Calm as still water @anarwsme - Tumblr Blog

Do you spend most of your time thinking about fake scenarios full of original characters but never ever write a word of it? Congratulations, you're a writer.

ok so there's something I don't understand about that moment in the 1899 show *SPOILER AHEAD* when all the characters just go into zombie mode and jump off the ship?? All of them do it except for the main ones right? So why Krester jumps too?? He shouldn't have to because he's not a npc like the others

#1899 netflix #1899 #1899 Krester #netflix #pls help

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deucesmoses

Fellas is it gay if we,,,,,, touch tips

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You know, Crowley, I’ve always said that, deep down, you really are quite a nice-

fallwithmemydear

if the body swap has already taken place at this point then this implies that crowley knows aziraphale’s shop well enough to distinguish between hundreds, if not thousands, of books, and to recognize that this specific set is new…….

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Crowley spends 6 thousand years on Earth constantly changing himself. Always a new hairstyle, always a new look, always keeping up with the latest fashions.

Aziraphale stays pretty much the same through the years. He keeps basically the same style of hair, the same clothes for far beyond when they were at the height of fashion, and was severely disappointed when his favorite dance went out of style.

Aziraphale finds something he loves and holds onto it. It’s a large part of why he thinks Crowley goes too fast. It’s not just his driving. It’s how he so quickly goes from one thing to another. He doesn’t want to be just another thing Crowley leaves behind.

lazy-stitch

Don’t leave me

(psst, you should 100% full view this)

keikomivra

⇢ 🤬❗

teluete

“We’re on our own side.”

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The exact moment Aziraphale realizes he’s in love.

johnparri

Taron Egerton by Anton Corbijn for Vogue (April 2019).

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“I want to speak to a manager,” the middle-aged woman said in her stern I-used-to-be-a-soccer-mom-ten-years-ago voice, looking down at me over the top of her Gucci reading glasses.

A wicked grin split across my face and the gates of Hell opened up behind me, releasing a gust of hot wind that whipped my apron around my body and forced the woman to shield her face. Demons came forth, dancing around in flames with songs of, “She wants to speak to a manager. Did you hear that? She wants to speak to a manager!” before erupting into earsplitting shrieks of laughter, none louder than my own cackling.

I took in the woman’s look of utter horror before my eyes rolled back into my head and I growled,

“I am the manager.”