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#Guys!!! can we get this to 6000 likes?!?!?!
joycrispy · 8 months
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I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.
Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."
Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.
Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.
Something like this:
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We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--
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--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.
But it turns out he was this:
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!!!
With his curly little--!!
And his neat white--!!
IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:
"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."
(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)
In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.
In sum...an innocent.
(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.
We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.
Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)
So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--
*checks notes*
--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.
...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.
All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?
He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.
That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...
...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.
Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."
And what reason does he give?
("I know you."
"You do not know me."
"I know the angel you were.")
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
("The angel you knew is not me."
But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)
tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.
'Innocence died screaming' and all that.
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roosterforme · 3 months
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Sneak Peek | Hangman x Reader
Summary: You spent so much time around the boys, they counted you as one of them. You were firmly stuck in the friend zone with Jake, so it was time to move on with a guy who could see past your flight suits. It's not immediately obvious to either of you that cranky Jake is actually jealous Jake.
Warnings: Fluff, language, mentioned smut, 18+
Length: 6000 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female Reader
Happy birthday @beyondthesefourwalls!
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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"It's my turn to buy a round," you said, standing up from the table and grabbing the empty beer bottles before turning toward Jimmy and Penny at the bar.
"Thanks, Rodeo," Jake murmured, and you turned back briefly and smiled softly at him. His gaze slid down your body the same way it would with any other woman, the only difference was that he had started to notice just how many other guys were regularly checking you out, too. And he wasn't sure how he felt about that fact.
When you squeezed yourself between two stools at the bar to order four more beers, Bradley asked, "Who are you staring at, Hangman? Rodeo?"
Mickey laughed as Jake quickly shook his head and turned his attention back to his friends. "I just wanted to make sure she can manage carrying everything."
"I'm sure she's fine," Bradley replied with a laugh of his own. "I got a little nervous for a second there."
"Why?" Jake asked, his eyes slowly drifting back to you, watching as you slipped your credit card into the back pocket of your jeans. 
"Because first of all," Bradley said as he smashed open a peanut on the table, "Rodeo is practically one of the guys. And second," he added, popping the peanut into his mouth and chewing, "it would be weird if you start looking at her like you do all the other random pieces of ass you take home with you. Even though she is cute."
"She's cute, for sure," Mickey piped in. "But once you've seen a girl throw up in the parking lot after a drunken karaoke night, the appeal kind of wears off."
Jake smiled as you headed back toward the table, because the drunken karaoke night was when he got to drive you home and carry you to your bed while you repeatedly tried to tell him you could walk by yourself. 
"Oh, you know who else is cute?" Bradley asked just as you set four new beers on the table. "That redhead with the huge tits at the dartboard."
"Damn," Mickey groaned, and now you were looking in that direction, too. But Jake kept his eyes on you. 
"Do we have to talk about this in front of Rodeo?" he asked, sipping his fresh beer and starting to wish Bradley and Mickey would wander off. "In front of a lady?"
Bradley snorted so hard, Jake was surprised his beer didn't shoot out of his nose. "A lady?" he asked as he looked at you and cuffed you on the arm. "Nice try, Hangman, but Rodeo doesn't count."
"Well, you don't count either," you told him, and Bradley tapped the neck of his bottle to yours. "And neither do the two of you." Your gaze met Mickey's before settling on Jake. "You know I don't mind when you guys talk about girls. I get it. You're all hot."
But your knee was rubbing against Jake's thigh at the tiny table, and for a brief flash, he thought maybe he wanted to count in your mind as a guy you could be into.
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It was a strange dynamic, working with mostly a bunch of men all the time. They saw you in a flight suit once, and they never looked at you like you were a female ever again. And that was fine. It made your job easier in a lot of ways. There were fewer distractions, and you knew for a fact that they liked you for your personality. They wouldn't invite you to hang out all the time if they didn't.
But on nights like this, it did sting a little bit to watch the three of them tripping over themselves to go talk to the redhead who was clearly eating up the attention. You were essentially wearing the same outfit she was: jeans and a black shirt. And you thought you looked cute. And what exactly was wrong with your boobs? You looked down at your body and kind of shrugged. You didn't get it. 
Natasha handed you a pool cue, and you sank a shot. You made up the excuse that you wanted to play so the guys wouldn't feel bad about abandoning you to go talk to girls, but Jake had been hesitant at first, so you shoved him along. That was a mistake, because you were reminded of how solid and muscular he was under his soft shirt. 
The first few times you glanced his way, he was already looking back at you. If he were any other guy, you would have just asked him out by now, but you were so firmly in the friend zone with all of them that it was embarrassing. The rejection would be laughable. 
So you put your head down and focused on the game and the chit chat around you. But after a while you got curious, and when you looked up again, Bradley and Mickey were walking back toward the table where your empty beer bottle sat. Jake had won. The redhead was running her fingernails through his hair. It was all over for the night. 
You weren't jealous. You weren't. You just didn't understand why it couldn't be you. As you sank the eight ball, you said, "I'm beat. I'm going to head home."
"Me too. Want a lift?" Mickey asked, and you nodded, not sparing a single glance back at Jake. 
Maybe you were the problem. Maybe you weren't sexy. You spent most of Sunday scrutinizing yourself in your bedroom mirror and going through all of your clothing. There really wasn't much of it since your closet was lined with uniforms and flight suits. And when you looked in the mirror, it wasn't like you could even tell what the problem was. You were just you, but it was starting to feel like you'd been playing around in this male-dominated world for so long, you were just blending in there. 
"Fuck it," you muttered reaching for your phone. There was a text from Bradley detailing the pricing for tickets to a Padres game, which you desperately wanted to go to. It sounded fun. Then you realized the beer drinking and peanut eating would simply be moved to a different venue in which the guys would be looking at all the other women around you. Suddenly it didn't sound so fun.
There were also a handful of texts from Jake. He must have kicked his guest out early if he was asking how you were doing this morning. You sent back a short message before finding the app on your screen that had been dormant since you got stationed in San Diego last summer. Tinder. It was right there. 
Nervously, you entered your login information, terrified that you'd just end up with a bunch of guys you saw on base as your best options. They would undoubtedly take one look at you and have the same reaction your male friends did. But you spent the rest of the day thinking about it. You looked, but you didn't sample. You found some guys who were surprisingly not in the Navy, but you didn't swipe. And maybe part of the reason you didn't was because Jake kept texting you all day long.
Monday was your tipping point. You were all ready to fly in your boots and flight suit when you ended up surrounded by the guys in the hangar. "We getting Padres tickets, Rodeo?" Bradley asked. "Day drinking at Petco Park?"
You nodded at him. "Sounds fun."
Then Mickey cut in as Jake walked over. "Hey, Hangman. How was our little redheaded friend?" he asked with a smirk, but Jake's expression stayed the same as his eyes met yours. 
"Wouldn't know."
"Oof," Bradley said with a goading laugh. "What, you kicked her out without even talking to her afterwards?"
You swallowed and looked down at your boots as you thought about the guys on the dating app. Maybe a little change of scenery wouldn't hurt anything after all.
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"Can you just knock it the fuck off?" Jake snapped. "I didn't even spend the night with her." He watched you put your helmet on as you walked toward your jet. "And I don't like talking about this shit around Rodeo anymore."
"Alright," Bradley replied with a tiny smirk. "No need to get mad about it."
When Jake took to the air, you were all business, as usual. You and he flew well together, like you always did. But back on the ground at lunchtime, you barely spared a glance in his direction in the cafeteria. Instead, you were completely absorbed in something on your phone as you picked at your food.
"What's wrong?" he eventually asked, and you looked up at him like you were surprised he was still there. 
"Nothing," you murmured, taking a drink before returning your attention to your phone. "Just working on something."
"On what?" he asked, voice almost as snippy as it had been earlier. He found he didn't like it when your attention wasn't focused on him, which was absolutely infuriating, because it's not like the two of you were anything. 
"My Tinder profile," you replied smoothly as you licked your lips, and Jake thought he must have misheard. Since when were you looking for a guy?
"Tinder?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed. "I'm just trying to sort out which photo to use, because I like this one where I'm in my flight suit, but guys don't really tend to go for that sort of thing."
You turned your phone to show him, and Jake swallowed hard. It was a photo he had taken a few months ago. He remembered that day. Your sunglasses were hooked on the top of your suit, and your helmet was tucked under your arm, and your smile was infectious. 
"I like that one," he told you softly. 
But you just rolled your eyes and groaned. "But you don't count, now do you?"
Jake shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Why are you on Tinder anyway?"
Now you laughed as you set your phone down. "Why do you think?"
He didn't want to think about it, even though he knew why. You were looking to hookup with someone. Or maybe it was even worse. Maybe you were looking for an actual boyfriend. Someone to spend all your time with. You'd be at the Hard Deck after work less frequently. You'd be going to the Padres game with some faceless idiot, and he'd be the one carrying you home after you overdid it at karaoke night. Worse yet, you could have your pick of any guy on that app who caught your eye, but Jake knew for a fact none of them were good enough for you. 
"Rodeo," he grunted, unsure how to voice his concerns. You just tapped your screen a few times and then smiled at him as his heart clenched a little bit.
"I went with the photo from Reuben's wedding instead."
Jake ran his fingers through his hair. He didn't even have to ask. He also knew that photo well too. His voice was soft as he said, "Blue dress. Holding a martini. Hand on your hip." He didn't like the idea of a bunch of guys he didn't even know looking at you wearing something so pretty.
"That's the one! And now my bio is live on the app," you said as you tapped your screen one last time. "Wish me luck."
You stood with your tray and Jake told himself he would do no such thing.
---------------------------
"That photo must have done the trick," you mumbled the following day in the rec room on base as Natasha helped you sort through your matches.
"I'm sure it did," she replied in awe. "You look hot in it."
You wanted to believe her, but it didn't even matter right now, because the two of you were staring at a photo of a hot guy who had sent you a message. You gasped. "Is this for real?"
"Looks like it," she replied. "If you don't fuck him, I will. Happily."
"What are the two of you over here whispering about?" You looked up into Jake's smiling eyes and gave him a grin of your own.
"Rodeo is getting all the Tinder hotties," Natasha replied, and suddenly Jake's smile vanished. "Let me know if he sends you a dick pic."
"He better fucking not!" Jake growled as he tried to reach for your phone. "Show me what this asshole looks like so I know who to pound to dust if he sends you one." You rolled your eyes and held up your phone so he could see. "His name is Tony? And he's a dentist?"
"What's wrong with that?" you asked quickly.
Jake crossed his arms over his chest. "If you have to ask, then you don't want to know."
You scoffed and opened your messages. "You're being dramatic. And I don't get on you about who you decide to hook up with."
"So you're just trying to hook up with this asshole?" he asked, his lips curling in disgust.
Honestly, you weren't really sure. But he sounded nice in the messages he sent. "Would it really be so bad if I was?"
Jake scrutinized your face like he was in pain, and you had the craziest thought flash through your mind that perhaps he was jealous. But then the pinched lines on his forehead vanished, and his voice was completely calm as he said, "You do what you want, Rodeo. But don't come crying to me about it later."
"Fine," you told him as he walked away. And that's what spurred you to reply to Tony's message with a more flirtatious one of your own. You were allowed to hook up with him. You were allowed to go out on a date. Maybe you'd even eventually request a dick pic. Jake wasn't in charge of your Tinder profile or dating agenda.
A few short exchanges back and forth was all it took, and suddenly you had plans for Saturday night that didn't involve hanging with the guys at the Hard Deck for once. Tony was going to take you out to dinner, and you were already excited.
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"Where the hell is Rodeo?" Bradley asked as he returned to the table with three bottles of beer instead of four. "She's usually here by seven."
Jake rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. "She's not coming. She's on a date with some smug looking asshole named Tony."
"Good for her," Mickey piped up, earning a glare from Jake. "I hope she gets laid. You wanna grab Javy and play pool?"
With a groan, Jake dragged himself out of his seat and forced his body through the motions. He hit the cue ball with perfect precision, but meanwhile, all he could think about was some other guy's hands all over your body while he shoved his tongue down your throat. "Fuck," he growled, trying to fight the urge to text you. If you wanted him, you knew how to reach him. 
Between shots, he glanced around the bar at all the other women, but he couldn't find a single one as pretty as you. He spent the rest of his night barely conversing with his friends while he hoped that your date was a complete flop. And when he left to head home alone, he caved and texted you to make sure you got back to your place safely. 
That was over twelve hours ago. Jake still hadn't heard back from you. It was damn near noon on Sunday, and he was left assuming that you spent the night with Tinder Tony. When you finally texted him back, the response made him toss his phone aside. 
Sorry, just seeing this now. Yes, I made it home safely. See you tomorrow.
Monday was worse. You were glued to your phone at every opportunity you got, and Jake could tell by the little smile on your face that you must be talking to that asshole. 
"Rodeo, how was your hot date?" Bradley asked, bumping your helmet with his while he winked at Jake. 
"Pretty good," you replied with a little laugh. 
"You get laid?" Mickey asked obnoxiously, and you rolled your eyes before glancing at Jake. He was dying to know the answer to the question, but also terrified to hear it. 
"Wouldn't you like to know," you replied, returning your attention to your phone. "Put it this way... I'm going out with him again for dinner on Wednesday."
"Who goes to dinner on a Wednesday?" Jake scoffed. "That's when we usually go to the bar! And what did you and Tinder Tommy even talk about the whole time? Dentures? Teeth?"
"No," you snapped at him. "He told me how pretty he thinks I am, and that he was nervous to meet me in person. And his name is Tony, not Tommy. So don't be rude when we stop by the bar after dinner on Wednesday."
"Can't wait to meet him," Jake grumbled, highly disappointed that your date had been even somewhat successful. And he still wasn't sure if you'd gone home with Tony. Or worse... if he'd gone home with you. 
Jake had crashed in your bed with you once a few months ago when you hosted game night. Mickey, Nat and Bradley all passed out in your living room, so you'd taken him by the hand to your bed. Every time he thought about it, he could practically feel the warmth of your body next to his and your foot hooked over his ankle. The idea of someone else there engaging in pillowtalk or fucking you just right was way too much for him to handle, because he was starting to feel like he wanted to be that person.
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Okay, so Tony was a little boring. A lot boring, actually. And on Wednesday night at dinner, he actually did mention dentures, and you could practically hear Jake scoffing from the Hard Deck. But Tony was hot and nice and he paid for dinner. Could you really hope for more than that?
"So, you mentioned stopping at a Navy bar?" he asked as you walked back to his car. "I keep forgetting you're even in the Navy. It just doesn't seem like you."
Maybe you should have used the other photo for your dating profile since you'd had to remind him twice already that there were a lot of women in the military now. "Yeah. It's called the Hard Deck. I usually hang out there on Wednesdays, and I thought maybe my friends could meet you?"
"Sure," he replied, and he even played boring music on the way there. But when he walked you inside, he kissed your cheek, and that felt kind of nice until Jake was looking. You felt embarrassed and a little guilty when he scowled at you from the pool table, so you eased yourself away from Tony and took him by the hand instead. 
"Hey, guys," you said cautiously as you approached the pool table. "This is Tony." 
Jake's jaw was clenched tight as he reached out to shake hands with your date in a death grip, and you cringed as he said, "Nice to meet you, Tommy." 
