gonna grow you a place safer than this

i went looking for the comic that the reaction image is from and i am not disappointed

Alsjdjskjdks

multi doctor and master story where 12 and missy, purveyors of Intense Hand Holding and teary eyes, meet 13 and Dhawan!Master grinning all feral while they throttle each other and just Being Like That pls

@thoscheian How dare you hide this absolutely slapping analysis in the tags

so me and @yesokayiknow were talking about this yesterday and

the master: yOU BROKE MY ANKLE the doctor: YOU SHOULDN’T HAVE HAD ANKLES THEN i’ve said it before and ill say it again: 13 & dhawan!master are just 2 feral possums fighting over a piece of cheese (via @yesokayiknow)

Aksjdhflgjskdhfjghk beautiful 😂😂😂

okay so plot twist the master DOES die BUT the doctor literally just had the matrix in their mind so they’ve got a version of the master now IN there WITH HER so basically

                     matrix!master 🤝 data ghost!river showing up naked at random times to distract the doctor bc they’re the only one who can see them

Omfg YES

why is the sims so addictive but only for a short amount of time??? like all u do is play the sims u don’t sleep u don’t eat it’s like you’re on drugs for around two days and then forget about it for the next whole year

God creating Adam and Eve then fucking off for the rest of the eternity like

Aksjdhflgjskdhfjghk

artists fuck better because we turn sex into art, masterpieces, mattresses become canvases where we can paint our love to someone with bodies.

its like, impossible to come up with anything funnier than the experience of seeing this post

pharoahs fuck better because they ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh put the pussy in a scarmophogoghs

Akskdhhdksjdkssnh

See, the thing about Crowley is that he’s clever. He’s curious. He asks questions; he wants to know. He’s the only demon with imagination. He was a maker, a builder of stars before he was kicked out of Heaven, and whether he was a master architect or a celestial construction worker doesn’t really matter; he got to put nebulae together and thought it was pretty cool.

If you take a clever, inquisitive, imaginative creature of any species and you deprive it of constructive outlets for its mental energies, eventually, it will become destructive. Or self-destructive. Or both.

And so you get demon Crowley who constructs elaborate plans to take down the London mobile phone network instead of, y’know, just miracling it broken; who goes out and physically moves road markers in his dedication to influencing major infrastructure projects to infernal designs; who plans Ocean’s Eleven-level capers to get holy water (and yes I think that one is at least subconsciously about getting Aziraphale’s attention but it’s not only that); who comes up with a multi-year-long con to influence the child he thinks is the Antichrist; who stages elaborate rescues of his favorite angel; who figures out a way to trick Hastur on the fly and clearly loves it. And I think he genuinely does relish things like the M25 project, because without him making up games and puzzles and problems to solve for himself, life as a demon is incredibly fucking boring. Hell doesn’t really seem like a place where creativity and initiative is encouraged.

I think Crowley constructing these sort of Rube Goldberg sin-generating machines is part of how he deals with being a demon. When push comes to shove, he doesn’t have the stomach for the kind of gleefully sadistic hands-on violence we see some of the other demons display, and he doesn’t have the intellectual disposition for compromising humans’ free will. But it’s not like he can’t be deliberately destructive. Yes, the paintballers aren’t killing each other, but that’s not a consequence-free scenario. But I don’t think Crowley can really let himself think too deeply about that, because at the end of the day, he has to survive as a demon. So he takes what he is doing and he hides it from himself in the form of a game or a puzzle or an experiment, and suddenly it becomes palatable and intellectually engaging and maybe even fun. It’s both a distancing mechanism (hey, I just gave those paintballers the guns; they were the ones who decided to pull the trigger) and a way to keep himself from metaphorically or literally pulling his own feathers out from boredom.

(I think this ties into his ideas about violence, too. The violence we see him most disturbed by–the Flood, the crucifixion, and in the book, the Spanish Inquisition–it’s all violence of the strong against the weak. And someone strong hurting someone too weak to fight back isn’t just cruel; it’s unimaginative. At least give both parties a fighting chance. Now we’ve got something interesting going on.)

Basically what I’m saying is that Crowley is equal parts a nuclear physicist doing cutting-edge research and trying to forget he’s building an atomic bomb, and that parrot who pecked all the keys off someone’s laptop cause he was left unsupervised and under-stimulated. Parsing out how fundamentally “good” or “bad” he is is completely irrelevant, because neither his creative behavior in Heaven or his destructive behavior in Hell are innate. Both are situational.

