You Know It's The Putting The Glasses Back On That Really Breaks Me...

Y’know, sometimes you just want to fuck a TV. And you know who doesn’t ask questions? Tumblr. Tumblr fucks that TV with you.

thinking about Eddie’s dom voice being the same as his dramatic DM voice and Steve only finding out when he finally relents and joins a session. Also thinking about Eddie & Steve who haven’t yet met in person or seen each other’s faces but have been talking (and more) on the phone for weeks. Steve is picking Dustin up from a DnD session that’s run late -

Usually he would wait in the car, but tonight seems to be taking especially long, and Eddie, very unusually, hasn’t messaged him back for 2 hours now, so it’s either go in early or practice the breathing exercises Robin gets him to do when his anxiety flares up. He decides to go in early.

The lights are dimmed in the cafe, and the front door regretfully informs him that ‘sorry, we’re closed,’ but the door isn’t locked, and he can hear sounds of life spilling from the back of the building. The delighted yells of his pseudo-little brother and the rest of the party drown out the cafe’s entry bell. He follows the sounds of outraged yelling to the back of the room where the party & a couple of guys Steve doesn’t recognise are huddled around 3 tables pushed together. There’s a guy sitting at the head of the table, hunched forward, wild hair falling into his face as he gestures to the group. He’s pretty, Steve thinks idly, if a little dramatic. He’s perched atop a fucking throne and Steve is just about to roll his eyes when the man speaks in a low, gravelly tone. The one Steve has been hearing in every phone call, every dream, every fantasy he’s had for the past 7 weeks. The one that hooks straight into his gut and pulls.

Steve’s vaguely aware that somewhere his eyes have widened, and his mouth has parted into a soft ‘oh,’ and his body has frozen where he left it. He is also aware, far more saliently, of the quiet static in his bones, white noise rippling calmly in his brain, his overwhelming need to be good. Steve isn’t sure how long his body stands stationary, his consciousness floating 3 feet to the left, before the DnD group slowly turn to look back at him. Steve feels the guy at the head of the table’s stare the most, intense, almost-black eyes boring straight through to the core of him, trapping Steve in his gaze, a butterfly pinned under glass. The guy raises one unimpressed eyebrow, clears his throat, and Steve braces himself to hear the voice that’s roamed the passages of his mind every day for the past 7 weeks.

‘Hey, uh, did you miss the ‘closed’ sign on your way in, buddy?’ The guy, although Steve thinks he may as well reconcile this mystery man with his Eddie, drawls at him, almost bored sounding. The higher pitched, borderline nasal quality his voice has resumed helps force Steve back inside his own body with a jolt.

‘I’m here for little Dustin. My little brother. Dustin.’ Steve stammers, gesturing lamely to where Dustin has rested his head in his hands. A delightedly cruel grin stretches across the guy’s, Eddie’s face.

‘Well little Dustin, don’t want to keep your brother waiting,’ Eddie trills, his eyes roving lazily down Steve’s body before snapping back to the party. As he leans forward, steepling his fingers in front of his face, his voice takes on the deep, rumbling quality that Steve has come to be intimately familiar with, sending a flush to his cheeks and shiver through core of him. ‘And that, dear friends, is where we conclude our story for today.’

The table erupts into chaos, groans and protests flying, most of them aimed at Steve if Mike’s hissed ‘thanks a lot, Harrington’ is anything to go by. Steve shuffles his way to the front counter, shoulders nearly pinned to his ears, as he waits for the party to pack up and counts 5 things he can see, touch, smell, resolutely ignores what he can hear. Because there’s no way. There’s no way Dustin’s DM is Eddie, his Eddie, the man who’s been talking him to sleep for the best part of 2 months. The same Eddie who’s been coaxing him through the exploration of his submissive side. The same Eddie he’s supposed to be going on his first date with in, oh fuck, two days. The same Eddie he was just a stuttering, gormless, fool in front of. The same Eddie walking towards him now, nodding mildly at whatever Dustin is chattering away about, staring directly into Steve’s soul. Dustin doesn’t even slow as he passes Steve toward the exit, holding the door and gesturing towards the car expectantly. Steve fumbles with his keys, desperate leave and drive away from this cafe, maybe even the whole town, if only he weren’t held captive under Eddie’s stare.

