How It Started

Well yes .

Malik: I don’t think we can mansplain, manipulate and manwhore our way out of this one, hawke

Casteel: manslaughter it is then

Malik: *agrees*

Sea otters will often cover their eyes with their paws to help them sleep during the day

(via)

friendly reminder

that Henry Branwell introduced Magnus Bane to glitter

Advice no one wants to hear:

You HAVE to put in the work or it isn't going to happen.

This means, yes, you're going to need to actually work constantly for a solid year to reach your goals. Probably longer than that, honestly. You are going to be tired and it isn't as easy as anyone makes it out to be.

But if you don't get up and make the change in your life, no one is.

omg #22

So my wonderful @uncapedcru5ader pointed out something interesting that I had never noticed before while we were watching Good Omens together:

For the entirety of episode 5 and about half of 6, Crowley stops calling Aziraphale "angel" and starts referring to him only by his actual name.

The first time (chronologically) that Crowley calls Aziraphale "angel" (at least as far as we can know) is during the French Revolution.

So since at least 1793, Crowley has always called Aziraphale "angel". (Except for one time, a very serious time, when he calls him to talk about the beginning of the end of the world.)

And then - they have a fight. And he stops.

Episode 4: Saturday Morning Funtime.

"I'm going home, angel. I'm getting my stuff and I'm leaving. And when I'm off in the stars, I won't even THINK about you."

That was the last time (for a while) that Crowley called Aziraphale "angel."

In the bookshop fire, he calls him Aziraphale.

When he sees him again after thinking he was gone forever, he calls him Aziraphale.

Every time he refers to him, its not "angel", it's "Aziraphale."

Crowley doesn't call him "angel" again until it's (mostly) over, after Armageddon’t.

This is unusual behavior for someone who has been calling his lover friend the same pet name nickname for over 200 years. So why the change?

It's not that he doesn’t want to call him "angel" in front of other people. He's done that loads of times before, and, frankly, they have more important things to worry about then.

It’s not that he’s too mad at Aziraphale to call him a pet name nickname. As seen above and in 1862, he calls him “angel” even during their fights.

No, Crowley’s worried that they aren’t there anymore. He’s worried that Aziraphale really meant it when he said “it’s over”, that he isn’t his angel anymore and is just Aziraphale now.

I am sure that while Crowley was drowning his sorrows after the fire, the last thing he said to Aziraphale kept playing over and over in his mind. Crowley has a temper. He says things he doesn’t mean when he gets angry. He knows that that was a complete lie.

But Aziraphale doesn’t.

Even after the discorporated Aziraphale shows up, Crowley has got to be thinking: “Damn it, I really screwed it up this time. I’ve hurt my best friend and he’s probably still mad at me. Probably the only reason he’s still associating with me is because he needs my help to save the world.”

If you ask me, Aziraphale showing up was the only reason Crowley left that bar to go save it. If Aziraphale needed his help to save the world, than by god satan, Crowley was going to pull himself together and help him save it, whether Aziraphale was mad at him or not. Because, to him, a world with Aziraphale in it was a world worth fighting to save.

But I digress.

So Crowley pulls himself together. He’s not exactly sure where he stands with Aziraphale, but they work together to try to save the world. And the entire time, Crowley doesn’t call him “angel”, because, as far as he knows, Aziraphale is still mad at him.

And then - they win. They stand against horsemen, their respective bosses, and even Satan himself, and they win. That night, after they’ve saved the world together, Crowley and Aziraphale sit at a bus stop. It’s dark and quiet and it’s just the two of them. And Crowley tests the waters.

He gently, ever so gently tries to nudge Aziraphale and himself back to where they were. He doesn’t growl “We’re on our side”, like at the bandstand, he doesn’t plead with Aziraphale to go off with him. He softly remarks that they have their own side now, and offers to let him stay with him, if Aziraphale wants.

For once in his life, Crowley is moving slowly.

And Aziraphale appreciates it and accepts him.

when she says she doesn’t send nudes

okay, i don’t hate kids. i think they’re sort of funny. i like that you can talk to them like an adult and they’ll make sounds like they understand. i taught one kid “phosphorescence” and he looked at me and said, “they could just call it glowing if it means something that glows.” the kid undid the entire science community in one sentence.

but i hate kids.

or really, i hate how they’ve always been expected from me.

when i was five i was given “babies.” i hated the hardness of dolls, disposed of them for dramatic stories between stuffed animals. i knew how to wrap, feed, and care for a baby before i could spell my last name. when i was nine i was already “watching the kids”. i was only four years older than my cousins were. i wanted to go out and play. instead i was expected to have responsibility. by the time i was thirteen all of my friends had told me about how many children they were going to have in their twenties. 

my hips were “child-bearing” hips. my brother was a scientist, or a fireman, or a steamroller. i was going to make a good housewife, or mom, or nanny, or mom, or mom, or mom.

and when my body hurt, i was told it wasn’t really my body, not really, it belonged to my future children. i couldn’t cut or snip or tie anything; i was trapped by the potential energy that hung above me. a boulder, threatening. i couldn’t get tattoos, because what would i tell my children? i couldn’t kiss a girl, because what would i tell the children? i couldn’t be risky or wild or anything but a lady, because what about the children?

and when i said “i don’t want children” - not biologically, at least, not when cancer and depression and a whole other host of terrible things lives inside me - do you know what they said? “it’ll change, wait and see” “it’s not bad” “you’ll get used to it” “when you meet the right man” “you don’t want to be lonely”.

i don’t hate kids. i’m great with them. 

but then i’m told again that my life will be forfeit to them - something in me snaps angry. “wait until you have kids” “you should travel before you have children” “you’ll be more happy.” 

i hate kids! i’ve snarled. i don’t mean it at all. but god. please, leave me alone. i don’t want to be a biological mom. 

it’s like we’re born with a uterus and told “this is your whole life. your singular purpose. your job.” 

i want to be my own purpose. not here for the sake of passing genes on.