Queen of the Cute

Professional Fangirl | she/her | 40-ish

[queenofthecute]

My illustration for @carry-the-sky's tremendously romantic "Before Sunrise" AU that I'm absolutely head-over-heels in love with!

Read the fic on Ao3: You, Falling Through

A collaboration for the @do-it-with-style-events Silver Screen Bang

[queenofthecute]

On a train ride home, Aziraphale meets Crowley by chance. Intrigued by each other, they decide to disembark in London and wander the city together. As the evening unfolds, they find themselves faced with one ineffable question:

Can the greatest romance of your life last only one night?

A Before Sunrise AU, coming soon to an AO3 near you!

A collaboration for the @do-it-with-style-events Silver Screen Bang, written by @carry-the-sky with art by @queenofthecute

[queenofthecute]

I drew this for the previous round of the Good Omens Minisode Minibang! ( @go-minisode-minibang ) While I can't link you to the fic it's for (yet!) I think the image itself can be summed up by saying that Crowley is sleeping off a Very Bad Day™ in the bedroom above Aziraphale's newly opened bookshop.

I challenged myself to draw a background in perspective (for once!) and dig into some of the other tools available in Procreate. I still feel like I don't quite have a grasp on it, but I'm proud of myself to trying.

My personal failing continues to be the coloring process, so here's the line art, too!

[claypigeonpottery]

[etc-source4]

no i don’t have an “astigmatism” i can just see the halos of the angels that live in car head lights that you losers are too spiritually closed off to see

[queenofthecute]

“Ngk. I mean. Ugh. Because, I can just tell, all right? There are… noises and utterances, and the like.”

Aziraphale's brow furrowed in thought. “How do you know they're not faking it? With the noises and whatnot?”

“Be serious, Aziraphale. You don't think I could tell the difference?”

There was a pause, while Aziraphale placed his fork on top of his plate and took a sip of water.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[queenofthecute]

"Gay men cannot be friends. The sex part always gets in the way," Crowley had asserted.

“I guess we aren't going to be friends, then,” was Aziraphale's response.

When I say I *jumped* at the chance to illustrate @southernfriedamy's fic for the @ineffableidiotsbigbang, I'm not exaggerating! You can start reading it now and follow along with the romcom goodness as more chapters get posted!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[queenofthecute]

The red-haired man paused in front of him, stubbing out his cigar on the parapet. “You never gave me that book,” he said at last.

Aziraphale flushed. “You never came back to church,” he retorted.

“Ah, well.” The red-haired man— Crawly, Aziraphale recalled—turned to lean back against the balustrade, crossing his arms over his chest.

Getting to illustrate @gorgeousundertow's absolutely stunning fic, along with @most-normal-eccles-cake-ignorer, for the @ineffableidiotsbigbang been a complete and utter delight!

I feel so lucky that I got to read this fic before everyone else. Link below! More chapters are getting posted every day as the event continues!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[incorrectdarmok]

[ID by @sage-was-stolen:

Images are from the "Star Trek: The Next Generation" episode "Darmok".

First image: A closeup of Picard as he speaks to a wounded Dathon, in an attempt to comfort him. Captions are added that read: "And... they were roommates."

Second image: A closeup of Dathon responding and smiling while laid down. Captions are added that read: "(Laughing) They were roommates!"

End ID]

[deathisallaroundus-deactivated2]

"A Child’s View from Gaza" was an art exhibition showcasing drawings created by the children of Gaza.

"The captioned illustrations were created by Palestinian children who lived through the Israeli bombardment of Gaza in 2008-09. The pictures were drawn as part of an effort to help children deal with the horrors they had experienced. A Bay Area nonprofit, Middle East Children’s Alliance (MECA), arranged to display a collection of these pictures at the Museum of Children’s Art in Oakland, California. However, under pressure from the Jewish Federation of the East Bay and other organizations, the museum backed out of the agreement at the last minute."

[agoodpairofsocks]

Shelter

The Angel of The Eastern Gate stood wringing out his robes, as if it would make any difference. The rain had gotten heavier, the winds harsher, so the demon and him had decided to seek shelter. 

Calling it a cave would be a stretch, it was more like a hole dug big enough for a party of four, or, in this instance, two otherworldly beings and their wings attached. 

Crawley sat and crossed his arms over his chest, feeling rather silly about the whole situation. First the appletree with its strange trivial rules, the angel, the sword, the rain, a string of events leading to no large climax other than him and his mortal enemy huddled and shivering like two big wet birds. Crawley’s robes clung to him and his hair stuck to his face in unflattering fashion, whose idea was rain anyway? Big wet globs of liquid falling from the sky, drenching the earth. Soaking into your clothes, your hair, your feathers. What a mess. Hopefully the angel was having a worse time than he was. 

He looked up towards the angel, Crawley soon realized he was twice as soaked in comparison, not only that, but the dampness of his white robes had left him quite exposed. 

The cloth clung to the angels pinkish skin, revealing the curve of his thighs and the softness of his stomach (which Crawley was eye-level with, mind you). The soaked fabric hugged itself around the angels waist, his bottom, his chest, leaving very little concealed at all.  It made Crawleys otherwise cold wind-beaten body heat up, and his stomach churn in a way he couldn't explain. Maybe this was hunger, the demon had never been hungry before. 

