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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 4 months

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cheer up good omens fandom crowley is coping

Worry not, maggots of mine, as your mascot and prophet I feel it my duty to assure you that Crowley is coping well after the events of season two. He is in fact with his plants, and has taken up new hobbies and music genres! Here is a terribly taken and very convincingly real photo of them having a girls night with the plants :")

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jalopeura · 8 months

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these might be the most important lines of dialogue in all of video game history actually.

#baldur's gate 3 #the dark urge #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #astarion #the dark urge spoilers #sabik #sabik in his Canon is a tav not a durge but. astarion pet names and dicking sabik down are canon in any universe so :shrug:#edit: i have decided sabik IS a durge in fact. what joy!

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goatsghost · 1 year

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an update on how i draw the wayne kids + some headcanons <3

#my art #batfamily #fanart #dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain #tim drake #duke thomas #damian wayne #i need to practice drawing tim some more - i’m not a huge fan of how he looks here yet :/#also i know they arabic isn’t an official lg of pakistan but the al ghuls DO know arabic so that’s what i’m basing it on #EDIT: i was misinformed about Cass’ birthday;#canonically she’s January and Jason is August so she is in fact older

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emcads · 11 months

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on women haunting the narrative, wearing a dead girl's dress, ill-fated love stories, a wavering border between life and death. ft. victoria winters & josette dupres, elizabeth swann & esmeralda de sevilla, mrs. de winter & rebecca de winter.

dark shadows 233 / dark shadows 5 / curse of the black pearl (2003) / rebecca (1940) / dark shadows 233 / "road to hell (reprise)" hadestown / dark shadows 4 / curse of the black pearl (2003) / the oresteia, t: anne carson / curse of the black pearl, deleted scenes / dark shadows 285 / dark shadows 214 / curse of the black pearl (2003) / at world's end (2007) / curse of the black pearl (2003) / dark shadows 245 / curse of the black pearl (2003) / the price of freedom, a.c. crispin / dark shadows 494 / rebecca (1940) / dark shadows 70 / rebecca (1940) / dark shadows 280 / curse of the black pearl (2003) / dark shadows 281 / dark shadows 425 / rebecca (1940) / curse of the black pearl (2003) / curse of the black pearl (2003) / rebecca (1940) / dark shadows 15

#web weaving #dark shadows 1966 #pirates of the caribbean #potc #rebecca 1940 #dark shadows #victoria winters #josette dupres #mrs de winter #all of this hinges on the COMPLETELY canon fact that the red dress was esme's. dwbi #is this decipherable to anyone but me. idk.#i haven't been able to get it out of my brain though. so. cursed web weavings be upon ye #✘; hermione can’t draw ( edits & art )#potc's genre is what i say it is and today it's gothic romance

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sentientsky · 5 months

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"I forgive you." It came out like a blood clot—like an artery dripping gore—like an oil spill. Crowley felt his shoulders rise, fall, fall, fall. The air between them hummed, the tension of six thousand years turning every atom electrified and silently screaming. Breath shuddered out of him, human and terrible and hollowing. He had never been more grateful for the swallowing darkness of his glasses, for the way they hid the centuries of pre-emptive grief and wicked terror. The air was suffocating, the once familiar bookshop turned catacomb.

And then, hating himself for it but seeing no other way forward, he spoke the words aloud. "Don't bother". And then he was out in the middle of Soho and the breeze was harsh against his too-warm skin. Stepping out into the sun felt like rising to the surface of some great ocean—the gasping, desperate feeling in his lungs, the sudden crash of noise. A woman across the street called for her wife. A car horn. A dog barking. Laughter, cruel and far-off. He pulled breath into lungs that didn't need it, winced as he felt slivers of cold drive into the soft flesh of his throat.

So that was it; five and a half million years of want and need and burning, aching somedays, cyphered pleas for "our side". All gone in the space between shaking half-breaths and a kiss still seared against his lips.

Fuck it.

He'd ruined it the first time, had forced them both to look directly into the sun, to face the thing they'd been dancing around for the better part of six millennia. He could do better—would do better. At a music café some years ago, a human had been playing the piano—something soft and slow. A jazz number, if the demon remembered correctly. But the remarkable thing wasn’t the song itself, but that they were playing it with their eyes closed. Aziraphale had pointed this fact out to Crowley, excitement lilting in his voice (even then, the sound had thrilled him, sent a stab of warmth through his heart). It was only after the final note reverberated through the room that the artist opened their eyes, blinking in the sudden rush of stage lights. Aziraphale, ever the music connoisseur, approached the musician. The pianist had explained that, for them, reading music never came easy. Rather, they learned by touch, by the way the keys felt on their fingertips. In fact, the only way they could play a song was with their eyes closed. If they watched their hands as they played or thought too hard about their next move, they got confused and tripped over the notes. Muscle memory, they’d said. It was muscle memory—the galactic familiarity of finding the space between seconds and prying—that guided Crowley now. He hadn’t done it since Not-Armageddon, but it came easily to him just the same. Time, you see, operates kind of like sound, like music; it loops and sways and carries forward in waves. If you know where to look (as the demon did), you can disrupt the flow, send it back towards the shore.

