Absolutely love it when fics have Holmes trying to play off an injury as less serious than it actually is, but let's be real - that man is dramatic. If he was a dog, he'd be the type to fake a paw injury for extra treats and attention but forget which foot he used.

tags from @skyriderwednesday (thank you because I was too lazy to do this.)

very good point from @amypihcs

“Oh, I have to stay in bed all day? I’m fine, Watson. You’re overreacting.”

vs.

“Watson, I stubbed my toe and it is absolutely necessary for you to allow me to hold your arm wherever we go for the next week.”

Thought about this again and I believe we deserve both. So consider: This changing through the years!

1881 Holmes who wants to be all aloof and ✨️mysterious✨️ (because he knows Watson loves a mystery so the best way to secure his interest is to be one) - not allowing Watson to check his injuries/withdrawing when he's not well, and only allowing Watson to intervene when he really really cannot manage alone.

Vs. Holmes a few years in who is absolutely sure of Watson's unwavering friendship and affection, and will just allow himself to whine about everything because he's a drama queen, and although he has 100% of Watson's attention anyway, he doesn't mind having 120.

Because I'm in a sharing mood and have some extra time:

I've put this in a few other places, so if you see it floating around elsewhere it's me. As far as I know, I'm the only one with this headcanon.

After the Job debacle, Jemima keeps trying to summon Crawley. Not intentionally, and not by way of hellish ritual or anything. She just keeps praying to God for "that funny demon" to come back and play with her.

Crawley can feel it. At first he laughs it off, but after a while it gets annoying. So one day he goes back to Job's place to tell Jemima to stop doing that to tell her that she can't be doing that. He means to tell her off, really. But she ends up showing him all of her new pottery projects. By the time she eventually ends up plaiting his hair he makes up his mind to tell her...

When Sitis comes in, wondering who Jemima is talking to. She sees Crawley, recognizes him.

"Ah Bildad the Shuhite, how lovely to see you again. You're staying for dinner of course." Then she leaves, presumably to get dinner going. Crawley is left speechless, mouth open, no words, not given a choice.

At the dinner table, he feels out of place. Ennon and Kesiah keep looking at him funny, and once or twice they try to ask questions, but Sitis shushes them. After they eat, Crawley is given an open invitation to join them again next week. He says no.

Sitis sets him a place anyway.

He shows up.

Each dinner he's given another invitation. Each time he declines. Each time Sitis sets him a place anyway. Each time he shows up anyway. It's almost like she's known his type before. The type who are prickly on the outside, but sweet on the inside and just wanting someone who is willing to hold them regardless of the thorns. The only other person ever to do that has been Aziraphale, and Someone Knows where he is these days.

Next thing he knows, Crawley has actually become Bildad the Shuhite: Family Friend. He is around regularly, and even Ennon and Kesiah don't mind him so much, although they still roll their eyes at him whenever they think they can get away with it.

He tells Jemima his real name ONCE. While the two of them are alone, playing Tea Party with her dolls.

She mishears "Crawley" as "Crowley."

He keeps it.

Head canon accepted.

Also, might I offer an addition: the J stands for Jemima.

Darn it I might have to write this.

WRITE ITTTTT

it came to my realization that 99% of my fandom related headaches would be cured if everyone understood this

a comic i made is being sold on a shelf at my favorite cb store as of today and this post is still my biggest accomplishment of the day

This headcanon guide, if understood, would also reduce the Asks I get by about half.

one of my headcanons is that Crowley invented the saying “keep your friends close and your enemies closer” as an excuse just in case the demons found that he was with Aziraphale

Anything can be canon if you're brave enough, Neil 💀

With the greatest respect, that's not how canon works. Canon is what's on the pages of the book, or what's on the TV screen. If I were to answer questions about things that aren't ever told on the page or the screen it wouldn't be canon. It would be my headcanon (and has been occasionally noted as such) unless or until it's in a story and on screen or on the page.

If someone asks if fictional character X met real life character Y, if it's not on the page or the screen, my answer is pretty much always going to be "write it yourself and find out". (The same rule applies to non fictional and for other fictional characters. Crowley's shenanigans convincing Arthur Conan Doyle that there are fairies at the bottom of his garden is as much not my story as Aziraphale's asking Holmes and Watson for assistance after being accused of stealing a rare book from the British Museum.)