Okay, but now I’m thinking about what Crowley does after the whole armageddon’t thing is over, and he doesn’t have Heaven’s starmaking or Hell’s mischief to act as a creative outlet.

And sure, he could go out and do all the stuff he was doing before but without backing from Hell, but it wouldn’t be the same. Crowley doesn’t just like creating, he likes getting recognition and praise for the stuff he creates. Look how pleased with himself he is when he’s showing off the M25— he wants that “wahoo!” from his superiors, he probably really likes getting commendations for stuff he’s actually done. Plus there’s the fact that doing bad things because Hell tells you to is one thing— you’re just a guy stuck doing an unpopular job— but doing them just because you want to? That’s no better than Hastur, that is, that’s mean.

He might still have fun creating small-scale inconveniences (he absolutely still glues coins to the pavement outside the shop. Aziraphale tuts and looks disapproving and pretends not to be pleased when the trick ends up distracting potential customers from walking into the shop), but without external approval, I doubt he’d do anything more elaborate.

Aziraphale is different. He likes helping people, but it’s something he wants to do, not something he needs to do. If the world suddenly rearranged itself so that he wasn’t needed anymore, then I’m sure he’d be able to go back to his books and his restaurants and his regency snuffboxes with some relief.

I can certainly see him missing Heaven (not the Heaven he experienced and the way the way they treated him, but the idea of Heaven that he made himself believe in for so long, and the feeling that he had a Purpose and was being a Good Angel) but not the job itself.

Crowley, on the other hand, is going to need something to do.

Every wall in the South Downs cottage, and most of the ceilings, has a mural because Aziraphale thought that it would be nice and, more importantly, it was a long-term project to keep Crowley occupied for a few months.

Their cupboards are full of plates and cups made with varying levels of skill, from the year he took up pottery.

He tries knitting, sketching, embroidery, whittling, sculpting… I dunno, I just like the idea of Crowley needing to find a new creative outlet, but at the same time being kind of overwhelmed by having freedom for the first time in his existence, and just wanting to try absolutely everything.

Have I reblogged this addition? Because I love it.

My headcanon is that they both already have a lot of random skills they’ve picked up over the years, because they’ve had to blend in with humans, and because not all their time on Earth is occupied with working, eating and drinking, and after 6,000 years you need a hobby or two.

I think Crowley already knows a lot of fiber crafts from time spent as a woman-shaped creature. He’ll say that it’s because idle kvetching while you’re weaving or spinning flax or whatever is a good time to introduce temptations, but he likes having something to do with his hands. But it’s not like he could keep any of the stuff he made while he was under Hell’s employ; a hand-kitted afghan isn’t a very demonic look.

But you’d better believe that cottage has 6,000 years of human textile styles in it.

I’m just adding that one of the few scenes I liked from 1992 Screenplay Omens was this scene, which ties in perfectly with @fuckyeahisawthat and @cheeseanonioncrisps commentary:

POLLY Hello, Mister Crowley. Professor Aziraphale? I’m having some trouble with the etruscan pot shards.

AZIRAPHALE Well, let me see them.

He walks over. Looks into the box. It’s full of pottery SHARDS.

AZIRAPHALE Oh, yes. They’re genuine, all right. Let’s see. Probably a grain storage pot.

CROWLEY looks into the box. He takes the SHARDS, and as he talks he BUILDS the pot up out of shards, almost absent-mindedly, fitting the bits together like a jigsaw puzzle.

CROWLEY Thrown by Big Joe the potter the morning after he discovered his wife had run off with a goat-herd. You can see his mark on the side, here. Also a brief and obscene cuneiform inscription about goats.

JLEY (sic) TOSSES POLLY the completed pot, and LEAVES.

POLLY That’s… remarkable. Is Mister Crowley an expert in etruscan pottery?

AZIRAPHALE No. He owns a nightclub.

That last line killed me 😂😂😂

i cannot believe the master has now canonically admitted that he, like, regularly commits atrocities just to get the doctor’s attention.  i mean it was always true but now it’s canon.

YEP XD

THAT FUCKING ENDING I'M DEAD

#i came in like a wrecking ball

Oh my god

I think “Hey, fuck you, buddy. I spent the night learning to riverdance,” is going to be my go-to excuse for everything, now. –AW

Look me in the eye…. I’m too cool for this shit.

For the last time……. I don’t give a shit.