And this was what Crowley did now. Drawing his hands through the ripples of minutes and seconds and hours and millennia, time stilled around him. It was natural. Easy, like breathing or sleeping. Or loving Aziraphale. Slowly, the world turned backwards; humans retreating from whence they came, cars driving in reverse, the wind blowing in the opposite direction. If Heaven had taken notice of their "half-a-miracle", Crowley expected them to be able to see this from every edge of the universe. He likely only had one shot at this.

The world aligned itself once more, and time returned to its regular, steady gait—a rubber band snapping back into place. Something hummed in Crowley’s chest. Something bright and burning and the shape of a neutron star. Hands shaking, he reached for the handle of the bookshop and pushed. The bell above the door rang, clear and and too-loud in the morning air. Aziraphale whirled around, a trembling half-smile on his face. Oh. Oh, somebody, this was going to be harder than he thought. It felt like all the oxygen, all the courage, had been punched clear out of him "Crowley!" A beat, a shuddering breath. "Angel". He pressed his still-trembling hands into his pockets and strode forward. "Oh, Crowley, dear, I've been looking for you. I have excellent news." His stomach did a little flip, something deep within him growing hollow and fearful. "We have to talk," he managed to choke out around the heart still lodged in his throat. "Yes, I quite think we do. I have something to tell you." Aziraphale strode forward, all grins and beauty like a flickering star, all plasma and heat. He could practically feel the agitated warmth roll off of his angel. Crowley shivered. "I just met with the Meta—” "No. Wait," the demon held up a hand, pausing the rushing torrent of Aziraphale’s words. "Just let me say my thing, please." "My dear boy, just—oh, what is that lovely human expression—"

"Hold that thought," Crowley muttered. His eyes burned behind his glasses. Aziraphale looked pleasantly taken aback.

"Yes, how did you know? I—" "No." The angel's eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "No?" "No," he repeated, enunciating each letter with perfect clarity. He was going to do it right this time. He was going to keep him from leaving. He could be good. Right? "I’m gonna speak, and I want you to listen to me without interrupting, m'kay?" Words were building in the basin of his sternum now, pushing up on his airways. He was going to have to say it outright this time; no more waltzing around this frenzied galaxy of emotion. Willing his hands to steadiness, he pulled his glasses from his face, and tucked them into the collar of his shirt. Aziraphale's breath seemed to catch for a moment, meeting the ferocity of the demon's gaze head-on. A deer in headlights. And then, "Crowley, I really—" (Eons hurtled through his mind in a split second, the serrated knife's-edge of want like a being all its own. Aziraphale in the garden. Aziraphale in the tavern, on the cliffside, on the West End stage, in the Bentley, in the bookshop, in the very marrow of Crowley’s bones.) "I love you," he rasped, ichor writhing in his veins.

There, he'd said it., said it fully and completely, without so much as flinching. It was the same love he'd expressed for the past several thousand years in a million little, unspoken ways: an ox rib, a revolution, a church, a burning bookshop and the bottom of a glass and a lost best friend. A yellow Bentley, a lifetime of tethering his life to Aziraphale's, of trailing after him like a moth to flame—like a dog to its owner. "I love you," he pushed on. They were both looking directly into the sun again, Crowley urging them to stare straight into the heat of it all. The words were spilling out of him now, a heaving, thrashing current falling to the bookshop's hardwood floors. "I love you and you can't go to Heaven." Aziraphale froze, pupils blown wide and unblinking, for just a moment. Tension stretched out like a thread between them. And then he pulled in breath like a drowning man (who wasn't really a man at all), and tears were gathering in the corner of his eyes, and oh god, he'd made his angel cry. Fear and guilt and horror slammed into him at a million kilometers an hour and left him halfway between dizzy and nauseous. His fingers tensed at his side, desperate to do something, fix what he'd so obviously broken. Heaven would be on the front step any moment. It was too late, wasn't it? It was always too late. "Crowley—what?" Aziraphale breathed, mouth twisting into a brutal, terrible, heart-wrenching sob. Crowley ached, panic lancing through him like a knife. "I—I really, I can't. You could come with me." He stepped forward, moving to place his hands on the demon's shoulders. Crowley leaned into the touch, almost unconsciously. "Don't go," he croaked, tears beginning to prick his own eyes once again. This time he didn't reach for his glasses, didn't try to hide his fear. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. And then Aziraphale could hate him and his desperate, hungry, reverent love in the aftermath. "Don't go where I can't follow. Please".

