#I don’t believe in coffee theory

[ineffablelunatics]

Almond and Barley…

Almond syrup is also known as Orgeat syrup(which most of the time now includes other things like orange blossom water or rose water). It used to be made with barley and almond blend. Thats where the name comes from.

“The word “orgeat” has its origins in the French word for barley, as the original syrup was a mix of barley and almonds.”

Where does barley come in Good Omens specifically with Aziraphale?

[brideavocado]

This is my theory about Crowleys past life as an angel!!

We got a lot of signs that Crowley used to be at least an important angel in heaven.

Here for example we see how he can open Gabriel’s file in heaven. Muriel explains that you’d have to be either a throne, a Dominion, or above. That is why she couldn’t open it, since she’s in 37th class and she doesn’t have the password. When Crowley then opens it he explains to Muriel that he hasn’t always been a demon and that they never change their passwords. That must mean he was an important angel, since he had the password. That means he was either a throne, a Dominion or above when he was still an angel. Maybe he even was the archangel?

We’ve also gotten signs that he didn’t like being in heaven. He doesn’t like hell either and he doesn’t want to be on either side but there’s something different about his past with heaven. I think the reason he doesn’t like heaven is because of something he experienced when he was an angel, or as I said before, maybe archangel.

In this scene when Aziraphale is trying to get Crowley to rule heaven with him Crowley doesn’t want to at all as we all know. I know the reason is that he thinks hell and heaven is toxic and he wants them to be on their own side but I think there’s something more to it. That line he said in the gifs really made curious. I think the reason he said he thinks he understand much better than Aziraphale is because he has experienced being an archangel himself. And I think the experience was bad for him. I believe that’s why he talks how toxic both heaven and hell are and he knows it’s even more toxic to be an archangel. I don’t see why he would say that if he hadn’t experienced it himself.

Call me crazy, but I also think he used to know Metatron in some way before, and if he was an archangel it was probably through that. I also think that something happened that made Metatron hate Crowley. Probably right before the fall or the reason why he fell. It could also just be because of Crowley being a demon now but he’s not acting like that to any other demon and they’ve fallen as well. We get a few signs that Metatron doesn’t like Crowley and he wouldn’t have a reason unless he knew him when he was an angel.

This for example, which is probably a reference to the questions Crowley asked that made him a demon.

Now over to when he offered Aziraphale to be an archangel. I don’t believe in the coffee theory but I’m sure he has some kind of plan with it. Obviously the coffee has something to do with it but I don’t the it’s the reason everyone else thinks. I believe that he wanted to separate Crowley and Aziraphale because he doesn’t want an angel associating with a demon, especially Crowley I think.

Just look and his expression towards Crowley before leaving to tell Aziraphale the news. He has some kind of beef going on with Crowley. I think Metatron knew that Crowley wouldn’t want to go to heaven. And that’s why he offered Aziraphale to make him an angel, he was sure that Crowley wouldn’t allow it. On the scene after Crowley has left and Metatron enters the bookshop to take Aziraphale with him he says “how did he take it” which is a weird sentence. It sounds like something you would ask of you knew the answer was that he took it bad. Otherwise he would’ve said “what did he say” or something.

So I think Crowley used to be an archangel and Metatron has some kind of beef with him and doesn’t like him. Also Metatron says something that made me curious in the last episode when we get to see the trial heaven had against Gabriel when they decided that he wasn’t going to be an archangel anymore. When Gabriel first thought he was going to hell Metatron answered he wasn’t. Metatron also said “For one prince of heaven to be cast out into the outer darkness makes it a good story. For it to happen twice makes it look like there is some kind of institutional problem” obviously Gabriel would be the second Prince of heaven to fall. And i’m guessing the first one was Lucifer. But we do know Crowley fell at the same time as Lucifer and that he was going against god with him before they fell. The reason he went with Lucifer is probably that Metatron didn’t listen to his questions/suggestions. (I’m guessing he asked Metatron since Metatron is the voice of god). So that could also be the why Metatron doesn’t like him btw.

I would also just like to point out, I do not think that he was a supreme archangel, since that was probably Lucifer. I just think he was an archangel, like for example Michael and Uriel.

That was my theory, let me know what u guys think.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Looks like that video is about a month & a half after The Trade and trevors broken ankle 😣

re: this video… anon 😭 i had suspicions but it is so much worse to have them confirmed that really was like. trevor’s first Public Appearance without jamie AND post-broken ankle which is traumatic in and of itself no wonder every beat reporter was like ‘oh yeah trevor’s just devastated’

wouldn’t you be miserable too if your best friend just got traded and your body betrayed you and what if it was maybe all your fault!!!

[that-angels-demon]

Maybe I’m slow on the draw and everyone connected these dots already, or maybe I’ve just realized how important Jim’s arc is to Aziraphale’s decision at the end of season two.

Not only does Aziraphale meet a completely new, kind person in Gabriel without his memories, but when he finally regains them, he doesn’t revert to his cold self. Gabriel is a reformed person, finally having formed his own opinions outside of the strict guise of Heaven.

And Aziraphale finally realizes that even the worst of the angels have the ability to change.

The happy couple being allowed to disappear and live their eternity together is the proof he needs to believe the others may be swayed as well.

And the Metatron’s timing in all of this is horrifically perfect, catching Zira in a vulnerability that has just formed, and pulling him right back into the cycle of abuse.

[beautifulenemychild]

NOT THE COFFEE

[whodancy]

as if he needed holy water to hurt him anyway 🫥🫥🫥🫥🫥🫥🫥🫥🫥

Hello Mr Gaiman. I’m not sure that you’ll answer this question but it least I can say that I’ve tried.

So I’ve been rewatching season 2 today and I noticed that there was no holy water during the battle in the bookshop. Aziraphale can’t make any water holy? Or is he too good to use it against demons?

