I got extremely drunk on a work trip (after a personal dinner, no colleagues around) and went back to my hotel to jot down the first lines of the Hawke-is-rescued-from-the-Fade fic that I even entertained the idea of picking the hobby back up.

Now, looking back after almost ten years, I've long come to terms with her criticism. I've decided that I disagree with her, that I'm actually still okay with what I wrote, and that I'm proud of the work I did in that fic. I think the premise is good and the examination of the social and political structures is sound, and I think the fic does what it needs to where the relationship strains against the societal boundaries around it. Not to mention I think it has some of my best Fenris characterization I ever managed, and some of my better Hawke jokes. I think the letter exchange at the end is effectively poignant even after all this time (though I do wish I'd written Danarius's actual death a little differently), and I still find the ending as they approach Kirkwall very satisfying. I'll also never turn down a chance to let Varania have a moment or two.

I'm proud of this one, and I'm glad I wrote it.

A Midwinter's Carol; in Prose; Being a Ghost Story of Baldur's Gate (2023)

I think this fic has some of my best technical mimicry I've ever managed. I've always enjoyed a good stylistic parroting, but this was the first time I'd attempted Dickens, and I genuinely think I did a good job. 😂 I've always been fascinated by the mechanics of language, and I had a great time spoofing his oddly frank addresses to the reader and his serpentine asides.

It's quite short—less than 10k—but I think it does exactly what it's supposed to, and I'm genuinely proud of some of the AU elements. @eponymous-rose gave me Christmases Past and Present, so I can't lay claim to those (aside from execution), but the way Future's demand resolves & the Thayan book standing in for the door knocker were all mine, and I still think they're genius, ahaha. (I also fully acknowledge that I owe Jade big time for helping me clarify the final deal Astarion strikes.)

I think the wordplay throughout of what it means to be redeemed is well written, and I'm genuinely pleased with the turn of the mood during the Future sequence. I can tell my love of flippant characters having stark face-to-face encounters with gods is probably a little strong at the end, but Megan Whalen Turner was a formative influence, and I still love it the way it came out here. This is a fic that did exactly what I wanted it to from start to finish, and I love rereading it.

I also think Astarion refusing to participate in the narrative and Tav's modern voice against the Dickensian backdrop are utterly hilarious.

Iron Bound (2023)

This is the most ambitious project I've ever tackled, even considering Invicta above. I knew this would be a long fic, and while I'd daydreamed about scenes from it for nearly a decade, I genuinely didn't know if I had the technical ability to execute it the way I wanted. Once I finally, finally, finally sat down to write it, the words came out like butter, and I wrote almost 70k words in two weeks.

This fic was interesting because it included a love triangle, which is not something I have ever had the slightest interest in reading or writing, but I felt the relationships were strong enough between all three pillars that I wanted to give it a shot. I love Hawke & Fenris, obviously, but the Fenris + Sebastian brotherhood is likewise vitally important to me, and I've always treasured the Sebastian + Hawke friendship as well. Getting to examine all three of them closely here was wonderful from start to finish, and I loved looking at where the lines strained and grew lax as they got to know each other.

Likewise, I've also adored characters who have to face the conflict between love and duty, and this premise let me marinate in every part of the idea. Knowing that I'd be able to give them all happy endings—knowing that they'd be rewarded for doing the right thing—was very pat and yet very satisfying, and I enjoyed every minute of the tension before the resolution.

This fic was in many ways an homage to Patricia McKillip, one of my favorite authors, and also a frank wish-fulfillment exercise for me. This is the one where everyone lives. This is the one where no one suffers for too long. Malcolm, Carver, Bethany, Leandra—even Varania and Sebastian and Anders and the dog. Everyone lives. Everyone is happy and loved and fed and secure and will remain so for the rest of their lives, and I remain thoroughly unapologetic for it.

I do think (despite Jade's attempts to correct it) that there's some marked narrative clumsiness in the back third, and with a little distance I can see ways I could have revised the Danarius confrontation and the series of epilogues to hang together more cleanly. There are also some heavy-handed sequences regarding the broader world politics which I think stand out against what is otherwise fairly mature writing, and I wish I'd threaded those through a bit more deftly.