And it all went downhill from there. You had to correct him three times, even though you were sure he knew Tony's name. And even the other guys didn't really seem to mesh well with Tony. Bradley looked scandalized when he told them he didn't like beer or playing pool, and Mickey tried to make a dentist joke that just didn't land. 
You wanted to crawl into your bed and not come back out for a week. You also kind of wanted to ask Jake what his problem was. Tony was a nice guy. His hand on your back felt nice, and his goodnight kiss at your front door was nice. There was even some tongue, and you didn't stop his roaming fingers. Maybe another date or two and you'd ask him to come in.
"Would you like to get dinner on Saturday night?" he asked as his lips grazed your neck. "At the Boathouse?"
You closed your eyes and leaned back, and the image of Jake took over. His lips were on your earlobe, and he was whispering your name as you led him to your room. His hands were settling on your hips and squeezing gently as you melted into his touch.
"What do you think?" Tony asked, and you were jarred back to reality by his voice.
You swallowed hard and nodded as you opened your door. "Saturday night sounds good," you said as you ducked inside. "See you then."
You couldn't have Jake. You just needed to get it through your head that he didn't want you like that.
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Jake knew he was behaving poorly even as he was doing it. Tony looked annoyed by him, and you looked embarrassed, but he just kept calling him the wrong name and standing off to the side like a dick. He was actually the asshole. Not Tony. And he needed to apologize to you at work the next day. 
He found you in the hangar, pacing back and forth as you played with the strap on your helmet. When you turned, he started to say, "Hey, Rodeo, I'm really-"
"I need your help," you blurted out when you saw him heading your way. "I need you to come shopping with me tomorrow after work, because I wore my only two dresses already, and everything else in my closet is ridiculous. And Tony is taking me to the Boathouse on Saturday, so I can't just throw something together and call it a day."
Jake ground his back teeth together. The Boathouse was nice. As in, he could think of at least three people he knew who got engaged there. How much money did dentists make anyway? He was full blown jealous now. He knew that. But you'd asked him for help, so of course he was going to do whatever you wanted. Your eager eyes were enough to make him agree on the spot.
"Where are we going shopping?" he asked softly. 
You looked so relieved as you said, "The mall. I don't think it will take too long, and I can treat you to dinner as a thank you."
"No," he replied. "You don't owe me anything, Rodeo."
"Thanks, Jake," you whispered as you threw one arm around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. "I know I can trust you to tell me what looks good. Because you're a guy, and you know what guys like. I've been in such a rut, and I don't even know what looks nice on me anymore. But I trust your opinion."
He wrapped his arm around your waist and held you a little closer. If you trusted him, he wouldn't let you down. He never wanted to let you down. He would take you to the mall and tell you which outfits looked nice on you, even though he knew it would be all of them, and he would be cool about you dating Tony. "Sure, Rodeo. Anything you want."
When the time came, he was miserable. You seemed excited, bouncing on your feet in your jeans and sneakers as you collected dresses and cute little outfits to try on, but he knew none of this was really for him. You'd just be giving him a little sneak peak of what Tony would have his hands all over. 
"How about this one?" you asked, holding up a red mini dress that made Jake's mouth dry up. Then you moved it in front of your body and looked down. "It's probably too much for me."
He wanted to tell you that you couldn't pull it off, but he knew the fucking thing was made for you. "Try it on and see," he said softly, so you added it to your pile. Then he followed you like a puppy dog to the fitting room, holding half of the dresses for you to try on. When you passed the lingerie section, Jake had to watch you grab a few lacy items. "Have you slept with Tinder Tommy yet?" he snapped when you picked up a black bra and added it to your arms. 
You looked up at him with a soft pout. "Well, no. That's why I'm trying to buy some sexy stuff, you know? Just in case I want to take it there."
Jake had seen you in your bathing suit many, many times. You didn't need to be wearing anything made out of lace and silk to look sexy, but the sight of you in half of this shit would probably give Tony a damn heart attack. Then he realized as you led him along that he himself might not make it out of the fitting room alive.
"Just stand out here, okay?" you said softly, guiding him against the wall. He grunted in response and watched you line up everything you wanted to try on inside the fitting room before closing yourself inside. You kicked your shoes off, and then he watched you push your jeans down to your feet through the gap between the bottom of the door and the floor. You stepped out of them, and his imagination started to supply the rest. 
You were completely naked now, he was sure of that fact, and you were only a few feet away from him, separated by a flimsy door. His head tipped back against the wall as his breathing grew a little deeper. Your toenails were painted bright green, and you were talking quietly to yourself as you stepped into a black dress and started to guide it up your legs. 
"This isn't too bad," you muttered, and a few seconds later you were unlatching the door and pulling it open with an apprehensive look on your face. Jake's jaw dropped open as you stepped right up to him and asked, "What do you think?"
"Rodeo," he grunted, fisting his hands at his sides to keep them from touching you as you spun slowly in front of him. "Looks good."
You frowned a little more. "I was hoping for better than good," you replied, twirling away from him and back into the fitting room.
Jake's body was thrumming with desire as he watched that black fabric pool at your feet under the door. "It was better than good, Rodeo," he said, nearly choking on the words as you stepped to the side and bent to pick it up. 
"I'll try the red one," you informed him, and he had to press his lips together, knowing what was coming next. This time it took you a little longer, and he watched your feet under the door as you turned in front of the mirror. "It's really short," you finally said as you opened the door again. 
"Jesus Christ," Jake moaned softly. The thing fit you like a damn glove. Every curve and soft dip of your body was right there, begging to be touched. His palms were sweaty as he wiped them on his jeans, and then you spun, ending up just inches away from him again. 
He couldn't speak, and maybe you took that as a bad sign. "It's too much," you said with a little laugh. "I know it's too much, but it was fun to try it on anyway. It made me feel sexy," you said with a little shrug, barely able to meet his eyes. "I think the black one might be better for dinner at the Boathouse? Or do you think this one?"
Jake snapped out of his daze and remembered why he was here, suddenly pissed that this little fashion show wasn't just for his own benefit. "Come on, Rodeo. Tinder Tommy? Really? You think he deserves this?" When you just kind of shrugged at him, he said, "Get the red one if you're just looking to get laid."
"Okay," you replied, your little pout back on your pretty lips. 
He pushed away from the wall until he was nearly touching you. Practically snarling, he said, "Are you just looking to get laid?"
"Maybe," you said softly, looking at his neck. "He's actually into me, so maybe. I don't know, Jake. It's been a long time since a guy chose me, you know?" He opened his mouth to tell you that any guy in the world would choose you when you said, "I have one more dress."
Then he had to stand there and watch the red fabric hit your feet before you guided the tiniest little green dress up your calves. He was jealous. He was so jealous. And the fact that he'd had a whole fucking year to ask you out instead of fucking wasting his time was crashing down on him right now. You were going to wear one of these dresses to the Boathouse tomorrow, and Tony was going to take it off you. He was going to fuck you, and then someday you'd probably get married. Jake would be at your wedding sitting between Mickey and Bradley and making himself sick over this whole thing. 
The door opened. You were stunning. You didn't even leave the fitting room doorway this time in that green dress that was hugging your tits and your waist and showing off so much leg that Jake thought he was going to black out. "I can tell by your face that it's not good," you said with a wince. "It's a little too low cut, so I couldn't imagine wearing it in front of Tony."
His voice came out low and rough as he said, "You're wearing it in front of me just fine."
"But I don't count, remember?" You closed and locked the door, and Jake was immediately leaning against it. Literally each dress was hotter than the one before it, and Jake didn't know how to articulate what he was feeling right now. How on earth did he end up so far in the friend zone that he couldn't claw his way out if he tried? What the fuck made Tinder Tony so special? Why were you looking around on the app anyway? He couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened, but you were never going to take him seriously, even if he knew he could be what you wanted.
The rustling of fabric and the sound of the zipper had him resting his forehead on the door. "Rodeo, Baby, you can't...buy one of these dresses. Not for Tony. Okay? Come on. He's not good enough for you."
"Oh." That was all you said. You just replied with one word, and Jake's blood was boiling. He wanted to dismantle the entire fitting room and take you back home and tell you that you could do a hell of a lot better than some lame ass dentist who didn't like beer or playing pool. But you'd just muttered one word, and he was dying to know if he could ever stand a chance at making you happy. 
"Rodeo?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. You unlocked the door and he stepped back a few inches so you could open it, expecting to see you in your jeans once again with the dress of your choosing in your hands. "Oh, fuck," he groaned, his heart hammering in his chest. "Absolutely not!"
Jake pushed you back further into the fitting room and managed to wrench his broad shoulders through the doorway before kicking the door closed. You were biting your lip, your eyes wide as his hands came to rest on your lace covered hips. 
"Jake," you whispered as he shook his head at the sight of you in a lacy black bra and tiny underwear. 
"What the hell are you thinking?" he groaned, fingers digging gently into your warm body as he listened to the little sound you made. "You're killing me here." Your hands came up to his wrists before you slid them up along his arms, and Jake took a step closer until his jeans were brushing against your bare belly. He would need to be removed from the mall in a body bag at this rate. 
Then you whispered, "I like you. And maybe there's a chance that you like me, too? And maybe that's part of the reason I asked you to come here with me."
Jake swallowed hard as he leaned in, dizzy from the way you smelled so sweet and felt so perfect in his hands. "Dump him. Dump Tony." You whimpered at his words as he slid one hand down further, teasing the lace covering your ass at the same time his other hand went up to tug at the side of the bra. "Because this? This should be for me."
"Jake." Your voice was a needy whine as you scraped your fingernails along his shoulders and chest, trying to pull him closer. But he shook his head as he pushed you back harder against the wall, lips hovering over yours as you whispered his name.
He knew what he wanted. He'd known for a while, really, but now he was ready to take it. "I want to kiss you. But if I do, I'm not going to be able to go back, okay?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I won't go back to being Rodeo and Hangman, just friends. I will not do that. Not with you. Not when you count more than anyone else."
Your lips crashed against his, and Jake sighed in relief as he held you in his arms the way he'd been dying to for so long. The lingerie and all the little dresses were only for him. Your kisses and your smile and your fingers in his hair were for him, not Tony. He ran his hands down to your ass as you giggled and nipped at his lips. 
"Pick a dress, Baby," he muttered between kisses. "And we'll get the lingerie, too."
"Okay," you replied with a smile before you took his bottom lip between yours, making him moan. 
"Tomorrow night, I will take you out, and you can show me this little getup again if you want to."
You looked up at him with the prettiest smile he'd ever seen. "I want to."
---------------------------
You nudged Bradley with your elbow. "Hey, she's cute," you said, nodding toward the brunette across the aisle. "You guys should go talk to her." He and Mickey both leaned forward to look without any subtlety whatsoever, and you laughed. 
"Maybe at the end of the inning," Bradley replied, manspreading so much in his seat at the Padres game that he kept bumping your leg and nudging your shoulder. But he was grinning, and you could already tell that he and Mickey were about to turn it into a competition to see who could get her phone number first. 
But there was one key player missing from their game now, and you smiled as you saw Jake apologetically climbing over everyone else in your row before plopping down into the seat next to you and kissing your cheek with a smile. "The line was long as hell for your favorite beer," he said as he handed it to you. "Did I miss anything?"
You shook your head as Bradley said, "You're just in time to watch the real show, Hangman. Rodeo, I want you to time how long it takes before I get her number." 
But you weren't really listening as Bradley and Mickey started to argue, and neither was Jake as he kissed your cheek again. You didn't feel like you were simply blending in, and you didn't feel like you were just one of the guys anymore. You were grinning and sipping your beer as Jake's lips met your ear and he asked, "Are you wearing that black set right now?"
"I'll let you find out later.
---------------------------
Happy birthday, Alli! I hope you enjoyed the blonde one! Big thanks to @mak-32 @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for all your help!
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imagopersonal · 9 months
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Give me coffee or give me death
I don’t believe in the Coffee Theory per se. I think the whole ‘drugged coffee’ thing is a bit too spy movie to be in Good Omens, but- BUT
The fact that that coffee is in the intro;
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The fact that you can see The Metatron in line, waiting for his turn, BEFORE he gets into the coffee shop, like if he was an out of place detail you were supposed to notice and ask yourself questions about;
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The very long and apparently superfluous dialogue about choosing coffee instead of death, and how “predictable” that is;
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The fact that for two seasons we NEVER see Aziraphale drinking coffee, like that’s not his thing, that’s Crowley’s thing, he’s the “six-espressos-in-a-big-cup” guy, Aziraphale drinks hot chocolate or tea, and we have to assume The Metatron knows that, because he went into that coffee shop and asked for such a specific thing that makes you think that’s something he chose specifically for Aziraphale (who still doesn’t drink coffee, so why?).
He looks reluctant at the idea of drinking it at first
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but he accepts it out of courtesy, I presume, and this is the face he makes when he tries it:
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Even he is surprised he liked it. He’s on Earth since 6000 years, so we can assume he tried coffee before and chose not to drink it. He’s either lying about liking it out of courtesy, or this is the only coffee he’s ever enjoyed, and The Metatron knew he would have liked it and chose that coffee on purpose.
So, the coffee is either important as a physical element, as something that had an actual effect on Aziraphale and changed him somehow, or it’s important in its metaphorical significance. In Good Omens almost everything is metaphorical, so the second option is very likely.
Now, what’s the coffee supposed to represent? The only certain thing we know, is that the coffee is something The Metatron offers Aziraphale, so it probably represents the offer he’s about to make.
Considering the whole “Does anyone ever choose death?” conversation, considering the fact that we don’t know how the conversation between The Metatron and Aziraphale went, we only know the version Aziraphale chooses to tell Crowley, and considering The Metatron is the angel that decided to erase Gabriel’s memory just because he said “nah” about Armageddon 2.0 and Aziraphale is the traitor, the one who stopped the Armageddon 1.0, so The Metatron has no reason to be friendly with him, my question is:
Did Aziraphale actually have a choice?
Or the alternative was worse than leaving Crowley and the bookshop?
Was it actually coffee or death?
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tismrot · 7 months
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The uwu-fication of Good Omens
I’m not saying this to piss on anyone’s parade, everyone can like whatever they want and I realize that people who are perhaps… not experienced in traumatic adult relationships and/or aren’t bitter remnants of whatever ray of light they were supposed to be - I realize their fiction will probably be (for lack of better words)… light and easy.
I also realize that due to the collective heartbreak we’ve experienced after the end of season 2, a little fluff is perhaps needed. Again, not defecating on any crowds - but, like, we did watch the same show, right?
There are some REALLY good meta out there, as well as some fics and some art that really captures the essence of both Crowley and Aziraphale, and the context they struggle within.
…And then there are fics and art/comics where particularly Crowley is reduced to this very tsundere, cranky-despite-secretly-affectionate anime character who blushes and gets ✨ve-y angy✨ whenever he gets a kiss on his cheek or something and I’m like… okay? But. That’s not Crowley, is it? (Yes, you can make him into a hemipened waifu pillow for all I care, go do what makes you happy) - it’s just… You know?
Crowley and Aziraphale are (despite their celestial origins) - at their core - two middle aged, closeted, homosexual men who used to work for two equally oppressive, evil and incompetent fascist governments. That’s why they meet on the benches in the park, like all the other agents sent from other oppressive nations and agencies. The book was written during the last years of the cold war, and during the height of the AIDS crisis. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the first meds for HIV came in 1992 - being gay and being seen with the enemy could bring about equally terrifying death sentences. Yet, they do their best to thwart their Cold War, and then, the nuclear apocalypse.