Why would he have holy water in his bookshop? It could hurt Crowley.

[opera--ghosts]

god knew i would be too powerful so he decided to make me hyperfixated on medias with the most media illiterate fans

[silkentine]

All I could think while drawing Nami was, “Wouldn’t you like to know, weatherboy?” And, of course, with Robin I was thinking, “save a horse… 🥵”

Design Notes and other opining below the cut:

For Nami, I wanted to go for a mix of cocky Jersey mafia newbie and surfer boy. I like to think that some of the horrendous outfit choices that Sanji makes (especially in the movies) were actually picked out by Nami. She’s the shopper!!! But yeah, the vibrant swim trunks and graphic tees just scream Nami. I also wanted to put him in a wetsuit/rash guard because I think that’s a sexy look so sue me if you hate it. You cannot argue with me that Nami doesn’t wear swimsuits as clothes.

He’s toned but not as muscular as Robin or Luffy (for example) because he isn’t a front-line fighter, I want him to maintain the same kind of role that Nami has in the animanga. He’s the best navigator in the world!! I couldn’t decide if I wanted to change the violent tendencies that Nami has, but ultimately I think he’d still give the more deserving members of the crew a healthy wallop (although I might portray it more cartoonishly). Boy Piece!Nami still grew up under Arlong’s authority so he spent a lot of his childhood walking on eggshells to protect his village and his brother, Nojiko, so I think he never really got to learn “you’re not supposed to hit people just because they frustrate you” lesson. I gave him a shark-tooth necklace because surely Arlong had a few loose teeth to spare once Luffy took her down. Victory spoils LOL

If he can get the girls to stop wrestling and sit down quietly for a while, he likes to host card games (with betting, of course) or watch the clouds while sipping whatever fruity cocktail Sanji whips up. I believe that Canon!Nami is a total lesbian, and I can’t possibly envision a Nami who doesn’t like women so Boy Piece!Nami is bi. I am, of course, a Namivivi truther and Vivi is also a man in this AU. I don’t hate Sanami within this dynamic though… lots to think about.

Okay!!! All-shipper mindset aside, let’s talk Robin. I gave him long hair because 1) it’s hot and 2) I think it makes him look like Dragon. Yeahhh, I subscribe to the Luffy and Robin are half-siblings theory because I think it’s funny and makes some sense. Crocodile is 100% Luffy’s Mom in this AU and I think Robin knows it LOL

For his outfits, I wanted to lean a bit more Indiana Jones where I could; he’s still primarily cowboy inspired though. For the main look, I went with the Skypeia color palette hehe, I think Robin looks good in yellow. I did some flower-petal shaped color blocking on his chaps because I think it’s cute and subtle. I really love that the powers of the Hana-Hana-no-mi are like… unexpected for a “flower flower” fruit and I think Robin would be more aware that juxtaposition as a guy. You might also be wondering about the gloves and I initially just had it for his cowboy look but I decided to put them on all the outfits up until the events of Enies Lobby. Canon!Robin has a really difficult childhood and I think it’s exacerbated by the fact that she’s a girl on her own. If Robin was a boy, he’d probably have an easier time living on his own but would be a lot less emotionally open. All of these elements combine to make him want that physical barrier between his real hands and the world. Once he can trust that the Strawhats will always be there for him, he’s more willing to be more physically open.

I also think it’d be cute if he was much more of a coffee drinker :3c I see Canon!Robin as a connoisseur who likes a well-brewed espresso but Boy Piece!Robin needs a cup of joe (no matter its quality) every chance he can get. So I drew him with his special #1 ARCHAEOLOGIST mug.

It would make me so happy if you left your thoughts in the tags or replies!! Even if you hate everything about them, I just really like engagement hahaha. I’m thinking girl Usopp is next despite the poll results because she’s on my mind rn (don’t hold me to this, LOL I’m fickle). I’m making these for fun so I just wanna make designs in the order that interests me the most. Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog to see all the genderbends I have so far. And happy pride!!!

[ainspams]

Y’all liked my “actually Emmrich is a good bf choice” analysis so here’s one for mi vida Luca

Yk how people say cats liking you is the perfect test of understanding consent? That’s what Lucanis is.

Man was literally in the trenches, had the threat of his blood taken hostage over his head AND a Spirit implanted into him. Of COURSE he would take a hot minute to trust anyone.

I believe The Rooks who truly romance him must have a special archetype of being outrageously patient but also very communicative.

As one of the best Crows, Lucanis is used to making clever assumptions. It’s how he knows the team disturbingly well. Because of this, he knows people don’t trust him, shouldn’t trust him.

And to a certain extent, he would be right. Most people would be offended that he seems to flirt but keep turning away (see the almost-kiss scene).

But we all know Rook isn’t most people. Rook can be irrationally unhinged but Lucanis’s Rook can also see through and accept Lucanis’ need for space.

The whole first half of the “romance”, Lucanis tries to flirt while also second-guessing his actions and Rook’s reactions. He overanalyses and smacks his own head when he reviews his self-rejections and realises Rook IS responding positively.

And every time, he comes closer to believing Rook does reciprocate his flirting. It comes out in his expressions, it comes out in his speech.

Making Rook’s favourite dessert was the first time he genuinely tested his theory that maybe Rook does like him. But at the same time, he makes enough dessert for the whole team so if Rook does reject him, he can settle for having AT LEAST made something nice for the whole team.

When Rook spells out that they see Lucanis making their favourite dessert, Lucanis still tries to wave it off as they also made it for the team. But then Rook specifically mentions that obviously they know Lucanis would make enough for the team, but he made Rook’s favourite dessert.

Remember how he is still struggling to accept Spite himself? Rook and Emmrich are the few people who accept Spite as a part of Lucanis, that Spite exposes the rawest emotions of Lucanis. Although Emmrich does see Spite as its own being like Taash, Emmrich treats Spite like its own independent person.