His angels blue-grey eyes searched his own, and the weight of his gaze was impossibly heavy, pressing down on his chest like a river-smoothed rock. "Crowley, please. I don't understand. The Metatron said—" His palms found the sides of Crowley's throat, thumbs resting gently on the side of his jaw. Crowley sucked in a breath. "Angel," The scent of earl grey—of old books and soft tartan chairs. Aziraphale's hands were shaking. "I know what the Metatron said," he intoned, soft as rainfall. "You can't go. It's not—they won't change. You're better than that." "But you could be an angel. With me," he murmured, soft thumbs running across sharp cheekbones. "Be my second-in-command." "Don't want to be. Want t' be an us," he felt tears—traitorous, burning tears tip over the edge of his lashes and fall against his face. "Crowley, darling, please." A beat. "I love you." The bottom of the world dropped out from under him in that moment. Aziraphale loved him. He loved him and he'd said it aloud and now it was out there in the world and it was as though every nerve on his body was on fire. His angel pushed on, "Truly, I love you. I need you with me. Please, come with me. We can do good, I know it." He could never say no when his angel asked something of him. Especially not when his kind, gentle hands were holding him like something good, something precious. Especially not when Aziraphale had just admitted to needing him, had injected the word with so much warmth he thought his all-too-human heart might beat clear out of his chest. But there was a first (technically, second) time for everything. He drew in a heavy breath, and tilted his head, breaking his angel's hold on him. Aziraphale's hands—now empty, still shook. He made a soft whimpering sound, and Crowley ached to kiss his fingertips, banish the fear. But instead, he looked up towards the ceiling, to a God who was not there—who maybe had never been there at all. He felt the Heavenly Host drawing near, a sense of hollow emptiness, the scent of absence. This was the time of last-ditch efforts, of holding his heart out and hoping Aziraphale might take it as it was, bruised spots and all. "I can't. I won't. I need to be here, on Earth, with you." "Crowley, please. I don't think you understand what I'm offering you," he huffed. A residual shard of anger stabbed at him then, and he turned his gaze sharply back to the angel before him. "Oh, I understand perfectly well, angel. I'm fairly certain I understand better than you do." Aziraphale's mouth drew into a thin line, tears welling fresh in his eyes again. And still, Crowley ached. A beat. Something in the angel shifted, then, turned on its edge—the walls beginning to go up again, and it was just like it had been not fifteen minutes ago. He was watching the same moment play out over and over again; some cyclical, torrential nightmare. "I would like you to come with me, but," Aziraphale paused, voice breaking in the middle. "But I'm leaving, with or without you." And there it was, like it was predestined. Despite the love, despite the want, despite every shared bottle passed between them, every half-accidental touch and glance and whispered word—despite the way he would’ve let Aziraphale run a sword through his chest... It wasn't enough. It was never enough. They were re-enacting their old magic trick, right there in the bookshop, this time with Crowley staring down the barrel, letting Aziraphale pull the trigger. Aim for my mouth, but shoot past my ear. Aziraphale wasn't shooting past his ear. His bloody ribcage felt as though it might splinter apart. Wingbeats in the distance, a grief wide enough to drown the sea. Crowley reached down, pulled his sunglasses from their resting spot against his clavicle. And then the hunger in his eyes was once more hidden, and he was walking towards the door like a man headed to execution. "Crowley—" Aziraphale nearly keened, the wall crumbling for a split second. Without turning, Crowley said the only words he could think of. "I forgive you."

#did i steal some lines from one of my own fanfics??? yes. yes i did #because im tired and i don't want to come up with more metaphors for time warping rn. so hush <3 #good omens fanfiction #good omens angst #THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE 300 WORDS LONG #FUCK I FUCKED UP IM DEHYDRATED AND IM SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING AN ESSAY WHAT THE FUCK #idek what this is i literally have not edited one tiny little bit of this. i just came up with everything as i went along so i apologize #ignore the fact that the dialogue/pacing/ideas diverge from canon shhhhhh im too tired to look at source material #ehhh dunno how i feel ab this but whatever here's something (???)#take a shot every time i say chest or heart or ache or tremble #good omens #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 #aziraphale #aziracrow #go2 #ineffable lovers #ineffable wives #good omens season 2 #crowley angst #final fifteen #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x arizaphale #david tennant #michael sheen #ineffable divorce #good omens fic #good omens fanfic #gomens

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steverumlow · 7 months

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#brock rumlow #steve rogers #frank grillo #steve x rumlow #rumrogers #edits #reposted #the Tired way he looks at rumlow will never not be hilarious #also i'm never getting over the fact that by adding this scene for the sake of gimmick #they accidentally made it canon that steve knew rumlow first #like before he even met nat or anyone else #name basis already in 2012? what went on before this......

