#this is so fucking goodm

[unionfish]

I am in such a good reading streak like every book I've read lately has been so fucking goodm

#gonna continue the streak and continue the patternist series

[err0r-of-lif3]

Okay here's the entry for today :)

《 》

I think sitting with him and just listening to music by a pond was the most peaceful I've felt in ages. I love his company and how he seems to need to be touching me with something or other at every point (even if it means putting his stinky shoes on me).

He let me try his headphones on and jesus christ I need them the bass was so goodm I love music. The sound made me stim and he pulled up a fuxking family guy meme 🧍 he makes fun of me in such an endearing way it's pure happiness to be honest.

I was kind of sad that he didn't want to hang out for the rest of the day but he was tired and went to school when he didn't need to be at school so he just wanted to go home, which is fair enough. So I decided to go jetty jumping.

I haven't been jetty jumping in years...not since j lived with mum...and that was ages ago. I think the beach I went to is the one we said goodbye to Sunnee at. I remember watching the balloons sail into the sky like a giant yellow and pink cloud. Big fuck you to global warming I guess.

I love taking public transport, it's peaceful and I get to people watch. I like imagining what lives they're living and whether or not they're doing the same thing to other people. I like being by myself. I am my own best company, I like not having to worry about other people's opinions.

When I got to the jetty I picked one of the levels that you couldn't access just by the ramp, you had to climb down a ladder or two to reach it. This meant noone else was there, or would be there for a while. Just how I liked it. I stripped down to my underwear. Not even my bathers. Just my cotton underwear and old lace bra. And I didn't care. I put all my stuff into a pile under the ladder and mustered up the courage to jump.

Freezing.

My feet easily touch the sand floor and I pushed myself back to the surface of the water. Minnows dash around me. The water is crystal clear. I can see the bottom from every angle. The blue-green tinge making my heart jump. It's beautiful. I'm also fucking freezing.

I swam to the ladder, climbing up. I gasped as the wind bit at me. Laughing at how exhilarating it is. I dry my hands and update my friends :)

I jump more and more.

Ignoring the looks I get from people on the higher level. I am unstoppable. I am having fun. Today is my day. I checked my phone again in time to watch it go fucking flat 😓

I dried myself with my flanno and put my stupid fucking jorts on (I fucking hate jorts and I hate that I own them I'm gonna sob). I gathered my things and went to the bus stop to check when the next bus back to Freo is. Not for another 20 minutes. Fuck.

I went to the beach Cafe and asked to charge my phone but they were closing, so I walked across the road to the beach hotel. As soon as I walk in I feel underdressed but the barstaff greeted me with the biggest smiles.

They agreed to charge my phone and took my charger with them behind the bar. I sat down at a small table and waited.

My eyes searched the building. One room was a farmers shop, with home made jams with beeswax toppers instead of lids. Another room had paintings, small price tags printed to the bottom corner. Through a doorway I could see the dining room to the resteraunt.

It was beautiful.

Golden lighting, candlelit tables, a giant tree with branches stretching across the roof. The cherry on top? The open kitchen wall, where even though I was on the other side of the building, I could see the goings-on of the staff. I watch one chop vegetables and another shake a pan that goes up in flames and goes out again in a split second. I'm gazing around in wonder as a bartender walks up to me and asks if I want a water.

These staff are dressed in elegance reimagined. Their hair is gelled back. Their posture impeccable. I am wearing a muscle tank, jorts and my Connie's.

I say yes.

He comes back with a tall glass, water, ice and lime slice all floating within. It tastes fucking amazing. I feel like I'm in a movie.

I finish the water and asked for my phone, he thanks me for coming and I walk back out into reality. Still reeling. This day can't get any better.

I took the bus back to freo and walked the main street until I came to my favourite book store. I know what kind of book I want. A romance, preferably whirlwind. But the way I choose books is whatever jumps out at me. The book I buy actually falls on me.

I am actively trying to romanticise my day now, thinking about how good of a tumblr post each activity will be. And then I hunger for fresh fruit.