Meanwhile, Taash treats Spite like a petulant child that needs taming, Harding and Neve are confusedly anxious, and Davrin is only half-joking about killing Lucanis if Spite takes over. (Expanding on the Neve-Lucanis romance later)

The coffee date where we “confirm” the romance? Rook sees Lucanis serving Spite his own cup and is pretty much like “yk what? hell yea”. Rook has always treated Spite as a part of Lucanis, and has partially made Lucanis Lucanis. I like to think the Lucanis who accepts Spite is the best one.

This is also what sets Rookanis separately from Neve/Lucanis. In the love scene, Spite brings out the wings. It’s a part of the love scene. Rook reassures Lucanis later that if Spite does come out when Lucanis is sleeping, Rook is more than comfortable entertaining/socialising with Spite.

In contrast, Lucanis sends Spite away if he and Neve spend spicy time together.

Yes, Rook sees Lucanis as a talented rich kid who deserves his Demon of Vyrantium reputation. But Lucanis’ Rook also sees him as the orphaned grandson of the most powerful Talon who feels like he had to perfectly embody the Dellamorte name at all times. Lucanis’ Rook has seen how Spite takes over, Spite’s powers especially nearly killing Illario, and still goes “that’s my man 🙂‍↕️”

One Emmrich-Lucanis banter moment has him confessing he has NO IDEA what Rook sees in him. Him - First Talon, Dellamorte’s favourite grandson, rich enough to have an in-house opera house, with all the charm and fitness of being the Demon of Vyrantium - confused that Rook allows him to feel like he is losing hours of his life because he wants to spend even more time with them? 😭

Unlike most romances (most similarly FenrisHawke and EmmrichRook), Rookanis has to work through the male LI’s traumas/flaws because that sets the foundation for the romance to bloom. The male LI’s main flaw (Emmrich’s age, Fenris’s lyrium-related slave past, Lucanis’ kidnapping + Dellamorte name + Spite) has made them believe it would be near-impossible to find someone who loves them at that point. But Hawke/Rook does anyway.

[thebloggerthatjesusloved]

black bean juice ahahahaha

Screw you, I’ll drink it straight from the can! No roasting necessary.

The forbidden bean juice will sate the void, you watch!

[siriuslylantsov]

be my valentine

pairing: spencer reid x reader

description: in which, spencer asks you out after a hearty but incomplete info dump on the history of valentines day.

tags: fluff! idiots inlove, gn!reader, reader is briefly described as shorter than spencer, teasing!spencer, grumpy!reader, penelope is an angel and i love her so much, reader shitting on valentines day and raising some very valid points.

a/n: based on this request, second fic for the event!! i know its still four days till valentines day but! if i didnt get this done now it would've been late. i rewrote this THREE times... but i rlly like how this version came out! happy reading :)

wc: 2.1k

it's your lunch break and you’re glaring at yet another sappy couple that walks by you. grumbling, you take another bite of your blueberry muffin. spencer laughs from his seat in front of you, amused by how your lip curls into an irritated pout. the two of you had walked to a cafe, a brief reprieve away from the frenzied police department you were stationed at for this week's case. 

“motherfuckers,” you seethe, still chewing your food. “i hate valentine's day.”

he laughs again, his tone sarcastic, “really, i never would’ve guessed.”

your glare shifts to him as you cross your arms. his grin is still there, annoyingly persistent, you hate that it doesn't affect him as much as it should. if you told him this, he would’ve told you that it didn't pack much of a punch. 

you roll your eyes and continue with a heavy scoff, “it's just another fake holiday, you know. like mother's day. created by greeting card companies trying to commercialise a day that shouldn't even exist honestly. every day should be dedicated to showing your loved ones how much you care, not just 24 hours in the middle of february.”

he accepts your cynicism with a smirk, completely accustomed to it. he knows you don’t mean it, not entirely, you just like to rant. “you know valentines day actually goes back about 2000 years. i’m sure greeting card companies weren't around back then,” he corrects, biting his lip in suppression.

your eyes narrow into slits, feeling the faint shift in the air of an incoming info dump. you ignore the way you want to hear what he has to say and take a sip of your coffee instead. you stall to torture him a bit, it's funny how he squirms.

“really,” you drag out, stroking your chin in exaggerated contemplation. you stare at him knowingly, he wants to continue but he's waiting for you to give him the green light. you laugh quietly, mood already improved, “go on.”

spencer visibly brightens, sitting up straighter and hands springing into action. “well, valentine's day has a really fascinating and somewhat convoluted history,” he starts, almost giddily. “the earliest accepted theory can be traced back to the roman festival of lupercalia, which was celebrated from february 13th to 15th. it was a fertility festival dedicated to faunus, the roman god of agriculture, and it included a ritual where men would sacrifice a goat and a dog, then use strips of the goat’s hide to whip women-”

“wait, they used goat skin to whip women?” you interject, eyes widening incredulously.

“yes! they willingly lined up for it too, believing it would make them more fertile,” he explains, far too animated considering the context, but it's okay. you like his enthusiasm. 

you grimace, “weird.”

“right. however, the day of love that we now recognise was brought by st. valentine, though which valentine is unclear—there were at least three martyred saints by that name. the most famous story involves a priest in third-century rome who defied emperor claudius ii's orders by secretly performing marriages for young soldiers,” he pauses to take a breath. you use it to bring your coffee back up to your lips, hiding your smile.

“claudius believed single men made better warriors, so he banned them from marrying,” he clarifies to which you nod. “when valentine was caught, he was executed on february 14th, which is why he’s the namesake of the holiday. some versions of the story even say that he sent a letter to his jailer's daughter signed ‘from your valentine’ which could be the origin of the modern tradition.”

