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#just crowley series
eviebane · 5 months
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Just Crowley - part 1
part 2
That's it. you guys wanted this @ritz-writes @thedevildeer @aziraphilia @mainstreetmissy
Enjoy Good Omens except it's literally just Crowley. Broken down into multiple parts to fit Tumblr because YouTube is a copyrighting killjoy. Clips are short due to Tumblr's 500MG limit
I'll keep posting a new part everyday until either we reach the end or God strikes me down.
Want to download it? You should be able to right click on the video & download on PC, not sure how to download on a phone. I won't be mad, it's not watermarked for a reason, go ahead bud, make some cool edits. tag me so i can like them
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nipuni · 8 months
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😔 Oh Crowley..
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insanesonofabitch · 7 months
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Thinking about how the plot of season 6 wouldn’t make sense if you do not acknowledge the fact that Cas and Crowley working together was an affair, or at least it felt like so to Dean.
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Majority of the people that I heard saying that they disliked that conflict, say that it doesn’t make sense because Dean should’ve understood Cas’ point of view. And that Dean has also worked with demons before, more than once, out of desperation. Which is why he doesn’t have the right to be mad. And I understand that. But it wasn’t about working with demons. No. Not really. The thing that hurt Dean the most about Cas’ choice was how he chose to ask for help from Crowley, instead of him. Cas chose Crowley over him.
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“Look me in the eye, and tell me you’re not working with Crowley…”
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“You’re in it with him? You and Crowley?? You’re going after purgatory together??? You have, huh? This whole time!”
“No, you had a choice. You just made the wrong one.”
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“I was there. Where were you?”
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The plot literally doesn’t make sense if you do not acknowledge destiel or crowstiel or deancascrowley. And I think that’s insane, especially for a show from 2005.
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p4nishers · 9 months
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"I'm a little bemused as to why crowley would risk destruction for you, you don't seem his type at all" that was. actually a thing they said. like that's a thing that was written in the script and said by an actor on good omens. then michael sheen had the absolute AUDACITY to raise his eyebrows like a fucking bitch who knows exactly what's crowley's type and that it's only ever been him. like!!! this is too gay even for me holy shit
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yourangle-yuordevil · 2 months
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(Sweet Orangerie Part.1) Headcanon that during the ✨Bridgerton times ✨ Aziraphale was intensely (but secretly!!) flirting with Crowley...  Crowley, on the other hand, was completely clueless ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯
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crawley-fell · 5 months
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Ineffable husbands + grindr messages (part 3)
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meep-meep-richie · 4 months
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let's hope 2024 will be kinder to us
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exacutor-nb · 6 months
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Wait a minute-
One of the cut flashbacks/minisode was supposed to be Aziraphale and Crowley in the Golden Age of Piracy right? Well if you recall from season 2 episode 1 Aziraphale says “I did the I was wrong dance in: 1650, 1793, and 1941.”
Guess what took place in the 1650’s
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That’s right- folks, Aziraphale did something dumb during the Golden Age of Piracy which was why he had to the apology dance. :3
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ducks-love-peas · 4 months
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meanwhile, Crowley:
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Good Omens 2 | ⭑favorite moments⭑ 2/?
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Another quick Crowley thought post
Something I think about probably way too often is when Crowley and Aziraphale are on the bus in S 1 E 1 ('In the Beginning'), I believe after reporting to their head offices, and Crowley says a gentle, extra soft "Yeah?" when Aziraphale says Crowley's name. Like I get that in general they were trying to not be overheard and would therefore be speaking softly, but something about the way Crowley said it seemed different. It was like the way someone talks to someone they love, not just two people (in this case, celestial beings) who happen to know each other. Has anyone else noticed this? Am I just imagining things?
My apologies if this has been discussed and I've just missed it.
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midnights-dragon · 7 months
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crowley getting scolded by that old woman in the nazi zombies minisode for breaking the whiskey bottles will never not be funny
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eviebane · 4 months
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Just Crowley - part 7
part 6 | part 8
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aduckwithears · 7 months
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"Oh, she absolutely did."
