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“I don’t see why it matters what is written. Not when it’s about people. It can always be crossed out.”

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OH THIS IS GOOD

some fucking resources for all ur writing fuckin needs

* body language masterlist

* a translator that doesn’t eat ass like google translate does

* a reverse dictionary for when ur brain freezes

* 550 words to say instead of fuckin said

* 638 character traits for when ur brain freezes again

* some more body language help

(hope this helps some ppl)

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I decided to paint 1941 Crowley. I needed a distraction for a bit, and I wanted to play around with my style for a more enjoyable process. Enjoy!

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as much as i understand being a hater you have to offset that shit with genuine, sincere enjoyment & wonder sometimes lest YOU become the one who is corny. and sad. imo.

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Haven't written in ages, please guide me to replenish my skills.

I love writing, I love stories, I love art. It's just who I am and what I want to do as a job, I have a lot of passion for it is what I'm saying. One thing I don't have is discipline. I have adhd so I cant function without being motivated. And opportunities that give me motivation don't come often as I'm still very busy with school. But here's something short that I've written about it. I don't mind opinions, actually I kind of want it. So go ahead :

"All this motivation, yet my hands don't move - They don't know how"

My passion bubbles up in a container that shakes and jumps. Drawing the attention of others. I wrangle the object with both my hands to keep it steady. "Be patient, you'll be out soon" I say grinning ad ready for it to flourish, to grow. For it to take shape from the ashes I have let it be for years. The dust I've forgotten.

Yet here I am! Soaking in the gyrating excitement that it is. Oh, how I missed this. The lids fly off in a single 'pop!'. My eyes dart to every crevice, finding it. Waiting for it.

Nothing.

"Where" my voice grows weaker. "Is it? .. " - The room echoes my wants back to me. My hands shiver from the sound of it breezing through my hairs. It lifts it up ever so slightly, urging it to move. Do something, please just do something.

"Help" I whisper to whoever cared. "It doesn't know how"

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Something that I noticed during the conversation the Metatron has with Aziraphale.

He says de facto partnership. De facto partnership! Not just de facto, but adds partnership!

General definition of de facto partnership:

A couple who aren’t married but who live together as a domestic couple.

The Metatron isn’t just saying that he’s aware of the friendship Aziraphale and Crowley have formed, he’s full on implying that Heaven believes they are romantically linked. No wonder Aziraphale looks so pissed. He knows he’s being threatened in the highest degree.

I’m sure people have pointed that out before, but once again I’m over here getting my mind blown by things clicking into place.

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WAIT DONT LEAVE YOU CAN'T JUST DROP THIS HERE!!! 😭😭

DUMPING ALL MY ABANDONED GOOD OMEN WIPS BECAUSE I DONT HAVE TIME TO FINISH IT!!!!!!!!!!

KOKAY BYEE

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yeah..

Yall ever just?

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I’m gonna be honest here. If you post about good omens, if you like good omens, if you talk about good omens you should have been calling Gaiman out. This is only to say that as we get excited for filming and photos, that we can’t forget what happened. We can’t sit here and pretend that he didn’t write it because he did, he helped. We have to acknowledge this because we are such a diverse fandom of many, many good people, we can’t let this go on and it’s not okay to sweep it under the rug. We should also call out creators in our fandom who supported him, who levied attacks at the women, who said it was a ploy to give the Tories boosts in the election (cough cough, nightgoodomens)

At the same time our support for the victims and anger at Gaiman should not be contingent on a fucking book and tv show. I love y'all, I do. I understand how the show has saved lives and given people purpose, but these are real people who are left with gaping wounds. How would you feel? We have to realize that the more we focus on fandom things and “oh maybe David had red hair in a recent post” or “oh how will this affect our show” or “NOOO GOOD OMENS” The more he gets away with. We can’t forget this, we can’t abandon it. We are better than he is, and part of being better than he is involves taking accountability and understanding how our actions may affect others.

enjoy fandom, enjoy art, but don’t let that keep you from holding Gaiman accountable.

(Also below I’ve included links for sexual abuse charities and hotlines, if you are safe enough to call, please do.)

RAINN: 800.656.HOPE (4673) (A United States based organization that also has help available in Spanish. Immigrant women and children in the United States are especially vulnerable to predators)

National sexual violence resource center: 877-739-3895 (another US Based Organization, if I’m correct this is the donation line)

national indigenous women’s resources (US): niwrc.org

New Zealand Safe to talk sexual violence help line: 0800 044 334

Rape crisis (Wales and England): 08085002222

safeline (UK: can’t tell if it’s regional): 01926402498

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oh mama...

nothing to say for myself

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no idea about the context for this scene cuz I haven't watched s2 yet but I imagine this is exactly what happened :)

based on this Columbo gem:

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I don't think so. You've got an amnesiac Archangel hiding out in your bookshop.

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sobbing!!

Not soulmates, based on this quote by marsadist (via twitter) [Crowley's version]

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Sometimes I forget that romance is a real thing and not just made up for good omens

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my taking every opportunity to shove my azicrow agenda down my friends throats:

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need a bi4bi t4t m/f pairing where the girl is a giant freak and not in the "cute manic pixie" way but in the "unethical experiments in my fucked up laboratory" way and the guy is a golden retriever who thinks he can fix her. and he brings her cute bento lunches and she's like "bradley shut up put on your fucking gloves and hold this possum down so i can graft these giant grasshopper legs to it"

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"You wouldn't understand because

You've never been in love,"

Not in a traditional sense, no,

But is it not love that flows through me?

The way I'd once viewed you as my sun,

The others being my stars

Is that love not enough for you?

"Of course it's not"

I speak to myself

As I hold her in my trembling arms

The dark room empty

Yet suffocating

Is it not love,

how I nursed you back to health?

When you couldn't move or stand?

"Not enough for them,"

I speak once more,

To the child in my grasp

"Why can't they see that I do know love?"

She whispers into the dark

"It's not your fault,"

I reply simply, as tears run down her cheeks

"Love is complex, they don't know themselves,"

The words fall on deaf ears

A shattered soul

Lost in the dark

I hope someday she'll see,

And I know that she is me

Love isn't that one thing,

A wedding with a ring

It's all around us,

Flourishing, blooming

In the winds that spread pollen,

The stars that shine at night

In the arms that hold us closely,

When nothing seems quite right

I know there's love within me,

Though maybe not your kind

And I hope one day you'll see me

When you stop being so blind

Love is the laughter shared,

The tears we shed together

It's the moments that we think of

When we can't stand the weather

I love all and none,

And sometimes too much

Never nothing

And it helps me see

Though you'd never agree

That I am love,

And love is me