“huh,” you pick your lip in thought, spencer hides the way his eyes dart down to them as you do it. “but that’s still an execution, how did it-”

the shrill tone of your ringtone interrupts you. “mhm, okay,” you respond when you pick up the phone. “we’ll be right there.” 

spencer stares at you expectantly, reaching over to grab your bag. he secures it over his shoulder and stands up. 

“it was jj,” you explain, stuffing the last bits of muffin into your mouth. “wi’ness ‘howed up.”

the food-muffled words make him chuckle and hold out a hand for you to get up. you let him pull you up with a dramatic huff, still holding his hand as you dust crumbs from your lap. you realise it a little too late and let go with a start, frown returning when you realise he isn’t going to let you carry your bag.

the walk back only took about five minutes before but this time's slower pace makes it a longer ordeal. comfortable silence brackets the two of you until it doesn’t when spencer speaks up.

“so, there's actually a lot more to the history of valentine's day. for instance, how the day became one of romance instead of, as you said, one that marked a martyrdom. we could, i don't know, discuss this properly over dinner. or drinks? or ice cream, i know that you like ice cream-”

filler words... he’s nervous. amid his rambling, he doesn't realise that you’ve stopped in your tracks. 

“-we can do whatever you want, i don't mind.” when he looks beside him and doesn't find you, he turns around. he can scarcely read the expression on your face, he usually can. this causes a little bout of concern to bubble up, “what is it?”

“are you asking me out?” your question is immediate, blunt, as a confused crease forms between your eyebrows.

well shit, he was. his lips part as he processes what he just said, he looks a little like a deer in headlights the way he stares back at you. was that too much? are you mad? did you want him to ask you out? what if you say no? he should say something. what if he messes everything up? he can’t-

“spencer,” his name rings out softly, pulling him from his spiral. 

his eyes snap to yours, searching, desperate to read between the lines, to piece together what you’re thinking like he always does—except this time, he can’t. he squeezes his eyes shut before opening them again, “yes.”

he swallows hard and adds, “on a date.”

“i got that,” you murmur, stepping closer to him, and closing the distance that he unintentionally left.

his head dips, voice small. “i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

your head tilts slightly, studying him. “you didn’t.”

the reassurance eases him a little but not enough as the anxiety claws at him while he waits for your answer. your phone sounds again from your pocket, this time a text from morgan. you quickly type out a response–got lost, be there in 2. it's a pathetic excuse, if you focused, the station was in your direct eye line. but you needed to say something. 

“okay.”

he can't help the sign of relief that slips out of him, you giggle at the sound. when he looks at you again, he's unmeasurably happy to see your poorly concealed smile, breaking out in his own matching one. 

“yeah?” he asks sheepishly.

you nod, chewing your bottom lip, “yeah.”

your eyes squint at the corners, a side effect of the same grin that those sappy couples had been sporting, the same one that you’d been complaining about a little while ago. it makes you want to kick yourself, so you do the next best thing. you take hold of spencer's hand and drag yourself back to the pd. spencer shuffles somewhat behind you, trying to keep up with your stride. it doesn't take him long with those long legs of his.

his thumb strokes your knuckles gently–deliberately, you feel–but he pretends it's an unconscious action with the way his eyes are trained ahead. it makes you roll your eyes. when you near, you reluctantly let go of each other, the moment being the last time the two of you are alone for the rest of the day.

-

the team ends up solving the case a few hours later, taking the jet home where a valentines day baking spread is set up in the briefing room. all set up by the resident tech savvy. penelope tells you later that it took a whole week of convincing on her part, insisting that it would be quick and she’d clean up, and that everyone would get home to their own valentine's day plans in no time. 

there are a few heart-shaped helium balloons floating in the corners, and pink streamers in easy to reach places. the room is drastically more inviting, maybe the tones of fuschia and bubblegum have something to do with that. a cake and a bowl of suspiciously dyed punch reside on the table, along with pink plates and cups.

“penelope,” you gasp when you see them.

perfectly curated baskets of chocolate and cookies and associated items for everyone. you pick up the one with your name on it and inside you find: a candle, your favourite candy tied together with a little bow and a letter signed ‘happy valentines day, sweetheart. love, penny xx’. 

oh my god, you could kiss her. 

“it's like christmas,” emily muses from the other end of the table. you hear jj mutter something in agreement. you peek over at spencer, it's probably the hundredth time that you've snuck a glance his way. his eyes were already on you every other time, only now they were accompanied by a pair of red heart-shaped glasses, the clear plastic lenses offering a perfect view of his hazel orbs. the picture makes you laugh to yourself, you can barely hear it echoing from his end. 

-

about 30 minutes later, only the stragglers are left. in better words, the single people. the individuals with partners having rushed off to their own respective plans. you're making small talk with another girl who worked around the office when you feel a light hand on your shoulder, spencer nodding his head toward the elevator to signal your leave. you politely wish her goodbye and walk out with him. 

“cute glasses,” you tease, bumping his shoulder with yours, though the height difference makes it so you're nudging his upper arm. 

“yeah? i might get the lenses medicated, switch them out for my regular ones,” he jokes, his elbow nudging yours gently as he pushes the bridge of the glasses up the slope of his nose instinctively. 

“good idea,” you nod.

“you think?”

“mhm.” 

once again, he beats you to your bag, swiping it from your chair and carrying it along with his own. you meekly toy with the hem of your shirt as the two of you walk to the elevator. 