That said, I'm still immensely proud of this project, and once I finish this post I'm probably going to reread it start to finish. 😂

This Lethal Light Falls Softly (2023)

I was very passionate about the central conceit of this fic, and I think it shows. It's cleanly written with no wasted time—even rereading it now for this post, there's only one exchange I'd still tweak—and I'm very happy with the way I wrote the Tav & Astarion relationship at this stage. They're a wholly different beast to Fenris & Hawke, who are friends for seven years before they finally embark on a real relationship; Tav & Astarion know each other maybe a few weeks before they sleep together for the first time, and even with the most generous possible interpretation I don't think the game can take more than a handful of months. This meant I was writing lovers with new-to-me insecurities, and with Astarion's own basketful of bugaboos on top of that, everything felt fresh and exciting and a little terrifying. I think you can feel that energy in the prose, and I really like it.

Aside from that, I'm very happy with the solution I came up with to Astarion's vampirism. It was hardly inventive, but I did feel it was both practical and lore-friendly, and I felt like its cost (Tav's absence for Astarion, the exhaustion and battle and injuries for Tav) balanced out the number of boons it provided. It also made negating the vampiric effects an active, ongoing choice for Astarion, which I deeply prefer over more permanent solutions like True Resurrection or a god restoring him to mortality.

I also just honestly think it's just fun to read. I like Astarion being snippy and short-tempered while still being overjoyed to see Tav alive. I like Tav confronting the idea that Astarion loves her as much as she loves him and that her silent absence was an active harm to him. I think I did a pretty good job setting the scenery and conveying the appropriate atmosphere where it was important, and I think there are some turns of phrase throughout that came out quite lovely.

I also think ending on the button of him seeing himself in the mirror is hilarious. (Not pictured: Tav having to ask him to put down the hand mirror for literal weeks.)

ah! this grief like cold bells ringing (2020)

This is probably the most difficult fic I've written in terms of headspace. COVID's forced isolation was particularly awful for me, and I didn't know how to handle it except to try to write it out of me. This, like Iron Bound, contained something I never thought I'd write (rape/rape aftermath), but the gravity of the situation and the world at the time seemed to demand something likewise grave, and I ended up feeling like it was an appropriate choice. Hawke has been a tool of many kinds for me over the years, and I remain both glad and weirdly grateful for her resilience.

This was also the first fic where I felt like I didn't shy away from or veil Tevinter's atrocities (a necessary artifact of the premise). While it was hard to write, it wasn't hard to write, and looking back I'm glad I made the choices I did; I think to hamstring the severity of the moment would have broken the story's teeth and dampened the recovery which came after. The instinct to quit flinching away was the right one, and I think the fic is better for it.

I also think this is some of the most effective writing of catharsis I've ever managed. When I'm having a really difficult time and need to read a moment of recovery, the second chapter of this fic is always my first stop. I've actually only reread the first chapter a few times since I posted (usually the pain's not the part I need), but I've reread the second chapter a hundred times or more.

I also do think that the style of the prose—a little flatter and more direct than I usually write—came out well, especially given the subject matter. While I'd prefer never to go back to that emotional place, I'm glad this came out of it.

Honorable Mention:

Lacrimosa (2011). Still one of the oneshots I'm proudest of. I think it's technically proficient and emotionally very effective, and I love the structure of it.

A Detailed Accounting of the Rigorous and Remarkable Struggles Faced by One Fereldan Refugee in the Singularly Capricious City of Kirkwall, as Experienced by the Illustrious Author (2022). While the writing is not the best I've ever managed (it began life as a warm-up exercise, after all), it took ten years to finish, and I'm deeply proud of both finishing it and of the execution of several sections.

Find Me a Wayward Sun (2023). I like the emotional complexity of this fic very much. This was the first place where I felt like I really started to understand the dynamic between Tav & Astarion, especially in the complicated back half of Act Two, and I've gone back to it several times when I need to recapture that feeling of confused selfishness and nascent, uncertain affection.