I spend half an hour looking for a grocer to no avail. I get gelato instead. I sit and eat it at a picnic bench listening to the music of the shop I bought it from. The sun kissing the back of my neck. I am elated.

I finally decide to go to therapy, I'm 10 minutes early so I sit and begin reading my book. It's interesting. It gives me the idea to use a clothes peg as a hair clip. I like it. My therapist finally opens the door for me to come in and we exchange pleasantries before I tell her about my day.

We spend the session talking about [ redacted ]

Anyway.

I finish with my therapist and catch the last of the afternoon sunlight as I walk back to the trainstation to go home. I love it. I am content.

Romanticising my life is my favourite.

ANYWAY please find attached photos I took today! The ohotos of the resteraunt I grabbed off of google but look! It's so pretty :(

#blog #life #beach

[neurodivergentcosmos]

Disabled Good Omens Fics! Part 1

I thought it’d be good to create a list of the Good Omens fics out there w/ disabled characters! I don’t write fiction, but I want to promote all of the work you’ve been doing in making the Good Omens fandom a safe space for disabled fans! If there are any fics that aren’t on here, please let me know so I can make a Part 2~ Also: if any fic writers are looking for sensitivity readers to give feedback on accuracy of representation of autistic & queer characters, feel free to reach out to me! Check out my Sensitivity Reader page on my blog for more info. Interdependence by @goodm-omen-ts: Autistic Aziraphale & Crowley w/ chronic pain & PTSD. Want to read a lovely fic where Aziraphale & Crowley figure out each other’s access needs together? Read this fic by a good friend & lovely person! and the punchline to the joke is asking SOMEONE SAVE US by @princex-n: Crowley w/ chronic pain. Crowley’s experiences w/ chronic pain over 6000 years up to the body swap. I love how Crowley’s character arc from being ashamed of his disability to being ready to tell Aziraphale was depicted. Also the way inaccessibility in the environment & internalized ableism are shown are really well done.    its duty is to harm me, my duty is to know by @natalunasans: Autistic Aziraphale & Crowley w/ ADHD & chronic pain. Great multiple chapter fic. I enjoyed seeing assistive technology in there b/c it doesn’t come up often in fic & I LOVE that Crowley is Jewish. TW for blood/injury.  Shakes and Tremors by @milla-gsd: Crowley w/ chronic pain. Crowley tells Aziraphale about his chronic pain for the first time & Aziraphale is completely supportive. The “you’re not alone” feels I got from this made me quite emotional. Father of War by @stories-of-arani: Aziraphale w/ PTSD. Explores Aziraphale’s role in Heaven before coming to Earth & the impact that has left on him. This fic left me speechless & blown away. TW for brief descriptions of wars. i want you today, tomorrow, next week, and for the rest of our lives by @bannerenthusiast: Autistic Aziraphale & disabled Crowley. SOFT FLUFF and plans for the future! This is a really sweet & adorable fic. Please by @not-a-fucking-pogo-stick: Crowley w/ chronic pain. Aziraphale supports Crowley when Crowley has a pain flare. I love Crowley’s characterization here.  Our Own Universe by @alas-pancakes: Autistic original character. Aziraphale & Crowley take in an autistic kid & give him the love & support he always should have had. I read this fic to remind myself that chosen parents who accept children for who they are are out there. TW for emotional abuse (parent emotionally abusing their child), ableism, & 1 use of the r word. a culmination of miracles by @campgender: Crowley w/ chronic pain. Crowley tells Aziraphale he has chronic pain & Aziraphale wants to understand so he can support Crowley. TW for minor unintentional ableism. Not Alone by @superqueerdanvers: Crowley & Anathema friendship. Anathema & Crowley have a conversation about their disabilities & find solidarity together. Crowley w/ chronic pain & Anathema is an amputee. i was lost at the edge of dying (in a world so cold) by @brokenfannibal: Autistic Crowley. Crowley is captured by a cult & Aziraphale has to rescue him. TW for violence & torture.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens fic rec #ineffable partners #aziraphale #crowley #anathema #disabled good omens #autistic aziraphale #chronic pain crowley #adhd crowley #autistic crowley #ptsd aziraphale #ptsd crowley #neurodivergent #disability

[goodm-omen-ts]

Interdependence - Good Omens

Have a fic! Happy Disability Pride Month!