“so, bummer that neither of us have plans today. it’s so early,” you say, being blatantly obvious with what you're suggesting.

spencer only offers you an indifferent “yeah, bummer” in response, walking in when the doors slide open. when you look at him though, he's anything but indifferent, the corner of his lip pulling up in a crooked smile, irritatingly smug. you don't know where he gets off on being so at ease but the expression on his face makes you scowl as you follow him in. 

he is silent the whole ride down. you become increasingly annoyed, only faltering slightly when his hand reaches down to hold yours. his fingers thread between yours and you not-so subtly curl yours over his, ignoring the way he looks down at you. 

you try not to smile at the domestic picture of the two of you walking out hand in hand. thankfully the basement is empty. he pauses between your cars and mutters a quick “see you monday” before loosening his fingers and turning to walk away.

“spencer,” you groan, almost a whine as you squeeze his hand before he can let go.

he responds immediately, without missing a beat, “yes, angel.”

fuck.

you want to melt but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. “would you like to do something tonight?” you grit out begrudgingly.

“i would love to,” he agrees, pulling you closer with your hand. your gaze darts to the two bag straps on his shoulder and you realise he had no intention of letting you go just like that. so you shove him, a little hard that he stumbles a bit. he huffs a laugh and you shake your head dismissively. 

he slowly, tentatively, dips down to press a soft kiss to your cheek. your eyes flutter shut at the contact. 

“how does thai food sound?” he asks, that same bashfulness creeping into his voice that you love so dearly. 

“sounds perfect.”

you share another sweet smile that would probably make you gag from an outside perspective but now it just makes you feel dizzy. he leads you back to his car, muttering something about how he’ll pick yours up tomorrow morning. you want to argue with him but that same dizzy feeling stops you.

you can't help the dreamy sigh that slips out when he connects your hands again over the centre console. thank god for st. valentine, you think.

reblogs and replies are appreciated :) | m.list

divider from @saradika-graphics

[gothamrain]

I MARRIED MY STALKER —more on page 4

Tim Drake x reader || part 1 || 1760 words

a/n: okay so some context, this is supposed to be an isekai’d reader. only been in this universe for a month but knows dc lore. also i wrote 90% of this literally 2 years ago lol i stay silly

It was a strange situation. Laughable, in a twisted kinda way. You knew you had a stalker. You hear him follow you home every night after work. Or, well, morning technically. You get off that late.

You've never been one to write something off as paranoia. Especially now that you lived in Gotham. Especially especially since you lived in the Narrows. Like you're not stupid.

Whenever you would turn around, checking your surroundings, you wouldn’t find him. The footsteps weren't on the ground, you've elicited. He was up in the rooftops, doing parkour. Great.

You really hoped it wasn't a supervillain. Imagine that, you're given the miraculous opportunity to carve out a new life for yourself in a big city and you almost immediately get killed horrifically by a guy in a halloween costume before you even get a chance. Actually, with the way your luck goes, that checks out.

It was becoming increasingly clear the predator didn't just know your work schedule, either. When you'd go out for groceries, or to a diner, he’d often find you then too, following you around town. It was like he was studying your behavior patterns, which actually is pretty typical of a true old fashioned stalker, now that you think of it.

Even so. He never got any closer than he always did. Never actually attacking you. And eventually, you got used to his presence, thinking nothing of it when you heard the occasional scuff of boots against the concrete and metal of the city.

But the strangest thing happened as you shambled home from your second job tonight, eager to get on with your evening.

You see him.

Or, at least, you see his shadow. His form silhouetted against the wall, standing bold as he eclipsed the red glow coming from some sort of neon sign.

He doesn't move, as you stare at the shadow on the wall. Which strikes you as odd, if not terrifying, because you had gotten the vibe that this man knew what he was doing. It was like he wanted you to know he was there.

And you recognize the silhouette. That's Red fucking Robin.

You take a deep breath. You are relieved, truthfully. Even if it was clear he thought of you as some sort of target.. Or maybe he was protecting you from the real stalker, and the supervillain theory was truer than you'd hoped…

“I don't believe I have any information you would want,” you call out, trying to figure just what the hell he thinks he’s doing.

“That’s not necessarily true,” his voice is different than you expected.

“So like. You gonna beat the shit out of me or can we go up to my apartment and have this discussion over a pot of coffee?”

“I— I would never hurt you,” his calm and deep voice cracked for a second, like he couldn't believe what you just implied. You know as if he hadn't been stalking you almost the entire time you'd been in this goddamn city.

“So my place it is, then,” you confirmed.

“You’d invite a dangerous vigilante into your home?”

“Are you saying you don’t have the ability to ‘let yourself in’ at any time you please?”

“Well, no,”

“Then I don't see how me voluntarily letting you in is any less dangerous.”

And that's how you wound up in this situation, nervously pouring a mug of coffee for one of Gotham's infamous vigilantes.

You were glad that he for some reason took this softer route. As you recall, whenever a Bat wants to have a talk with someone they usually just appear in the shadows of their home or office, scaring the bejeebus out of them.

You couldn't completely tell, because of the mask, but you got the feeling he wasn't looking around. He'd already studied your apartment, most likely. His eyes were trained solely on you.

"Room for cream and sugar?" you ask. You know the answer. You're a barista in the daytime, and you've served a certain Wayne Ent. CEO more than a few times already. Which, now that he could be your stalker, makes sense. He was scoping you out. Great.

"No thanks. I prefer it black."

"Dark like you, right?"

He cracked the smallest of smiles as he took the mug from your hands, like he was holding back from outright grinning. Strange. That was a really lame and overdone joke. Maybe he doesn't get out much.

"I like it black too," you ran a hand through your hair,

"I know you’ve been following me around," he looked a little guilty at your accusation, "but I don’t know why. I haven’t done anything suspect—“

“I’m protecting you,” Tim butt in.

“I’m in danger?”

He shifted uncomfortably.

"…I can’t say that you aren’t.”

“Goddamnit," you set the mugs down on the table a little too aggressively, "So what am I looking at here? Joker? Poison Ivy? Condiment Man?”

