tarttvs
they…sm o o ch…
If you put it that way… Heaven couldn’t actually object if I was thwarting you. No. Be a real feather in your wing.
niceprophecies
good-omens-fanart
Good omens!
I spent over 40 hours on this. Every spare moment of the week I had I worked on this. I have never put so much time and effort into a piece of art, so any love would be much appreciated.
@neil-gaiman ‘s good omens left a huge impact on me. it has the best queer representation Ive ever seen and the love that was put into making this mini series is amazing. I am truly touched by what I watched. As a trans man I was truly moved by how Crowley and Aziraphale were portrayed. Seeing male characters (well, male presenting, since they are technically gender less) break the usual stereotypical male tropes really helped me deal with some internalized toxic masculinity I have because of dysphoria and my fear of not being ‘man’ enough.
I know I mostly joke around on my blog, but I wanted to take some time to thank everyone who worked on this show, and really put some effort into a piece I am truly proud of.
rafaelafranzen
simply-brightly-zee
The engagement, when it happens, is mostly an accident.
They’re at Newt and Anathema’s wedding, pleasantly tipsy on elderflower wine—normally too sweet for Crowley’s taste, but it’s a wedding, seems bad form to be picky. Besides, Aziraphale says it pairs nicely with dessert. Crowley’s lost in thought, bemusedly watching the Them attempt to teach Newt how to dance, smiling abstractly as Aziraphale prattles cheerfully beside him.
He’s in that agreeable state of mind where he hums or nods approvingly at the spaces Aziraphale leaves in his monologue, not so much taking things in as stashing them in his mental inbox to read later. In truth he’s deeply involved in a fantasy where Aziraphale is his date to this wedding, instead of his platonic plus one, and that they held hands during the ceremony and might play footsie under the table once they’ve had another glass or two. So it’s probably no surprise what happens next.
“Have you ever thought about it? Getting married, I mean.”
In his right mind, or in his sober mind, or perhaps even in a mind drunk on something less sweet, Crowley would recognize the question as abstract. But here, surrounded by so much love even Crowley can feel it, with Aziraphale next to him and a third—fifth?—bottle of elderflower wine half-empty on the table between them, with visions of the life they could have together dancing before his eyes, Crowley makes a considering noise and his mouth opens automatically without input from his brain. “Might as well, really. No one else I’d rather spend eternity with.”
There’s a clatter as Aziraphale’s dessert fork hits the plate, then the table, then the floor. All at once reality reasserts itself.
Crowley swallows. He wants nothing more than to run out into the night, possibly with the rest of that bottle for company. Instead he turns and meets Aziraphale’s gaze.
Aziraphale’s cheeks are pink with more than just the wine, his eyes bright with that look he gets, sometimes, the one Crowley knows his mirror more often than not. The sunglasses serve more than one purpose. He doesn’t look at all upset, Crowley realizes. He looks—he looks—
He takes Crowley’s hand under the table, perhaps because for once, he’s run out of words.
Warmth rushes through Crowley’s body, settling in his chest, his face, the soles of his feet. He clears his throat. “Assuming that’s not going too fast for you, angel.”
“Do you know,” Aziraphale says, interlacing their fingers, “I rather think I can keep up.” He pauses, and his eyes get kind of sly, and G—Sat—Someone, Crowley loves him. “As long as you promise to help with the paperwork.”
niceprophecies
heimishtheidealhusband
I’m so surprised that so many people are reading Aziraphale’s “I’m so sorry to hear it” in response to Crowley’s “I lost my best friend” as him being a totally inept moron with zero ability to read people, when that couldn’t be farther from the truth, as far as I can see???
It was a super British reaction to an unabashed emotional outpouring. It’s an I can’t deal with this right now stiff upper lip keep calm and carry on error message of the brain.
He knows exactly what Crowley means. And when I say exactly, I don’t just mean that Aziraphale knows that Crowley is saying he is his best friend. That much he already knew. That’s par for the course by now. What he realises is that Crowley is essentially saying that because he lost Aziraphale, his life just stopped being worth anything. That he had given up, decided not to save himself by running away, and couldn’t even try to save the world, because without Aziraphale the world didn’t seem worth saving. Without Aziraphale, he didn’t have the strength or capacity or will to save the world, or himself. That because he had lost Aziraphale he was just going to sit in a bar and drink himself into a stupor and wait to die.
Aziraphale knew exactly what Crowley meant, 100%. And he was in no state whatsoever to even begin to deal with that. So he said “So sorry to hear it”, and took a second to put his heart back in his chest, and then kept calm and carried on, because he had a world to save. He had a Crowley to save.
I’m as much of a fan as anyone for affectionately calling Crowley and Aziraphale idiots, but in actuality neither of them are, at all. Aziraphale is very intelligent, including emotionally intelligent. He’s wilfully naive which manifests as idiocy sometimes, but that’s not the same thing. He wasn’t being a dolthead with no understanding of anything, in this scene. He was being his deeply emotionally-intelligent self, and just not having the time or mental space to deal with what he read in Crowley’s words. And Crowley responded to that accordingly, too. They know each other too well, and they are both too clever for any such misunderstanding.
thegoodomensdumpster
Another PSA: this is my blog, therefore I reblog whatever catches my fancy, and so far it’s mainly been soft and warm or sad angst and interesting analysis, BUT I do like body horror and the occasionnal NSFW ( when it comes to fics in particular, it’s kinda unavoidable ).
When fics are tagged properly on their AO3 page and don’t catch people off guard I usually don’t tag them anymore than that, but I try to be careful the rest of the time.
What I mean is:
- if i haven’t tagged something that should have been tagged, don’t hesitate to tell me
- but do not expect this blog to be devoided of gore or NSFW content, even though they are rare. Don’t hesitate to blacklist terms that you know are associated with content that make you uncomfortable. Take care.
meatball-surgeon
Anonymous asked:
Ooof that's just bad practice on their part. You place your hand there at most. I was trained to wait to be asked outside of RSI situations and tbh the majority of the time, I let who ever is intubating find the spot and take over because central pressure doesn't always work best depending on certain people's anatomy. Sounds like they need a refresher lol. I'd tell you to mention it but I'm assuming you don't want to rock the boat (and I feel you on Shit Magnet status 😶).
^THIS!!
yesterdaysprint
noirandchocolate
The Conjurers have a very small Guildhouse annoyingly close to Unseen University in Ankh-Morpork, but it’s really more of a club house–there is no such thing as a professional conjurer, it being more of an evenings and weekends hobby for respectable men who do other jobs during the day. They tend to be jolly and fat and well balanced and inclined to drop their aitches and drink beer and, besides the usual cries of ‘hey presto!’, pepper their normal conversation with terms like 'many moons ago’ and 'for my sins.' They go around with sad thin women in spangly tights and unsuitable feathers in their hair; it’s impossible to imagine a conjurer without one (as in the Amazing Bonko and Doris). And they infuriate wizards by not realizing how lowly they are in the magical pecking order and by telling them jokes and slapping them on the back. They are very popular in Ankh-Morpork–knowing something is done by trickery and sleight of hand is somehow much more intriguing than boring old magic.
Terry Pratchett and Stephen Briggs, “Turtle Recall: The Discworld Companion So Far”
fishyfishyfishtimes