Follow the author: @goodm-omen-ts​

Tags: Autistic Character, Autistic Aziraphale, Crowley Has Chronic Pain (Good Omens), Crowley Has PTSD (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Hurt Crowley, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Constipation, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Declarations Of Love, First Kiss, Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Walking Canes, Canes, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Protective Crowley, Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Chronic Pain, Disabled Character, Physical Disability, Disability

[Available on AO3]

What they don’t tell you about Falling is, well, everything you would need to know. No one talks about what it’s like. Not in Heaven (they wouldn’t really know, now would they) and certainly not in Hell (not much heart-to-heart happening down there). Obviously it’s horrifying, but that summary doesn’t really cut it, in Crowley’s opinion.

It was for reasons of Falling that Crowley had woken up from his century-long coma a hundred years ago. He was having a lark, dreaming and all that, until he dreamed of Falling. This was not uncommon, and if he was lucky, he could control that dream, and actually Fall upwards to give Heaven the finger or flap his white wings before they were barbecued. But that time he had dreamed in a loop. Over and again he would arrive in Heaven where someone (Gabriel, Michael, once it was Lucifer, once even Hastur) would smile at him with the same creepy, passive-aggressive smile, and he would feel the weightlessness before the plunge, and then his wings caught fire, and the flames crept up his spine and leapt from feather to feather to feather until both wings were singed and dripping with blood that was curdling until it was black as the universe around him, and it was oppressively hot, just absolutely scorching, as he fell like a star from the sky. He plummeted down down down. In the dreams he always went through the Earth—just smashed right through the desert, the molten core, everything—and landed in Hell, and fell through that, too, until he was suspended among the stars, writhing and shivering, white-hot pain racing through his body, and then he would start back again in Heaven with the Judgment, service with a smile. Then the screaming, thrashing, the pungent scent of burning hair and feathers and flesh, the whole grand production.

This time the dream was a little different.

For one, it was definitely Gabriel who sent him through, and this time he said, “Shut your stupid mouth and die already,” with his lips curled in disgust, which felt a bit like ordering a hamburger at the counter and getting a “fuck you” in return. For the Earth portion, he was driving the Bentley at 110 mph and it was also on fire. In Hell, Satan looked a lot different from his days Up There. Oh, and most importantly, Crowley’s body wasn’t his fucking body. Aziraphale was Falling, and it was all Crowley’s fault.

In his flat, in Mayfair, in the year 2019 if you were most humans and 6019 if you were immortal, Crowley lurched out of bed in a panic and stumbled across the bedroom, bumped into the doorway and slid against the wall until he landed on the floor. Here he sat shaking, pupils dilated to saucers; he could hardly see, save for a hazy mixture of light and shadow that looked distinctly like flames. His back—his angel's wings, he thought, they're gone—pressed against the concrete wall, he sank to the floor and curled into himself, knees folded to protect his body and arms upright to shield his face. He hid beneath the large, vibrant leaves of his plants, who didn’t know how to feel about their tyrant cowering beneath them, sobs and whimpers wrenching free from his throat. A fern in the corner drooped in sympathy, which ordinarily would have prompted Crowley to make an example out of the insubordinate weed. Now, he didn’t even notice.

“Ssstop, ssstop…” came a small, broken voice that sounded quite like Crowley’s, but other than the plants, no one was there to confirm whether it actually belonged to him. Crowley would’ve denied it, of course, but he was a little busy Falling for the seven hundred and twenty-first time. Approximately.

After an eternity or an hour, Crowley began imagining that Aziraphale was guiding him up by the shoulders, righting him, gently pulling his arms away from his tear-stained face and murmuring pleasant nonsense like: “Oh, Crowley. It’s all right, I have you now, you’re all right.” The imaginary angel held on tight as he beckoned Crowley forward on legs like a newborn foal’s. “Yes, let’s get up off the floor, it’s much too cold and hard down there. That’s right, come now. I don’t suppose you’re shaking with the cold, hm? No, I shan’t think so.”

