#alex is forgetful

[void-dude]

I am in desperate need to draw Tad strange. No not the canonical human, I mean the crazy square the fandom made up before the episode revealed. I wanna make my own Tad strange I really wanna do that. I think he'd be friends with Stanley.

[willgrahamscock]

You cannot be a lesbian if you like men btw.

oh shit my bad, I wasn't aware I had to ask anonymous tumblr users for permission to gaze upon women lustfully

[ryllen]

🌾 . 🍚

[a-crystalclearsquid]

“i remember when jason was little, he was so cute- oh well, he’s still cute now”

[angstflavoured]

love my grunkle just as he is

[ahsokatanos-lightsabertechnique]

Okay I love the new rwrb movie but it was kind of funny to me how much they toned it down. Like in the movie you have Alex gently tell Henry "we need to talk" when he confronts him, meanwhile, in the book:

[staracket]

more deer alex for the soul

[arunswild]

I don't really know what to say. This morning I got the news that six of the hostages were found dead, recently shot. I know the family of one of them, and they are the bravest and most resilient people I know. They gave me, and, well, everyone hope that their son would be back. I fully believed he would. Everyone did. I guess we just expected him to turn up one day at synagogue after all this time.

There are a few thoughts going through my head right now. Most of them start with the word "why", like,

Why did a 23 year old spend 11 out of the 12 months of his 23rd year in a tunnel?

Why do baby-murdering, hostage-taking, house-burning militias live two hours away from my house?

and

Why do I, an 18 year old, fresh out of highschool, know three dead people, ranging in ages from 19 to 32?

Some of them start with the words "what", like

What are they going to do now?

What awful, awful heartbreak am I going to hear about next?

and

What the fuck?

[aritany]

it’s been AGES since i’ve done one of these so: writeblr! what are we working on?

reblog this with your elevator pitch (and aesthetics/moodboards if you feel like it), link your WIP intros or relevant excerpts you’d like boosted, and i’ll do my damnedest to reblog everybody who responds in the next few days.

(P.S. bonus points if you tell me your favourite thing about it)

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

the cutest little bag of nerves 🥺

[creative-clawmarks]

I get that your Alex is a fucking creature.

But also, Alex is my favourite, so...

I just see this, but with depression.

Amy POV your pathetic animal of a boyfriend is so so hungry but he's too ashamed to ask you for blood.

[reefsharkivist]

hi it’s seal time

[willgrahamscock]

You're always going to be a woman freak

actually i'm always going to be a freak regardless of my gender

[bricreative]

🚨Last issue of Forget Me Not is out!! 🚨

The story wraps up in such a sweet way, lotta cute moments with Steph and Alex, and we get to see some familiar faces

[actual-changeling]

No, because has anyone ever thought about that last New Year's Eve they spent together??????

They were not-really-pretending anymore, probably at the bookshop getting drunk and talking about all the historical special events they had experienced during that time, the New Year's Eves they spent alone, and the few rare ones they celebrated together.

Do you think they were both sitting on the sofa, shoes toed off, Crowley sprawling like usual, while Aziraphale was propped up in a corner, one leg folded underneath him? The television was running on mute in the background so they wouldn't miss the ball drop, a particularly special bottle of champagne was waiting on the table, knowing better than to lose its chill.

Do you think Crowley was talking, his hands flying to accommodate his words, when he felt Aziraphale's stare on him? Do you think he stopped in the middle of his sentence, turning his head to fully look at him, meeting eyes with pupils so wide that the blue was drowning in a sea of black?

What? Crowley asked, the counter ticking in his periphery. Two minutes. For a reason he refused to acknowledge, anxiety began fluttering in his stomach—once upon a time, it had been excitement, but he had learned better than to hope, to expect.

Do you think Aziraphale shuffled closer, ignoring the champagne, ignoring the television, simply holding his gaze with a soft smile on his lips?

The sound returned as the final countdown began, but Crowley did not hear a single number, dizzy with a fondness so ancient no words would ever be able to do it justice.

Do you think as the cheering faded into a buzz, Aziraphale leaned in and pressed a kiss right to the corner of his mouth, close enough to count, too distant not to? Do you think Crowley froze in place, forgetting to breathe, blink, speak, exist, caught between the urge to chase after him and the fear of what would happen once the late-night giddiness wore off?

Happy New Year, Aziraphale whispered, reaching for the champagne and opening it with a pop that echoed like a gunshot.

(aimformymouth, aimformymouth, aimformymouth)

Do you think he wanted to say something, anything, and yet all he could do was accept the champagne flute being held out in front of him, a low, garbled noise escaping him? Do you think Aziraphale's smile grew as he made himself comfortable again, resting one hand on Crowley's ankle and saying, It'll be a good year?

To a good year, angel, Crowley forced out, the glass chiming softly as they clinked them together.

To a good year, my dear.

Do you think that night plays on repeat in his head months later?

It'll be a good year.

Aziraphale is gone now.

It'll be a good year.

His chest is tight with grief and memories, and the wine glass meets the wall before he can stop himself, listening to the glass break and crumble.

It'll be a good year.

It had been a good year—right up until it wasn't.

[jeronandor]

The Aldhani cast behind the scenes of 'Andor'

x