#quark replies #wufflesvetinari #baldur's gate 3 #dragon age #fenris #hawke #fenris/hawke #tav #astarion #tavstarion #long post

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hwangism143 · 9 months ago

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midnights and kitchen lights

synopsis: you wake up to the smell of brownies and a guilty boyfriend

pairing: non-idol!felix x non-idol!gn reader (ft. the rest of skz and their so)

genre: fluff, established relationship, angst (if you squint reallyyy hard)

warnings: mentions of food and eating. guilty lix and having a different gf/bf as a joke. lowercase intended

word count: 861 words

a/n: a little layout change underway, lol. pls drop ur comments and criticism! i should be studying for my exams... but i'm a menace ;)

"we're dancing 'round the kitchen in the refrigerator light"

the aroma of baked goods wafting about in your apartment when your boyfriend was over was not an unfamiliar sensation. what was odd, however, was the smell of brownies hitting your nose at midnight and a loud enough 'fucking hell' to wake you up from your slumber.

your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness you were in. the past week for you was a blur of love and everything else sweet in this world. you finally had your boyfriend all to yourself after he got a deserved break from his extremely demanding job. being the affectionate little ball of love that he was, felix chose to spend his vacation with you.

although he promised to spend the entire month with you, he was simmering with guilt all day. why? because his close (and extremely stupid) friends had planned a boys day out, booking a laser tag arena for the 5th of may. or so they thought. in reality, jisung, who was in charge of bookings, happened to book the arena for the 5th of april.

the boys all decided that it would be better to just go, since getting a refund or rescheduling was not an option. they all also happened to be in town at the same time, almost as if it was fate, as hyunjin had joked when the boys were over at your apartment a few hours earlier.

felix was extremely excited to spend the day with his friends, but he couldn't help feeling bad about the fact that he would be away from you. he even offered to pay for a last minute ticket, which you politely declined. no matter how many times you had told him that it was fine, he wouldn't listen.

"it's ji's fault, lixie. stop blaming yourself. you know how he can be, a little, erm-"

"absent minded?" sighed felix.

his hands were wrapped around you as your head lay on your shoulder. you were watching seungmin's girlfriend making fun of changbin's cooking skills and the rest of the group bursting into laughter. all except for felix. you looked up at him, taking in the freckles dusting his cheeks and the concentrated look in his eyes.

suddenly, he perked up. "i know," he murmured softly under his breath. judging by the steely expression on his face and the pursed lips, you decided not to ask, shaking your head in amusement instead.

you slowly got up and looked to the depression made in your bed right next to you. you swung your legs over to the side of the bed, soft footsteps making their way to the bedroom door. you were clad in nothing except for your pajama shorts and one of felix's oversized shirts.

you open the door, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed around you chest. you take in the sight before you: felix in shorts and a gray tee, baking brownies while bathed in the warm glow of your tiny kitchen. he's hunched over the tray which he must have just taken out of the oven, carefully cutting the brownies into precise strips.

"hi honey," you ask, rubbing your sleepy eyes. you walk over to him as a turns around in surprise, holding up the knife and looking at you with flushed cheeks and wide eyes.

you let out a laugh, "i didn't know you had a late night bokkie brownie craving."

he doesn't say anything and just stares at you, a sheepish smile forming on his face. he set down the knife and leans against the counter. he opens his arms wide as you make your way into his arms. his arms wrap around your shoulders and your around his waist as he rests his chin on your head.

"you're so pretty, i think i just malfunctioned," he mumbles into your hair.

you just hum in response, the sleepiness still not out of your system.

"it was supposed to be a surprise for you for tomorrow," he says softly.

"really? thank you so much lix. you shouldn't have," you whisper in response.

"no, i should have cupcake," he says sleepily, "also, if you're inviting the girls over tomorrow, don't share. these are for you and you only."

you look up at him, warm brown eyes full of love meeting yours. you give him a pout, "but the girls love your brownies so much. and if hyunjin ever finds out that i didn't send him any brownies home with aera, he'll never talk to us again. i can't risk my boyfriend breaking up with his boyfriend."

felix lets out an exasperated sigh, a smile playing on his lips, "for the hundredth time, hyunjin is not my boyfriend. and i don't care. bokkie brownies are reserved just for you, cupcake."

you roll your eyes at him with a grin, "but aera is forever going to be my girlfriend. don't worry babe, i'll hide the brownies somewhere safe. although, you calling me cupcake is very odd when you baked brownies."

felix lets out a devastating laugh, "i love you, brownie."

"i love you too, sunshine," you say as the two of you sway in the kitchen in your private bliss.