After barely succeeding, they become as close as they dare to be, and they both know they love each other. Of course they do. That’s why Crowley wants them to stop pretending they don’t. He already assumes Aziraphale knows, because HE DOES KNOW.
Crowley isn’t (canonically) an uwu angy tsundere snek. He is a miserable ex-agent screaming at his closeted, gay lover for refusing to run away with him after 6000 years of war. Crowley is the opposite of tsundere, he is an open, aching wound.
Aziraphale isn’t a kawaii angel cup of hot chocolate, he is a desperate and scared idealist who is threatened into compliance by Great Leader, and who secretly wants nothing more than to let go of all propriety and just allow himself to be happy and freely experience life and love with the man he’s wanted all along, far from all oppression both from society and Heaven.
You guys, this is a story about fighting oppression for love. I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same side.
And perhaps I’m just old, perhaps my experiences with multiple failed relationships, friendships and my own fallen idealism tints my glasses… But I feel a certain way about all the uwu. I’m sorry. Do uwu if you want. I’m gonna focus on the OPPRESSION, because - apparently - that’s the wall my socks stick to.
And yeah, I know this is very old man yells at cloud. Younger people (or people who just aren’t exactly like me) seeing this show or reading the book deserve the right to play around with it, just like I do. I know, I know, I know. I just needed to say this. Slay me if you must.
End of rant. Thank you for coming to my depression.
EDIT: Yes, I made the Avril Lavigne thing further down. Yes, I am a hypocrite. I’ve made my peace with this.
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mythologyolympics · 5 months
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Ancient World Dashboard Simulator
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🐢 aristotlestortoise Follow
I'm so sick of these philosophers waving dead chickens around to prove their point like that's not contributing to unnecessary food waste when children are starving in Gaul
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🦷 diogenessimp Follow
and who says they didn't eat the chicken afterwards you presumptuous garum sipper
besides how would that benefit a starving child in gaul diogenes did that in athens thats like 6000 stadia away from gaul
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🐢 aristotlestortoise Follow
As if donating a day-old chicken that had been used as a prop isn't a hazard for food poisoning or something geez
How about you bring in a live chicken and demonstrate your point with that and then donate it to a godsdamned farmer who can do something with it
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🦷 diogenessimp Follow
look neither of us understands diogenes whole school of thought as well as he does and if he thinks using poultry for props is the best choice then imma trust he knows what he's talking about
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🦣 giantwoolybones
do you guys know that you are arguing about a dead chicken
24,874 notes
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👨���👦 corophilus
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not to be an art critic on main or anything but has this sculptor ever heard of a dynamic pose
#a boy this age would be moving!!
3 Notes
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✊ p-o-p-u-l-a-r-i-s Follow
The people just don't seem to care about how Caligula keeps beginning new construction projects with public funds. People are homeless and starving and he puts up a new theater in the middle of the city as if we need that.
Now he's claiming to be a god?? Plus there's rumors he has sex with his horse.
It's very important that you contact the members of the senate to let them know the people are ready to rise up if they don't depose Caligula. We should get organized and flood the streets.
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🎽 crixusstan
I see you not reblogging this. Come on, this should have 200k notes
14,381 Notes
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💸 achaemenid Follow
Dude, this invention of the coin is so iconic. Cyrus is gonna go down in history for this one. I mean that in a good way.
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🪙 lydianmetallurgy Follow
Sorry but Cyrus stole the entire concept of the coin from us and I'm sick of people acting like we didn't have contributions to make to advancements in science and culture just because we were conquered by your stupid empire. Cyrus is a tyrant and just wants to gather as much power as he can.
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🦁 daniyye
Cyrus let my people go back to our homeland, so he's all right by me
#by the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion #now we don't have to do that anymore!!
18 Notes
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🥇 gladiatorheadtohead Follow
Remember, you're voting for who you think would win the fight, not who you like the best.
24 Notes
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🐺 lyca
just left my den and there's just 2 human babies lying on the ground all alone
wtf do i do
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🐺 lyca
so i happen to already be lactating so i guess... i just have 2 more cubs now?
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🐺 lyca
guys these babies are so cute. i think they're going to do great things one day
#personal #do not reblog i mean it this time 6 Notes
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🍆 miletus-leather Follow
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The best sex toy shop in Miletus. Come see our selection!
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🦌 artemisbow Follow
I'm not one to harsh on a small business trying to make it but I've been to this shop and women are an afterthought here. You'd think the only people interested in dildos were men the way they act here.
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🍆 miletus-leather Follow
Women should be weaving and taking care of their children, not coming into our sex shop.
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😈 hermescock Follow
K
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🐐 blessedsatir
U
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ineffablydaydreaming · 7 months
Text
Okay. I need to ramble.
Crowley's entire existence revolves around the apple, it's an event that's in constant repetition. Let me explain:
To humanity, he only had to give them the apple once. With humanity, neither the two hesitated: Crowley says it out loud, he doesn't get what's wrong with knowing the difference between good and evil (even though personally I don't interpret that as being the only thing the apple is about), so he didn't hesitate in creating the original sin, because he either didn't think it was a big deal, or because he thought it was important that humans gained that Knowledge and formed their own opinions and thoughts on the universe rather than being eternally naive, or both. And the humans didn't hesitate to grasp that knowledge either, because... Well, we're humans, you and I. I think we can probably relate.
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So as soon as he climbed that wall of Eden he was done, but just with humanity. When he re-encountered Aziraphale, the apple event started to repeat itself again. Over and over, throughout their entire 6000 years of being together, Crowley tried giving Aziraphale the apple, but differently from humanity, Aziraphale hesitated every single time and only took small pieces.
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Over and over, Crowley voices his thoughts on God's plan and God Herself. "You can't kill children! [...] But that's something one'd expect my side to do..." He also voices his thoughts on Heaven and Hell's way of working, especially the way they treat humans. "Our administrations don't care how things are done, they just want them done." "That only works if you start everyone off equal. You can't start someone off like that and expect them to do as well as someone born in a castle."
All of this is Crowley offering Aziraphale the apple. The apple is knowledge, it's the knowledge that you aren't the good guys. you are flawed. you are corrupt. they are brainwashing you. you're just a tool for them to meet their own goals. they don't care about you nor humanity, just keeping the status quo.
He's tempting him, constantly, with the knowledge, for him to finally realize the truth, and sometimes it works. The Beginning, The Deluge, A Companion to Owls, The Ressurectionist and Armageddon were all attempts Crowley made for Aziraphale to finally eat the apple. In The Beginning and in The Deluge it doesn't do much. You can see the doubt in his eyes and his voice, how he doesn't approve of what God wants to do but can't say it nor do anything about it.
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In A Companion to Owls, it's the first time he lies without lying by omission, instead directly lying to Gabriel. He looks at Crowley before he does it. He looks at Crowley, because they share empathy for humanity, for Job's children they refused to let die.
He looks at Crowley, and Crowley offers him a slice of the apple. And he bit it.
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In The Ressurectionist, it's not about Aziraphale going against his staff, it's him questioning the morals he was taught by Heaven. It isn't much in comparison... But you can see he regrets what he did and chooses to help Elspeth. The one who rebels is Crowley, who prevents her from dying and going to Hell, and it's implied he's tortured because of it (next flashback is him asking for Holy Water).
In this case, Crowley simply led him to the apple. Humanity offered it. He took another bite.
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In Armageddon, Crowley offers him the apple, saying that they can't just let the world end while watching it. Aziraphale hesitates, then bites it, agreeing to help raise Warlock. They realize they got the wrong boy and Crowley wants to give up, but Aziraphale doesn't give up, instead continues his search. Crowley offers him the apple, saying they need to kill the antichrist somehow, saying he won't do it because of his own morals while Aziraphale says he won't do it because of Heaven's reputation: he refuses to bite it. But only this time. After their two breakups, he's hopeful, he thinks he can fix things, he talks to Metatron. His hope vanishes.
He bites the apple, at last. It's why he doesn't hesitate trying to shoot Adam while he's in Tracy's body. It's why he tries to defend Adam saying Heaven and Hell might be going against the Ineffable Plan. It's why he tells Crowley to do something when Satan is coming. It's why he and Crowley swap bodies in order to survive. He eats the apple, he has the knowledge, and he doesn't give it up.
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He and Crowley always do what they think is right. I doubt I need to explain Season 2 in this post, do I? Entire season is Aziraphale evading Heaven and trying to find a solution to Gabriel's situation on his own. He bit the apple on the first episode before Crowley even showed up.
But then, why did Aziraphale give Adam and Eve the flaming sword if he didn't talk to Crowley beforehand? Wasn't that his own idea?
Well. Before the Beginning, I truly feel like that conversation about how the nebula will have to be shut down in 6000 years didn't just plant the seed of doubt on Crowley, it also did on Aziraphale. His was much tinier, quieter, he was still loyal to Heaven... Until he no longer could be. Until he saw an unarmed Adam and a pregnant Eve leaving the Garden to the outside world where everything was cold and deadly and out to get them. The seed of doubt tied its roots on Aziraphale's sympathy and kindness, for Crowley but, especially, for humanity. He's their guardian, after all. He couldn't just stand and watch.
Because, back then, in space, he had bit a tiny piece of the apple when Crowley, unintentionally, offered it to him. "You can't create an entire universe, run it for a couple thousand years, then stop!" He tasted it, even if just for a fraction, but then handed it away. "It's not up to us to make decisions for the Almighty." But the taste, the seed of doubt, was still there, lingering. So he gives away the flaming sword.
Their sympathy for humanity (and for each other; "I wouldn't want you to get in trouble!") is a trait they mutually share, and because they've both tasted the apple, they're willing to break their respective rules in order to stand for what they think is right. And we can see that Aziraphale's sympathy doesn't extend only to humans, he feels it for Gabriel when he says something terrible would happen if he didn't come to the bookshop.
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But Crowley wasn't the first person in the universe to offer someone the apple, you see.
This is the ironic part.
You see, Crowley offered the apple to Aziraphale, then to humanity, then tried, for thousands of years, to make Aziraphale eat the rest of it. But do you know who made Crowley eat the apple himself? Do you know who made Crowley receive the knowledge? Do you know who made Crowley differentiate fair from unfair, good from evil, bad from good? Do you know who made Crowley decide to disagree, to form his own thoughts, to express his unsatisfaction with God's plan?
Aziraphale.
Aziraphale started it -- he stated a fact, a knowledge, that Crowley disagreed with and thought was unfair and a bad idea. Crowley's Fall began right then and there with him voicing his concerns and losing his faith.
Aziraphale stated where the apple was and Crowley willingly picked it up and ate it, and now, Crowley is in a constant loop of offering the apple to Aziraphale himself.
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Crowley fell because he bit the apple before it was even called an apple. Aziraphale offered it to him without even knowing and now he's doomed to eat it too.
"I'm just a demon who goes along with Hell's plans as far as he can."
[...]
"You're just an angel who goes along with Heaven's plans as far as he can."
"But that sounds..." "Lonely? Yeah."
[...]
"We're on our side."
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drconstellation · 4 months
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First-Order Archangels
Part 1: Maybe You'll Spot An Archangel
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GABRIEL: I told you you could ask. However, I am the only First-Order archangel in the room, or, you know, the Universe, so I'm not gonna answer so much. But you feel free to knock yourself out with all the asking.
While I was writing my meta series The Passion Of Jimbriel it became fairly obvious to me there was something more going on between Crowley and Gabriel in S2 than just the numerous pointers to Crowley's pre-fall angel status. They are acting as both parallels and foils to each other, and in places you can swap their characters and get the same story at a different time – and that just opens up a whole new window of context and insight into things. For pre-reading, see this meta from @vidavalor that nicely lists some obvious parallels. It doesn’t mention everything though, so I’m going to discuss parts in more detail.
A foil is a character who contrasts with the protagonist, to highlight or differentiate certain qualities between the characters. Crowley and Gabriel do this because they have come from essentially the same place, and share some story elements, but they still end up in different places.
There is a lengthy original discussion about Crowley's pre-fall angel status here, for pre-reading. It points out the obvious and some not so obvious points that ops have noticed in S2 telling us about Crowley's pre-fall status. Rather than just go through them all again, I'd like to look at some other scenes in S2 that also tell us something about both the similarities and the differences between these two high-powered entities as I go along. In addition, I’ve done a series of posts looking at Gabriel as a shoulder angel (links at the end of post,) because quite often he’s on the demonic left-hand side – which makes sense when you realize he’s a Crowley parallel.
Take the arrival of Gabriel to Whickber St and the bookshop. I’ve already mentioned this parallel story line a couple of times now, but lets look at it again in more detail. It mirrors the opening of S1E1 where the serpent climbs the wall of the Garden of Eden, morphs into a demon and starts to converse with the angel standing on the wall.
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Back in the present day, we have a Gabriel, who also tends to present on the sinister-side, walking up to the gate of the present day Garden (the bookshop), which is still guarded by the same angel as it was 6000 years ago, and basically tells Aziraphale he has “fallen.”
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How to we know this? It is a reference to the Fall of Man, when Adam and Eve ate the apple the serpent offered them, they suddenly became aware of their nakedness, and hid from God. Gabriel has already upset the love-apple tomato cart on his way to the door of the bookshop, its a sign of the chaos to come.
The fallen angel is not sure of his name, so he prompts with a question…
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And asks for shelter under the (reluctant) angel’s wing..
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But there is one thing he does know, the one thing that drew him to Aziraphale in the first place:
AZIRAPHALE: Then why did you come to my shop? GABRIEL: I don't know. I just thought I should. You know what it's like when you- when you don't know anything at all, and yet you're totally certain that everything would be better if you were just near one particular person?
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Later, Aziraphale realizes that he must give Gabriel a new name to hide him – because fallen angels take on a new name, don’t they? Just like Crowley did.
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Then we get a confession:
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Which is what Crowley loves about Aziraphale as well - that bit of unpredictability, because you know how humour kind of works? It throws the unexpected at you.
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Early on in S2 we find out they are both in trouble: first His Royal Smugness, then Our Hero himself. Our view is turned upside down, with the angel made the bad guy and the demon the good guy who needs to win. But both of them are being hunted by Shax.
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Then we get one of the early clues pointing to Crowley's high status as an angel:
SHAX: A miracle of enormous power happened last night. The kind of miracle only the mightiest of Archangels could've performed. CROWLEY: Mm? SHAX: Somewhere very close to your friend's bookshop. Are you telling me you don't know what caused it? CROWLEY: How'd you know I didn't do it?
Shax stalks and threatens both of them, sometimes at the same time:
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Another parallel Gabriel and Crowley shared in S2 were associating their identity - no, lets rephrase that - "essence" was one description I've seen - with boxes.
Gabriel arrives with a box that strategically covers his front, and quickly tosses it aside once Aziraphale opens the door to the bookshop. It lies forgotten until Gabriel mentions it a while later. Inside it is the fly from Beelzebub - an object from Hell - so it really needs to be 'invited' across the threshold of the bookshop by Aziraphale to be able to enter. The box initially appears to be empty, Once inside, the fly is free to roam. It has a message written on one side of it.
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The same goes for the matchbox. Message included.
ah, wot? you say. Yep.