One of the interesting things about being in fandom for ages is seeing where fannish terminology evolves or stays the same.

For instance, in my experience, "headcanon" originally referred pretty specifically to filling in the spaces in a canon. It meant the things that you bring to a canon when you read or watch or listen to it, and which form part of your experience of the canon, but aren't stated in it (or at least, aren't explicitly stated). The idea is that you're filling up the blank spaces that are already present in the canon as it is, so the earlier concept tended to be compliant with the fandom's canon, just with people's own additions to it. The canon-compliance was part of the point.

But these days, it's more just kind of ... things we like to imagine happening or existing with regard to a canon, but which can definitely be inconsistent with the original canon to the point of being very AU. The change used to bother me, tbh, but eventually I stopped minding and now I often use it that way myself.

Some things have obviously always meant the same things, though, and there are some where I am immovable (I will go to my grave believing that a drabble is precisely 100 words!).

IDK, I just find it kind of intriguing.

The Joke

Angelic beings are feathered

Angelic beings can have scales (exhibit: Crowley)

Feathers + scales = dinosaur

Therefore, angelic beings are dinosaurs. This is the joke palaeontologists haven’t caught on to yet.

For those addressing a prayer to the former guardian of the Eastern Gate of Eden, please note the following:

- Do not pray during mealtimes (including mid-morning brunches, afternoon tea, supper, and midnight snacks)

- Begin politely, such as “Dear Mister Aziraphale”, or “Hello, terribly sorry to bother you...”

- Don’t hold out much hope for a response

- You may ask for advice, but in the rare event he does give you any, don’t trust it (he means well...)

- Do not use modern slang, he won’t understand

- If possible, pray in English, Latin, or enochian. His other languages, french especially, are rusty.

- Make sure to thank him very sincerely for listening (if he wasn’t listening, this will make him feel bad, and he may play back the prayer to pay attention properly this time)

- Leave your name, number and current home address at the end of the prayer, and you may find that your luck improves over the next few days. Maybe.

John’s final message to Sherlock. “One more miracle, for me.” This part is so goddamn painful.

The second I heard him say it, “it was all a miracle” was incluided in the speech in my headcanon.

You don’t even necessarily need to lose a friend to know the meaning of the word “miracle”. Sometimes you have a person, or people, in your life that CAN’T HAPPEN, shouldn’t, couldn’t have happened if the laws of nature and the universe whatnot had the slightiest bit of sense left, but there they are, the unbelievable and amazing people and you, YOU know them. It’s the overwhelming feeling of privilege and gratitude of knowing them and having the possibility to be with them.

To John, Sherlock is that unbelievable coincidence that completed his life - a MIRACLE.

</dramatic>

</but I mean it>

I notice that in a lot of High School AUs for Good Omens, people tend to make Crowley the “bad boy” type, all cool and smug and badass, smokes cigarettes and kicks ass, but like...I just don’t see it.

So I propose this concept: teen Crowley, BUT he’s those greasy “weird” kids that claims he can see the dead, wears hoodies in 90° weather, and naruto-runs and hisses at you in the hallway.

mmhmm, i could see aziraphale as the book nerd, and crowley as the science nerd. aziraphale volunteers at the library reshelving books, while crowley builds his own computer and writes programs that do obscure weird but sorta cool things.

So, following the post about Crowley’s plants, I started looking for English language sources on that legend about Women’s and Men’s happiness flowers. First of all, the funny stuff. I found the article and here's the first thing I saw:

Also, an important addition to the legend: the supposed magical powers of the plants (the ability to bring love and harmony) will only work if one manages to make them bloom. 

So now I have a new headcanon:

Crowley is so harsh with his plants because his ultimate goal is to make both  Spathiphyllum and Anthurium bloom. He managed to keep all the plants in excellent condition but none of them would produce flowers. That explains why he throws the “defective” plant away. 

In the end, the flowers start blooming only when Aziraphale finally comes to his flat.

Okay so I don’t know if this has been done, but I have a fun little headcanon that makes me giggle and I wanna talk about, so here we go!