#stray kids #skz #felix #felix x reader #felix imagines #felix x you #felix x y/n #felix fluff #felix fic #stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #-via's fics <3

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a-sky-full-of-ideas · 3 months ago

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My favourite jobs of MDZS characters in a modern AUs (that aren’t business men cause that’s too obvious) and why, in no specific order!

WWX

Graphic designer (XZ former job, freelancer)

Gardener (he loved it !!)

Athlete (all rounder)

Photographer, specifically landscape/storms or otherwise on site stuff (free/unbound)

Artist (freelancer and creative)

Flutist

Band member specifically bassist and lyricist

DJ (free)

Influencer (is he not basically that lol)

YouTuber

Journalist (he loves to annoy ppl and find things out that they’d rather not want)

Talk show host/interviewer

Stunt man (he loves the adrenaline)

Crazy scientist/engineer (achieve the impossible)

Basically anything that is full of freedom, where he can travel wherever, whenever he wants! Something unbound to a place and by his own rules.

LWJ

Vet (he loves those bunnies so much)

Classical musician

Music teacher (loves music/good with kids)

Fashion designer (have you seen his wardrobe)

Librarian/archivist (he likes order)

Judge on a music competition show (we know he loves to judge ppl but also bring out the best in them)

Influencer, doesn’t talk in his videos at all, just shows the skill, wether it’s cooking, martial arts or music

Journalist (helps ppl and cares for the uncomfortable truth, no qualms running to the end of the world for it)

Critic (wether it’s restaurants or movies, judgemental but eloquent and fair)

Anything traditional and well regarded but that is supporting one or more of his interests. Then again he can be a judgmental and rebellious.

Architect ( “rebuild the Yunmeng clan to its former glory” or sth. Also fashion for buildings but very logical, precise and pragmatic and mostly a highly regarded job)

Fashion designer (have you seen his wardrobe?!)

Lawyer (dude loves to argue and scare ppl but also cares for the right ppl to be punished aka 2in1 for him)

Meteorologist (who best to read the incoming storm but the storm himself ?)

YouTuber, specifically cooking channel “cooking with juijui” aka for JL

Gym teacher (we see him train his new disciples)

Swimmer (best swimmer of YM or what ? Drowns out his thoughts and focuses on his body which at least he knows)

Librarian/archivist (he likes order and is stuck in the past)

Dog trainer

Vet/animal shelter owner (he loves those dogs so much and if he can’t have them he’ll at least treat them)

For him I love the two extremes of either sth that his parents will highly approve of cause it gets them money and status or sth that is completely just for himself and his interests, be it animals or his nephew

LXC

music teacher ( loves music and good w/kids)

Art teacher ( can draw and good w/kids)

Librarian (quite life he craves )

Professor

Flutist

Classical musician (traditional)

Yoga teacher

Voice actor for self help books and stuff

Judge (fair but steadfast)

Museum director (traditional and honoring the past)

Born a teacher I believe. Patience of a saint, not condescending at all and skilled at everything he does. Doesn’t need the fame of being a pro.

Some obvious ones

Wen Qing = doctor

JYL = Cook (Restaurant or celebrity with talk show)

NHS = fashion designer

NMJ = personal trainer

Feel free to add!

#jiang cheng #mdzs #the untamed #jiang wanyin #lan xichen #wwx #lwj #wei wuxain #lan wangji #wen qing #Jiang yanli #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #Moder au #mdzs modern au #xicheng #wangxian

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from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras · 9 months ago

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I'm still thinking about banner bearers as I continue working on my Obscure Blorbo Guthláf story, and I do find it impressive how much context about the banner bearer role Tolkien shoved into LOTR in barely half a dozen sentences' worth of small references.

For starters, there are (by my count) 3 acknowledged banner bearers in Lord of the Rings: Halbarad of the rangers of the North, Guthláf of Rohan (♥️), and an unnamed Haradrim standard bearer. I reject the distinction Tolkien made between so-called high, middle and low Men, but it is notable nonetheless that he created a banner bearer character from each of these 3 groups. That shows how universally important the function was, at least to communities of Men, just as it was extremely common in the real world for many hundreds of years of human history. All kinds of Middle Earth's Men have them, no matter how different the Men are from one another.