Good Omens S2/Ep3
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annualwreckage · 8 months
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“crowley is a bottom” “crowley is a top” literally doesn’t matter the only thing that matters is that he’s a sub
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angelsdean · 1 year
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imagine cas annoys the empty so much again it spits him back out except...it spits him out into the wrong universe (and time) and that's how *our* cas ends up in the winchesters universe. and at first he doesn't realize it's not the right time or universe and he goes looking for dean and instead finds the Lebanon bunker closed off and eventually finds john + mary and he thinks it's his universe's past john and mary and he tells them he needs help to get back to his time (bc his grace is still too low). he tells them he's from the future and needs to get back to someone and he pulls out his wallet and shows them a picture of dean and they're like "whoa whoa we know that guy!!!!" and cas is like, "that's impossible. he hasn't been born yet." and they're like "no no he was here. he helped save our universe. he's from another universe and he came here from heaven because he's dead and there was this young guy with him, jack? and an older guy, robby or bobby or something...." and cas is just slowly losing his mind, all the color draining from his face because first of all what do you mean he's dead?!!! and then all the other universe stuff and then jack? and bobby??? and yea anyways they team up to help get cas to dean and along the way hmmm what if jack pops in again....only this time he's acting even weirder than before, because chuck / the god power are gaining more control / corrupting him more. and jack becomes the big bad, thwarting their attempts to get cas to dean, and wreaking havoc on their universe, so the winchesters squad help them save jack and then dean and cas can eventually get their proper reunion (which everyone in the winchesters squad is now nvested in, especially carlos, number one deangirl and destiel stan) oh and the whole time they also do not know dean is mary and john's AU kid because cas never gives a last name just keeps calling him dean. and so john also grows invested in seeing these two people get their happy ending and BOY would it be cathartic for dean to see a version of his father who is so happy to see dean happy with a man-shaped person<3
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cineresis · 7 months
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Angels in America
It's amazing how fast an evening at your favorite club can be ruined by someone keeling over and frothing at the mouth. The band never quite gets back into the swing of things afterwards.
"Angel," sighed one of the men, or nearest approximants, at the table next to mine, "why is it that I can never go anywhere with you without stumbling across a body?"
"Oh, come now," said his partner, a soft, fluffy confection in caramel and cream, rising hastily to make his way toward the source of the commotion. The first gentleman, dark, lanky, and excruciatingly chic, got up to follow him. "It's hardly every time."
I stayed where I was for now, casting my gaze around the room as I went over my memory of the past twenty or thirty minutes. Too many people passing close enough to slip something into the victim's drink, too many others to watch at the same time, too many more opportunities to poison him outside my field of view. I was a detective, not God.
"Stumbling upon, once. Literally. Do you know what it's like to have to clean up after that sort of thing? It takes a personal toll."
"Hush, Crowley," chided "Angel". "People can hear you, and you know how queer they get about these things. Ooh, yes, that's strychnine, all right," he added cheerfully, pulling a small vial from his vest pocket and tipping it into his handkerchief. "Nasty stuff."
I got up. As I approached, I caught the faint, unmistakable chemical sweetness of ether fumes and gave them a wide berth, choosing instead to inspect the victim's plate and glass before turning to scan the room from this perspective.
"Now, just what might you be doing?" drawled Crowley.
I looked him over, too, while I was at it. In Crowley's case, this involved a lot of looking and not much over; he was easily more than six feet tall, even while slouching rakishly. The snake tattoo on his right temple suggested certain things about him. The dark glasses that he hadn't removed since he'd entered just suggested questions, since I highly doubted he was blind. "I'm a detective," I said, leaving the obviously at the end of that sentence to implication. "What are you doing?"
This response seemed to delight him. "So are we," Crowley answered, and grinned. "But if you want to get specific about it, I'm keeping you distracted while my friend saves this man's life. Let's see your license, then."
As I took it out, keeping at least one eye on him and his partner, Angel called out to the rubbernecking crowd around us, "I need someone here to run and call the nearest hospital, and a couple of strong men to help get this poor fellow someplace dark and quiet to rest. Best use one of the tablecloths for a stretcher," he added to the first volunteer who stepped forward.
Crowley leaned in closer to study my license. "Drake Silas Donovan," he read off. "'Silas', really?"
"What about it?"
"I've just always wondered what kind of parent would name their kid Silas."