‘See ya next time, Little Dustin,’ Eddie smirks, eyes never leaving Steve’s. Somewhere to Steve’s right Dustin grumbles in response as Eddie continues. ‘And Little Dustin’s not-so-little brother.’

‘Bye, Eddie.’ Steve’s voice comes out breathless, higher than he’s used to hearing from himself under normal circumstances. The shadow of a frown crosses Eddie’s features, a flash of recognition, thunder preceding lighting.

Eddie tilts his head in confusion, opens his mouth. ‘Ste-‘

Steve bolts.

it’s the hunger games renaissance so i just want to remind everyone that donald sutherland (who played president snow) was on a cia watchlist for anti-war activities. he fully understood the role and message of the books and in an interview literally said “he runs a totalitarian state, he’s an oligarch- we have them here” during an interview.

One thing I feel people miss about lord of the rings is that it’s sort of……….post-apocalyptic?

Like– the world already ended, a long time ago, and the characters are surrounded by the ruins of dead countries. They spend most of their time journeying through places that are either abandoned (Moria) soon to be abandoned (Rivendell/Lorien) or half-destroyed and falling into decay (Rohan/Gondor.) The villains are creatures that Used to be Human; I feel like Lotr’s orcs/ringwraiths have more in common with zombies than they do with DnD-style orcs, because they’re a state that “normal” people enter when they’re corrupted by a supernatural force.

Even the Shire is surrounded by ruins– the ruins of watchtowers, the ruins of the old Northern Kingdom, the ruined city near the Grey Havens. The people around there have an idiom “when the king comes back” that means the same thing as an idiom like “when pigs fly”–  “when a completely ridiculous improbable thing happens.” They’re so used to the disintegrated state of the world that the idea of a central government is fairy-tale-like and bizarre. They have their little mayors and thains; they don’t need anything else.

So yeah! I see people try to “modern-real-world- au” versions of Hobbiton by making it “a peaceful suburb” but to me, a modern au version of Hobbiton would be more like…….

You are a hobbit.

You don’t know much history, but you understand that there were Wars a long time ago that destroyed a great amount of life on earth.

You live in a little hole in the ground. You don’t know that long ago these holes used to be called “bunkers;” you decorate them with flowers.

When you want to say that something won’t happen, you’ll sarcastically say things “lol yeah SURE that will happen! And tomorrow pigs will fly, Parliament will come back into session, there will be a president in the White House, there will be a prime minister making speeches, and diplomats will intercede between all of them! ha! XD”

If you journey even a little outside of your home, you’ll find the ruins of old cities and skyscrapers. There are messages in the ruins that are written in languages you don’t speak. Human beings used to live here; they don’t anymore.

And you’re not supposed to leave the Shire because sometimes you’ll meet the things that used to be human, but aren’t anymore.

Awhile ago @ouidamforeman made this post:

This shot through my brain like a chain of firecrackers, so, without derailing the original post, I have some THOUGHTS to add about why this concept is not only hilarious (because it is), but also...

It. It kind of fucks. Severely.

And in a delightfully Pratchett-y way, I'd dare to suggest.

I'll explain:

As inferred above, both Crowley AND Aziraphale have canonical Biblical counterparts. Not by name, no, but by function.

Crowley, of course, is the serpent of Eden.