In addition, all 3 of the banner bearer characters die at the Pelennor Fields, which effectively illustrates how incredibly dangerous a job it was, both in Middle Earth and real life. Given how intentional Tolkien is about everything, I think it's fair to assume that he purposefully killed all of them in recognition of the realities of ancient warfare. (The only banner bearer I can think of in any Tolkien book that survives their war is Eönwë in the Silmarillion, but he's an immortal Maia so...TOTALLY different circumstances.)

And finally, Tolkien shows us how significant the loss of a banner bearer was to both sides in a battle. When Théoden kills the unnamed Haradrim standard bearer (just before the Witch King rolls up), that's the moment when the forces of Harad founder and start to flee because they've lost their rallying point and their source of morale. They can't function without their banner bearer. On the opposite side, Théoden cites his felling of the black serpent flag to Merry as one of the singular achievements that will allow him to sit proudly alongside his ancestors in the afterlife, so he clearly also understands taking out a banner bearer to be a massive battle achievement.

We don't witness Halbarad or Guthláf’s final moments, but their deaths are just as significant. Out of the untold numbers of dead at the Pelennor Fields, they are both in the small handful of names to be recorded in the story because they were important and their deaths meant something to the broader battle. And we see in the immediate aftermath of Guthláf’s death what a huge deal it is to the Rohirrim—they stop to address his death and retrieve his banner so that it can be borne by another before they even take the time to tend to their mortally wounded king. Those are the actions of people who understand how strategically important a banner bearer is above almost all other battlefield functions.

I'm not trying to say Guthláf is more important than Théoden* but I am saying that Tolkien really demonstrated, through a handful of very economical little actions and asides and unremarked-upon events, how critical people like Guthláf were, as well as how ridiculously brave and selfless. And more than anything else, I guess I’m saying that now, as I approach 27,000 words about Guthláf in my Google docs, he’s…on my mind a lot.

*At this point, I would absolutely say this for myself. In my heart, there's no contest and it's Guthláf forever. But I know that’s because he’s my special li’l guy and I don’t expect that of anyone else!

#lotr #lord of the rings #tolkien #banner bearers #halbarad #guthlaf #guthláf #poor unnamed haradrim #banner bearers of middle earth #niche interests #Character HCs #meta

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wobster109 · 1 year ago

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Everyone compares Dr. Ratio with Alhaitham but in my opinion their personalities are very different. They are both smart and pretty, I mean, pretty condescending, but that's where the similarities end.

Dr. Ratio makes it his life's purpose to teach people (even though he finds people foolish and bothersome, and gets annoyed at interacting with people). Alhaitham has no interest in educating anyone. He was actively opposed to Kaveh putting too much time and effort into their peers. He'd rather do his day job and then fuck off to home where he hides and reads and doesn't talk to anybody. He doesn't particularly care about bettering society or what have you. He thinks there will always be suffering and it's not his problem to solve, and other than really extreme situations (like building a new god to overthrow the old one), his society is basically fine.

In short, Alhaitham lacks ambition. I don't mean that as a criticism. . . more of an observation. Dr. Ratio seems a bit more. . . driven? Involved? Energetic?

In my opinion, Dan Heng is the real Alhaitham-equivalent. He's smart, nerdy, stoic, and likes books. Crucially, he's uninterested in trouble. He does not embark on grand life missions; rather, he's aimlessly living out his exile and then gets begrudgingly dragged into trouble when he'd rather not. Sure, he'll get involved to save his friends, just like Alhaitham will get involved if he really must, but it's not like he goes looking to be a hero.

#genshin impact #honkai star rail #alhaitham #dr. ratio #dan heng

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indigovigilance · 1 year ago

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Every single minisode is Aziraphale's memory, and why that's [not?] important

There is extensive meta-analysis, my own included, that Before the Beginning is a doctored memory resulting from erasure of Angel!Crowley, and that the trace of him that is left in Aziraphale's memory is the Starmaker, so that this is what we see at the opening of S2. With this foundation of "some scenes are altered memories," we can critically examine the minisodes and see that, in fact, they are ALL Aziraphale's memories that are potentially subject to doctoring.