The matchbox represents Crowley, probably in more ways than one, but I'll just go through the stuff relevant to this meta here.
I notice I'm not the only op to connect the line from the Book of Job on the side of the matchbox with Crowley. The line is from Verse 41, which talks about Leviathan. Among the various shapes it is described to take is a great sea serpent. This deserves its own meta for further discussion, which I plan to do after this one, because yes, Crowley is Leviathan in disguise, but there is much more to it than that. But for now, just know that the matchbox is Crowley.
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Once you know this, it makes sense that Muriel finds it - a discarded cardboard box by the front door to Heaven - and deals with a material object that shouldn't by rights exist in Heaven. Then a certain demon finds Muriel lurking outside during the siege on the bookshop at the end of S2E5, and talks them into letting the certain demon be escorted up into Heaven where he doesn't belong, where he's free to roam around - only he needs a guide because he's not sure where to go. Ah Muriel, you poke the Serpent, he's going to poke you back. Good thing he likes you, and it just was a gentle nudge.
Two empty boxes, two cases of memory-loss. That is what S2 seems to suggest to us at first glance.
Gabriel's seems to be the most straight forward in hindsight - find the fly and restore Gabriel to his original "Gabriel-ness." But its more complicated than that. When pushed to remember, his lilac eyes return and another voice can be heard speaking through him of the past. This happens twice, with the second one being part-prophecy. What is really triggering these episodes of channeling? Is it God or someone else speaking through him? We really aren't sure at this point in time.
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Then there are questions around Crowley's memory. Did he have his memory wiped when he fell? Was it wiped repeatedly? Was it not wiped at all, and he just pretends he doesn't remember? Neil has even said he is an unreliable narrator about his own Fall, so who are we to trust at this point? Crowley does seem to understand in the end some of the problems Gabriel is having with his absent memories and that brings them to a temporary truce.
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Both Aziraphale and Michael inspect their respective "empty" boxes, and neither notices anything obviously amiss. Gabriel's box just seems empty to Aziraphale, he takes no notice of the fly container in there, and archangel Michael tentatively inspects the matchbox brought to them by Muriel but nothing seems out of place there either.
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Crowley's change in costume in Heaven during his little infiltration caper with Muriel is also another clue to his past status as an archangel. He has a silvery-gray suit, similar in style to Saraqael's to reinforce the link with them, but at the same time he is also mocking the other archangels and their elite status. We've assumed for a while now that the appearance of the tactical turtleneck signals that Crowley is up to something sneaky or spy related, but I'm starting to think it also relates to a bit of a power play (and Crowley certainly laid the power on for Mr Brown in the pub!) Looking back at S1, Gabriel's not adverse to wearing one either when he needs to be at his worst (or best. Your choice.)
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The way one dresses is a way of expressing and reinforcing authority, and its something both Gabriel and Crowley do without much thought. They have been used to being in a position of power and/or independent authority for much of their existence, and I would say that even if Crowley is a few steps down now from where he started, and he's more cautious around those higher ranking than him than he used to be, he still retains that knowledge of what its like to be at the top.
Crowley's usual near all-black costume is a form of power dressing in itself. Whether is was in the past, when black was an expensive color to buy and maintain in clothing, or in the present day, we are still respectful of those in a stylish cut of black.
Gabriel's impeccable tailoring as Supreme Archangel also commands respect. So it's no wonder that one of Gabriel's first requests on regaining his memories was to ask for new clothes! He wasn't just being the vain archangel we believe him to be (although, I think there is still some of that) you also need to consider the elements of the reference characters that went into his shop assistant character: Granville, the belittled shop assistant nephew from the sitcom Open All Hours, who got stuck with all the shop duties from his uncle and felt like life was passing him by, and the silly Monty Python gumbies, that complained of hurting brains - lovable and much loved characters, but not ones you'd really want to be forever. We all want to be loved, but we want to be respected as well.
For all his fierce posturing around Gabriel, there is a brief moment in S2E3 where Crowley backs down and treats Gabriel as an equal - and that is reflected in a change of dress as well. His outside jacket off and sleeve-garters on, Crowley sports a look we haven't seen since S1 when he was home alone in his Mayfair flat. He patiently explains gravity to a curious Gabriel and then describes his "Operation Lovebirds" plan to his puzzled companion. He admits he hasn't "done weather in ages." It's just a quiet, charming moment, watching two ex-archangels get along together.
You're smiling, aren't you?
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This meta continues in Part 2: Foils of War, where the differences between Gabriel and Crowley get explored in more detail, and how Aziraphale and Beelzebub act as mirrors to each other a few times as well.
This meta is part of a series on Gabriel: Gabriel as a Shoulder Angel: S1 Study S2 Study Part 1: Ep.1 The Arrival and Ep. 2 The Clue S2 Study Part 2: Ep.3 I Know Where I'm Going and Ep. 5 The Ball S2 Study Part 3: Ep.6 Every Day
First-Order Archangels Part 2: Foils of War
First-Order Archangels Part 3: Seeing Eye to Eye
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ringdabel · 4 months
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My thoughts on OP ships except im being 100% honest (P.1)
*LuNami - Cute but im not a big fan of it - Autisum and girlboss frfr - idm if its canon! I mean i like their moments of hugging and all, they're all so silly and i absolutely adore them! ^^ *LuHan - Nah... HARD pass... - I do not ship them at all and refuses to - their age gap is 12 and i think personally Boa is just having some kind of highschool crush -if this ship becomes canon...... bro im gonna stare in the distance and cry - If you ship these two...... NO OFFENSE! But What is wrong with you :[ *LuZo/ZoLu - MY EMOTINAL SUPPORT SHIP YIPPIEEEEE - They are so SO CANON u cannot convince me otherwise!!! - Dumb and Dumber. - I love and ADORE their dynamic! their interactions, first meetings, etc... EVERYTHING THEYRE SOOO CUTE AGHHCBSDBIL <3333 - The crew KNOWS they love eachother. They know what they are. - shamelessly kisses eachother goodnight - Zoro will die for Luffy, and Luffy will stop him. *LuSan/Sanlu - ONE OF MY FAV SHIPS EVER!!! Their interactions!! >>>>>> - WE KNOW SANJI LOVES HIM AND ADORES HIM. WE KNOW THAT ALREADY YOU FRENCH FRY - He wants to be Luffy's special boy in the OPLA, c'mon, its so obv - Sanji gets jealous when Luffy compliments other cooks other than him, its canon guys, trust me. MOVIE 6, THAT PHYSILOGICAL HORROR MOVIE OF OP. *ZoSanLu/ZoLuSan -POWER POLY LOVERS ON TOP! -i love them. *cries* -I have 400 pages of fanart featuring these stupid boneheads. - they sleep together and Luffy steals all the blankets - Zoro will def giving them his earings. aghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh *LuKob/Koblu -Comfort ship of mine!!! THEYRE SO CUTE ITS ILLEGAL!!!! - I want them to reunite again, then hold hands and kiss eachother on the lips then go on cute little dates :[ - LUFFY IS KOBY'S GAY AWAKENING CHANGE MY MIND (i feel like hes more like bi or pan BUT) - Koby owns 6000 wanted posters of Luffy and its canon that he wants more of them. hes such a fanboy omg.... - If they ever date... they will have a matching handmade bracelet... Luffy's red and Koby's pink.... each has letters of eachother... - (ALSO THERES THIS FAV FIC OF THEM FROM AO3, THE AUTHOR IS okiedokeTM (madelinescribbles) AND THE FIC IS CALLED "Koby's Awful No-Good Very Confusing Day" CHECK IT OUT IF YOU CAN!!!!) - im very normal abt them (lie) *LuUso/UsoLu - Very cute ship!!1 - i personally see them as best friends more but its still verey cute! - They bond, they hug, they hit and they danced. yeah i get how ppl ship them!!!!!!!!! *LuLaw/Lawlu -Tbh.... its very cute! - i used to be obsessed with this ship bcs their dyanmic is so interesting, like Black cat and golden retriver! - i still kinda do ndcnas - Luffy reminds Law of Corazon bcs of his goofiness ughh CRIES - I hc Law that he has a soft spot for silly, goofy ppl, his sister, his crew, Corazon, LUFFY????????? He loves them but will never admit smh smh - When he ruins all of your well-planned plans that took you a whole week to make <3333333 *CobyLuLaw/KobyLawLu -AYEEEEEEEEEEE MY NEW FAV SHIP!!!!!!!!!!!!! - F**K BEING UNDERRATED, I WANT THIS TO BE KNOWN ACROSS THE WHOLE F**KING WORLD!!!!!! - PLSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS ITS SO CUTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! U HAVE TO WRITE FICS ABT IT I NEED MORE OF IT!!!1 - I want to thank @orange-artist for drawing and having KobyLawLu on my breakfast table!!!!!!!!!! - AND FOR YOU THE PPL WHO WRITE THE FICS ILY - me omw to make brainrots of these three stupid peas in a pod, fishes in a bowl, pens in a pencilcase :]]]
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aziraphales-library · 22 days
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Hello!!! Thank you guys for everything you do, especially with having to navigate the insanity that is ao3 for all of us.
I was wondering if you had any fics of Crowley and Aziraphale being overly cuddly/touchy? Like just kisses cuddles the most tooth rotting sweet stuff ya got?
Thank you <3!!!
Hi. We have plentiful #cuddling & snuggling and #kissing tags, so check those. Here are some more fics to add...
Wrap Me Up in Your Arms by flowing_river (G)
Crowley and Aziraphale discover the joys of cuddling after 6000 years of being forced to keep their distance.
Save water, shower together by moonyliaa (G)
Did you know? Taking a long, warm Bath or shower can help fight feelings of loneliness? (Bonus points if you are not alone in the shower in the first place...) Crowley feels cold. He always is. But today he's particularly cold. (I wonder if the cold is a metaphor for something?) Aziraphale wants to warm Crowley up. A hot shower seems to be the most plausible solution. A Story about gentle hands and many many feelings
Move a little closer by Angelica_Tree (G)
Aziraphale is delighted, and surprised, to discover just how much Crowley enjoys embraces. But it’s also very apparent that the demon is waiting for something to, once more, go wrong between them. As Christmas approaches, Aziraphale finally find a way to assure Crowley that he has nothing to worry about. This fic is set after season 1 and is not season 2 compliant.
Our Precious and Peaceful Existence by Chillax_92 (T)
Aziraphale falls asleep with his head in Crowley's lap. Crowley marvels at his angel, and a thought pops into his head as he's examining Aziraphale's hands..
What You Two Need by kaliawai512 (T)
Aziraphale is sitting next to Crowley on the sofa, and now Crowley kind of wants to lean into his side. Aziraphale would love him to do exactly that. This would be a lot simpler if they could just figure out how to ask for what they want. (Or: an angel and a demon come up with separate, convoluted plans to reach the exact same goal.) (Or: Crowley introduces Aziraphale to modern cinema and accidentally changes the trajectory of their entire lives.)
Hang a Shining Star (Upon the Highest Bough) by kaliawai512 (T)
When the apocalypse is averted (for the second time), there comes the After. The Earth keeps on turning. Animals go about their lives. Local humans bustle about in a holiday season they almost didn't get. And an angel and a demon, together once again, figure out what After is going to look like for them. This time, with a new bonus angel to join in. (Or: Crowley, Aziraphale, and Muriel celebrate their first Christmas without Heaven or Hell hanging over them, and the Ineffables take some long-awaited steps forward together.)
- Mod D
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eddiemunsonswhxre · 2 years
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more than expected / eddie munson
one shot
rated: m (18+, minors DNI)
cw: heavy dom/sub, sub!eddie, mommyk!nk, teasing, orgasm denial, overstimulation, pillow humping, masturbation, breeding k!nk
note: when i started this, i definitely didn’t think it would be over 6000 words but here we are.
you never expected to get down and dirty with eddie munson. you also never expected him to be so whiny.
eddie appeared at your house a little after five o’clock with a six pack, a couple horror movies, and a taco bell bag. he knew your parents were out of town on one of their trips with their business partners, the harringtons, and the thought of you alone in that big house didn’t sit right with him. you two weren’t really dating, but you weren’t necessarily friends either.
no matter what you were, you didn’t know that three hours later eddie would be throwing off his shirt as you grinded against his lap. “fuck, y/n,” eddie sighed in pure pleasure, using his hands to push your hips down further.
you were so horny right now, and it was probably because you hadn’t had sex in a while due to steve never having free time. you would probably fuck just about anything with a dick or honestly a pussy too right about now. you hear a faint whine leave eddie’s throat as you dig your nails into his shoulders causing you to make eye contact with him.
the whine ignited something in your core, and an idea came to mind. steve was always the dominant one when you guys would hook up, and you’d always found yourself wondering what it would be like to flip the roles. did you ever think you’d be able to dominate eddie munson before this moment? no. but the way he was desperately grinding against your core and the breathy whines leaving his throat as he reached under your shirt was changing your mind. now, you just had to make eddie go along with it.
“does that feel so good?” you coo, ignoring trying to chase your own pleasure to instead gauge his reactions. eddie looks at you, his pupils blown wide with lust as a loud mix of a groan and a whine leaves his lips.
he closes his eyes, biting his lip as he absorbed the feeling of you grinding on him. “yes, fuck y/n,” he responds breathily. he then grabs the hem of your shirt, deciding he wanted it off. but you had other ideas.
you slapped his hand off you, causing him to still as he thought maybe this was all a mistake. but before he could ask, you opened your mouth. “ah-ah eddie, only good boys get to do that,” you cooed seductively. eddie looks at you in shock, his jaw falling slack at your words and the rush of blood that shot straight to his dick.
“y-y/n…” he mumbled, watching you scoot back and completely climb off of him. he tried catching his breath on the edge of the bed, watching you sink to the floor between his knees.
you raised your eyebrows before slowly sliding your hands up his legs towards his crotch. “what? did i get you all worked up?” you ask, rubbing his thighs and watching his jeans strain even tighter.
“what are you-“ you brush your thumb over his length causing him to gasp. “what are you doing?” he asks, eyeing you cautiously. he was unbelievably turned on right now, and he didn’t know how to feel because he had never been the submissive one before. he’d never wanted it, at least he didn’t think so, but you were making it so desirable.
you smirk as the gears in his head turn while watching you closely. “i just wanna make you feel good, do you want to let me do that, eds?” you ask, leaning forward and beginning to tease his belt. eddie feels like once again the wind has been knocked out of him. “we can stop, if you’re uncomfortable of course,” you say, moving your hands back down closer to his knees to give him space.
“i- uh,” eddie stutters, looking at you sitting so pretty for him, but for once he wasn’t in charge. he didn’t know how to feel, because on one hand he felt embarrassed that you were seeing him like this… really the fact that he was even like this. but on the other hand, he was really turned on right now. you look at him comfortingly and continue rubbing calming circles above his knees. “no, i-i, we don’t need to- you, you don’t have to stop,” he manages to get out.
you look at him for a moment, wondering if he really was ready to give this side of himself to you. “are you sure?” you ask sincerely. “i can tell by the look on your face this is new to you, if it scares you we won’t do it this way or we won’t do it at all. so tell me, are you sure?” you explain. eddie runs your words through his head a couple times. if he were to give this part to anyone, it was going to be you. he trusted you wouldn’t judge him even though he didn’t trust how this was going to turn out for him. this was a whole new territory.
but eddie had always been curious and had always pushed boundaries to their limit. so, he nodded his head a couple times. “i’m gonna need you to use your words,” you say, wanting full confirmation from him. he knew in his head you were just being your normal sweet, considerate self but the way you said it went straight to his dick.