It would occur to Crowley later that he wasn’t, in fact, imagining this.

[Continue reading on AO3]  Don’t forget to kudos and comment! ♡

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #ineffable lovers #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #the ineffable plan #long post

[charmed-redemption]

Goodm morning handsome

" morning" Ricardo said as he rolled over, hearing the voice. After a few seconds Ricardo jumped up and moved across a the bed remembering the night before. { fuck I have to remember not to drink so much.} Looking to the man at his side he remembered that he didnt wake up before his guest, " im no where near handsome ... i look like shit"

[b0neless-gh0st]

8ts so fucking goodm

You should try it if you come here

I wanna move to canada but not for that reason

#Ashter/Wy answers #My lil storm

[datingadviceonreddit]

(19M) There’s this girl I work with that I like but I stopped talking to her because I thought she was just leading me on and only likes the attention I gave her. She would be nice one minute and then later on ignoring me or pretending I didn’t exist. It would be like we were literally having a great conversation like an hour ago and now seem mad at me for something? Because I would say something to her and she would walk past me and completely ignore me and not even make eye contactAfter some time she asked me why I stopped talking to her and I told her because she would act mad and then later be cool again like nothing happened and she responded and told me I’m sensitive so I thought I’d try talking to her again since now she knows that I don’t like when she’s moody towards me for no reason and she kept doing it and pretending like I don’t exist so I stopped talking to her for goodMe and her haven’t talked for months now and we see each other everyday but I still notice her looking at me and she looks upset when she sees me and I still like her but I feel like she was an asshole for being the way she was and even if she was mad at something she didn’t have to take it out on me by ignoring me or if she was mad at something I did she could’ve talked to me about it and she did this multiple times it wasn’t only a couple timesWas this girl into me all along and I fucked it up? Was this some sort of signal that she liked me that I didn’t pick up on? Or was my assumption about her just wanting attention right? via /r/dating_advice

#dating #dating advice #reddit

[theladymia]

the pan-up at the end of him in his little costume is so fucking amazing and aunt may is seriously so perfect and i lvoe her so mcuh and this is such a goodm ovie

#sh liveblogging

[neurodivergentcosmos]

Why Does God Allow Trauma To Happen?: A Crowley Meta

First of all, a huge thank you to @goodm-omen-ts for editing this piece!!! Your contributions are significant and you’ve really helped make this piece better. Y’all please check out their fic Interdependence ; it’s a wonderful disabled Good Omens WIP!  Content warning: discussion of abuse & trauma; will also be tagged.

GIF Description: Close-up of Crowley on his throne turning his face towards the viewer. The words at the bottom are “I didn’t mean to fall.”

I think that the question that Crowley has been pursuing for millennia is a question that so many trauma survivors, especially us with multiply marginalized identities are confronted with: “Why did God, the being who gave me life, the being I believe in, just watch?”

Crowley is cast out by Heaven because he perceives the world differently from the other angels. It isn’t “normal”/neurotypical for angels to ask questions about the how’s and why’s of the universe. In Heaven, divergent thought isn’t allowed. Because of this, we need to look at Crowley through a disabled/neurodivergent lens. Neurodivergent means anyone whose mind isn’t considered “normal” by societal standards. Since Heaven is governed by strictly defined ideas about the universe and punishes those who dare to think anything different, Crowley is neurodivergent in the context of Heaven. Crowley questioning the norms of society and God Herself is a disabled experience, and is reminiscent of the trauma that disabled folks experience in a normative/abled world. Crowley asks questions. He thinks differently from Heaven and Hell. And he’s cast out for it by those unwilling to try to understand him.

GIF Description: A zooming upward short of Crowley wrapped around his chair while papers of the planets fly everywhere. He’s saying the words at the bottom “I only ever asked questions.”