Tim looked sheepish as you poured the coffee into the mugs. As much as he could with that mask, anyway. He grabbed a mug and took a long sip, swallowing loudly. Ah, it was a little too hot, but he was trying too much to act cool to let on to the fact he just burned himself. He let out a breath to cool off his tongue, but played it off as a sigh.

“I can’t tell you.”

You sighed deeply, yeah, that’s what you thought he’d say.

Well. As much as you didn’t like the sudden interruption of your new life, you had been wondering when you were going to be pulled into something like this. You knew it was inevitable, otherwise you wouldn’t be here.. Right? People don’t get sent to other dimensions for no reason, right? And besides, now that you’ve settled in, you’ve started to get bored.

"So what’s our game plan?” you asked as you took a sip. Ah, a little too hot.

“Game plan?”

“You know. The part where you’ve got an overly complicated plan to catch this criminal and you need my help as bait,”

He smiled at you, incredulous, “You’d want to be bait?”

“Not. Necessarily. No,” you took another sip to cover up your eagerness, “I just want to help,”

“Helping is my job, Sweetheart,” he took a long sip to look roguish, “you’re a civilian,”

“Yeah but,” you tried not to sound put down by his reluctance to let you into his world, “You— I… I’m interested in not being a civilian, if you know what I mean…”

Tim stared at you, trying to compute what you were asking of him. Feeling silly, you put up your dukes and mimed punching someone to make your point. It was really cute, actually. He grinned at you.

He did not expect.. this. He thought you’d be scared. He thought he could metaphorically take you to a scary movie just so you’d cuddle into him out of fright. He did not think your brain would’ve picked the ‘fight’ option out of ‘fight or flight’. Maybe he underestimated you. Miscalculated his moves. Albeit, this might be way more interesting…

“Train me,” you tried not to sound too desperate.

You held your breath, waiting for his answer.

Tim focused on the coffee, letting what you just said linger in the air. This was a dirt cheap brand of grounds, burnt and acidic. He’d have to get you some real coffee soon.

“Okay.”

You released the air in your lungs with one big huff. Hopefully your breath didn’t smell too bad, as you basically washed his face in it. Even a strand of his bangs fluttered. Real smooth, dumbass. But you quickly forgot that insecurity as your brain caught up with what he said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really,”

“No interview or anything? Not that I can’t be trusted, but how would you know I can be trusted?” hey stupid, stop trying to talk him out of this.

“Well I already uh,” he coughed awkwardly, “I already know a lot about you,”

“Ah, yeah, you were stalking me, weren’t you?”

You had no idea what the fuck kinda info he could have considering you don’t really have a background to check in this universe, but okay.

Tim scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah.. Sorry about that. It was all for your safety, I promise,”

You giggled, “Thank you, Mr. Robin, I do feel safe now, knowing it was you,”

“Oh uh,” you could see a blush start peeking out from under his mask, “My pleasure— I mean uh, it’s my duty to you. —As you are a citizen of Gotham, I mean.”

“So when do we star—“

You were cut off by his communicator beeping. He put a hand up to some earpiece he had.

“On it. Be right there,” Tim told someone over the line.

He looked back at you guiltily. You waved your hand in a “it’s fine” gesture.

“Go be a hero Mr. Robin,” you stood to start taking the mugs to the sink.

He held up a finger to ask you for a second as he basically dumped the entire mug into his mouth and gulped it all down. He parted from the mug with a gasp of satisfaction, and you snickered as you finally took it from him.

He stood and brushed himself off while you busied yourself at the sink. You didn’t really worry about whether he was about to disappear into the night like he was never there in the first place. He’d be back. Watching you in the shadows like he had been every night you’d been here...

Did he know you weren’t ‘native’, so to speak? Maybe whatever trouble you’re in now is apart of how you got here in the first place. You’ll have to ask him later…

A hand found its place on your shoulder, and you turned around to him fumbling with his communicator with the other hand. You felt a buzz in your pocket.

“Here’s my number, I’ll text you later, okay?”

You noticed how he didn’t even go through the formality of asking you for your number. Guess we’re a little past pretending this is a normal interaction between two people who want to get to know each other better. You smiled at him as he started making his way to your door.

“Bye Mr. Robin,”

Chuckling at the nickname, he turned back one last time as he held the door, “Bye Y/n,” he grinned at you before making his disappearance back into the shadows of the night.

[brideavocado]

⚠️GOOD OMENS S2 SPOILERS⚠️ Okay so let’s talk about the coffee theory. I think it’s ridiculous. I think the theory was most made up because people couldn’t handle the truth. I mean the coffee obviously had some kind of importance cause why would they even show it otherwise but I don’t think it’s that. I mean Aziraphale has always believed in heaven and we’ve seen him choose heaven before. He believes that it can change and that heaven can be good and that’s not something new. Crowley has never been as attached to hell as Aziraphale has been to heaven. We got a little smaller argument about the same thing in season 1 and then we also saw Aziraphale wanting to help heaven and Crowley wanting them to be their own team, it just didn’t become as big of a deal since they figured it out. Also the fact that Aziraphale went with heaven doesn’t mean he doesn’t love Crowley. People are saying how he doesn’t love Crowley back and that the coffee theory has to be true because he always loved Crowley before but he does now too. Did you guys even see the sadness in his eyes after Crowley left? He didn’t want to leave Crowley, he wanted to go to heaven and bring Crowley with him. If you really think about it neither of them did anything wrong. They both just wanted different things. So I think the coffee theory is ridiculous, it actually fits Aziraphales character to choose heaven. I do love Aziraphale anyways though, and Crowley to. I’m Aziraphale apologist number 1. I also think that besides that it’s really sad it actually is a really good ending of the season. We do know that Neil is already working on the next season and has a plan if AMAZON will start freaking paying him. Otherwise he has said we will get a book so we know that’s not the real ending. So I actually think it’s a beautiful way to end a season even if it’s heartbreaking. I am sad but I know there will be more. So most people are definitely overreacting.