(note on the serpent of Eden: In Genesis 3:1-15, at least, the serpent is not identified as anything other than a serpent, albeit one that can talk. Later, it will be variously interpreted as a traitorous agent of Hell, as a demon, as a guise of Satan himself, etc. In Good Omens --as a slinky ginger who walks funny)

Lesser known, at least so far as I can tell, is the flaming sword. It, too, appears in Genesis 3, in the very last line:

"So he drove out the man; and placed at the east of the garden of Eden Cherubims, and a flaming sword which turned every way, to keep the way of the tree of life." --Genesis 3:24, KJV

Thanks to translation ambiguity, there is some debate concerning the nature of the flaming sword --is it a divine weapon given unto one of the Cherubim (if so, why only one)? Or is it an independent entity, which takes the form of a sword (as other angelic beings take the form of wheels and such)? For our purposes, I don't think the distinction matters. The guard at the gate of Eden, whether an angel wielding the sword or an angel who IS the sword, is Aziraphale.

(note on the flaming sword: in some traditions --Eastern Orthodox, for example-- it is held that upon Christ's death and resurrection, the flaming sword gave up it's post and vanished from Eden for good. By these sensibilities, the removal of the sword signifies the redemption and salvation of man.

...Put a pin in that. We're coming back to it.)

So, we have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword, introduced at the beginning and the end (ha) of the very same chapter of Genesis.

But here's the important bit, the bit that's not immediately obvious, the bit that nonetheless encapsulates one of the central themes, if not THE central theme, of Good Omens:

The Sword was never intended to guard Eden while Adam and Eve were still in it.

Do you understand?

The Sword's function was never to protect them. It doesn't even appear until after they've already fallen. No... it was to usher Adam and Eve from the garden, and then keep them out. It was a threat. It was a punishment.

The flaming sword was given to be used against them.

So. We have our pair. The Serpent and the Sword: the inception and the consequence of original sin, personified. They are the one-two punch that launches mankind from paradise, after Hell leads it to destruction and Heaven condemns it for being destroyed. Which is to say that despite being, supposedly, hereditary enemies on two different sides of a celestial cold war, they are actually unified by one purpose, one pivotal role to play in the Divine Plan: completely fucking humanity over.

That's how it's supposed to go. It is written.

...But, in Good Omens, they're not just the Serpent and the Sword.

They're Crowley and Aziraphale.

(author begins to go insane from emotion under the cut)

In Good Omens, humanity is handed it's salvation (pin!) scarcely half an hour after losing it. Instead of looming over God's empty garden, the sword protects a very sad, very scared and very pregnant girl. And no, not because a blameless martyr suffered and died for the privilege, either.

It was just that she'd had such a bad day. And there were vicious animals out there. And Aziraphale worried she would be cold.

...I need to impress upon you how much this is NOT just a matter of being careless with company property. With this one act of kindness, Aziraphale is undermining the whole entire POINT of the expulsion from Eden. God Herself confronts him about it, and he lies. To God.

And the Serpent--

(Crowley, that is, who wonders what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil anyway; who thinks that maybe he did a GOOD thing when he tempted Eve with the apple; who objects that God is over-reacting to a first offense; who knows what it is to fall but not what it is to be comforted after the fact...)

--just goes ahead and falls in love with him about it.

As for Crowley --I barely need to explain him, right? People have been making the 'didn't the serpent actually do us a solid?' argument for centuries. But if I'm going to quote one of them, it may as well be the one Neil Gaiman wrote ficlet about:

"If the account given in Genesis is really true, ought we not, after all, to thank this serpent? He was the first schoolmaster, the first advocate of learning, the first enemy of ignorance, the first to whisper in human ears the sacred word liberty, the creator of ambition, the author of modesty, of inquiry, of doubt, of investigation, of progress and of civilization." --Robert G. Ingersoll

The first to ask questions.

Even beyond flattering literary interpretation, we know that Crowley is, so often, discreetly running damage control on the machinations of Heaven and Hell. When he can get away with it. Occasionally, when he can't (1827).

And Aziraphale loves him for it, too. Loves him back.

And so this romance plays out over millennia, where they fall in love with each other but also the world, because of each other and because of the world. But it begins in Eden. Where, instead of acting as the first Earthly example of Divine/Diabolical collusion and callousness--

(other examples --the flood; the bet with Satan; the back channels; the exchange of Holy Water and Hellfire; and on and on...)