"The kind who had a grandfather named Silas," I replied coolly, snagging my license back. "Your turn."
He obliged. Anthony J. Crowley, it read, licensed in London since 1905, the year before mine. I wondered how long he'd been at this; he looked too young for his apparent age, but then I looked too old for mine. "A. J. Crowley," I read his signature aloud. "Get asked if you're any relation every time, or just most?"
There's a certain motion a person's head makes when they roll their eyes. Crowley's was making it. "The man's an embarrassment to the side," he griped. "I made my name legitimately."
"And your friend?" It wasn't as if I couldn't put two and two together. There's a certain type of person who's got both a nose for trouble and the brains to prepare for it; if it walks, talks, and thinks like a dick, it probably is one. It was just that I wasn't in the habit of trusting people, and I'd be a real schmuck to neglect basic due diligence on the guy purportedly surrounded by bodies. 
Detectives are no better or worse than any other person. They just think it's usually more interesting to solve crimes than commit them.
"Oh, he's as legitimate as it gets." Crowley turned to his companion, who was getting to his feet, brushing his clothes off fussily. Beside him, the two volunteers hoisted the unconscious victim onto a tablecloth spread across the floor, momentarily dislodging the ether-soaked cloth before Angel caught it and laid it carefully back in place over the victim's nose and mouth. "Aren't you, Aziraphale?"
Angel — "Aziraphale"? — looked up, startled. "Pardon?"
"Mr. Donovan here wants to see your detective's license," Crowley explained, enunciating his words with malice aforethought.
"Oh! Yes. Of course I always have that with me. Now just where did I..." He started patting down his pockets, stopped suddenly, and took a lovely calfskin card holder out of his coat. "Ah. Here it is."
Beaming, he passed it to Crowley, who passed it to me with the comment, "You'll find everything in order, I'm sure."
I glanced down at the card, then back up at Angel. "Am I supposed to call you A. Z. Fell or Aziraphale?" I asked, pronouncing the Z correctly as zed.
"A. Z. Fell is how 'Aziraphale' is pronounced in the King's English," said Crowley blandly, affecting a cut-glass Oxford accent on the last phrase. His partner seemed pleased by this comment, rather than annoyed.
"I'm afraid my progenitor bestowed me with a rather unwieldy given name," Fell admitted, raising fascinating questions about just how many syllables the British peerage could fit on a birth certificate when they really tried. "Aziraphale just sounds so much more euphonious, don't you think?" Crowley was right; I couldn't tell whether Fell had meant to say A. Z. Fell or the de-accented gloss. He'd lengthened the half-syllable between zed and Fell to a full vowel, but some people said zetta.
"I wouldn't know," I replied, handing the license back to Crowley, who was nearest. When Fell didn't take my bait, I added, "Lucky that you happened to have ether handy. I wouldn't like to imagine what might've happened if you'd decided to stay in tonight." I also lied when I said sorry, and when I swore to tell the whole truth and nothing but. Little white lies are the oil in the gears of civilization.
"Oh, I always carry that, too," Fell explained earnestly. "One gets into the habit after one's first run-in with strychnine, and of course ether has so many useful applica—"
"I wouldn't, angel," Crowley interrupted, sounding very amused. "Mr. Donovan thinks you're the one behind this."
"Oh," said Fell, nonplussed. "Gosh. Well, I — I suppose I can't blame him. He doesn't know me from Adam, after all, and has no reason to trust me — I did warn you about giving people funny ideas, Crowley, honestly. Of course," Fell turned to me, laying an elegant hand across his chest, "if you were to search me, you would find only a small collection of antidotes — oh, but a habitual poisoner would probably carry those, too, especially if he were the sort of voyeur with a penchant for playing the hero. I certainly wouldn't be convinced of my innocence. Yes, I can certainly understand whatever suspicion you might feel towards me, however misplaced it may be."
Crowley watched this thought process with an expression somewhere between fascination and agony. "Well, at least now he probably thinks that if you'd done it, you'd have been caught by now," he remarked, presumably because he was thinking the same thing. "You'll have to excuse my friend," Crowley added to me. "He still believes that the innocent have nothing to fear. Somehow."
"First time visiting?" I guessed.
Fell's bemusement answered my question before he did. "Pardon?"
"Never mind."
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