So it’s always kinda confused my that Aziraphale doesn’t fall, not that I want him to by any means, but he’s not a very good angel. He even admits that himself when he gets sent back to heaven after the summoning circle. 

Listen, the man gives away his sword and straight up lies to God’s face like a week after being on earth. It seems to me that Gabriel and the other archangels don’t know, but are we really pretending She doesn’t? Not only does She Know All,  he really is a terrible liar. I don’t think Gabriel picks up on it because he’s so far in his own head he just assumes this little pleb angel wouldn’t dare lie to him, but She isn’t so ignorant. 

After his First Rebellion he continues to push it, talking to Crowley, sheltering him with his wing on top of the wall in full view of God, Satan, and the other angels/demons, and still, nothing, he’s still sitting pretty fully connected to God’s Grace with his nice white fluffy wings. So he pushes. 

Keep reading

I’ve been thinking lately about the Raphael headcanon and why I became so fond of it so quickly, why it’s still important to me. What it means to me. So this is my personal read and take on it and why it factors into some of my writing.

(Here’s a quick caveat that in this blog we love and support all headcanons! These are all fictional interpretations of fictional stories and I am here to celebrate all toys and sandboxes. <3)

For some background, I’ve always been a big fan of Paradise Lost and Raphael was always the most approachable angel in the Bible (and therefore my favorite), so I was more than a little fond of him to start. 

I like the Raphael headcanon because I think that Crowley is incredibly average. This is why:

I love that both Crowley and Aziraphale are, for all intents and purposes, not that important in the grand scheme of things. They are no princes nor dukes. They don’t have any particularly special powers. They can be disposed of and it really won’t matter. Not really. Heaven and Hell both make that abundantly clear. They’re just - people, really. Just an angel and just a demon. Stuck on Earth and grunting through their jobs (that they’re not even particularly good at) and mostly thinking about the next meal or drink. They file paperwork and look for shortcuts. They’re just so wonderfully normal and it’s a delight to me that they are. They, as normal and not especially-powered or specially anointed beings, get to save the world.

To think of Crowley as having once been an archangel (and more importantly, no longer being an archangel) parallels the story of so many kids that are told they’re gifted and talented. Told that they’re brilliant. That they can move the stars with their skills. Told that they, through no special work of their own, will do great things. It’s expected that they will be amazing. They will go to Ivy League schools, they will write the Next Great Novel. They will create masterpieces of everything they touch. 

They will never need to work for it. They were born to this. 

Eventually, as this lied-to child grows older, they begin to see through it. They see the privilege for what it is, that they’ve been placed on a dais, a pedestal, given laurels for nothing of their own. As they look around, they begin to see that they are not especially talented, that they must work for their own success. 

That they are, in fact, normal and everyday people, despite what they’ve been told. 

I like to see Crowley as this. He is told he will do great things, he is set up for success. But he’s a doubtful sort, his mouth has always been too full of questions (here they are, always spilling out). So he begins to ask why am I special? The answer that comes (because you are) is never satisfying. It doesn’t mean anything. It’s empty and rings hollow. He questions and questions and questions. He sees his cloud pedestal for what it is. Nothing. Useless. Something he was given and has not earned. 

He is not special. He’s everyday. He’s average. 

So he asks more questions. If that’s a lie, what else is? Eventually, we know where the story goes. Lucifer and the guys, a million-light-year freefall. And why should he get special treatment in Hell? A place that doesn’t give a damn for Heaven’s falsehoods? He isn’t special, so he isn’t made to be down there. He exists just as he truly is, a regular demon doing regular things. 

We all look the same without a crown. Without a halo. He’s no different after all.

And this is why I love it. I love the idea that these two come to this story bringing their normalcy, found in different ways. Aziraphale has never been told he’s special (in fact, quite the opposite). With this headcanon, Crowley has (and found it to ring false). 

In the end, they are somewhere in the middle. Normal and everyday. Like we’re all just human. Their specialness doesn’t lie in something they were born to or what they were expected to do. It doesn’t lie in what they were given or told. It doesn’t matter, none of that matters. It just matters that they exist and they love the world and everything in it. 

And each other too.

This this this!

Interesting take.

mmhmm!

MMHMM.