“i want this, y/n,” he said seriously. you smiled at that and then pushed yourself up to grab the back of his head and pull him in for a kiss. he moaned lightly into your mouth, resting his hands on your sides as you began sliding his belt out of the buckle. the kiss was sloppy, eddie trying to push as much tongue as possible because he liked the way you both tasted like beer. once his belt was undone, you stuck your fingers into the waistband of his jeans and popped the button, pulling the zipper down as you went.
eddie hummed in arousal as your fingers teased the happy trail that disappeared into his pants. “no underwear?” you gasp between kisses. he mumbles a no, not wanting your mouth to leave his. you run your fingers over his v-line as his hips raise up slightly and a whimper comes out of his mouth. he pulls away at the shock of him making such a noise. “can you help me take them off?” you ask, trying to not let him overthink. he hurriedly nods as your fingers hook into his belt loops and he lifts his hips up. you pull them towards you, watching hungrily as his cock is freed and stands tall waiting for you. you lick your lips as the jeans hit his mid thigh before standing. “take those off the rest of the way,” you say before walking to your dresser and grabbing a hair clip. eddie is quick to completely remove them and sit patiently waiting for you.
you smile as you walk back to him, fully clothed with your hair now pulled from your face. “what a good boy,” you tease him, watching his cock twitch. eddie stops letting doubts fill his mind, instead deciding to let his desire cloud his mind completely. he loved the way you were talking to him, and his cock was just begging for your attention.
as you sink back to your knees you study his cock. he was quite big, you guess about eight inches or so. like the rest of him, it wasn’t the girthiest but seemed like the perfect size for your mouth. it arched slightly to the right, and his tip was glistening with precum in the soft, warm light of your twinkle lights.
“i don’t think i’ve ever heard you this quiet,” you say in observance, leaning forward and grabbing the base of him in your hand.
he sucks in a breath, resisting the urge to thrust into your hand. “there’s a lot more than me being quiet about this situation that is weird,” eddie says, watching closely as you slowly begin stroking his cock.
“mm, do you not like it this way? you wish you were in control of me?” you ask, using your thumb to gather the small amount of precum and spread it around his head.
eddie grunts, loving the way you were so focused on his dick. “i-i don’t know,” eddie stumbles, and you know it’s true.
you hum and nod. “i think you’re gonna love it,” you say, causing eddie to look at you intrigued. “i think you like that i have control over you, that you’re so sensitive to my words, that you’d do anything in order for me to make you cum,” you continue. eddie shakily moans at your words, his head falling back for a moment.
“y/n,” he moans, lightly thrusting into your hand.
your hand leaves his cock completely making him whine and squirm slightly before looking at you with begging eyes. “i don’t want you to be quiet, i want to hear you, okay? are you gonna be a good boy for me eddie? or am i gonna need to start thinking of punishments?” you tease, using three fingers to massage his balls.
“fuck, no. no, i’ll be good, i’ll be so good,” eddie gasps.
you smile sinisterly at him before grabbing his base once more and leaning forward. you stick out your tongue, flattening it against the underside of his cock and licking all the way to his tip. he lets out a shaky breath and reaches out to grab the back of your head. “no, eddie, good boys don’t touch,” you tsk before spitting on his cock.
“i-i can’t touch you?” he stammers, not knowing how much he liked that. he was a very touchy person, especially with you even though you’d never been intimate before. every movie night, he’d have you tucked into his side before the ads were done. at the hellfire meetings he’d force you attend, you’d always be sitting on his lap with his arm loosely around your waist. he loved to touch you, and the fact that he couldn’t during a moment like this was frustrating.
you shake your head, using your hand to spread your spit around. “nope, not unless i say so. and right now, i don’t think you’ve proved you’re good enough to touch me,” you say.
eddie open and closes his mouth, wanting to fight it. “but-but-“ he’s cut off by a sharp slap to his thigh.
“eddie,” you say in warning, watching his eyes flicker from your eyes to his cock helplessly. “i thought you wanted to be good for me?” you say with a pout.
“i do,” he says desperately.
you narrow your gaze at him. “then listen. i said you can’t touch, so you can’t. do you want me to make you cum or not?” you ask in a threatening tone.
“yes,” he sighs, putting his hands behind him so he wouldn’t touch you. you smile at him, and waste no more time wrapping your lips around his cock. he lets out a moan, his head falling back as you suck in your cheeks. you use your hand to pump what you can’t fit comfortably in your mouth and use your tongue to press on the prominent vein on the underside of his dick. his hips start to lift off the bed, but you’re quick to slam them back down. a pathetic whine leaves his lips as his eyes screw shut.
you enjoy watching his face twist in pleasure at your actions through your lashes. you move your hand away, pushing him as far down your throat as you can until you gag. “y/n,” eddie whines, his eyes studying you. you pull off giving him a smile and then leaning up to him as your hand grabs him again.
“kiss me,” you say in front of him and he wastes no time attaching your lips. he moans into your mouth as he tastes his precum on your tongue. “you taste yourself, baby boy?” you hum as you slightly pull away. eddie whines in response, reaching forward to trap your lips in another kiss. “you love how you taste on my tongue huh? pathetic little boy,” you tease, pulling away from his face and settling back between his thighs. eddie whimpers, both from your words and the lack of your kiss. you reconnect your mouth to his cock, him whimpering again.
eddie falls back on your bed as you beginning bobbing your head up and down while also massaging his balls between your fingers. you hollow out your cheeks, slowly sucking up his dick towards his tip. the pressure making eddie’s legs spasm as he grabs your gray duvet. you pull off his cock with a pop and then begin placing kisses on his tip before kitten licking around it. “y/n please,” he whimpered, his grip ripping a small hole in your bed cover.
“awe, are you desperate, baby?” you tease, not giving him time to respond before deep throating him again.
“fuck,” he screams, his hips rolling involuntarily. you pick up your pace as a new idea pops into your head. oh was he going to hate you…
you keep massaging his balls and suck harder on his dick, hollowing your cheeks to make him go crazy. “y/n… fuck… i’m gonna, shit, i’m so close,” he cries out. you smile around his cock, keeping your pace. “fuck, don’t stop,” he groans, feeling his high coming. his breathing became rapid, his grip ripping your duvet further as strings of whimpers left his lips. his legs were tensing and you felt the telltale throbbing of his cock against your tongue.
“yes, please, shit, i'm cumming,” he moaned loudly. his vision was starting to go white on the edges, and he was right on the verge of falling off the brink of his orgasm into white hot bliss. he gasped in anticipation, precum pooling out of his cock, ready for his body to shake with pleasure when suddenly- you completely pull away.
“no!” he cries out, thrusting into nothing to try and get that final tip off the edge. he tries reaching for himself but you’re already there, holding his wrists together over his head.
you smirk, not expecting to get so aroused off seeing him struggle like this. “remember, baby, good little boys don’t touch,” you coo, using one hand to cup his cheek as you sat next to him on your bed. he grunts, tears of frustration pooling in his eyes as he shakes from the anticipation. he looks up at you and your smug face, and somehow he was still overwhelmingly turned on by you.
“i was- i was gonna cum,” he chokes out, looking at you pleadingly.
you feel a twinge of remorse in your chest so you move, repositioning yourself so you could pull his head into your lap. he closes his eyes, his hands shaking as a tear falls from his eye. “oh baby,” you coo, wiping away his tear. you stroke his hair as he takes deep breaths trying to come down from his almost orgasm. “i know you were so close, i know baby,” you say, tracing his jaw with your finger. “i was gonna let you cum, but i wanted to test you just a little bit. wanted to see how good you’d be for me…” you continue, his eyes now opening. “look at you,” you smile, bopping his nose with your finger. “my cute frustrated baby boy, seeing you like this gets me so wet.”
eddie watches you in amazement, so many things running through his head as you admire him. he never would have thought that you’d be like this, he also never would have thought he’d love you being like this. but shit, even after you denying him his orgasm, he was still obsessed and having the best sexual encounter of his life. “that was- not nice,” he hiccups to you, causing you to pout at how cute it was.
“i know, baby,” you say, pushing all his hair out of his face.
he studied you for a moment, feeling so jittery. “can i touch you now?” he asks quietly.
you smile down at him, nodding. “yeah, baby boy, you can touch me,” you coo. eddie immediately reaches for one of your hands and encloses it in his, holding it to the side of his face. he closes his eyes, taking in your minimal touch and nuzzling into it. “here, why don’t you sit up? go lean against the wall, it’ll be easier to hold you that way,” you say soothingly, squeezing his hand. he nods, slowly moving and going to lean against your wall. the coolness of your wall feels good against his hot skin as you take your shirt and pants off.
eddie eyes you suspiciously as you crawl back to him and place yourself on his lap, being careful to avoid his cock. “are you gonna let me cum tonight?” he asks sheepishly. you grab him by his shoulders, pulling him into you. he wraps his arms around your back and buries his face in your neck as one of your arms rests on the top of his back and the other plays with his hair.
“oh, baby, of course you’ll get to cum. i’m not that mean,” you coo, kissing the top of his head. he lets out a breath into your neck and hugs you tighter.
he places kisses to the crook of your neck lazily as he tries to regather his thoughts. “can i fuck you? please, mommy?” he begs into your neck. the name catches you off guard.
“mommy?” you question.
eddie stills before picking his head up and out of you neck to look in your eyes, his glimmering with fear. he didn’t even know he wanted to call you that, he didn’t even realize it came out of his mouth. “sorry, y/n, i don’t- i don’t even know where that came from,” he says, looking away from you.
you pick his head up with your pointer finger and place your lips on his. “say it again,” you mumble into the kiss. eddie’s eyes widen. you liked it?!
“i want to fuck you, mommy,” he says quietly, watching your smile widen. you pull him in for another kiss, your hands tangling in his hair as his roamed your back.
you pulled away, not wanting to wait too long after his first denied orgasm. “you can fuck me, just not yet,” you say, tugging on his hair causing him to whimper. “i want you to cum on my hand first, i wanna make you cum right here, just like this,” you say, looking into his eyes as your hand drops between you.
eddie shudders as your hand wraps around his softened cock. “just like this?” he mumbles, looking down at your hand, stroking him back to full hardness. you use your other hand to stroke his face, admiring how beautiful he was.
“mhm baby, but there’s rules,” you state. he looks at you in slight confusion but fully invested. “you can touch me this time, but i don’t want you to make noises. if you make too many, you won’t cum,” you say. his face drops.
“but- i thought you-,” he started, worry settling on his features.
you shook your head. “i changed my mind. no complaining or no cumming,” you say.
“but, i’m loud, mommy, please i don’t think i can-“ eddie whines, knowing damn well he wouldn’t be able to keep quiet. you stop stroking his cock.
“do you want to cum?” you ask sternly, eddie wastes no time nodding. “then do what i say,” you demand and eddie nods reluctantly. you bring your hand back down and begin stroking his cock again.
he chokes back a moan, trying so hard to abide by your rules. “good boy,” you hum, causing his eyes to roll back and shut in pleasure. you twist your wrist, listening to eddie’s labored breaths as you go.
a low guttural moan makes its way out of eddie’s lips once you start tugging which makes you halt. “watch it, eddie,” you say warningly and then continue.
“m’sorry mommy,” he mumbles, closing his eyes to focus on being quiet again. his head falls back against the wall, his hands limply holding your hips. you keep going, loving seeing how hard he struggles to be quiet. you reach your other hand down to massage his balls again unannounced. “fuckkk,” he whines, bucking into your hand.
“eddie,” you warn, and listen to him go back to heavy breathing. you begin going faster, but as you do eddie keeps letting out accidental moans. you stop abruptly, causing his eyes to snap open. “one more and you’re not cumming,” you say seriously, causing his lip to tremble. he nods to agree and you reach back down to grab his cock.
his head fell into your neck as he used one hand to muffle anything that may come out of his mouth as your assault on his cock started to build the tower of his orgasm. he wanted so badly to moan out your name, he needed to but he also needed to cum. he bit down on his lips as tears began leaking out of his eyes from pure frustration. he let out a whimper into his hand and prayed you didn’t hear.
but you did. so he wasn’t going to cum this time. but you didn’t want to let him know that yet, so you were just going to edge him once again. maybe you were a little sadistic….
eddie was shaking under you, you could feel his tears on your neck as he let out small moans and mewls into his hand that he didn’t even realize were coming out of his mouth. his cock was starting to throb and he was getting so close to cumming. his hand that was at first lazily rested on your hip was now gripping you viciously with his nails digging into your skin.
eddie could feel his orgasm right there. it was right in front of him and he was so ready for the release. his eyes screwed shut, and a bunch of short breathy whines left his lips as his whole body began to shake and tense. you felt kind of bad for what you were about to do, but you couldn’t resist. eddie was seeing stars behind his eyes as his mouth had fallen open behind his hand as he was ready to feel pure bliss. a small spurt of cum came out of his cock before he fully tipped over the edge, and that’s what made you pull away.
his eyes snapped open as he began to shake, almost wanting to throw up from being denied his release once again. “shit,” he cries, moving his hands to claw at your back as he buried himself in your breasts. “fuck… mommy, why?” he gasps before sobbing. his cock twitched rapidly between you, searching for any type of stimulation but you made sure to move back.
“shh, baby boy, shh,” you coo, holding him close. you feel his tears making your skin sticky and he sobs into your breasts. you rub his back, letting him calm down in more ways than one. when his breathing falls back into a normal rhythm you grab one of his arms, pulling it so you can intertwine your fingers together. you pull back, causing him to as well and you bring his hand to your lips, pressing kisses to his knuckles. “oh my poor little baby,” you say, stroking the hair that was stuck to his tears back. you pull him closer, placing soft kisses all over his face until his dick softens. “you see what happens when you don’t follow rules?” you ask carefully.
he nods, wiping his eyes and flexing his muscles so they stop spasming. “i’m gonna go grab you some water,” you say, kissing him tenderly before climbing off your bed and exiting your room.
“holy shit,” eddie breathes to himself once you walk out. he felt like a completely different person, but he was really enjoying this. as you were gone, you thought of other ways you could mess with him. because even though you felt a bit cruel, you were having a lot of fun.
you came back with a glass of water, handing it to eddie and making him drink it as you massaged his shoulders. “this is so fucked up,” eddie mumbles, setting the glass on your bed side table.
“you regret it?” you ask him.
he’s immediately shaking his head no. “i just want to cum,” he says and then turns to face you. “can i cum inside of you? please?” he asks, looking deep into your eyes eagerly.
you smile at him, but he picks up on the fact you have something hidden up your sleeve. “yeah, little pathetic baby boy can breed mommy if he wants someday,” you say causing eddie to grunt at your choice of words. “but, not right now,” you finish making him pout.
“please,” he whines, grabbing onto your wrists.
“do you want to cum, baby boy? for real this time?” you tease.
eddie nods. “yes, mommy, please let me cum,” he whimpers, so easily falling back into being so submissive. it makes you wetter.
“okay, you can,” you start. “but i’m not going to make you cum. you’ve gotta do it yourself,” you say watching his face fall.
“what? why?” he asks.
you shake your head, you weren’t done. “and i have rules,” you smile evilly. eddie looks at you cautiously. “you can’t use your hands, you can only use your hips,” you say.