--they refuse. Without even necessarily knowing they're doing it, they just refuse. Refuse to trivialize human life, and refuse to hate each other.

To write a story about the Serpent and the Sword falling in love is to write a story about transgression.

Not just in the sense that they are a demon and an angel. That's part of it, yeah, but the greater part of it is that they are THIS demon and angel, in particular. From The Real Bible's Book of Genesis, in the chapter where man falls.

It's the sort of thing you write and laugh. And then you look at it. And you think. And then you frown, and you sit up a little straighter. And you think.

And then you write some more.

And what emerges hits you like a goddamn truck.

(...A lot of Pratchett reads that way. I believe Gaiman when he says Pratchett would have been happy with the romance, by the way. I really really do).

It's a story about transgression, about love as transgression. They break the rules by loving each other, by loving creation, and by rejecting the hatred and hypocrisy that would have triangulated them as a unified blow against humanity, before humanity had even really got started. And yeah, hell, it's a queer romance too, just to really drive the point home (oh, that!!! THAT!!!)

...I could spend a long time wildly gesturing at this and never be satisfied. Instead of watching me do that (I'll spare you), please look at this gif:

I love this shot so much.

Look at Eve and Crowley moving, at the same time in the same direction, towards their respective wielders of the flaming sword. Adam reaches out and takes her hand; Aziraphale reaches out and covers him with a wing.

You know what a shot like that establishes? Likeness. Commonality. Kinship.

"Our side" was never just Crowley and Aziraphale. Crowley says as much at the end of season 1 ("--all of us against all of them."). From the beginning, "our side" was Crowley, Aziraphale, and every human being on the planet. Lately that's around 8 billion, but once upon a time it was just two other people. Another couple. The primeval mother and father.

But Adam and Eve die, eventually. Humanity grows without them. It's Crowley and Aziraphale who remain, and who protect it. Who...oversee it's upbringing.

Godfathers. Sort of.

there's something about the way "francesca" represents lust yet is a song declares everlasting love and utmost devotion that stands the trial of time; the way "butchered tongue" represents violence but sounds so careful and fragile, and "unknown/nth" is his most defeated song dedicating to love...i do think unreal unearth is his best album yet, and most private one at that. like there are parts i'm not sure i'm supposed to listen to. self titled sounds so hopeful to wasteland, baby! feels like a promise to this. raucous, forlorn sound of hurt....to end it with first light...that all things end but we'll still have tomorrow and new light to look forward to...even if we've just been through hell...do you get it. do you feel me.

please bring back 2014 indie pop (i could care less that a few of these songs were pre or post the 2014 era if the song fits it fits)

cecelia and the satellite by andrew mcmahon in the wilderness

i wanna get better by bleachers

cigarette daydreams by cage the elephant

ways to go by grouplove

girls by the 1975

miracle mile by cold war kids

take a walk by passion pit

little talks by of monsters and men

tongue tied by grouplove

midnight city by m83

undercover martyn by two door cinema club

i can talk by two door cinema club

young blood by the naked and famous

kids by mgmt

1901 by phoenix

young folks by peter bjorn and john

daylight by matt & kim

animal by neon trees

stolen dance by milky chance

out of my league by fitz and the tantrums

talk too much by coin

greek tragedy by the wombats

chocolate by the 1975

anna sun by walk the moon

everybody talks by neon trees

what you know by two door cinema club

dancing on glass by st lucia

FEEL FREE TO READ THE PART AT THE TOP WHERE I SAY ITS NOT ALL FROM 2014 THANKS!

if you love criminal minds pls watch

Scorpion

stupid fucking genius team make stupid fucking decisions Every Single Episode

everyone's emotionally stunted. and mentally unwell. and act like children half the time

guess how a group of geniuses does in competitive environments? guess. go on.

multiple slow burns

Dad + Child relationships (but stupid)

less mature themes more fun and action

&

Lie To Me

GOD HE'S SO FUCKING ANNOYING I WANT TO SHAKE HIM HE'S SUCH A BITCH (fond)

dysfunctional team as dysfunctional family

everyone's emotionally stunted (part 2)

friends to coworkers to lovers arc of the fucking century (i take no responsibility for your feelings after the last episode)

mature themes on cm level & very morally ambiguous actions

pls. PLS.

