fearandhatred - Tumblr blog

[fearandhatred]

Crowaphale

[fearandhatred]

BESTIE IS GETTING ME A FOX JAW NECKLACE WE ALL CHEERED

[fearandhatred]

seeing people i recognise from the good omens fandom in my marvel notifs is so funny

[fearandhatred]

Relentlessly

Honeyed words I can’t resist,

A poison masked in every kiss

They melt my doubts with tender lies,

And drown me in your soothing eyes

I fell for you, a tangled mess,

A heart that knows but can’t confess,

You’re flawed, yet still, I cannot flee,

A prisoner to what shouldn’t be

You pull me close, then push away,

I’m drowning, yet I choose to stay,

For in this pain, there’s something sweet,

A bitter taste I can’t defeat

In loving you, I’ve lost parts of me,

Trapped in a cycle I can’t set free.

This love, so fierce, so wild, so pure,

Is a fire that consumes, with no hope for a cure.

And as I stand at the edge of this endless sea,

One truth remains clear, it’s plain to see—

I love you, with a depth that’s breaking me,

And it’s destroying me, relentlessly

-

ha y'all thought i stepped over to the bright side with my happy poems? think again i have so much sadness in me

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated💙

leave a comment on ao3?

hello @crowleys-hips @bearthewhipsandscornsoftime @fearandhatred @ghostsparrow @eybefioro @seven-stars-in-his-palm @ficreader500 @foolishlovers @sabotage-on-mercury @crowleys-curl @crowleybrekkers @goodomensafterdark @notagoodlad @lickthecowhappy @goodoldfashionednightingale @spookyllamatree @wanderer-main @ineffabildaddy @marika-misc @captainblou @weasleywrinkles @chaoticgayomens @amagnificentobsession @thebookshoparoundthecorner @quintessentiallychemical @naturallyteal

[fearandhatred]

[fearandhatred]

also somehow its so hard sending asks just saying things like "how are you" so that's why i havent said much but uh yeah. yeah

it really is... and i am just bad at conversation in general and Remembering to start conversations so. yeah x2 😞

[fearandhatred]

so i was thinking about you and i just decided to go looking at your other tumblr thinking "hmmm i wonder if the brainrot spread elsewhere and that's why i haven't seen much" and it turns out i was correct. i hope they're treating you well there 🫡 obligatory i miss you message 🤭❤️

AUGUST MY BELOVED 4EVER 😭😭😭💖💖 marvel tumblr has been so fun tbh especially being back there after years but i do miss the mutuals if nothing else... YOU AS WELL!! btw i did get the email about the new fic u posted and best believe i will be getting to that. and when u update ur stars in a jar fic..... ohhh i will be eating that shit up and then i will be yapping at you on discord. u can't get rid of me!!!

[fearandhatred]

this is just a good omens cold open

[fearandhatred]

R.I.P. The 2976 American people that lost their lives on 9/11 and R.I.P. the 48,644 Afghan and 1,690,903 Iraqi and 35000 Pakistani people that paid the ultimate price for a crime they did not commit

[fearandhatred]

hiiii! i love your blog, the work you do is amazing!! can i recommend transitional heart taxidermy by fear and hatred? it’s such an amazing underrated fic that’s so different to anything else i’ve read for this fandom!!

the link isn’t working for some reason sorry :(

Of course you can, dear!

transitional heart taxidermy by fearandhatred [Rated M, 20k words]

Aziraphale comes back wrong. Crowley tries his damnedest to figure out what happened, until he doesn't.

-Mod AB

[fearandhatred]

Please click for better resolution!

I made this silly little art, and then like a being possessed, wrote 1200 words of pure unadulterated hogwash to go with it (ficlet below the cut)

Duck Duck Goose

Rating: Teen and up

"Shouldn't be feeding them bread." Crowley said, trying and failing to ward off an irate goose with the pointed toe of his boot. "It’s brioche." Aziraphale chided, as if that explained anything. A nattering crowd of ducks was forming at his feet like eager disciples. Crowley didn't ask where he'd gotten the brioche. He'd stuck his chilly hands into Aziraphale's pockets enough times now to know the list of things the angel kept on his person at any given moment was - well, impressive was one word for it. In the way a magpie's hoard of oddities was impressive. A brioche was quite pedestrian, really. "Brioche then.” The goose had moved on to striking repeatedly for his ankles, more pit viper than waterfowl. “Shouldn’t. Feed them. Brioche,” he gritted between defensive maneuvers. He never had gotten the hang of sword fighting. If Aziraphale heard, he pretended not to, ripping off hunks of bread at least double the esophagus diameter of the average mallard duck. One at a time, he tossed them lazily into the fray. The ducks erupted into chattering, nipping each other’s feathers. A shark frenzy had more natural order to it.