“h-how? that’s not, y/n that’s not fair,” eddie says, dreading it. you smile, grabbing your pillow and setting it down in front of you. eddie looks between you and the pillow, hoping you’re not wanting him to do what he thinks you do.
you smile and motion to the pillow. “hump it, grind on the pillow until you cum like the pathetic little boy you are,” you say.
eddie shakes his head. “no, y/n, im not humping your pillow,” he says. that was embarrassing. you just shrug and reach for your lighter and pack of cigarettes.
“don’t cum then,” you say, pulling out a cigarette and placing it between your lips.
“but-“
“either grind on that pillow until you cum or sit there and wait to watch me get myself off in front of you. and no, you won’t get to cum. this is for not following your rules. bad boys don’t get to use mommy to cum,” you say, lighting the cigarette and inhaling.
eddie looks at you in contemplation. he really did want to cum. but humping a pillow like an inexperienced school girl would be down right humiliating. “you’re serious?” he asks, looking at your blue pillow that he knows you sleep on every night.
“dead,” you shrug, taking a drag of your cigarette. eddie looks between you and the pillow once again before sighing in defeat.
he pushes himself up in order to straddle the pillow. “we are never talking about this, ever. this is humiliating but i really need to cum,” eddie grumbles unhappily as he situates himself on the pillow. he looks to the side at you and sees you smile. “this the right view?” he asks sassily.
you hum, “the perfect one.”
eddie is nervous. he doesn’t even know how to start this because it’s so foreign to him. “what do i even do?” he asks helplessly, looking to you with a pouted lip.
“does the poor little baby need mommy to teach him how to grind on a pillow?” she teases, causing his dick to twitch.
he looks down before swallowing any pride he has left and looking up at the ceiling. “yes,” he admits.
you smile at his behavior and take another drag of your cigarette. “okay, first you need to completely lower yourself down. mhm, just like that baby,” you start, eddie following your instruction. “you might want to bend over, put your hands on the bed or hold the pillow for support,” you say and eddie does just that, readjusting. “good boy, now you’re just gonna drag your hips forward,” he does, a moan escaping his lips. “yep, and then backwards. uh huh you got it baby,” you say, putting your cigarette out and relaxing into your headboard.
you put you feet up closer to your bottom so your knees are up and start stroking your clit over your panties. you start with slow circles, watching eddie’s movements closely. “are you seriously getting off to this?” eddie asks breathlessly, looking over to see you rubbing your pussy.
“mhm, keep going baby,” you say, dismissing him and just watching him grind on the pillow. “you look so pathetic, your cock all red and worked up against a pillow,” you comment, slipping your hand into your panties and moaning as you feel how wet you are.
eddie whines, feeling his orgasm begin building up. he quickens the pace of his hips, chasing it as fast as he possibly can. he was so desperate to cum, you made him need it more than he ever had. he whimpered, watching you peel off your underwear and bra. he was finally seeing all of you for the first time and he couldn’t even touch you. instead he was humping your pillow trying so hard to cum. you stick two of your fingers into your entrance, letting out a moan as you watch eddie’s hips stutter. you knew his eyes were on you and that only turned you on even more.
eddie began his string of whines and moans, meaning he was close to his orgasm. he could feel his cock pulsing and the pull behind his naval was so strong. his vision began going white and he knew this time he’d finally be able to actually cum. “y/n,” he moaned out, furiously grinding your pillow as his end neared. he was at the top of the tower, and with one, two more thrusts he was falling. “yes, fuck,” he gasped, rutting into the pillow as he lost his vision. his whole body shook as spurt after spurt of hot cum came out of his tip and painting your pillow and bed. he was trembling, barely rutting through the aftershocks and almost collapsing. you crawled over, pushing him off the pillow gently and onto his back, his eyes still closed and jaw still ajar.
you grabbed his cock, jerking him off more than just to get him through his orgasm which caused him to wince. he was still hard, so you climbed up on top of him and guided his cock into your dripping cunt. he shuddered as you sunk down on his super sensitive cock.
“y/n,” he whines in a drunken way as you bounce on him.
“shh, let mommy use you,” you say, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “can you open your eyes?” you ask. eddie peels his eyes open, looking right at you. “hi pretty boy,” you coo, bending down to capture his lips in a sweet kiss.
“mommy,” he mumbles into it, bringing his shaky hands up to cup your face.
“did you finally get to cum?” you hum into his mouth and he nods, mumbling a confirmation. “yeah, such a good boy. now i get to use you to cum, is that okay?” you ask.
“yes,” he mumbles, his hands moving down to your hips. you begin rocking your hips, moaning as his cock hits deep inside you. you weren’t too far from your orgasm, but it wasn’t going to come super quick. eddie on the other hand, was getting close again. “i-i think, i think i'm going to cum again,” he says, trying not to sound ridiculous but he knew he did.
you moan at that. “that’s okay baby, you can cum in me if you want, you gonna do that?” you groan. eddie whimpers as he feels the familiar tug in his abdomen. your hands are planted firmly on his chest as you maneuver yourself so his cock hits the right spot each time. he doesn’t give a warning besides his string of whines before strings of cum are hitting deep inside you.
it makes you moan, and really start going for your own orgasm. you knew eddie was too fucked out to help you reach it so you reached your own hand down to your clit. tears of overstimulation leak from eddie’s eyes as you fuck him past his second orgasm but he wouldn’t dare tell you to stop. his vision was blurry and not just because of tears. he was limp, barely able to hold your hips.
he lets his hands drop to your things, instead trying to massage them slightly as you bounced on his dick. he wanted to reach out and replace the hand on your clit, but he was struggling to even keep his eyes open. eddie was definitely aware of the tears running down his face and the pain he was feeling in his stomach at the buildup of yet another orgasm.
you began grinding down in between thrusts and furiously rubbing on your clit, feeling your high approaching. eddie was mumbling incoherently, bits of spit gathered around his mouth as his eyes rolled back in his head. his hips shot up and he began to tremble as his third orgasm ripped through him. you moaned loudly, the feeling of him cumming inside of you along with your built up pleasure and the assault on your clit made you topple over the edge. you gasped, a mix of your slick and eddie’s cum leaking out of your hole as you rode out your orgasm.
you fell forward against eddie’s chest as you let the both of you calm down. your hands remained on his chest as you gasped for air, while eddie managed to throw one of his arms around the small of your back. the two of you laid there together for what felt like forever, but was really about ten minutes.
you heard eddie wince beneath you and move his hips so you assisted him in pulling his soft cock from inside you. a gush of his cum and your juices came out right after, coating your inner thighs and eddie’s crotch area. “we should clean up,” you say, pushing yourself up a bit.
“in a minute,” eddie mumbles, pulling you back down on his chest. you take a deep breath, relaxing into him. you lay there until you physically cannot stand the feeling of feeling gross anymore.
you push yourself up, looking into eddie’s eyes. he was definitely still in a daze from his orgasms, but he had a big smile on his face. you smile back and lean down to press a slow, soft kiss to his lips which he reciprocates. “wanna take a shower?” you mumble, pulling from his lips.
he nods, pushing some of your fallen hair out of your face. “i feel so sticky,” he responds quietly. you laugh a little, but stand up and pull him with you. “woah, baby, i'm still a little woozy here,” he says, steadying himself.
“baby? hm haven’t heard you call me that yet tonight,” you snicker, poking him in the chest.
he rolls his eyes. “shut up. next time, the rolls will be reversed,” he says, kissing you softly.
“next time?” you question with a smile.
eddie just shakes his head at you. “let’s talk more when my cum isn’t running down your legs,” he states pointedly before leading you to your bathroom.
the two of you shower together making sure to really scrub off everything before getting a snack. you changed the top blankets of your bed quickly before the two of you settled into it, falling asleep fast completely entangled with one another.
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smoreobscurelore · 7 months
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Crowley is a character riddled with fear but motivated by love.
Crowley is a character who comes across as unbothered but in reality, he feels very deeply. His whole character revolves around themes of fear and love and how those play off of one another. There are examples of this in season one. Mostly through him being afraid of losing everything he loves on earth. And his plan to run away to Alpha Centauri. However, Crowley’s fear becomes much more apparent, and arguably greater, in season two. Pretty much every part of the plot causes, or is affected by, Crowley’s fears. 
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At the switcheroo, Azirpahle had some fun pretending to be Crowley, He gets Michael to miracle him a towel. Meanwhile, Crowley gets cast into hellfire and is thoroughly traumatised by the thought of watching the love of his life get permanently discorporated. Crowley was probably scared of Gabriel before, now, he is terrified. You see it when Crowley realised Gabriel is in the bookshop. He yells and backs up. He hasn’t had time to think of the consequences of Gabriel being there yet, that’s just his gut reaction to Gabriel in general. 
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When Crowley had his conversation with Beelzebub, he learns that Aziraphale is in danger of 'getting written out of the Book of Life’. As an audience, we know that it won’t happen but Crowley doesn’t know that. He thinks Azirphale, the angel he loves more than anything, is in danger of having never existed. That scares him more than anything - So much that he puts himself in the same danger by going back. Then, because they don’t communicate, Crowley keeps that to himself. He holds all that worry and fear on his shoulders on his own.
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Crowley is left in the bookshop with the guy that he's terrified of. He's scared the whole time that Azirphale is going to get found out. That HE is going to get found out. That Gabriel is going to smite him. That Gabriel is lying or will remember who he is. All the while, Azirphale has a great time driving up to Edinburgh. He gets to take the Bently out for a spin. He gets to play reporter. I don’t think that Crowley is carrying books around just to be helpful, I think he’s trying to do anything to keep his mind off all this rising anxiety in him.
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Even in the 1941 minisode, Crowley is subject to a great deal of anxiety. Sure Aziraphale is the one getting shot at but he has trust in Crowley that sees him through. Crowley doesn't have that trust in himself. He's terrified of hurting Azirpahle. Crowley is physically shaking when he points the gun at Azirpahle. Despite having a gun aimed at his face, Azirpahale is the one comforting Crowley.
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At the party, Crowley is the only one concerned about the demons while Aziraphale is getting carried away throwing a ball. Crowley’s left to be scared on his own again because no one else is taking any notice of what’s happening. Crowley's too concerned to even enjoy being with Aziraphale and dancing because he’s so worried. He’s scared they’re going to find Gabriel (and all the anxiety surrounding himself and Azirphale's demise that goes along with that) but now he’s also scared of all these innocent people getting hurt because of it too. 
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In the end, he's scared of loosing Aziraphale. He loves Earth and everything it has. But equally, he loves sharing that with Azirpahale. Azirphale makes him less lonely. He spent 6000 years with the only other person in existence who understands what it's like to 'go along with heaven/hell as much as they can' and then suddenly he's left alone again. Even if they've not always been physically together, they were never alone when the other one was around. As much as he loves saving Aziraphale, Aziraphale is also there for Crowley. Now, There's no one watching his back anymore. He's alone, vulnerable and without someone he loves. What could be scarier?
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Crowley is a demon who loves. And that is terrifying. It both gives him so much to gain and so much to lose in the same breath. 
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chamyl · 9 months
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What Aziraphale says / what Crowley hears
An analysis of that scene from Good Omens 2. Because the amount of times Aziraphale says one thing when he means another is astounding, as is how perfectly he and Crowley misunderstand each other.
Obviously, SPOILERS all over the place.
Let’s pick it up from the chat with the Metatron. He’s talking about his big projects, blah blah blah, and how he needs someone to run them and Aziraphale's the perfect angel for the job, and Aziraphale's first reply is:
 A: "I don't want to go back to Heaven. Where would I get my coffee?"
Meaning: I'm not ready to give up what I can have here on Earth, i.e. Crowley. Metatron, unlike Crowley, hears perfectly well what Aziraphale means, not what he says, because he replies offering him to bring Crowley along.
 Flashback ends, we switch back to the bookshop.
C: "He said what?"
Crowley is immediately offended at the mere suggestion. Heaven sucks and he's learned he's lesson, he's never going back.
Aziraphale doesn't notice the anger in his voice, too caught up in his dream of ruling Heaven with Crowley by his side and doing all the good he can for humanity. After having to sit by and watch awful things happen to good people for 6000 years, this is his Ultimate Dream™. He can change things AND he gets to keep Crowley.
(Of course we know Heaven's not going to give him so much freedom, but he wants this so much it makes him oblivious to the possibility he's being fooled.)
 A: "Everything like the old times! Only, even nicer."
Meaning: we can be safe, no Book of Life or other punishments hanging over our heads, and I can make Heaven, finally, what it was always supposed to be: a good place. A good place for you, Crowley, too.
 C: "Right. And you told him just where he could stick it, then?"
Crowley's too angry to tackle this gently. We watch Aziraphale's face fall.
 A: "Not at all."
 C: "Oh we're better than that, you're better than that, Angel!"
Meaning: how could you possibly believe this bullshit? After all that we've been through?
 C: "You don't need them. I certainly don't need them! Look, they asked me back to Hell I said I'm not gonna be joining their team. Neither should you."
For Crowley, Heaven and Hell are the same thing, just a different colour. He can't understand why Aziraphale wouldn't say no immediately.
 A: "But... well, obviously you said no to Hell, you're the bad guys."
Meaning: Hell was never supposed to be a good place. It was always supposed to be a group of demons making the humans' lives harder. How would you make the world better by working with hell? Of course you said no.
 A: "But Heaven... well it's the side of truth, of light, of good."
 C: "When Heaven ends life here on Earth, it'll be just as dead as if Hell ended it. Tell me you said no."
Here they move away from the actual problem, which is Aziraphale's delusional thoughts in regards to the potential for change in Heaven, to talk about the two of them instead.
He already knows Aziraphale didn't say no. He's asking him to change his mind and stay on Earth, which he will continue to do throughout the rest of this exchange.
 C: "Tell me you said no."
Again, tell me you'll change your mind. Tell me you'll stay here, with me.
 A: "If I'm in charge, I can make a difference."
 This is where it sinks in for Crowley that he's really about to lose Aziraphale. He panics and throws out his confession.
C: "Oh, God[1]. Right, okay. Right. I didn't get a chance to say what I was going to say I think I better say it now. Right, okay, yes, so... We've known each other a long time."
 Aziraphale is totally confused and has no idea where this conversation is going.
 C: "We've been on this planet for a long time. I mean, you and me. I could always rely on you. You could always rely on me. We're a team. A group. A group of the two of us."
 Now Aziraphale realises what's happening. At the worst possible time, Crowley is bringing up all the things they haven't talked about openly in 6000 years.
 C: "And we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't. I mean, the last few years, not really. And I would like to spend--"
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Crowley swallows it back because he can't bring himself to say 'I would like to spend the rest of our existence together'. It's too much, it’s too big.
 C: "I mean, if Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, go off together, then we can."
And there it is, clear as day, the confession. Gabriel and Beelzebub weren't friends, they very clearly had a romantic relationship, and Aziraphale looks absolutely SHOCKED by how explicit Crowley is being.
 C: "Just the two of us. We don't need Heaven, we don't need Hell. They're toxic."
Aziraphale shakes his head. He can't accept that Crowley would put Heaven and Hell on the same level.
 C: "We need to get away from them, just be an us. You and me, what do you say?"
Just like before Aziraphale wasn’t registering Crowley's anger, now Crowley doesn't pick up on Aziraphale's headshake, his shocked expression. He asks him what he thinks.
