⁠— I Don’t Know How To Love Him.

So, I started reading this fic, ‘Old Vines’.

And I fell in love with the author‘s version of Crowley who gives a sh*t about gender representation♥️

And I’m horrible with writing comments, but I enjoy doing fanart. So thank you for your wonderful story, @sevdrag ♥️ This is for you ☺️

The story is a true bliss to read so far and i’m greatly enjoying your work! (and now I want to try californian wines lmao)

Miranda from The Tempest and A Companion to Owls.

I remember some time ago a fan pointed out that this scene was incredibly reminiscent of “Miranda” by John William Waterhouse and added Aziraphale on the rock contrasted with the first painting (1875) However, another version of the same painting exists; featuring a red-hair Miranda, which was painted after in 1916.

The Miranda here is a character from William Shakespeare's The Tempest. She was detained on an island, together with her father, Prospero, for almost twelve years. This happened as a result of having been exiled from Milan by Prospero's power-seeking brother, Antonio.

The scene plays very blatantly with the word “exile” and Aziraphale fearing being cast into Hell (exiled from Heaven) and Crowley’s clear banishment from his position as an angel.

The picture has been painted in cold (red hair) and warm tones (blond), playing very much into the tones we get to see in A Companion to Owls. Aziraphale’s side on the rock, with the more conventional, peaceful look and Crowley’s with the rocks on the background.

A ship slices through the waves, causing a feeling of imminent loss; notice how that is exactly Aziraphale’s placement on the frame.

Unlike the paintings though, in Good Omens we get a view of both sides, of before and after the storm. The color palettes combine as both Aziraphale and Crowley are fitted into the frame.

Concluding with the wonderful shot directly mirroring their color palettes (sunnier on Aziraphale’s side; shadows on Crowley’s) again and reversing the order of the Miranda paintings (not chronologically, as we see red-hair Miranda appear later on, but in terms of placement and coloring).

what abled ppl think is a massive problem for disabled folks: 13 year old on the internet faking something

what is actually a massive problem for disabled folks: "well you don't LOOK disabled, are you sure you're not faking? I'm not giving you accommodations until you PROVE you're not faking. Please give me, a stranger, your medical info and explain your condition to me in detail so I know you're not faking and only then will I respect or take you seriously"

Good Omens | 1.01 In The Beginning

Forever (6/26/22)

•

Can you believe I made this a year before s2

not where the storyline ends by foolishlovers (T, 14k, complete)

This Christmas, the only thing keeping Crowley going is the release of his favourite romance author’s latest novel, scheduled to launch on Christmas Eve. Yet his already sour mood takes another turn for the worse when he’s forced to conduct a last-minute job interview just before the holidays. Enter Aziraphale: the applicant who is utterly unqualified for the marketing role at the publishing house. Somehow, however, he manages to break through Crowley's carefully maintained indifference—if only for the duration of their meeting. After all, they're bound to part ways after the interview, never to cross paths again. But amid missed opportunities and holiday chaos, Crowley is about to discover that this Christmas still has a few surprises left in store for him.

after a george barbier illustration….

I wrote something and it didn't really seem long enough to post on ao3 but like... vaguely adult content I guess? I've still not figured how that works (or doesn't) on Tumblr. so have it under the cut. short ineffable phonecall about wall slams

"are you on your way?" Aziraphale asked cheerfully down the phone by way of hello. 

"oh. er. Angel, look, I've had a really shitty day, I think I'm going to stay in my flat and watch shitty TV until I fall into a shitty sleep. I think there's a new series of Love Island on." 

Aziraphale had no idea what that was but he didn't think it sounded like particularly good viewing. "if you're going to wallow and sulk, you can do it at mine. I've got wine, and you can tell me about your awful day and I can make very sympathetic noises." 

"no. I would be extremely poor company." Crowley made a point of switching on the TV and turning it up loud enough it could be heard through the phone. 

"oh I've been tolerating your moods for thousands of years," Aziraphale replied airily. 

"Angel." Crowley gritted his teeth. "I am trying. to tell you. that I don't WANT. to take my bad mood out. on you." 

the pause that followed was unreasonably long. Crowley felt his layers of irritation grow; he was trying to do a considerate thing, trying to grow as a person. if Aziraphale didn't appreciate his efforts he could go stick it. and if he didn't stop being so difficult he was going to find out exactly where in some graphic detail.

"but..." Aziraphale began awkwardly. "I rather think the angelic thing to do would be to absorb your bad mood for you. if you let it fester out into the world, that would be terrible, wouldn't it? but I, well I am a creature of, of love and such like, you couldn't harm me by being grumpy." 

this was utter bullshit and it made Crowley's teeth itch. what the fuck was he doing now? was he actually angling for Crowley to snap at him? 

"I don't mind. I could leave all the doors ajar so you could slam them. I... I'll stand near the wall so you can pin me up against it." 

there was another intense silence, but this time it was Crowley's doing. oh, he was. he was deliberately goading him into this. why would the angel want to be roughed up? completely unwanted, a voice whispered into Crowley's brain: maybe he's into that. angels aren't into that sort of thing, Crowley hissed back in his thoughts. and definitely, absolutely, neither am I. 

"I think it would make you feel better," Aziraphale added very quietly. 

Crowley remembered the last time he had done that very thing; in Tadfield, in an ex Satanic nunnery. he'd pressed his hips up against Aziraphale, just to hold him in place of course, and he'd briefly thought, and then thought it was ridiculous, that the angel might just have had an erection at the time. angels definitely don't get erections from being roughed up in Satanic nunneries. 

"just to be clear," Crowley said, and he'd already switched off the TV and picked up his car keys, "are you doing this to be self sacrificing or because you're... you're..." oh Jesus Christ, Mary, Joseph and a stable full of donkeys, he was actually going to say this out loud because if he didn't say it out loud he was going to spontaneously discorporate. "because you're... getting off on it?" 

there was a very guilty silence. eventually, Aziraphale replied, "are you judging me?" 

"yes. massively. hugely." 

"only I did rather think that time in Tadfield that you definitely got hard holding me against that wall." 

the sound of the Bentley roaring to life rattled out of Aziraphale's old rotary telephone. Freddie Mercury launched into Tie Your Mother Down. "Angel, I'll see you in five minutes. think of something incredibly irritating to say to me as a greeting." and with that Crowley hung up the phone and put his foot down.