Honestly... I'm too cool for this shit

Omfg

Good Omens fanvid with Queen’s Fat Bottomed Girls, and it’s only scenes of Aziraphale’s bottom

@flashbastardwithsunglasses

Ummm yeah????? His name is Crowley????

i had to take a minute to recompose myself..

Omfg

It’ll be a year full of cockups

Bahahahaha 😂😂😂

Anthony “I’m not like other demons” Crowley

“Ooh look me I don’t talk to other demons only my angel boyfriend you know I didn’t REALLY fall I just sauntered vaguely downwards I’m too cool to wear a little creature on my head and I’m not covered in shit” nice internalized demonphobia there bud

Oh my god

okay but here's a Very Important Question: is the Bentley Crowley's first car?

given how attached he is to it, you'd certainly think so, but I'm actually skeptical of that, because practical automobiles for sale to the public first became A Thing in the late 1880s/early 1890s, and the Bentley is a late 1920s model. that means we've got almost four decades between the popularization of the internal combustion engine and the production of Crowley's Bentley.

so even if we assume Crowley didn't wake up from his depression nap until 1900 or so, that still leaves a gap of almost 30 years and I have a hard time picturing Anthony "pen so slick it looked like it could break the sound barrier, cutting edge computer he has no idea how to use but it's cool and modern so he's gotta have it" Crowley letting three whole decades go without jumping on the whole horseless carriage bandwagon. he's been wanting to get away from having to deal with animal-based transportation for thousands of years, you can't tell me he wouldn't have jumped on that at absolute top speed as soon as he became aware of the option.

which in turn raises the question: what was he driving before he got his hands on the Bentley?

like I legitimately cannot stop thinking about Crowley bopping around the countryside in a Peugeot Bébé in the nineteen-aughts:

just picture it. picture it. you know you want to.

You realize that Peugeot has a top speed of like 20 miles an hour, right? Can you imagine Crowley just having an Undying Need for Speed and miracling the damn thing to zip around at about 60 miles an hour while everyone else is terrified that young gent with the flaming red hair is gonna have his eyeballs fly out of his sockets?

YES EXACTLY

Bahahahaha yesss XD

Whenever I see people quoting/referencing/parodying My Immortal it’s always one of the same four or five lines. You know the ones.

The iconic opening paragraph, “Hi my name is Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair… (et cetera).”

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING YOU MOTHERFUKERS!”

“I MAY BE A HOGWARTS STUDENT… BUT I AM ALSO A SATANIST!”

“Then he put his thingie into my you-know-what and we did it for the first time.”

“And Loopin was masticating to it!”

As great as those are, I’d like to throw a spotlight on what I think are some of the underappreciated parts of this classic work of fanfiction.

This is truly the classic of our generation. I want students to explicate this for AP tests.

Bahahahaha

wanna hear a wild story? my brother’s history professor is closing in on 80 and basically lives at the university. one night my brother visited him for a meeting, and it came up that my brother was gonna be performing as a court jester at the castle the following day. and his professor busts out: “ah, that reminds me of my youth!”

he then proceeded to tell the tale of when he and his friends went backpacking to greece back in their early 20s. then one day they found themselves completely penniless. so they decided that the only reasonable thing to do was to set up acrobatic shows in skimpy outfits on the beach at day, and then drink up the money at night.

after a week or so they gained some traction, and a gang of young greek men walked up to them like “hey y’all are cool as hell, can we join y’all for drinks tonight?” and my brother’s professor was like “of course! y’all have to wear these revealing outfits and do somersaults with us tho” and the greek gang said “sounds dope. y’all are invited to live with us for however long y’all want.”

anyhow, they proceeded to live like this for the better part of 3 months, doing shows, drinking, and sleeping at the greek gang’s apartment. but after a while they decided enough was enough, and said thank you for everything, but we’re going back to sweden now. and the greeks said “sure! love y’all have a safe trip xx”

half a year later my brother’s professor gets contacted by the greek police. they ask him about the months they spent in greece, and then informs him that their greek friends have been convicted of serial homicide and robbery. that the group of young greek men had joined up with several tourist groups for several years “for drinks”, and then killed and robbed them all, terrorising the beach city for several years. with one exception, of course, because “this one group of swedish acrobats in slutty strongman suits were just ‘so damn nice’”.

and that’s the story of how one swedish history university professor survived sharing a flat with a group of serial killers for several months by performing acrobatics in slutty outfits on the beach. moral of the story? be kind of heart, thicc of ass.