 A: "Come with me... to Heaven. I'll run it, you can be my second in command. We can make a difference."
This is so painful because they both want the same thing. To be together. But Aziraphale can't ignore the fact that he's just been given the chance to do so much good for everyone, and keeps pressing his point.
 C: "You can't leave this bookshop."
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[gif source]
Crowley's not talking about the bookshop. He's brought up leaving for Alpha Centaury just a little while ago, a dream he still clings to. What he means is, you can't leave a place where you're safe and independent.
This is not what Aziraphale hears. He thinks Crowley is talking, literally, about the bookshop. That's why he says...
  A: "Oh, Crowley. Nothing lasts forever."
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Meaning: I'm willing to sacrifice the bookshop to work towards the Greater Good. Even though it pains me.
What Crowley hears: it’s our relationship that was never meant to last forever. All things end, we're breaking up. And in fact his reaction is to put his sunglasses back on, defences back up, and say:
 C: "No. I don't suppose it does."
 Aziraphale misses the walls coming back up and smiles for a split second, thinking Crowley is agreeing with him. So he's shocked when Crowley says...
 C: "Good luck."
And starts to leave.
 A: "Good luck?! Cro--Crowley! Crowley come back! To Heaven! Work with me! We can be together! Angels... doing good!"
Aziraphale breaks down completely now. His dream is crumbling, not only Crowley won't join him, but Crowley is abandoning him altogether.
 A: "I... I need you!"
He cries out, desperately. Then he gets angry.
 A: "I don't think you understand what I'm offering you."
Safety. A chance to be together, out in the open. A chance to do good, save the world from a second Apocalypse. Full status as angel restored. He can't understand why in the world Crowley wouldn't want these things? They can fix Heaven together!
 C: "I understand. I think I understand a whole lot better than you do."
Crowley knows Heaven is only going to exploit and manipulate Aziraphale. But he doesn't insist, it's not what he does. In all their fights, Crowley's always been the one to run away in the face of conflict, and he's by the door, ready to go.
 A: "Well... then there's nothing more to say."
Meaning: Are you really going to leave me?
 C: "Listen. Do you hear that?"
 A: "I don't hear anything."
 C: "That's the point. No nightingales."
Possibly because this is their own coded language, this is the one time what Crowley means and what Aziraphale hears line up. That the relationship between them is coming to an end. There are no nightingales like the ones in Berkeley square, singing for them after their post-Apocalypse date.
 But then it's Crowley's turn to break down. He wasn't fast enough running out of the bookshop, his emotions caught up with him. He’s thinking about that lunch at the Ritz and the nightingales. And after what Maggie and Nina told him, what he himself has learned about love, he makes a last desperate attempt at fixing things.
 C: "You idiot. We could have been... us."
He grabs Aziraphale, forcefully kissing him. Aziraphale is shocked, doesn't know what to do with his hands, first he flails then he puts a hand on Crowley's back, as if about to relax, but then starts flailing again as he remembers he can't do this: he has to go to Heaven. Work for the Greater Good. He can't return the kiss.
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He's basically sobbing when Crowley lets him go. Full-blown panic now, while Crowley watches him expectantly, hoping his last-resort strategy had some effect on his angel.
 But Aziraphale stutters and reaches for something to steady himself, some barrier to put up again between the two of them. Crowley is a demon, he's an angel. Crowley grabbed him and kissed him without asking first, Aziraphale is going to forgive him. There. Big red line between them.
 A: “I… I forgive you.”
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He seems to regret it the moment the words have left his mouth. But it's too late. Crowley knows that the kiss didn't work, that there's nothing left to do now.
 C: "Don't bother."
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And he leaves. Almost runs.
 Aziraphale is shaking all over. He presses his fingers to his mouth pretty hard, trying to replicate the feeling to process what just happened.
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The Metatron was of course right outside, looking in, probably saw the whole thing going down. He takes advantage of the moment where Aziraphale is at his most vulnerable to press him to go, downplays their fight ("Always wanted to go his own way") makes disparaging comments about Crowley ("Damn fool questions too"), knocks down Aziraphale's excuses by entrusting the bookshop to Muriel.
 Aziraphale is torn, but after all, what else can he do? In his mind, Crowley abandoned him when he'd finally found somewhere safe for them to be together. And Aziraphale spit out that horrible 'I forgive you'. Even if he stayed now, he'd be all alone. And in Heaven, he gets a chance to do Good with a capital G.
 The Metatron tells him about very important plans to 'wrap things up'. Aziraphale looks back at Crowley, who’s standing by the Bentley, watching him.
But the Second Coming bomb the Metatron just dropped solidifies Aziraphale’s choice. Now more than ever he has to go up and do all he can. He steps into the elevator.
Crowley, completely alone now, looks at Nina and Maggie, each in their own shop, not together.
 And then both Aziraphale and Crowley do what they always do to deal with difficulties: Crowley drives away, probably to nowhere, just letting the car go, and Aziraphale swallows everything down and tries to put back on his polite, calm, jovial mask. He'll be damned if he'll not try his hardest to be the perfect angel for this job. He’s sacrificed too much.
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[1] I don’t know that it’s a good idea to call on her right now, C.
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sirfrogsworth · 5 months
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The Pretty Average Trump Trauma
I really picked the wrong week to have a controversial post go viral.
The appeal deadline for my disability case is very soon and we just recently got the last of the medical records. My lawyer can get very busy and hard to reach. And I have been freaking out trying to get a hold of him to make sure everything is ready to be submitted. Thankfully he just emailed and said everything is on track and will be sent in for the appeal.
But having this weighing on me behind the scenes while also dealing with the blowback from my "vote for Biden" post caused me to enter into some unhealthy arguments and lose my temper on several occasions.
I didn't actually think about what would happen if that post went viral. Sometimes I write things and a hundred people see it, and it serves as a catharsis because I was able to get my thoughts and fears out of my brain.
And sometimes it gets reblogged 6000 times and I can forget I have a platform where that happens from time to time.
I wish I had written a better initial post. I think my thoughts in subsequent posts, along with the inclusion of what I think is a better strategy, would have gone a long way to help people understand my point of view. Looking back, that original post feels incomplete.
The post that ended up going viral was not inspired by reason or logic and it was never really meant to convince anyone of anything.
I thought I was preaching to the choir.
It was a representation of my fears. It was the result of two years of panic and trauma from the pandemic which ended in my mother's horrible death.
Let me explain...
On November 9th, Shaun, a YouTuber I respect, posted this.
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And it scared the hell out of me.
A very popular leftist with a huge platform wrote this to 5 million people and I freaked out.
Shaun wasn't necessarily saying not to vote for Biden at the time. But he thinks people should all say they won't vote for him unless he calls for a ceasefire. I get the strategy. But I feared that nuance would be lost on many people and they would only see it as "don't vote for Biden... no matter what." Which was an accurate prediction on my part. The guy from Eve 6 has been going nuance-free for weeks now.
The one thing I greatly disagree with Shaun about is this...
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Before the pandemic, I might have understood his argument. For the first two years, Trump was mostly an ineffectual goof. He had trouble getting a lot of his worst ideas to manifest. Most of the border wall he built ended up being repairs of existing barriers. And Obama droned civilians and kept kids in cages too—though Trump kept them in cages indefinitely and made up a rule that we can't actually know how many civilians he was droning.
So, a lot of the same, but turned up to 11.
But nothing about the pandemic response was pretty average.
There is something I have been choosing not to say during all of these discussions. I felt like saying it would be poor timing. I was worried people wouldn't actually agree with me. I worried it would make people think I was turning suffering into a competition. I didn't want to make it look like I valued certain lives over others. But then people accused me of all of that anyway. I was called evil and a collaborator and a supporter of genocide.
So I'm going to talk about it. Because the fact that few have mentioned it in these discussions has been bothering me. And the fact that the majority of society does not mention it makes me feel very alone in this belief.
I have long believed Trump and the majority of US conservatives committed a genocide of the disabled and elderly. I was never really comfortable calling it that word. I wasn't really sure how a genocide got classified as such. So I would just say things like, "40% of people who died during COVID should still be alive" and "Trump is responsible for hundreds of thousands of COVID deaths" and "Trump killed my mom" and hoping people would make the connection or at least see it as mass murder. I mean, this country judges everything by how many "9/11s" something is, but not the pandemic?
Donald Trump was the leader of the Republican party. When he refused to wear a mask due to vanity, his followers looked for something to excuse him. And I feel that directly birthed the "masks don't work" movement among conservatives. Donald Trump, having enormous influence among his acolytes, refused to correct this dangerous rhetoric. And he probably welcomed the cover so he could continue going maskless and not smear his makeup—even after he nearly died.
It is my belief this was the beginning of a genocide of apathy, deliberate and accidental incompetence, and non-compliance. And the reason for that non-compliance was not freedom as many claimed.
Conservatives did not like being inconvenienced.
They didn't like having to consider others.
And if competence requires effort and vigilance, they'd prefer doing the bare minimum.
Trump was famous for not filling vital administrative positions in the executive branch. Not only that, his turnover rate was 5 times higher than previous administrations. People were asked to do the job of several people because they didn't staff properly, and so those people quit. Thus creating a cycle of inexperienced new-hires that were out of their depth and asked to do much more than they bargained for. There is no way they could succeed in their jobs.
I think people forget that part of the role of the executive is the day-to-day boring administrative shit that is required to run a country. And when this day-to-day work isn't valued, it creates a crisis of incompetence. Which then creates things like not enough tests, not enough testing, Trump saying "if you don't test, it doesn't count", botched vaccine rollouts, rampant misinformation, poor education of the populace, and abysmal improvised press conferences where the President does a quick riff on injecting bleach.
This competence aspect is one of the hugest reliefs I had with the Biden administration. Not Biden. Not his policies. I'm talking about the regular workers getting shit done. This is the reason I am desperate to get my shit worked out with Social Security before the election. I once called Social Security during the pandemic and I literally got a recording saying to try calling back the next month.
Trump didn't care. People criticized him for not hiring people. He was aware of the problem. He just did nothing about it. And many conservatives praised him for "trimming the fat" or whatever. This idea that all of these government workers were useless burdens on the taxpayer fell apart during the pandemic.
There is incompetence caused by ignorance but it can also be a deliberate act. Trump was extraordinary in all forms of incompetence. He wasn't qualified to manage a pandemic. But he could have easily appointed experts and then gotten out of the way. But his narcissism would not let him cede power to anyone. He has always been convinced "only Trump can save you" and so his ego helped kill nearly half a million people.
Once the incompetence ball got rolling, that's when malicious apathy reared its ugly head. It was time to choose who they cared least about dying—who they felt was most useless. Conservatives decided it was time to devalue lives and start making sacrifices to save politicians' money laundering fronts small businesses.
Popular conservatives were going on TV and saying it was okay if Grandma died. It would be a worthy sacrifice to protect our freedoms.
The Lt. Governor of Texas, Dan Patrick, basically offered up the elderly for sacrifice all while claiming that he spoke for them and was also willing to die. Though I don't take his personal willingness very seriously, since he has the money and resources to get the best medical care and probably had no expectation he was in any danger.
“No one reached out to me and said, ‘As a senior citizen, are you willing to take a chance on your survival in exchange for keeping the America that all America loves for your children and grandchildren?’ But if they had? If that is the exchange, I’m all in. So my message is let’s get back to work. Those of us who are 70-plus, we’ll take care of ourselves.”
But you cannot just sacrifice the elderly. You may justify it by saying they have lived a long life, but many of the same health risks were shared by the disabled. Many of whom still had normal lifespans, but just needed extra care and protection.
There are countless elderly who cannot "take care of themselves" but they are still of value to our society. They are still loved. They watch and teach their grandchildren. They are the keepers of the family stories. They bake cookies and give you two dollar bills. They have random bowls of butterscotch all throughout their house.
But some need help. Some are sick. Some can't drive. Some can't walk. I guarantee not all of them were prepared to die for the cause.
And none deserved to die for a sports bar.
Oh, didn't I mention?
Dan Patrick owned a chain of sports bars that were losing money from the lockdowns. Did you really think he was sacrificing old folks "for the children"?
Thankfully Dan's sports bars are gonna be okay. He ended up receiving a $179,000 PPP loan... that was forgiven.
Then they started saying COVID deaths weren't COVID deaths.
"Well, they had a bad heart." "They were obese." "They had cancer."
They dropped the elderly excuse and began to openly devalue the disabled as well. If you were sick, what good were you? They considered us the next sacrifices for their convenience. If we wanted to survive, we shouldn't have gotten sick. It didn't matter that we could survive for years or even have a normal lifespan as long as we were protected by our communities.
And then began the non-compliance.
Trump's followers ignored masks and lockdowns and eventually vaccines. They were unwilling to protect the vulnerable and so many of us just... died.
Again, 40% of the US COVID deaths could have been prevented. Hundreds of thousands of people should still be here. Malicious apathy, incompetence, and non-compliance were the direct cause of this genocide.
The United Nations Genocide Convention identified 5 acts that typically constitute genocide. Only one act is required and in the pandemic 3 of the 5 acts happened.
Killing members of a group. Causing members of a group serious bodily harm. Imposing living conditions on that group that would destroy them.
I'm looking at that third one just now and realizing why we have advocates to remind us of vulnerable groups that need protection. I was thinking about how the elderly and disabled were trapped in hyper-contagious nursing homes and care facilities, but I completely forgot about prisons and the concentration camps at the borders.
I am not trying to diminish the awful things happening in Palestine right now. This is not a comparison of suffering—but a reminder. When a current terrible thing is happening, it can be hard to focus on anything else. But I do wish more people recognized what happened as a genocide and that the leader of that genocide, the one with the power to stop it, was Donald Trump. If we are going to base this voting decision entirely on acts of genocide, why is this not part of the consideration?
It is an awful moral calculus we have to figure out. One president is supporting and asking for funding for a genocide and I feel the other was the direct cause of another genocide. That's why I said both choices sucked. And the only way I could resolve this moral calculation was by asking what path would cause the least harm for everyone involved.
And the most disappointing aspect of all of these debates was the ableism. People told me if Trump was elected and I lost my benefits I should grow my own food and learn about medicine. They said I valued disabled lives above those in Gaza. They told me to imagine myself in Nazi Germany as a collaborator despite the fact I would have been euthanized.
But I felt like they weren't considering the disabled at all.
I am a disability advocate. So of course I am going to remind people to consider us in their voting decisions. But I'm tired of hearing I value lives differently just because I speak on behalf of a vulnerable group more often. I'm tired of continually having to justify my existence. And I'm tired of people dismissing the very real trauma caused by Trump.
It was not pretty average.
I'd like to tell you the full story of my mother's passing. All of the details. Even the ones I can't bear to type. But this isn't just my story. This is the story of countless others who had to watch their loved ones slowly die behind glass or over the phone or on an iPad.
I spent two years in constant anxiety trying to protect my two very sick parents. It was always assumed that my father was the most at risk. And that he was probably going to die long before my mother. But she had started a treatment for her psoriatic arthritis that turned the volume down on her immune system. Something that would normally not be a huge risk... but a pandemic changed that. A vaccine needs a functioning immune system to protect someone.
She could either accept the agony of stopping treatment or risk getting COVID. If people would have been willing to protect her, it would have been an easier choice. And she would still be around today. And I wouldn't have to worry about being homeless right now.