[aventurineswife]

HII AUTHOR! ARE YOU HAVING A GOOD DAY? I HAVE A QUESTION. How would the SAHSRAU react if you suddenly got bored with HSR and switched to genshin?

Oh boy... The jealousy and the angst are sure burning up...

At first, they don’t notice.

Everything is normal. The Museum of Divinity still stands. Your artworks are still there. Your music still echoes through the stars.

But then… something changes.

The paintings stop appearing. The music stops playing. The museum doors remain shut.

The characters wait for your next command. It never comes.

The Galaxy is silent.

And that’s when they realize.

“There must be an explanation.”

Welt starts running calculations, probability theories, even dimensional travel theories—anything to explain your sudden disappearance.

Himeko sips her coffee, trying to stay calm, but her hands are shaking. “They’ll be back. They always come back.”

(You in fact did not come back.)

March 7th: "Uh, guys? You might wanna look at this..."

She holds up a blurry, pixelated screenshot she managed to capture—a screenshot of Teyvat.

Himeko’s mug shatters. (Like her heart ahem)

Blade stops moving entirely. His entire reason for existing has just left him behind.

Stares blankly at the sky, gripping his sword. If you are no longer here, then what purpose does he have?

Dan Heng acts calm, but he's already in crisis mode. He's scrolling through files, trying to find any clue as to why you left.

When he sees the Teyvat screenshot, his grip tightens on his spear.

Dan Heng: “…We’ve been abandoned.” (yeah no shit, Sherlock-)

Aventurine immediately plays it cool. "Well, well, well. Looks like our dear Creator has found another plaything."

Sunday is not calm.

"BETRAYAL! TREACHERY! ABANDONMENT! I HAVE BEEN CAST ASIDE!"

He dramatically collapses on the museum floor. Aventurine just watches with amusement.

But the second he sees the Teyvat screenshot—

Aventurine: “…Oh, you’ve got to be joking.”

They both hate the idea of you playing another game more than they hate each other.

Kafka smirks, but there’s a sharp edge to it. "So, you’ve moved on, huh?"

Black Swan looks at the fading murals of your art, her expression unreadable. “All things fade… but I never expected our Creator’s gaze to turn elsewhere.”

Deep down, they wonder—were they not enough?

Luocha: "I suppose even gods grow tired of their creations."

Jing Yuan: "Hah… It seems we have been cast aside for another world."

They act philosophical about it, but they’re both lowkey miserable.

Jing Yuan tries to joke about it, but even Yanqing notices something’s off.

Luocha stares at a fading portrait of you, quietly wondering if he will ever see your light again. (Probably not but ahem)

March 7th is the first to start coping.

"It’s fine, it’s fine! Maybe they’re just… on a vacation! Yeah! They’ll be back! Right?"

Sparkle is already scheming. "If our dear Painter has found another world… then perhaps it’s time we follow them there."

(They are actively looking for ways to break into Teyvat.)

Sighs, so the list goes on...

Blade stops fighting entirely. (What's the point if you're not watching?)

Dan Heng avoids everyone. (He refuses to believe it.)

Kafka and Black Swan start theorizing. (Will you return, or is this the end?)

Sunday begins plotting. (If they cannot bring you back, they will find a way to make you remember them.)

March 7th, Sparkle, and Aventurine?

They're looking for a way to invade Genshin. (Yeah, with Silver Wolf's help)

Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months.

They wait.

And wait.

And then—

One day—

A new painting appears.

It's… different.

A familiar signature, but a different style.

A mural of Teyvat.

And on that day, the last hope shatters.

You are gone.

Their Creator has truly moved on.

But that doesn’t mean they’ll stop searching for you. Not ever.

My back hurts... I'm taking away your guys' SAHSRAU privilege. I need someone to write this as a fic or expand it and I'm not gonna write it, that's for you. 🫶

[imagopersonal]

Give me coffee or give me death

I don’t believe in the Coffee Theory per se. I think the whole ‘drugged coffee’ thing is a bit too spy movie to be in Good Omens, but- BUT

The fact that that coffee is in the intro;

The fact that you can see The Metatron in line, waiting for his turn, BEFORE he gets into the coffee shop, like if he was an out of place detail you were supposed to notice and ask yourself questions about;

The very long and apparently superfluous dialogue about choosing coffee instead of death, and how “predictable” that is;

The fact that for two seasons we NEVER see Aziraphale drinking coffee, like that’s not his thing, that’s Crowley’s thing, he’s the “six-espressos-in-a-big-cup” guy, Aziraphale drinks hot chocolate or tea, and we have to assume The Metatron knows that, because he went into that coffee shop and asked for such a specific thing that makes you think that’s something he chose specifically for Aziraphale (who still doesn’t drink coffee, so why?).

He looks reluctant at the idea of drinking it at first

but he accepts it out of courtesy, I presume, and this is the face he makes when he tries it:

Even he is surprised he liked it. He’s on Earth since 6000 years, so we can assume he tried coffee before and chose not to drink it. He’s either lying about liking it out of courtesy, or this is the only coffee he’s ever enjoyed, and The Metatron knew he would have liked it and chose that coffee on purpose.

So, the coffee is either important as a physical element, as something that had an actual effect on Aziraphale and changed him somehow, or it’s important in its metaphorical significance. In Good Omens almost everything is metaphorical, so the second option is very likely.

Now, what’s the coffee supposed to represent? The only certain thing we know, is that the coffee is something The Metatron offers Aziraphale, so it probably represents the offer he’s about to make.