Even after six thousand years, Crowley needs to know if God loves him for who he is. Maybe God views neurodivergent minds as okay. If She signaled that this was true, that would mean that Heaven’s conception of God & the neurotypical norms Heaven is built on aren’t accurate after all. But God does nothing. God just watched as Heaven inflicted upon Crowley the most traumatic event that could happen. Why would God do this? What kind of creator would do this to a being She created? Does God really think like Heaven?  The Fall very much embodies trauma as a whole, especially in the context of society abusing those deemed “other” for the sake of maintaining “normal.” Crowley is left alone in trying to process everything (since Hell reproduces Heaven’s neurotypical oppression which leaves Crowley as neurodivergent in Hell context too). When a traumatic event happens, there really aren’t words in any language that capture the impact of it all. Often trauma is so beyond language that any attempt to articulate it feels inadequate. I call this experience of trauma The Unspeakable.

I connect to Crowley’s experience because I have experienced An Unspeakable in which neurotypical adults attempted to eliminate my autistic identity. Processing what I now know about The Unspeakable has forced me to ask questions about God. I have no idea whether God loves or accepts me as I am. Most of all, where was God when I was put through The Unspeakable? Why would God remain silent as society tried to strip my identity away because they view it as horrible? There are days when I wonder if asking God those questions is a useless endeavor and I should just give up on even trying.

But what is so beautiful and powerful about Crowley is that he never stops asking questions. He continues to challenge God on why She does nothing. Through this, he shows us that questioning everything is essential to processing trauma and how we connect with God in regards to that. We are allowed to ask God or our abusers, “What the fuck? Why do you let horrific things happen? Are you indifferent to the trauma that we struggle with every day?” At the core of everything though is that Crowley refuses to accept God’s silence. He isn’t going to stand by while God lets Armageddon happen because he survived The Fall, The Unspeakable, and he will drive through fire to ensure that no beings on Earth will ever experience the trauma he went through. When I hear Crowley say “You shouldn’t test them to destruction,” it reminds me of the reason why I get up in the morning: to fight for a future where no autistic child will ever experience The Unspeakable that happened to me. It’s worth it even if I can’t know whether God supports me or not. What matters is that if/when I falter, I’ll have a chosen family to share my life with, like Crowley has with Aziraphale, to help me remember why I’m here. Crowley created a meaningful life to fight for after The Fall. I can do the same after The Unspeakable. Thank you Crowley, for showing me that.

GIF Description: Crowley in the final scene at the Ritz. He’s looking at an off-camera Aziraphale with a soft smile on his face.

#good omens #crowley #my post #good omens meta #trauma survivor #cw abuse #cw trauma #neurodivergent #disability #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #personal

[datingadviceonreddit]

Ok people who like to read about others internal anguish - dicypher this one:Meet girl at out of state work thingo - at dinner we have great conversation its a shame i find out at the end she has a partner. Ok thats fine we can be friends. hang out together with mutual friend for a fair amount of time, plus a few hours at the airport and sitting together on the plane home ( i sat with her at her instigation) we swapped numbers on the plane (also at her instigation)It should be noted that our conversation wasn't flirtacious for obvious reasons, but it was clear i think to both of us that there was a connection.Conversation since: ( I've given the best i can for tone )Girl: that's the word I couldn't think of when we were talking about blah! Hope your first day back was goodMe: oh good blah blah, how was blah blah first day back?Girl: oh this and that tiring blah blah, at least it wasn't so blah blahMe: hour later I felt like dancing, thought you might feel like dancing tooGirl: "Ooh yes, that'll make (work reference) much easier"1 week passesGirl: "Wednesday morning music"Me: hours later "I see your mango tree and raise you the rain song"Girl: hours later "This is song that will make you dance when people make you want to hulk smash. nsfw though, it has the swears"Me: no contact - this was this morningOk, so this is kinda like song tag?? right... wrong... I dont know. I think that Im reading into everything way too much and I should forget the whole thing because she has a partner!! and Im not the kind of person who would mess up anybodys' business. However, I feel the song tag was a way to convey a certain somethingness and I think maybe she sent possibly the same at first? or maybe it was inoquous, but certainly at the end a clear fuck off message. If you get that vibe too then great! let me know so that our intuitions may connect in harmonious closure.If you think that this is seriously stupid and Im a basketcase then no arguments hereTLDR: dw its too sad to take seriously via /r/dating_advice

#dating #dating advice #reddit