IM SO F*CKING EXCITED ITS BEEN MY FAV TEEN WOLF FIC SINCE CHAPTER ONE OH MY GOD!!!!!

im writing the last few paragraphs of proclaim the truth and do not be silent through fear and i feel SICK

Pink Gauze & Glitter Glue

In season 2 I want them to reappear as kids.

I want them to get up and for Ben to be alive. I want Ben to be angry at everyone because of how they treated Klaus, and shrug off everyone's hugs and greetings. Smiling and nodding towards Vanya and Diego as Klaus is clinging onto him like hes his only lifeline (he might as well be).

I want Klaus to step back.

I want him to instinctively reach for dog tags that should be around his neck, a habit developed over 10 long months for whenever he felt anything remotely negative.

I want him to feel nothing and look down in panic as his siblings have a stare off in the background. Allison and Luther pushing Ben for answers on why hes so cold.

I want Ben to turn towards Klaus and I want to see the exact moment Ben realizes something is wrong.

I want Klaus to start hyperventilating as his world zeros in on the fact that they're in the past, that his clothes didn't transfer through time travel, that hes stuck in his old academy uniform and that he's missing Dave's dog tags.

Hes missing Dave's dog tags.

He's missing Dave's dog tags.

They're gone.

They didn’t transfer through time travel.

I want Klaus to realize. I want Ben to realize.

And then.

I want.

To see him...

break.

Klaus has gone through so much and I want him to sob, I want him to claw at his chest and release blood curdling screams of emotional agony as his last connection to Dave is severed.

I want Ben to pull him in his arms and hold him as Klaus shatters.

Klaus, already a pile of shards, already only held together by pink gauze and glitter glue.

And in that moment he changes.

As Ben screams at his siblings in righteous fury, finally cracking under their accusing stares. Every wrong they’ve ever committed towards Klaus spilling past his lips like a never ending stream of poison.

I want Klaus to go blank.

A blankness that Five is intimately aware of, one that is part of him still. A blankness that he never would wish on any of his siblings, one that he came back to prevent.

I want him to go blank. The blank of someone who has forgotten happiness. I want him to stand up and wipe his face, I want him to stare at his siblings, zeroing in on Luther, and turn.

I want a dark Klaus. One who suffers from extreme PTSD and anxiety. One who can stand in the middle of a battlefield and calmly load a revolver and shoot every person perfectly in the forehead. One who still makes dirty jokes (now twisted and macbre and no longer finny) and wears extravagant clothes (only in pitch black). One who still does his nails in neon colors and smudges his eyeliner everywhere (now only a routine force of habit and not because it brings happiness), but also one who is a shadow of his former self.

I want a Klaus who is broken, bruised, shattered, torn. I want a Klaus whose pieces have turned to shards. Whose gauze is now barbed wire and whose glitter glue is now acid.

I want a Klaus who has an obvious, terrifying, plastic smile. I want him to willingly torture, hurt, kill and maim. I want him cold, cynical, apathetic, harsh, downright cruel.

And then

I want him to get better. I want him to change, to learn to let go, to free himself. And in the very last season I want him to smile; a bright, sunny, happy thing; crack a very Klaus joke; don his feather boa; grab his pink rimmed umbrella; shimmy into his tight lace up pants, sheer crop top, black coat and 6 inch death wish heels; and I want him to stroll into the sunset dancing to music on his I pod and singing a happy little tune.

I want Allison to whisper, with tears in her eyes that that was his first real smile in years (hell maybe decades) as she shares a grin with her siblings.

Because recovery is part of the journey, and they deserve to be happy too.

No matter how twisted their family is.