The goose took no interest, bloodlust overriding any desire for fine French baked goods. If anything, it doubled its effort to latch onto Crowley’s shin. Had geese always had teeth?

Aziraphale beamed at the chaos, halogen bright. Humming with self satisfaction, he brushed his hands of crumbs, and settled back against the bench. Crowley diverted a sliver of bodily coordination to snake one arm behind him, weaseling into the warm gap left by the angel’s impeccable posture.

This was a thing they did now, apparently. Not watching ducks squabble over bread – that part was old hat. But Aziraphale tucking himself neatly against Crowley's side? For all the world to see. Like he was one of Crowley's wings simply stowing away. Frankly, that hat still had the tag on it. Still had that new hat smell.

This was rapidly becoming their new normal. Embroidery on the familiar weave of their time together. They still did all the things they always had. They still went to the Ritz, where the waiter still assumed Aziraphale was paying for the bill. Crowley still pulled out the angel’s seat like a proper gentledemon.

None of that had changed.

Just now they also held hands on the table between courses, and Aziraphale fed Crowley bites of dessert straight from his spoon. Sometimes they even did exciting things with their feet under the table.

Aziraphale called it canoodling. Crowley was pretty sure that was a fussy type of dog. The kind that wore bows on its head and left the groomer looking like an ornamental hedge.

Whatever it was, it was nice. More than nice.

Take today for example. The clouds were parting, birds singing – the whole production; the sun sparkled just so, really putting the ol’ razzle dazzle on it all.

There went Aziraphale, tipping his head back against Crowley’s shoulder, eyes closing. Lashes sun-gilt and fanning on his rosy cheeks. Straight out of a renaissance painting. A nice, expensive renaissance painting, on with real lapis lazuli pigment for the eyes. The angel really knew when to lay it on thick.

“Oh, that’s quite nice, isn’t it.” Aziraphale sighed, basking in the warmth.

See, nice? It was nice. Five hundred years of coming here, and this moment was the most nice it had ever been. Crowley remembered when this place was a marshy field full of roving geese and snuffling pigs. When the trees that made this nice bench were just scrawny little saplings, runty and wind bitten. Had the bench gotten smaller? It used to feel immense, and not in the luxury Cadillac sense of the word. Used to fit Heaven and Hell between them with room to spare. Back when nice was a four letter –

The goose sunk it’s – definitely toothed – beak into Crowley’s shin, just above the boot.

Satisfied with its grip, it started to flail, giving the impression Crowley was a chewtoy it meant to thrash to death. The small part of Crowley’s brain reserved for humility was starting to believe it would succeed.

"Dinner? How would you feel about a nice, tasty Christmas goose?” Grunted Crowley, shaking his leg and raising his free hand, demonic miracle at the ready. He had just the goose in mind. “With all the trimmings. Could even do some plum sauce on the side if you like,"

Aziraphale frowned, eyes still closed. “…it’s October.”

“That a no, then? Don’t want to get a head start on the festivities?”

Aziraphale looked up just as Crowley managed to dislodge the fowl beast and punt it away like a feathery football. It came right back, tongue stuck out like a rude child and wheezing angrily.

He tsked, mouth thinning. “You’re terrible. Leave the poor thing alone.”

Crowley sputtered. “Wha – ha – me?! I’m not the one biting a boot like a lunatic!” Would that work? Biting it? Maybe the goose would bugger off if Crowley bit it back. Should he bite it back? He should probably bite it, shouldn’t he. Oh, Satan, he was going to get feathers stuck in his teeth.

The infernal creature hissed, undoubtedly reading his mind. Crowley hissed back, tongue forking menacingly if only for the sake of his own ego.

Aziraphale was staring at him and smiling. Well, smirking. Fondly. The corners of his mouth pinching his cheeks, eyes crinkling under a raised eyebrow. He even had a dimple forming on his chin. Ridiculous. Something in the inner workings of Crowley’s chest did its best impression of a snare drum.

“Shall we, my dear?” Said the Very Ridiculous Angel, stirring from Crowley’s side. He stood and straightened his jumper until there were no more wrinkles. Seeing Crowley still engaged in boot-to-beak combat with the feathery fiend, he added tartly: “Before someone gets killed.”