The angel shivered, Crawley could practically make out every goosebump, and swayed as he wrung water out of the front of his robes. He looked ridiculous, Crawley admitted, with his hair in a mess of wet blond curls at the top of his head, standing practically naked as he tried to unburden himself of a few single water droplets. Why then, did the demon find himself so unbelievably flustered to see him like this? He had seen the human corporation before, he was there when they designed them (a bit unimpressive and clunky, if you ask him) and they had never once driven such a reaction from him. 

Maybe it was just the angel himself, Crawley thought, what was his name again? He told it to me once, I think it started with an ‘A’.... No thats ‘angel’, giving away a flaming sword to humans, lending shelter to a demon, and now this. He's probably putting some sort of ethereal magic on me, the kind that turns demon stomachs into knots and cooks them to death slowly. No… that didn't make sense. If he wanted Crawley dead he could have killed him back at the wall, or when he still had the sword. 

“You’re awfully quiet.” The angel spoke, knocking Crawley from his trance-like state, he blushed, had he noticed me staring? 

The demon cleared his throat, “Yeah I’m just- erm- hungry?” 

“Oh,” the angel frowned, “I didn’t know demons got hungry.” 

Me neither “Yeah.” replied Crawley, who wanted no further questioning on the matter. 

The angel stopped wringing at his robes, he was now watching Crawley with some intensity, as if he was trying to figure out some sort of puzzle. He then, slowly and cautiously, began to sink to the ground until he was sitting beside the demon. “Oh!” the angel exclaimed. He smiled brightly in a way that sent shivers down Crawleys serpentine spine, “Why, I've never ‘sat’ before.” 

“How is it?” the demon humored. 

The angel giggled (Crawley didn't know it was possible for an angel to giggle) “I think I rather like it.” He turned to face the demon, his grey-blue eyes giddy with the excitement of it all… before his face sank to a look of horror, “It’s not evil, is it?” 

This earned a surprised snort from the demon, “Sitting? Evil?” 

“Well you’re doing it, aren't you?” The angel defensively accused. 

Crawley laughed even harder at that. The angel pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. 

The pair sat in silence for a while, watching the rainfall over The Garden, the grey fog and the lush green blending together. The storm clouds above swirling and dancing, Crawley thought for a second they reminded him of the angels eyes. 

He really has to remember his name. 

Crawley watched as the angel twisted his hands together in his lap, picking at his cuticles and rubbing his thumbs over his palms. His forearms resting on the tops of his thighs, what looked like the softest things in the world to Crawley. He felt his breath catch in his chest as he imagined how nice it would be to be an arm at that moment. 

“Do you think…” The angel broke the silence, “do you think they’ll be ok out there?” 

Crawley snapped out of his strange musings, “They’ll probably be just fine… what with the sword, and all.” 

The angel whined, unconvinced. 

“It’s like,” Crawley added, still a bit flustered by how hungry he was, “you’re protecting them. You’re a guardian- a guardian angel. Er.” 

“A guardian angel.” The angel beamed, “Oh, I quite like that. Did you come up with that yourself? It’s very clever indeed-” The angel froze.

If Crawley was hungry before, he was absolutely starving now, So he gives away flaming swords, gives shelter to demons, AND compliments them?

Crawley stumbled on his words, “Yes, well, erm-” 

“I have to go.” The angel blurted as he sat upright, “I mean- I’m sure my people will call for me soon. Heaven, angels.” he laughed nervously as he stumbled out of the shelter into the rain, “Oops, damn rain. Goodbye!”

The angel turned to leave, when suddenly it struck him- 

“Aziraphale!” Crawley yelled out.”

Aziraphale turned around, “Yes?” 

“I er-” Crawley stumbled, “I like the rain.” 

Aziraphale smiled, “It is kind of nice, isn't it?”

And then he was gone.

[themuppetmasterencyclopedia]

Miss Piggy's Guide to Life Photos

[naamahdarling]

I realized looking at these that I absolutely still relate to her as a person, not a puppet, and that is magical.

[cannilyuncanny]

In looking at these photos, I'm reminded that people routinely forget that Miss Piggy is not a real person when they interact with the puppet.

[medievalthymes]

dni unless you have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, all the modern languages, all while possessing a certain something in your air and manner of walking, the tone of your voice, your address and expressions-

[pizza-hats-of-the-world-1882]

[anneofgreengaybles]

absolutely no one:

Madeline L’Engle, writing a wrinkle in time at some point in the early 1960s: what are kids into these days? comparative religious studies and theoretical physics, right? Yeah?

[cipheramnesia]

Anxieties! Attack!

[cipheramnesia]

WAIT NO

[cipheramnesia]

No, not me you fools! No! Not like this! Noooo!

[starhowling]

take one pass it along

fist bump

smooch on the cheek

telling you everything's gonna be alright

gentle hug

Voting ended onNov 20, 2023

[fluentisonus]

genuinely inconsolable I can't have one of these pompeii bread plushies fr.