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Lipstick And Lightplay

@randomactsofviolence

Lelithsugar on Ao3.
31/f/the dreadfort
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I know what you smell like

- a brief Good Omens meta essay, by LelithSugar.

Hell does not in fact smell of brimstone. 

And nor does Crowley.

Hell smells of whatever invokes the deepest horror in the tormentee. So yes perhaps, to some - the devout whose piety extended to fearing eternal damnation but not, say, to resisting the temptation to abuse a position of power - hell does smell of bubbling sulfur.

To some it might smell like whiskey on breath. To someone else perhaps it's disinfectant and petroleum jelly. Others, Like body odor, or offal, or like a festival portaloo that's been in the sun for three days. Like ammonia or stale lavender or burning tyres.  You know that bit in Mary Poppins where the medicine tastes like whatever they like most? The revolting reverse of that.

When Aziraphale enters hell, he finds tohis surprise that it smells of nothing at all. Sterile. Not a whiff of smoke or rotten egg or any of it. Just… Nothing. Really intense nothing. 

This is because to Aziraphale, hell should smell like the absence of his dearest friend and eternal companion. His other half. The thing he fears most, has suffered the most, is missing Crowley. 

And since demons carry the smell of hell, this is a paradox, impossible and self defeating: the olfactory equivalent of dividing by zero. Something can't smell simply like the opposite of the absence of itself, especially when it should inherently smell the same as the thing that smells of the lack of it. That's just preposterous. 

So Crowley chooses to smell of Bvlgari's Black Jasmine. 

And hell, thereby, smells of …not that. 

And do you know what the specific absence of a particular designer eau de parfum smells like? No. Then you can't expect demons to. and you think Hastur's a bit gross, you should see the one they've put in charge of dumping the satanic frebreeze into the air ducts.

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Striction

Imagine this body without an apology.

Without a dancing hour of caveats and girding.

Imagine pleasure without pain first.

Imagine sex without a summit of negotiations. Just when you want. Just because you want.

But wanting has never been enough, in this body. Brain must protect heart must betray flesh must explain skin.

Imagine waking up how you were meant to be.

Couldn't be me.

(By lelithsugar)

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Eggsy thinks Harry is some sort of this insanely well-composed and well-mannered gentleman, but is he really? This guy that says “shit” and “tits-up” casually, the same guy that starts a pub brawl with some kids because of a snidey comment? The guy that proposes a candidate outside of their usal pool of posh and rich, twice? And probably has a blast spiting Arthur? The guy that is late all the time? The guy that could have patiently chatted to professor Arnold but instad loses it within 3 seconds and just grabs the man by his ear? The guy that goes and brings Eggsy back to his house deciding he was going to get him into Kingsman even when he failed the last test? The guy that says “hail, Satan” to a crazy woman in a hate church? The man that password protects his glasses feed so even Merlin won’t be able to see his footage if he doesn’t want him to? The guy that calls Arthur a snob, to his face?

Come on, Harry Hart is the motherfucking rebel child of Kingsman. 

Thiiiiis. The man is fucking buck wild.

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imagine going to your job and one of your coworkers is the drinking out of this motherfucker:

what a power move. like, if nobody else says anything you can’t call them out because then you have to reveal your own degeneracy.  you just have to sit there knowing that that smug bastard got away with it.

“Neat logo! Is that a gaming company like Razer?“

“Eh, more of a toy company, actually.”

no literally i work with a dude who wears his bad dragon logo stuff to work. has a bad dragon sticker on his car. like when i was training the guy i saw his lanyard and was like ‘ah. noted.’ and we went about our business. and this was how literally everyone was about it for months.

then one day this kid we work with was like ‘wHy do you have a BAD DRAGON lanyard!?’ and bad-dragon-lanyard-guy was like ‘*shrug* i enjoy their products.’ ‘bUT they sell DILDOS???’ and i’ll never forget just the LOOK bad-dragon-lanyard-guy gave this kid when he was like ‘yes, i’m well aware’ with the tone in his voice just like ‘people are gay, nolan’

Hey I wore a t shirt of theirs and ended up having a veiled conversation about favourites in the crisps aisle of a Tesco in Derbyshire. Made my week!

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Cheap Spares and Running Repairs

The thing is, some of us, we are car crashes. 

But we're little ones. Fender benders. Prangs.

Not worth stopping to check the damage, not worth the excess on the insurance.

And we can keep doing that for years. Decades.

Slip fifty quid and an apology under someone's windscreen wipers. Hope nobody calls the police.

How many ditches we narrowly avoid ending up in. How many curbs we bump and jolt awake.  How often we catch ourselves just before swerving across the central reservation.

The thing is, I'm 34 and I treasure this rust bucket, dented scratched shell covered in stickers. I'll keep it going as long as I can. Gets good mileage, I think.

The thing is, I don't even drive. 

(By Lelithsugar)

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On par with the argument of Aziraphale and Crowley fitting so many different types of queer rep into them because they can be whatever we want to see them and that's awesome... There's an argument I always miss in this sort of "discourse", and it's that even outside of human labels and identities, they are absolutely queer characters? Like, even ignoring all the human stuff, saying they might not have gender for real, are canonically sexless, etc etc... Like, guys, they're so queer when you just look at them as angels (demons).

Crowley's presentation is continuously neat, tidy, fashionable and modern. He isn't presenting at all the way other demons are. Demons are expected to be dirty, with old clothes, hair full of grease and blood and other gross liquids, sores on their faces, animals on their heads. Crowley doesn't confirm to this presentation at all. We speak about his gender non-conformity in human terms, but his demon non-conformity is at least as important IMO. Crowley chooses how he wants to look, how he wants to be seen, for himself, even if it's looked down on and met with scorn from the demons around him. (Does this strike cords with anyone else who's gnc? Because it should.)

Likewise, Aziraphale doesn't wear the tailored suits and the gold tattoos that are a normal presentation for an angel. He engages in a lot of unangelic activities, like hoarding books and enjoying meals, and he gets flack for it the same way any person who fails at having the proper interests for their gender gets flack from their environment, too.

Already on their own these characters are queer coded that way. And then there's their relationship, their love for one another, the way they're drawn to a member of a group they're not at all supposed to be attracted to. They fall in love with the wrong person. The person they love isn't the gender sort of angel they're supposed to, allowed to love. Does that sound familiar to anyone?

Especially Aziraphale goes through all the struggles a lot of us queer folk go though. He tries to not see it. They're just acquaintances, it's nothing - okay, they work together sometimes - okay, they might be friends, but they can't - oh fuck he loves Crowley, and it's mutual, and he cannot live in a world that doesn't have Crowley, but loving him puts Crowley at risk, they can't let anyone see, ever. That's, yeah, that's just living in a homophobic world, y'all. It does that to us. And Crowley is more comfortable with his love in itself (and cares less for the approval of his family side), but he too is aware of the risks and aware of how difficult giving in to it is for Aziraphale.

Like, yes, the characters aren't human. There's analogies and metaphors and shit here, yeah. But their entire story is queer as fuck. Please shut up about the queer baiting.

Beautifully put.

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