The more I think about the last minutes the more I’m sure Crowley was saying goodbye from the minute Aziraphale told him he’d said yes to Heaven. He doesn’t confess his love like he’s hopeful, he confesses it like a eulogy. He doesn’t kiss him to make a beginning, he kisses him to seal the end. He watches him go like it’s the last time.
Crowley knows Heaven. He knows they’ll want to either make Aziraphale just like them, or destroy him. Either way I think he believes he’s seen his angel for the last time.
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i’m into men who fuck you so good that they’re fucking STARVING afterwards; men who truly give you their all.
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ngl one of the most useful things i’ve internalized from doing art online is never tell people what to criticize. don’t preemptively apologize for things or point out where you think you fumbled, it’s just priming people to notice minor issues that might not actually matter and hit you where you’re sensitive and throw you off your game. don’t tell people your weak points. if it’s a genuine problem they’ll point it out
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Thinking about an AU where Clark landed on earth as an adult instead of a baby. Literally nothing changes except for Bruce having to hide this 6’4, 200 pound golden retriever who shoots lasers out of his eyes in his mansion.
Clark is VERY clingy and these soft whispers in his language send tremors down Bruce’s spine.
And, really, the moon rocks Clark keeps bringing are very beautiful, but it’s getting harder to explain where they come from.
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Jason: (stubs toe) AH GAH F*CK THIS TABLE
Dick: Jay Language! You should be ashamed!
Jason: You. You taught me these words man.
Dick: (now sweating a little bit) Such foul language and now lies? You lie on the name of your older brother? I don’t know what I did wrong! Timber have you ever ever heard me curse?
Tim: …no?
Dick: exactly! You wound me Jacey!
Jason: you literally would party all the time and you once told this very table the exact same thing I just said!
Tim: … okay the joke was funny before but now you’re taking it a bit too far Jason.
Jason: WHAT? ME!?
Later he found a Polaroid of a younger Dick Grayson clothes in disarray, holding a bottle of tequila and dancing amongst several other people. Said photo has a note on the back that read “hope to see you again soon” next to a deep red kiss mark.
Jason: SEE I WASN’T LYING LOOK!
Tim: …This is really good photoshop! I thought you didn’t want to learn! But seriously can you drop this? You’re asking me to believe that the guy who calls me timbits did drugs. Its not gonna work.
Dick: (mouthing behind Tim) no one will ever believe you >:)
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Prompt 185
No one could get into contact with Constantine.
Now usually that wasn’t that big of a deal, the man constantly disappeared for a few days at a time doing something or other, but he’d been completely silent and unseen for months. Usually he’ll at least answer a call to tell them to fuck off or something.
And they really need his expertise and are getting incredibly worried for their grumpy team member. Yes he’s an asshole, but he’s their asshole, y’know? And he has a habit of getting into Situations (sure he also usually gets out of them, but what if he didn’t this time?!)
So they’re desperate. Kind of really desperate. Desperate enough to use the summoning sigil they found on his fridge. They’d checked it, multiple times, and it should summon the hellblazer.
“You’re not Constantine.” .
The white-haired teen in the circle yawned, stretching and blinking at them blandly with familiar blue eyes before sighing. “Actually I am,” he stuffed his hands into his hoodie as he looked down at the summoning circle. “Well, technically just one of the many Laughing Magicians currently in the Realms.”
He gave a grin, looking more amused than annoyed. “Pretty much every one of us is in the Realms right now for family reunion lol. (Did he just say lol out loud??) So like, you’re gonna have to specify which of us you’re tryin’ to summon. Honestly perfect timing for me thanks, the fruitloop keeps flirting with John and it’s horrific so.”
… That was probably their John, wasn’t it…
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Sure, Sam’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline once Dean starts losing patience and rifling through Cas’s pockets whenever Cas can’t find something.
But they practically jump off his head and shoot up to the clouds when Dean starts storing his own shit in Cas’s pockets. Receipts, spare change, gloves, pens, knives, other random weapons, pamphlets, folded-up restaurant menus, maps, knickknacks, his own fucking wallet.
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