I don't know for sure when she was infected. I kept her inside as much as possible. But she needed those treatments and we had to pile into a crowded waiting room every time. And I remember a man in his fifties who seemed preoccupied with having to wear a mask. And when he thought no one was looking, he'd pull it down below his nose. A few days later she was being taken away in an ambulance.
A few weeks before my mother died, she called me on the phone. She was heavily medicated and they had two different breathing devices assisting her. The nurse was holding the phone up to her ear and she was trying to speak over the volume of the air rushing into her face from the masks. I could not hear her no matter how loud she yelled. So she asked the nurse to take the masks off for just a second so we could talk.
Her only concern was for my father. We all contracted COVID and she was so worried he would end up just like her. Thankfully the vaccine worked for him and he was okay at that moment. But she kept yelling, "Is Dad okay? Is Dad okay?" And I kept trying to tell her he was fine, but she was hard of hearing and the phone could not be held very close to her ear.
Unfortunately, the yelling made it harder and harder for her to breathe. She started gasping for air. The nurse kept insisting she put the breathing equipment back on, but my mom refused. "I want to talk to my son! I need to talk to my son!"
I knew there wasn't much we could do to communicate. And so I kept trying to yell "I love you, Mom. Everyone is fine. I love you!" I then asked the nurse to tell her that. And when she finally understood what I was saying, she burst into tears.
Her oxygen levels were getting dangerously low and she was fighting the nurse. And she just yelled out, "I'm so scared! I think I'm going to die! Tell Dad I'm sorry I can't take care of him! I don't want to die!" She kept repeating that over and over. The nurse had no choice and had to put the masks back on. My mom screamed and shouted "No! Please no! That's my son!"
And those were the last words I ever heard from my mother.
Gasping for air. Scared of dying. Worried about her family.
This moment has intrusively popped into my brain on a regular basis since it happened. It happens when I'm awake. It happens in my dreams. I have no control over it. I just have to keep experiencing it like it is happening for the first time.
After I saw that tweet from Shaun and then many others expressing the same thing (without the strategic aspect), my dread and trauma resurfaced with a vengeance. I've been reliving my mom's final words in my dreams. That moment keeps popping into my head. I feared the man I feel is most responsible for my mother's death may regain power and kill me and the last of the family I have left.
I keep asking myself the same questions over and over. What if there is another public health emergency? What happens to my trans friends if he turns the US into Florida and Texas? What will happen to the migrants at the border?
All I have is my two best friends. Katrina is gay and Delling is trans and disabled. All of us are vulnerable.
I wrote that post to help deal with the nightmares. Writing is part of my coping process. I didn't really expect it to go super viral. I just needed to get that out of my brain. But when people pushed back and started calling me evil and a collaborator and that I was valuing my life above those in Palestine, all with a huge heap of ableism, I found myself unable to let it go and not respond. I couldn't choose the healthy thing and step away.
While I feel I made some good arguments and put forth some solid ideas for other ways to handle this, I also got angry and lost my temper and stayed in arguments for way too long—all to my mental detriment.
My little world felt like it was collapsing and the world at large also felt like it was collapsing. I had personal horrors in my mind mixing with the horrors of this global conflict.
It was too much.
I don't regret what I posted. Many felt the same as I do. And I think my subsequent posts did a good job of expanding on my thoughts while also offering hope for alternate solutions.
But I do regret the timing and I wish I hadn't lost my temper. Especially in a reply I left with a lot of cussing.
People might disagree but I am hoping that people can understand the fear and trauma that influences my point of view.
I am actually willing to risk quite a lot to protect other people. Even people in faraway lands I don't know.
But I refuse to offer up the vulnerable to be sacrificed if it won't actually help anyone. That's what a Texas Lt. Governor would do.
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relatableblorbopoll · 5 months
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Round 1 of preliminaries, group 6
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The first two places get a place on the bracket
Little reminder: there will be 2 more rounds of preliminaries, the losing blorbos of this poll still have 2 chances of getting in the official bracket
propaganda under the cut
Jesper Fahey (Six of Crows)
No Propaganda
Crowley (Good Omens)
"He's gender. He's been in love with one guy for literally 6000 years and then royally fucks up his entire confession. He yells at his plants. He drapes himself over every fucking surface he sits on. He walks like *that*. He just fuckin makes sounds sometimes. He's me fr."
Dave Strider (Homestuck)
"everything that can be said about Dave's relatability will probably sound redundant, clichéd, or overdone if you are at all familiar with tumblrs sort of blorbo culture. this is exactly why he should be in this tournament.
stop me if you think that you've heard this one before: he hides his genuine emotions behind a persona, deflects sincerity with jokes, but also has a deep desire for validation and connection, so that his persona has many cracks where little bits of his true self slip through. deeply insecure, compares himself to others. a defeatist streak, avoids responsibility. does not wish to be troubled by The Horrors. he just wants to hang out and do his lil creative hobbies (making music and drawing comics). talks a lot to the point of being pretty awkward, rambling, and accidentally saying stuff he shouldnt.
all these things I think tend to resonate deeply with a lot of people, especially on Tumblr - that "person who is insecure and struggles with emotional openness so copes by making jokes" sort of trope, it's just like kin bait (affectionate). he also has a complicated relationship with gender which I know many find relatable (shout out to the "Dave homestuck was my trans awakening" homies) but whether it's about figuring out gender or sexuality or trauma or the apocalypse or anything else, Dave comes at it with an initial, learned, fear and reluctance that I think a lot of people have experienced, because it's very human and very much a part of many readers experiences (we live in a society). but he's always good, and likeable and that makes for a very important sort of relatable character. very comforting. even if he's a mess and he's an idiot you can believe he can get to something better, and you can watch him develop and grow.
also, I think he's extremely relatable because he never really knows what's going on in the comic either. I mean, that's gonna be relatable to most people Vis a vis homestuck. he's confused and he just wants to vibe and make his friends laugh. WHO AMONG US cannot relate?? I do not believe you if you say no.
I wrote too much and got way too weird about it. I'm sorry it's late I'd edit down but I really don't have the brain capacity.. which is very Dave core of me actually"
Junior (Total Drama Presents: The Ridonculous Race)
"i relate to him a lot because his whole character is being embarrassed of his dad who tries too hard to be cool, but still loves him anyways. that is literally me"
Kim Dokja (Omnicient Reader's Viewpoint)
"kim dokja. oh kim dokja. so, without going into spoilers too much, kim dokja is very much a character you are expected to relate to and it makes the novel DEVASTATING. here's just a few things about him: - he is obsessed with a particular piece of media, and finds comfort in it when real life doesn't give him any. he's constantly thinking about it and defending it and trying to recommend it to other people (even though no one else bothers reading it, because it is an objectively bad 3000-chapter webnovel). even beyond that one novel, he's been using fiction as an escape for just about his entire life, something that rings true for a lot of people, especially in the modern world. - he struggles with socializing with other people. the first chapter alone gave me so much second hand embarrassment. it's so real but god it's So bad. he has zero friends and has that sort of loneliness where you're miserable but you can't really bring yourself to feel anything but resigned to it. in general he is just very Resigned to his unfortunate life and can't fully understand or accept it when it finally does get better - he has a complicated relationship with his mother. it's the kind of relationship where the parent genuinely does love their child, but they fail to give them what they need & have to accept that they hurt their kid and that they cannot be the most important person in their life. it's certainly not a universal experience but those sorts of parent-child relationships are woefully common but scarcely acknowledged -the insecurity. god there is so much insecurity in that man. it's hard to even completely tell it's there at first, because it's so ingrained in how he thinks that you don't question it until you know more about his character and suddenly it's all too apparent. he cannot believe that he can be loved (or, if that he can be, that they certainly would not be able to love all of him, only what he chooses to show them), and is selfless but like. the literal meaning of the word, where he will throw away all of his being for the people he loves. in general there is a lot of sacrifice as a love language which like. while i'm not off around throwing myself in front of magic death beams for people or anything i sure would give up everything i could if it meant helping the people i love - ok enough of that. here's some funny things i can relate to. the guy meets his favorite fictional blorbo and instead of worshipping him instead he bullies him constantly and internally complains about how unbearable he is both in the book and in real life. it's like a "i love my blorbo. i would not last 2 seconds in a room with him." You know. he gets so caught up in his fanon characterizations and biases about characters that he completely mischaracterizes them like constantly. he literally kills a guy half because he was his least favorite character. -this is a poll about blorbo relatability. therefore i must mention that kim dokja too related to his blorbo (or at least attempted to) and what is more relatable than that. anyways. kdj made me realize far too much about myself and is by far the most i have ever related to a character (and i Hate it). and tumblr would definitely relate to him too so :thumbs-up:"
"(SPOILERS) He is literally all of us. Reader. Just some guy. And then insane tragic backstory. But he’s also just some guy. He’s special and also just a guy. He’s also god. He can be shipped w anyone. He has versatility and interests and motivations. He also never tells anyone anything ever. He is so me."
"He reads a trashy, long-ass novel as a coping mechanism and doesn't think he's capable of being loved. Bro dissociates when he's emoting too much."
"I'm a homestuck fan, a Dave Strider fan even Never heard of Omnicient Reader's before Voted for the kim fellow because judging by the propaganda it looks like he himself would be a homestuck reader therefore making him more relatable than the homsetuck character himself"
"This guy’s been my companion since I was 11, I’ve grown up with Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint and I think that’s pretty funny since he grew up with Ways of Survival (the 3149 chapter novel) and therefore I’m straight up mirroring him. I, too, scare everyone off by being too enthusiastic whenever the webnovel is brought up! His insecurities are severe but I do see myself in some parts of him (which is worrying but whatever.) He is absolutely The Guy Ever. Utterly pathetic wet cat of a man. I love him. He represents the crazy fandom tumblrina in all of us."
Donutella (Tokidoki)
"she's made of donuts basically like me at this point"
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thatlonelycactus · 3 months
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Okay, please don’t yell at me but:
As much as Aziraphale wanted to take the job in heaven to restore Crowley’s angelic status, I think some part of himself let him believe that Crowley would want to come back because he wanted to, well, he wanted to become an angel again. I think deep down in some, small part of his heart he knew how Crowley would react but he convinced himself that maybe it would be different. Maybe if Crowley could help him run it things would change. Maybe if they were in it together Crowley would be happy to follow the very thing he hated- the Great/ineffable/whatever the great plan 2.0 plan. Maybe Armageddon 2.0 could be prevented. Maybe they could be everything Aziraphale had ever dreamed they could be. Because yes I agree he wanted to go to Heaven because he wanted Crowley to be able to be as happy as we see him before the beginning. He lives in denial of the fact that after 6000 years, neither of them are the same- neither of them can be like the angels they were. Aziraphale let himself believe that maybe they could. He told himself that Crowley would be overjoyed to go back to the side that made it clear that they wanted nothing to do with him. That neither of them had changed since the very first breaths of a universe that both of them would love like their own child. That, if it came down to it they could deal with Armageddon if that’s what the Almighty really wanted.
Aziraphale lets himself believe little lies like this because he can’t just let go of 6000 years on earth just like that to return to a side that he has been undyingly loyal to since literally forever. Because Aziraphale loves being an angel almost- maybe even more so- than he loves Earth. Because Everyday (haha get it *starts crying*) since Armageddont some small voice in his head was telling him he wasn’t doing any good. He wasn’t doing the “right” thing. He had abandoned the side of light. He had abandoned the “good” guys. And maybe some part of him believed it. Some part of him when he was away from Crowley, maybe even whilst he was with Crowley, felt like he had failed the Almighty; the being who had given him purpose for eternity; that he was being selfish.
Perhaps that’s why he jumped when the Metatron told him he could have it all. Perhaps he let himself believe that Crowley would come with him- because Crowley would love to be back in heaven, right? He was so happy amongst the stars, right? He would come to be with him… right? He let himself believe this because he needed heaven- he desired to be what he once treasured- he could be more- do more. He could make it better.
Maybe the idea of being angels together was just as much as a distant hope to Aziraphale as the kiss and being their own side was to Crowley.
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tismrot · 7 months
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AZI’S ROLE IN CROWLEY’S FALL, more meta (guilt, angelic hierarchy, etc)
I saw a long meta post about Azi feeling responsible for Crowley falling (but Tumblr bugged and I can’t find it again) and I’m here to expand on that.
Yes - Azi feels guilty because he’s done so many worse, more indulgent things than Crowley ever did in Heaven. It’s likely that Crowley doesn’t even know exactly what he did - he hung out with the wrong people and asked questions, he says, but that sounds more speculative hindsight to me. He’s vague because he actually doesn’t know. I think it was simply his attitude; his refusal to mask his disappointments and opinions. While one question might have runneth his chalice over for the Metatron and God, he was always on his way to damnation.
Aziraphale knew this, since we know they knew of and cared for each other before Crowley’s Fall. The extent of their relationship is unknown, because Crowley seems to have some soap opera amnesia, just like Jim - to be fair, trauma can do this to you. Make you not remember your ‘childhood’.
The thing is, Aziraphale can get away with everything Crowley couldn’t because FIRST of all, Crowley was the archangel Raphael. He was up there with Gabriel and Michael. One sassy question from him and all of Heaven might crumble. Aziraphale, on the other hand, is just a principality, an angel tasked with suggesting humans - predominantly prophets - do good/God’s will (literally, look it up). The lowest order. In office terms, Crowley is the bosses’ favorite creative director, while Aziraphale is a street salesman trying to make you subscribe to some shitty phone plan. It doesn’t really matter if Aziraphale asks questions because nobody cares what he thinks anyways. He is only allowed miracles that help him sell phone plans, metaphorically. Raphael’s miracles create galaxies, literally.
SECOND of all, neither the Metatron nor God are omnipresent or omniscient. Not even in Heaven, but certainly not on Earth. We saw the spy photos of Azi and Crowley throughout time. They don’t have any clue about Earth and rely on the same type of intel the spies on the benches in London send their respective governments. Most, if not all of Aziraphale’s transgressions happen on Earth. Heaven doesn’t really know Aziraphale does anything worse than eating sushi and occasionally bumping into a dude who they later, after the not-apocalypse, learn is Crowley. Remember how Gabriel didn’t recognize Bildad? Yeah. The spy photos of Azi and Crowley throughout time was, to Heaven, pictures of Azi and *some guy*.
Why does Aziraphale, with his low rank and limited miracle abilities, feel guilty? For the same reason you felt guilty when the bullies bullied your friend and you just stood there. You couldn’t have stopped the bullying, you might have just gotten hurt yourself - but due to your own immaturity and fear, you did nothing. Aziraphale is always afraid of Falling, not just because of Hell or sulphur or damnation, but because Falling reminds him of his cowardice, and that if he had done the right and good thing and stood up to the bullies, him and Crowley could have been traumatized, but honest lovers for 6000 years. He HAS to fear Falling, because deep within him somewhere, if he doesn’t fear the Fall, he might WANT it too much, because it would allow him to be with Crowley.
EDIT: Crowley might enjoy watching Aziraphale indulge in earthly pleasures not just because of the whole “evil” temptation demon-thing OR because he’s desperately in love… He might also enjoy watching Aziraphale eat and drink because he knows Aziraphale can get away with it, and wants him to have good things? Maybe.
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WHO WOULDN’T FALL FOR BILDAD?
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