Considering the whole “Does anyone ever choose death?” conversation, considering the fact that we don’t know how the conversation between The Metatron and Aziraphale went, we only know the version Aziraphale chooses to tell Crowley, and considering The Metatron is the angel that decided to erase Gabriel’s memory just because he said “nah” about Armageddon 2.0 and Aziraphale is the traitor, the one who stopped the Armageddon 1.0, so The Metatron has no reason to be friendly with him, my question is:

Did Aziraphale actually have a choice?

Or the alternative was worse than leaving Crowley and the bookshop?

Was it actually coffee or death?

Imago

[hollowed-theory-hall]

why dudley redemption it makes a lot of sense to me in the second book we know he cares enough to remember what Harry's birthday is. yes he uses this as a chance to mock him but he knows it regardless. He also changes drastically after the dementors my favorite theory is because it shows him himself the raw and ugly selfish person he is and that is terrible enough to cause change

(Referring to this post)

Yeah, Dudley's redemption makes sense because he was a child, and he learned, and he improved. And yes, him remembering Harry's birthday is a sign of care, roundabout as it is.

What I find fun about Dudley's redemption is how terrified of magic he is. Like, his parents teach him to be scared of magic and hate it. And, I mean, he was harmed by magic multiple times:

But he had finally gone too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, “NEVER — ” he thundered, “— INSULT — ALBUS — DUMBLEDORE He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley — there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig’s tail poking through a hole in his trousers.

(PS)

Harry wheeled around. Dudley was no longer standing behind his parents. He was kneeling beside the coffee table, and he was gagging and sputtering on a foot-long, purple, slimy thing that was protruding from his mouth. One bewildered second later, Harry realized that the foot-long thing was Dudley’s tongue — and that a brightly colored toffee wrapper lay on the floor before him. Aunt Petunia hurled herself onto the ground beside Dudley, seized the end of his swollen tongue, and attempted to wrench it out of his mouth; unsurprisingly, Dudley yelled and sputtered worse than ever, trying to fight her off. Uncle Vernon was bellowing and waving his arms around, and Mr. Weasley had to shout to make himself heard.

(GoF)

He could not believe what had just happened. Dementors here, in Little Whinging . . . Dudley lay curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking.

(OotP)

And yet, he's never really scared of Harry and actually grows to have respect for Harry after he saves him from the dementors. I just really like that for all his fear of magic. He doesn't fear Harry. Not really.

And, we see his position on Harry change, he has his own subtle little arc of realising his parents are full of shit:

“Er — no, they don’t,” said Harry. “They think I’m a waste of space, actually, but I’m used to — ” “I don’t think you’re a waste of space.” If Harry had not seen Dudley’s lips move, he might not have believed it. As it was, he stared at Dudley for several seconds before accepting that it must have been his cousin who had spoken; for one thing, Dudley had turned red. Harry was embarrassed and astonished himself.

(DH)

And when Dumbledore calls Vernon and Petunia out in HBP (quite late, on his part), Harry assumes Dudley is stupid:

Dudley was frowning slightly, as though he was still trying to work out when he had ever been mistreated. Uncle Vernon looked as though he had something stuck in his throat; Aunt Petunia, however, was oddly flushed.

(HBP)

But I think Dudley was actually considering Dumbledore's words here and taking them to heart. I think he frowned because he was actually thinking about it. Becouse he got what Dumbledore meant.

I can't really get behind that theory for what Dudley saw, personally. I don't think that's the case since it's not the sort of thing we know other characters (Harry) see. Dementors make you relive your worst memories (his parents' death and later the graveyard, in Harry's case), not the thing you need to see for your character development.

I don't know what Dudley saw, but I'm sure he saw a specific moment, a memory that was his worst moment. The moment he, himself suffered the most. I consider the situation with the tongue-swelling toffee or any of the other times Dudley suffered at the hands of magic to be likely candidates. So, no, I don't think Dudley improved because of what the dementors showed him. I think his character development happened because Harry bothered to save him. Harry acted in a way that contradicted everything Dudley's parents said about him and his magic. Harry used his magic to save Dudley. And I think that was the fact that really set Dudley on his small arc.

That moment proved to Dudley that Harry was an inherently good person and that magic could be used to save lives (his life). It basically gave Dudley undeniable proof his parents lied to him.

I mean, Dudley makes it clear Harry's actions of saving his life were a big deal for him:

“Well . . . er . . . thanks, Dudley.” Again, Dudley appeared to grapple with thoughts too unwieldy for expression before mumbling, “You saved my life.”

(DH)

So I belive that was the source of his arc.

And I think it's interesting. Like, I won't say Dudley is a character I particularly like, but I understand him, and I think he has a small redemption. Like, I can't see post-books Harry being super close to Dudley, but I like to think they chose to meet up again and try to have some familial connection. Not anything super close, but, it would be something, yk?

I also think an adult Dudley would not be very close to his parents. Like, he'd see them for holidays and stuff, but these meetings would always be tense, especially when he brings up the question of why Harry isn't there as he did in DH:

“Why isn’t he coming with us?” Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia froze where they stood, staring at Dudley as though he had just expressed a desire to become a ballerina. “What?” said Uncle Vernon loudly. “Why isn’t he coming too?” asked Dudley [...] They heard the front door open, but Dudley did not move and after a few faltering steps Aunt Petunia stopped too. “What now?” barked Uncle Vernon, reappearing in the doorway. It seems that Dudley was struggling with concepts too difficult to put into words. After several moments of apparently painful internal struggle he said, “But where’s he going to go?” Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon looked at each other. It was clear that Dudley was frightening them. Hestia Jones broke the silence.

(DH)

It makes sense to me, at least that Dudley's relationship with his parents would go more strained and that he'll try to keep in touch with Harry. That he'd feel like he needs to and eventually they'll get along well enough. Again, I don't think Harry and Dudley would ever be super close, but it would be something.