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thenerdrant · 5 hours
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thenerdrant · 5 hours
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thenerdrant · 5 hours
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I think some screaming music would heal me right now.
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thenerdrant · 5 hours
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stop that's so funny 💀
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thenerdrant · 5 hours
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thenerdrant · 5 hours
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@j-phone-time’s reverse aziracrow because THEY SLAY💅✨
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thenerdrant · 5 hours
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The Great Lakes and Saint Lawrence River superimposed on a map of Europe
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thenerdrant · 5 hours
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That time Crowley was a jester and Aziraphale a minstrel…….
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thenerdrant · 6 hours
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ok here's one
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thenerdrant · 6 hours
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thenerdrant · 6 hours
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Do you evere feeel
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thenerdrant · 6 hours
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An asexual and pansexual become room-mates and have wacky adventures
The show is called ‘All or Nothing’
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thenerdrant · 7 hours
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And a couple of thirsty closeups
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Aziraphale was already plenty sleepless about coming across her thatcher at the town center, thank you very much, without her unconscious mind taking...liberties with a thing or two.
the fic is going to be a Crowley POV so we don't get a chance to witness Aziraphale's very real trials and tribulations of being a lesbian but thats why im here. making us all parched.
ko-fi
cottage au
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thenerdrant · 7 hours
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I know everyone likes the term The Thin Dark Duke for Crowley, but the term is a twist on The Thin White Duke, which is David Bowie. It is a lyric from the song Station to Station from an Album of the same title....
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It is a fabulous album... the lyrics remind me of Crowley too. It talks of Demons and It's too late.... so as well as Queen I like to think Crowley hung out with David Bowie... he just had to... along with Iggy Pop and Lou Reed.
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He was probably just out of shot in this photo Mick Rock took in 1972. Lol.
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.................
Station to Station
The return of the Thin White Duke
Throwing darts in lovers' eyes
Here are we, one magical moment, such is the stuff
From where dreams are woven
Bending sound, dredging the ocean, lost in my circle
Here am I, flashing no colour
Tall in this room overlooking the ocean
Here are we, one magical movement from Kether to Malkhuth
There are you, you drive like a demon from station to station
The return of the Thin White Duke, throwing darts in lovers' eyes
The return of the Thin White Duke, throwing darts in lovers' eyes
The return of the Thin White Duke, making sure white stains
Once there were mountains on mountains
And once there were sunbirds to soar with
And once I could never be down
Got to keep searching and searching
Oh, what will I be believing and who will connect me with love?
Wonderful, wonder who, wonder when
Have you sought fortune, evasive and shy?
Drink to the men who protect you and I
Drink, drink, drain your glass, raise your glass high
TWO TIMES:
It's not the side-effects of the cocaine
I'm thinking that it must be love
It's too late - to be grateful
It's too late - to be late again
It's too late - to be hateful
The european cannon is here
I must be only one in a million
I won't let the day pass without her
It's too late - to be grateful
It's too late - to be late again
It's too late - to be hateful
The european cannon is here
Should I believe that I've been stricken?
Does my face show some kind of glow?
It's too late - to be grateful
It's too late - to be late again
It's too late - to be hateful
The european cannon is here, yes it's here
It's too late
It's too late, it's too late, it's too late, it's too late
The european cannon is here
...........
Some bits remind me of the book... mountains, throwing darts... them trying to get Maggie and Nina together ... lots of bits.
I partly adore Crowley for the absolute Bowiesque-ness!
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And I have seen Crowley's eyes before
The man who fell to earth, before we got the angel who fell to earth.
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David Bowie in The Man who Fell to Earth
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He he !!!
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thenerdrant · 7 hours
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im sorry i literally cannot get this out of my head since last night
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thenerdrant · 7 hours
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thenerdrant · 7 hours
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my family is fucking addicted to macgyvering and it's becoming a problem. every time something in this house breaks, instead of doing the sensible thing of replacing it or calling someone qualified to fix it, we all group around the offending object with a manic look in our eyes and everyone gets a try at fixing it while being cheered on or ridiculed by the rest.
it's a beautiful bonding activity, but the "creative" fixes have turned our house into a quasihaunted escape room like contraption where everything works, but only in the wonkiest of ways. you need a huge block of iron to turn on the stove. the oven only works if a specific clock is plugged in. the bread machine has a huge wood block just stapled to it that has become foundational to its function. sometimes when you use the toaster the doorbell rings. and that's just the kitchen.
it's all fun and games until you have guests over and you have to lay out the rules of the house like it's a fucking board game. welcome to the beautiful guest room. don't pull out the couch yourself you need a screwdriver for that, and that metal rod makes the lamp work so don't move it. it also made me a terrifying roommate in college, because it makes me think i can fix anything with enough hubris and a drill. you want to call the landlord about a leaky faucet? as if. one time my dad made me install a new power socket because we ran our of extension cords
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