Tumgik
#angell is fucking gorgeous
zwan99 · 2 months
Text
New S-rank Umbra: Angell (I'm losing my mind with her)
New A-rank Endura: Golan
New 2* skin for Uni
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I'll just add this video for your enjoyment:
71 notes · View notes
goth-maudra · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
I just had a thought about the costume design for Crowley.
The vests he wears mimic a corset. There's usually talk about Aziraphale's clothing layers, but Crowley has them tightly wrapped and covered. His clothing has a lot of buttons, even though they're usually open. His figure lines often form an hourglass.
And that red snakey print shirt under a black lace vest in the 1800s? *chef's kiss*
203 notes · View notes
wadderz · 10 months
Text
Part 2 of Hannah at the Angel City vs. Gotham match.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
337 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Okay...first of all...a friend of mine got these photos for me. All in HIGH DEFINITION. Now, the photos are quite large in MB size, so I'm going to post one or two at a time.
Vincent Price in production of Angel Street 1941-42
178 notes · View notes
sincericida · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
GUYS, ANDREW GARFIELD IS ALIVE AND FILMING!
He’s filming a mystery project in LA | March 20, 2024
(source)
51 notes · View notes
iwozlegit · 9 days
Text
|| 🍍• Could you imagine being all geared up to watch, laugh, and love on-screen Huskerdust only to get fucking La La Land-ed with a fucking unexpected plot twist that they’re seemingly made for each other but something changes and we then see them meeting each other years later?
Concept/image/mini-fic in more detail below ⬇️
Angel Dust is free of Val and visiting a bar which just so happens to have a certain cat, still chained to his master, tickling the ivories to a small bar crowd.
The sweet sombre melody of Loser, Baby floats around the bar, an unusual air in a Hell nightclub.
Angel, in his own little world, settles by the bar and orders his drink. A classic Sex on the Beach. A usual of his. Though, upon tasting it, it’s not massively to his tastes, and he opts to twirl it before his eyes wondering how and why they haven’t tasted like the dreamy ones of his memories.
Trapped in the midst of his recollections, Angel begins swaying along to the bar’s live music, feeling a welcoming warmth wash over him after a long day.
And slowly, very slowly, Angel begins to awaken to the warmth of the melody - it’s familiar. It’s personal. The feeling reminds him of coming home. And all at once, the cogs finally find their rhythm, and the reflections illuminated on his glass cast a vista he never thought he’d see again.
There he is. After all this time. After everything. There. He. Is. Tickling the ivories in a dingy dive bar to the notes of their song, and serenading sinners to the ode of them. Of everything they were. Of everything they almost became.
Eventually, Angel brings himself to turn around and behold the cat for himself; lower hands coming together to fidget as they always did as his upper hands endeavour to steady themself around the stem of the forgotten drink.
He should leave, he thinks. He hates how that is his first thought upon seeing Husk after so long. Pay up quietly, discreetly, and walking straight back up the stairs to the street. He knows in that moment at least that he’s changed from who he once was upon arrival to Hell, and, later to the hotel. He doesn’t have to pretend about anything, he tells himself. He’s not about the pretending lifestyle anymore, right?
Half settled on his decision, he downs the sugary beverage as he stands - striving to convince himself the building burn in his throat is just the drink and nothing more - and places the cash plus change to a little too harshly onto the bar.
The coinage rattles, spilling in all directions, and Angel fumbles and curses to catch the bits that clatter to the floor.
It takes him far longer to pick up that which has been spilled. He hates that. He hates how the music stills prematurely to a stop, and he hates how his eyes begin to burn in sync to the discomfort of his throat. He hates how he feels the bar looking even though they likely aren’t, and he hates how of all the eyes he’s convinced are staring, there’s only one that overpowers them all.
Swallowing around the unease, Angel stands, placing the change onto the bar with a silent “sorry,” and moves slowly towards the exit.
The eyes follow him. Their warmth blessedly familiar. A small part of Angel wishes they hadn’t. A much larger part relaxes against their power, mesmerising and strong, but not forceful. They never had been. Not so long ago, yet long enough potentially forget, those eyes had skilfully unravelled him with a care that help ignite a sense of urgency within him to change. The final straw on the camel’s back some would say. The catalyst.
His catalyst.
Angel stifled a sob as he paused at the stair’s handrail, or was it a laugh? He told himself it was a laugh and smiled around the spikiness of the unusual happy sadness.
After all this time. After everything. Angel was happy to say goodbye again. Because it wasn’t really a goodbye. It was also a hello.
And reassured, he turns, and he smiles, hoping it’s convincing even though he knows his cheeks are damp.
So many words.
So many memories.
So many what-could-have-been scenarios swirling amongst the thick air.
Husk merely blinks at him, finally acknowledged. And then, like heaven in hell, Husk smiles. His ‘Angel’ smile. That soft, gentle lidded sort of smile that enlarged the heart details above his brows and etched the motions of his crusty old heart for all to see. Ever the respectful Husker, man of honour and integrity that warmed Angel in ways no hands or bodies ever could, and likely never would.
How lucky he’d been. How happy he’d been.
They hold the look for longer than they should have, this they both know…
Tumblr media
…And then Angel Dust leaves, smiling as their song picks up again to serenade wayward sinner couples, who were none the wiser that two passing ships reunited for one last time…
How beautiful life could be…even in death.
(Should I like actually write this in more detail and post it? Would anyone even read something like this??)
25 notes · View notes
ryan-waddell11 · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
HIS EYES ARE SO BEAUTIFUL
877 notes · View notes
sunfir3rain · 2 months
Text
there are a lot of characters in rdr2 who have brown eyes but somehow the ones mary has are the most captivating to me and i seriously can't tell why. they are pulling me in and i drowned in them
35 notes · View notes
frnkiebby · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
our sweet angel darling~🎃
28 notes · View notes
hanasinbloom · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Father of the Year™, everybody.
66 notes · View notes
camellcat · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
she's so clever with her little winking I love her so much
21 notes · View notes
lesbicosmos · 10 days
Text
im convinced part of the casting criteria for the main 4 was "must have the bone structure of a god"
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
17 notes · View notes
ibeewashere · 8 months
Text
Thinking. Thinking about Danny Pudi in the arguement again. God he looks so fucking frazzled I just want to kiss him on the forehead and maybe just maybe the lips
Tumblr media Tumblr media
48 notes · View notes
Text
Tumblr media
Vincent Price in a production of Angel Street 1941-42
109 notes · View notes
devilicious-v · 10 months
Text
In a world where darkness dwells,
She's a beacon, a tale to tell.
Her kindness and generosity abound,
Marvelous in every deed profound.
A kind soul, an Angel so pure,
Bringing light to hearts unsure.
She consumes the darkness, sets it free,
Leaving behind a shining legacy.
With love that knows no bounds,
Her heart, a treasure, astounds.
She makes others' souls gleam,
With every act, like a radiant dream.
A doctor by profession, Angel at heart,
She melted my being, a magical art.
Completing me, making me whole,
Her touch mended the depths of my soul.
The happiness of the world she deserves,
For she's a gem that never swerves.
Envy may cloak those who gaze,
But she remains unblemished in her grace.
Precious and in need of tender care,
A strong-willed woman, beyond compare.
Crafted by God with utmost perfection,
A testament to divine affection.
Blessed are those who converse each day,
With her, life's blessings come to play.
Forever cherished, this woman divine,
A treasure to hold, an eternal shrine…!♥️
55 notes · View notes
jarofalicesgrunge · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Layne & Jerry
179 notes · View notes