#you damn heathens

[lokavisi]

I just need to share that recently, about 80-90% of the time Loki's around, he has Zoroark-shaped hair. Like, it's huge, and the little hairband holding it back is way too far down Their hair for it to make sense. Like look at this thing:

It took me forever to realize where I had seen this wild hairstyle before, and of course Loki decided a Pokemon was good style inspo.

[beastsovrevelation]

I had another Good Omens fanfiction dream this morning.

Basically, Crowley was due to give birth. You might ask, Pestilence, what's with you and Crowley being pregnant?.. The answer is, I don't know, and neither does my therapist.

So, Crowley's due to give birth, he's scared and in pain. Beelzebub shows up, along with a few other demons (I guess I'll look through the Key of Solomon, I remember a few have to do with healing). She told him they'll support him. I have a feeling, the dream adhered to my idea that Crowley and Beelzebub are siblings (in spite Beelzebub looking like she does in S2, so Indian).

Crowley had to change to his snake form, because while his human form was male (so he couldn't give birth without surgery, which was too dangerous), his snake form was female. The demons put him in a whelping box (genius idea). Crowley gave birth to either 4 or 6 baby snakes (apparently, they're called snakelets). It was a live birth, which, fun fact, some snakes do give (i think boa constrictors, and snake Crowley kind of looks like one, aside from the colouring). The baby snakes then morphed to human form. I don't think Crowley nearly died, but he lost a lot of blood, and got extremely exhausted. No, it probably wasn't realistic to how snakes actually give birth.

(They were far larger, though)

Oh, and at some point, Aziraphale found out, but someone (possibly Beelzebub) forbade him from coming, because an angel's presence would distress the babies, and they wouldn't take human form. They could also die.

No, I don't think Aziraphale was the "father". The babies were demons, while, according to my headcanons, when an angel procreates with a demon, the baby's an angel, as it's the original form (though, they do retain some demonic features). Maybe, Crowley mated with an actual snake, or something... It would be very Greek and Norse god of him, but what the Heaven, dude... I guess, Beelzebub could act as the litter's she-father, once the two had reconciled. Which, is a word I use for maternal figures who, traditionally, would be considered more paternal. You know, kind of emotionally detached, more provider than carer, often absent, that sort of deal.

This is incoherent, but I only remember fragments. I guess, I will put it down in my notes for the future. I already did. (I'm kind of tempted to write the birth scene, I like writing birth scenes, they're brutal).

Don't you just have a love/hate relationship with when you are already swamped with WIPs, but the Fanfiction Gods send you another vision?..

Also, don't you just hate it when you give birth to a litter of snakelets, with the help of your coworkers, and your estranged sister.

What the Hell do you even name that many damn whelps...

[aheathen-conceivably]

I'd like to give my two cents on the question you were asked about why your story is special/different. Your answer was wonderful, however I would like to add that what really makes your story special to me is your wonderful and immersive portrayal of New Orleans. Keep in mind that I've never been anywhere close to Louisiana so I'm not a great judge, but the way your portray the city has such a vibrance and sense of familiarity. I haven't seen such a lively and well-done setting in any other decades challenge. Have a good day!

-brokenrecord

My goodness, I don’t think it’s possible for me to convey my thanks to you, not only for your kindness, but for that specific compliment 🥺

So I have mentioned this, but I lived in New Orleans for about a decade (and grew up nearby the city). It’s very difficult for me to articulate the love of place that I have for Louisiana, but more specifically, for New Orleans. I began writing the 1920s as an homage to its history, but I think over time I put a lot more of my heart into the story than I intended to. Above all, I now realize that it’s a love letter to the city and all the wonderful things it has given me/made me feel. The fact that this comes across touches my heart more than you can know.

I will certainly admit that this does make me nervous going forward. It isn’t just you saying that, as I’ve thought it for a while, but I’m now venturing into a place in the story that I just don’t have the same connection with or knowledge of. I have tried to mend that with research; but I fear the heart behind the 1920s cannot be replicated anywhere else. I just hope that the characters stay strong and vibrant no matter where we go so that the story doesn’t lose the magic that it (and I) got from New Orleans ♥️

[shivvroys]

i know this has been done already but since u reblogged a post about it i would absolutely kill for your take on if karolina found shiv scheduling her grief instead of tom 🙏

first off, thank you so much for the ask, and sorry for the long long wait!!

secondly, i've cheated a bit - this was supposed to be a part of the fic that i'm currently writing, but i've had to cut it. I'm really fond of it, though, so I hope you like it :)

it's a much milder take than i'd envisioned, and in the context of an established relationship i definitely would've made it angstier, but i think it fits somewhat close to canon

read below <3

'Indulged child' — seven letters, starts with an S or the healing properties of the NYT Games app

Karolina steps into the meeting room, tension already melting off her shoulders, and almost trips on the poorly installed carpeting when she spots Siobhan sitting at the end of the conference table. Her head is bowed, cradled between her hands, so Karolina can’t see her face.