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the-lark-ascending69 · 10 days

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> be a robin buckley fan

> be lesbian

> project on robin

> look up "internalized homophobia robin buckley" on tumblr because it's cathartic

> 3/4 of the posts are about st3ddie or just about steve

#saw one in which steve was like ''no robin you don't understand! i have never been loved! i don't know how that feels like!''#i have several grips about that interpretation #going from the fact that's not true (dustin is clearly a big steve fan + robin herself cares about him deeply)#to the fact he probably wouldn't be introspective enough to voice his emotions this concisely not to mention he'd probably wouldn't take #a moment to realize he's never felt loved if that were the case. i mean. he could think that. when he's like 35 and more in touch with his #inner world. 19yo steve can't even get the hint that hitting on a girl who's already clearly taken (nancy) is wrong so like i don't expect #him to be that smart #but i can live with people having takes i don't agree with. my opinion doesn't have to be everyone else's opinion if you see steve that way #it fine #what bothered me was the fact he was saying this to a lesbian living in the 80s lmao #who tells him that 1) her whole life has been an error 2) she doesn't think he'd want to be close to her if he truly knew her and 3)#3) is paralyzed by fear of social suicide if she dares believe for even a second that the girl she likes may like her too #like i dont need people to do deep dives into robin lore and quote from memory lines from Surviving Hawkins abt robin feeling like she's #rotten inside. not supposed to have friends. feeling like something is wrong with her and that pushes people away etc etc #the fact that she's a lesbian should tell you enough abt who has the biggest chances of being loved 😭#also bothered me that it showed up when looking up posts abt internalized homophobia because?? where's the internalized homophobia therw #unless it's gay steve feeling bad abt it in an AU (as if canon robin didn't go through it)#like look im not bothered to find steve-centric content in the robin tag cos people are gonna tag her in posts mentioning her.#she's his friend.#but there are barely any posts at all about robin's internalized homophobia. like i saw 2 or 3. compared to all the steve or steddie ones #where's the love for my babygirl 😭😭#anti steddie #not really but y'know i don't wanna bother anyone #edit: the bit about there being like 3 posts on robin w internalized homophobia isn't exactly true. there are a few. but they still feel #drowned in st3ddie posts #like something isn't right here

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nemesis-is-my-middle-name · 4 months

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this is a subject change but also a question that for fandom-hermitage reasons i am genuinely curious as to the answers to, bc i don't think i've ever seen anyone have a conclusive hc about it. anyway,

if you're split between multiple regions choose the one that you lean more towards or that feels most likely to you to be the canon answer. also feel free to elaborate in tags/comments on your answer 👀

#the nemesis speaks #pla analysis #kalos/galar/paldea get squished into one bc i feel like none of them will be very popular picks and i've only got the 10 slots #anyway given that there's like. literally no overt hints we're given afaik (unless some minor npc has a lore drop in dialogue later on)#and her descendants are in sinnoh so no great evidence there. so it's fairly ambiguous #i feel like it might be kanto since a farm worker does mention there's a group of pokemon battlers there #otoh the ranger regions DO canonically have a very distinct current and historical relationship with pokemon to the mainline regions #and zisu's style is specifically described as a ''martial art'' involving pokemon #so they are also a distinct possibility if you believe they exist in the same continuity #and then there's the fact that she knows about cyllene's history being from hoenn. so it could also be there #i don't know. there's a few potential backstories i'm toying with for her but i'm curious what other people think #but idk!#woah when did they add the ability to edit poll posts???

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gabrielokun · 2 years

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#I still can't believe this was an actual scene #Mork is bold #but the fact that we never get to see them all together ever again what with that?!#and Tawan is still technically just an uncle in canon its a crime #asianLGBTQdramas #My Ride #My Ride The series #รักนาย My Ride #Tawan #Fame Chawinroj #Mork #Fluke Pongsakorn #MorkTawan #Mork x Tawan #mine edit #BL series #Thai BL #Gabriel makes stuff

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benetnvsch · 8 months

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Skk shippers act like the whole fandom hates them for no reason and they're so oppressed, lol.