Crowley grumbled something about demonic wrath and taking bets, but slunk to his feet. He flicked his glasses down and shot a final, venomous glare at the goose before sidling up to Aziraphale and offering his arm.

Aziraphale took it, wedging warm hands into the crook of Crowley’s elbow. He made it look habitual, easy as. Just the natural thing to do. Right as rain.

He was faster than Crowley, at this part. At the settling in. He’d taken to it all like geese to psychological warfare.

“You mentioned dinner?” Said Aziraphale brightly, ducks parting obediently at their feet.

“Your turn to pick.” Crowley’s skin was sizzling, water on a hot frying pan.

Aziraphale was quiet for a moment, face thoughtful. He took dinner plans very seriously.

“How about Peking duck? From that lovely place just around the corner, the one with the comfortable chairs.”

Crowley gave him a sharp look, nearly spraining an eyebrow in the process.

The angel was looking resolutely ahead, expression perfectly blank save for the way his mouth twitched at the corners.

I love you, blurted Crowley’s brain.

“Every restaurant has comfortable chairs,” blurted his mouth. It was a fact. Every restaurant did have comfortable chairs. Or else. So far Crowley hadn’t met a chair that cared to find out about the or else – chairs not being very curious by nature.

Crowley would say all the other things later, of course. All the sappy, corny, sweet-nothing things. When they were home. When he could wash the burn down with something whispered and sinfully filthy. Something that would make Aziraphale turn pinker than a summer peach.

Aziraphale was watching him, gaze unspeakably soft. “I know, my dear,” he said.

“I know.”

[fearandhatred]

ATTENTION MACBETH-GOING MUTUALS

i have officially booked flight tickets so anyone who will be in london from 9th to ~20th december and/or are going for macbeth on 10th or closing night!! this is a psp (public service plea):

please

[fearandhatred]

ATTENTION MACBETH-GOING MUTUALS

i have officially booked flight tickets so anyone who will be in london from 9th to ~20th december and/or are going for macbeth on 10th or closing night!! this is a psp (public service plea):

please

[fearandhatred]

​HE WINKED

(x)

zoom in and raise the brightness and you can see the flutter of his left eye closing behind the glasses, but there’s zero matching flutter on the other side, his right eye stays open. he winks from behind his sunglasses.

CROWLEY. WINKED. AT. AZIRAPHALE.

[fearandhatred]

wow i thought we were past this but people surprise me every time so i have popped back here to say this. which y'all can ignore but like. okay

can i just say that my opinion hasn't changed (nor should it have) just because it turns out the creator is trans and is using money from this trend to fund her surgery? good for her genuinely but like what's the connection here lol. do i think that she made this trend consciously knowing the tradfem connotations of the word demure? almost definitely not lmfao. but either way it shouldn't be "this trend isn't harmful because she's trans". you can be any gender or sexual orientation or race or religion and still be racist and misogynist and homophobic. like that is not the point of contention here 😭

the point is that the harmful rhetoric is there no matter the intention or the person behind it, and even if it starts off harmless at first, it will eventually make its way to corners that actually adopt this rhetoric. see above. literally see what i said in the original post

the point is that i just saw a video of a girl saying "wearing a swim dress because i feel uncomfortable in bikinis" and the comments were saying "a swim dress is very considerate, very demure". i don't think i need to spell out the implications of that :) even if people don't intend it that way it can still come off that way because people don't think. and the subconscious plays way bigger of a role in shaping your mindset than you think besties! harmful rhetoric is harmful rhetoric no matter what so my point is let's fucking think

when my friend and i were talking about how that stupid demure tiktok trend is not only annoying as hell but subtly edging tradfeminism and then just a few days ago i saw the trend being used unironically on tradfem tiktok (a conservative saying kamala harris isn't demure for still not having any biological kids)... what's it like to always be right you ask

[fearandhatred]

thank u for the tag bestie!!!!

egg: anything but i love the yolk consistency in fried eggs

steak: medium rare baby

milk: ...normal

alcohol: i do not drink

warm drink: hot green tea... hot hojicha.... chamomile...

potato: Yes but also FRIES

spice tolerance: no 😭 i like eating spicy food but i have a really low tolerance lmaoo

[fearandhatred]

how many times can i play subway by chappell roan in the car before my dad realises it's lesbian