“Oh, sorry.” she blinks, stopping a few feet away from the table. “I didn’t know you had the room booked.”

Karolina watches as Shiv turns her head, attempting to cover the fact that she’d been crying. She wipes hurriedly at her nose, and only meets Karolina’s eyes after she’s composed herself.

“It’s fine.” she shrugs. “I’m done anyway.”

Then, Shiv rises from her chair quickly and begins clearing her things off the table before Karolina has the chance to say anything. She hasn’t brought many things: some pens, a notebook that’s been opened on a blank page, a pack of tissues, Shiv’s tablet—just enough knick-knacks to make it seem like she’d been working. Shiv’s back is turned to Karolina so she can’t see all of the table, but she knows it couldn’t take more than a few seconds to gather everything.

Still, she stays silent, watching the lines of Shiv’s shoulders like landmines, like birds about to take flight. As if reminding herself of their existence—and reminding herself to control them, she pulls her hands closer to herself.

“Are you—”

“I’m good.” Shiv cuts her off. She finally turns to face Karolina, her things now stacked on top of each other in her hands. “It’s all yours.” she nods towards the table.

Karolina takes a tentative step forward as Shiv starts making her way out of the room. As she approaches the table, she spots Shiv’s phone lying face down. She sets her things on the table, before turning to Shiv.

“Oh, Shiv, I think you forgot—”

As she calls out, the phone begins ringing. She picks it up, turning it around to see the timer notification flashing on the screen.

“Were you meditating?” she frowns, cracking a smile.

She reaches to hand Shiv the phone, pretending not to see the tiny trail of blood pooling at the base of her thumb nail.

“No.” Shiv swallows. A beat. “Crying, actually, yeah.”

She clears her throat, tilting her head as if challenging Karolina to say anything. To throw a punch.

“I—I’m so sorry, Shiv.” Karolina blinks, barely croaking the words out. “I’ll let you—”

“It’s fucking fine, Karolina.” Shiv snaps. “Take the goddamn room. I’m done.”

Her eyes are red-rimmed, and the hand she’s raised to silence Karolina is just shy of shaking.

“I’m just hiding out from Kendall.” Karolina sighs, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “He keeps asking me for feedback on his pitch but all it is, is just—buzzwords.”

She catches the faintest smile flash across Shiv’s face, which spurs her on.

“Dynamic. Innovation. Convergence.” she coos, raising her brows and shaking her hands in front of herself like an old-timey snake-oil seller.

That gets a full-fledged chuckle out of Shiv, and when Karolina drops her hands and sets her face into a familiar scowl it erupts into real laughter. She lets Shiv enjoy this brief reprieve, before gesturing to the room.

“So please, take the room. I have my assistant blocking it as important, so it’s yours for the next hour. I can hide out someplace else.”

She doesn’t give Shiv a chance to refuse, grabbing her things and turning to leave before Shiv takes a step forwards, blocking her way.

“I’m not going to sit here and cry for an entire fucking hour.” Shiv scowls, shaking her head. Then, she nods towards Karolina’s bag and the laptop peeking out of it. “What were you gonna do while you were hiding?”

“Catch up on work, probably, I don’t know.” Karolina pulls her lips into a tight line. “Maybe a crossword?”

“Crossword?” Shiv raises a brow. She looks Karolina up and down, frowning. “How old are you, again?”

“Right, sorry—” Karolina sucks her teeth, raising a pointed brow. “I assume the last puzzle you were able to solve came on the back of a cereal box?”

“Well, yeah, because after that I got real hobbies.” Shiv shakes her head, her grinning. “What, d’you play those hidden object games, too? Look for tiny fucking keys in those weird drawings?”

Karolina looks down as her cheeks start burning. Shiv catches it, and bursts into laughter.

“Oh my god. Karolina, no.”

A part of her wants to believe she’s only doing it for Siobhan’s sake. That she’s humoring the other woman as an act of kindness—some version of an apology for not extending any kind of support after Logan’s death. But she’s apologized enough times in her life to know one rarely finds delight in the act of apology, so when her eyes meet Shiv’s and she lets her lips turn up into a smile, Karolina knows the real reason she hasn’t left the room already is much simpler—she doesn’t want to.

“What hobby should I pick up, then, Siobhan?”

“God, there’s so many.” Shiv’s cheeks puff out. “Let’s see…”

She starts listing what Karolina guesses are her ideas of a pensioner’s hobbies: gardening, knitting, pickling, making jams—getting all the way down to walking around parks and standing all still and creepy to watch pigeons.

With each finger she uses to enumerate, Shiv’s grin widens. Karolina nods her along, pretending to be impressed until Shiv runs out of ideas.

“Or just volunteer at an elderly home.” she shrugs. “I’m sure the ladies would love to have you over for canasta.”

“Mhm.” Karolina nods, pursing her lips. “I’ll think about it.”

They sit in silence for a brief moment, neither making a first step.

“So, uh, can I see one?” Shiv finally asks.

“See what?”