Yea :'') Some of them (a lot of them) certainly are Something. I think A Lot of them just underestimate just How Much of the fandom is skk dominated when skk's role in the official media is just.. proportionately Not That Large (even I before starting bsd thought that it's be a central thing and was pleasantly surprised when it was not)

skk shippers have Everything and then some (see tags) so ig it just surprises me how often you see skk shippers shitting on or leaving backhanded comments on Literally Every Other Dazai ship's posts for not being/comparing to skk and then getting pissy when the ppl complain abt that behavior when they could just? ignore it and turn to the gold mines of skk content instead-

And I understand it isn't all shippers who do that but those denying it's happening entirely are also quite silly to me-

anyway, look at this screenshot of some skk shipper losing their shit after the sigzai dancing scene came out LMAO

'someone comfort me pls, I'm so pathetic' gives the same energy of the people who are like 'heh, I guess nobody here actually like me.. i'm such a loser aren't I?' lolz

#s/kk shippers are like that one meme the uhhh How Can I Make This About Me one #ALSO the uhhh #everything and then some comment is based on some of the most prevelaant s/kk 'facts' /quotes I've seen are not actually real #d/zai regrets not taking ch/ya with him when he left the mafia from the stage play? didn't happen actually- was made-up #This came from a twitter user tryna recap a stage play and misremembering :p #'the one I trusted as a boss...' yadada that quote from Beast? made up - didn't actually happen #I believe that one first came from a tiktok?#'human or not doesn't matter' quote from St0rmbringer? not offical #this came from someone's fan translation which ended up being a mistranslation :p #THE official art of em holding hands? EDITED #I just don't get how s/kk could have so much canon stuff and still half the stuff I see spread around is misinfo LMAOO #tbh this is all very interesting to me #I could study s/kk'ers under a miscroscope like lil bugs /neu #The Thing is fundamentally I think I don't even mind the ship I just thing 99% of the shippers have kind of built the ship off of #like- other people's content/the misinformation and so it's become so diluted from what it canonically is that its just impossible #for me to enjoy most of the content for how ooc it is :'')#but I enjoy it to myself #I have like several s/kk edits ideas and stuff that I will make and then keep to myself til I die #KFJHFKJF-#jkjk #ANYWAY I hope I censored the tags well enough so that it doesn't show up in search for any ship if it does pls yell at me im sorry :'00

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stormyoceans · 2 years

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When the time comes, you’ll meet someone who loves you for who you are.

Why don’t you find one for yourself? You just flirt around, not being serious.

I can’t. I’ve never found the one.

#this is a very rushed gifset and i kinda regret not putting dialogues in some gifs but #[waves hands]#it's now or never #anyway the fact that these two aren't officially canon is gonna haunt me until my dying day #just as im gonna haunt the gmmtv headquarters until they don't make a third installment with them as main #DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT WAS TO PICK WHAT SCENES TO USE #DO YOU KNOW JUST HOW MUCH THESE TWO TOUCH EACH OTHER #DO YOU KNOW HOW I HAVEN'T FEATURED ANY TIME MAITHEE FLIRTS WITH SOMEONE AND SEAN STOPS HIM #insanity #star in my mind #star in my mind the series #star and sky the series #seanmaithee #m: edit

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aelswiths · 1 year

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Hands are meant to be held

For @ivarthebadbitch, @kingslionheart, @volvaaslaug, @aethelreds, @aadmelioraa

#guys look at what I can do now!!!#you know what this means #the edits are coming #tlk aelswith #tlk alfred #aelswith x alfred #alfred x aelswith #the last kingdom #sevenkingsmustdie #your honor i love them #they mean so much to me #the fact that it is CANON that they hold hands all the time #I am OBSESSED #my heart #I am so normal about them

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the-acid-pear · 10 months

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I have yet to keep inspecting the sweepstakes, I need some air and food first, but I might as well share what I've been thinking about Mike today, because I heard of an interpretation saying Mike was a camera man for Spamton which ... Is very interesting. Like for me this makes me think of Mike as someone who admired Spamton, someone way smaller than him, definitely younger imo, who simply excitedly followed along with the orders given. I mean, up to a certain point. I mean this feeling is reinforced in the q&a when asked about Mike, that makes Spamton get very defensive, almost protective. In my eyes it almost creates this almost platonic familiar bond dynamic whatever. But like this is just a shot in the dark, bc what we know is, 3 lines, period. But if when chapter 3, 4 and 5 come out and Mike is there and I'm right about these things then I'm gonna feel like a god tbh.