Evidence (and exploration) below the cut:

A Companion to Owls

The largest part (S2E2 22:10 to 44:00) Book of Job flashback is book-ended by Aziraphale leaning over the physical Book of Job in his bookshop. We enter the memory when Aziraphale enters it, we leave it when he leaves it. Pretty straightforward.

The Ressurrectionists

Similarly, in S2E3, we begin the first flashback to 1827 with Aziraphale's "dear diary" entry. We flash out each time to Aziraphale: in the car to Edinburgh, getting out of the car at the Ressurrectionist Pub, and with Aziraphale staring up at the statue of Gabriel while standing in the graveyard in Edinburgh, respectively for each of the three flashbacks. This all strongly indicates that we've been in his memory.

Nazi Zombie Flesheaters

I didn't even notice until I was doing research for this that basically the entire episode takes place in 1941. From the end of the main title at 5:00 to 37:50, we never come out of the 1941 story. But what is interesting is what bookends this minisode.

Before the main title, Shax has tricked her way into Aziraphale's car and alludes to a time when a rumor started about our ineffable husbands:

Sometime in the last 80 or 90 years I remember hearing that you and Crowley were an item. I didn't believe it then. Not really. Poor old Furfur.

And when we flash back to modern day, we first go to Hell with Shax proposing a full frontal assault on the bookshop, and then we get:

Aziraphale has arrived back in SOHO, and has spent the 8 hour drive reminiscing about what Shax alluded to.

But this part gets even weirder. Because the final line of the episode is:

You're really hosting the meeting? Absolutely! And I can guarantee you: it will be a night to remember!

What this means in context of the 3 memory sequence

This line has been taken by a lot of analysts as a reference to A Night to Remember by Walter Lord, a collection of first person accounts of passengers of the Titanic. Most notably, the thematic ties of this work to the cinematographic design of Good Omens are captured by this quote:

A key to Lord's method is his technique of adopting an unconventional approach to the chronology of the event, "[taking] an imaginative approach to time and space in which hours and minutes prove extremely malleable, the ship itself seems almost infinitely complex, and the disaster assumes order and unity from far away."

Which is an amazing connection, and probably true, in that it was a deliberate reference by the writers. "Malleability of time and space" describes well how this show is put together for us the viewer. But it also illustrates how Aziraphale experiences his relationship with Crowley; skipping over centuries at a time, while dwelling on and protracting intimate moments spent together, create a cohesive whole when viewed from a distance. That whole is their relationship. [Which is about to go down like an unsinkable ship.]

But absent the literary reference, we could even take this line for its literal meaning. Aziraphale is talking about forming new memories, after we have spent the last three episodes living in his memories of times with Crowley that were key to shaping their relationship. This isn't a S1E3-style series of allusions to a furtive, flirtatious, and organically blossoming intimacy; these are rough events where the two are shoved into moral quandaries and forced to make some really difficult decisions that bring them closer together and define "their side." These are core memories, and incredibly precious to Aziraphale. And now, after a few short days in which he has spent a lot of time ruminating on these intense memories, he is embarking upon the task of making another important memory, that is, dancing with Crowley.

Why We Care

Because memories can be altered, all of the information we get from these episodes is subject to a reliable narrator problem. As of the Gabriel trial, we know that memories can be doctored even when the person in question isn't present. Crowley knows that his memories have been removed or altered, and has put painful effort into retrieving them. Aziraphale may not realize that he has suffered the same fate. These memories that he holds so dear might not even be true.

Memory, Identity, and the Relevance of Fidelity

We would probably expect to get some "corrections" to these memories in S3, to see exactly what kind of manipulations our heroes suffered and what that reveals about the motivations of the perpetrators. That's how a paranormal mystery story with a memory manipulation element would normally proceed.

But it will be even more significant if we don't; it would speak to a philosophy-of-self that you are not the product of your objective past, but of what you remember, and so we don't get to know what actually happened because it doesn't matter to informing us about who Aziraphale is.

Aziraphale's love for Crowley springs from what he remembers about their shared past; it doesn't necessarily matter that the memories aren't true, because the love is.

~~~

I realize that I kinda buried the lead, so if you reblog, please tag appropriately? I'm taking suggestions.

If you want to read more on this topic, this meta by @ineffable-suffering is a good place to go.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #aziraphale #crowley #memory #good omens memory #erasure theory #ivoc

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