“One of your crosswords, nerd.” she chuckles.

“Oh.” Karolina blinks. “I mean—really, Shiv, I can let you be—” she points to the door.

“Well, I don’t feel like crying anymore.” Shiv clears her throat, cutting her off. “And I don’t feel like going back out there yet, so… Unless you’re, you know, very private about your… crosswords.”

Karolina rolls her eyes. As she turns around to rummage through her bag for her tablet, Shiv steps closer until she’s right behind Karolina. When she leans forward to put her own things back on the table her arm brushes against Karolina’s. From up close, Karolina can distinguish each thin trail of blood wrapped around the irises of her eyes, and the blue shadows creeping up from under her concealer.

In the months after her own father’s passing, Karolina remembers going through them like candies.

Each week, she would reach into the bottom of her bag and pull up crumpled up receipts for concealer, whiskey, and the occasional lottery ticket—her dad’s guilty pleasure.

She used the same numbers each time, just like he'd taught her: each of their birthdays, twenty-eight, and eleven.

On the last ticket she bought, she put down the date of his death: seventeen, three, twenty, eight, then twenty-eight, and eleven.

It won her $10 that she never bothered to cash in.

So, she knows what it’s like—the make-up, the perfectly timed crying breaks, the split ends, the furrowed brows. The way it would hit (and still does, sometimes, on rainy days) so suddenly it would leave her breathless, like something had dislodged itself within her chest and all day long she’d have go on with her business as if that horrible rattling wasn’t ringing in her ears and reverberating inside her entire body like a war drum.

Karolina knows what Shiv is going through, but she also knows that grief is like a fingerprint. That it belongs so intimately to the person going through it. Defined by the very matter of their being, and from the moment it has formed—defining them in return.

So she doesn’t offer an apology, or a hug or, worse, advice. Instead, she sits down and waits for Shiv to do the same. When she does, Karolina turns on her tablet and opens the crossword app with her upturned hand stretched out towards Shiv, palm open and fingerprints exposed.

Then, Karolina begins explaining the basic rules of crosswords.

[dollsome-does-tumblr]

quick, someone tell this godless heathen what the second coming is so i can stop trying to google it for good omens fic reasons and getting the most unhinged web results possible

[advisorsage]

The universe loves me

[cherry-bomb-blush]

Psst psst definitely don’t imagine this

Don’t imagine Ghost coming up behind you and wrapping his arms around only to stick his freezing hands up underneath your and tickling the hell out of your stomach sides and ribs

Yeahhh don’t imagine that

WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU /pos

YOU PEOPLE ARE INSANE.

...

.....

I've imagined it. You people are animals. /lh

Ohghhhg I just know that mother fucker has COLD ASS HANDS 🤬🤬🤬

He probably says some shit about how "he's cold" and "needs to warm up his hands" 😒

OHGGH AND BEING WRAPPED UP IN HIS ARMS??

I'm so sorry. I need to be euthanized immediately.

[imatrashcansorry]

I love Joel Miller and I love the amazing writers who take the time out of their day to make something for us fiends.. BUT PLEASE, PLEASE SOMEONE MAKE A GOOD LONG FIC THAT DOESN’T INVOLVE Y/N (ME!!) BEING PERGNANTE 🫠

[milimeters-morales]

Miles: oh sorry someone’s calling me

Miles: … oh really?? wow!! mhm… mhm.. damn, okay… yeah i can make it!! see you in 10! I won’t be late don’t worry haha! love you too, bye (hangs up)

Peter: oh you’re leaving??

Mike: no, wrong number 😊

[bookwyrminspiration]

I asked you bc you always seem to know what's up :)

"Why would you ask me??? Fin would give you a better answer" *Proceeds to give the exact page number and context for the scene*

Hearing about all this stuff is making me realise Kenric is like. Lowkey Toxic. I was under the impression that he was Sweet Innocent UwU bean Councillor but everyday that passes and the more that I learn it's actually sounding like Bronte is the sweet innocent UwU bean. Oralie is in a league of her own

-Heathen

grumble grumble I GUESS you have a point. I walked into that one, i'm just too knowledgeable and helpful for my own good and also really really cute on top of all that

I'm not the most councillor oriented person, so I don't have very intimate familiarity with Kenric, but I'd say he's less a toxic person and more a human one. We meet him through Sophie's young eyes, and Kenric treats her like she's her age; he understands there's more going on, but he also remembers she's young. And so we learn a version of him that isn't completely true. Because with kids you're indulgent, you're animated, you're putting on the nicest, most comforting persona you have (obviously not applicable to every single situation in the world).

And then he dies, and Sophie gets older, and she sees memories of him that don't have that child filter. Memories between adults, and we see that he has more to him, and nuance, and complications, and imperfections. He has secrets, sometimes does things for selfish reasons, and is doing way more than he ever let on when he was alive. He has complicated relationships he can't fulfill, and he makes mistakes, and tries to make it up, but most of all is trying.

That's a very brief overview, but I'd personally hesitate to call Kenric toxic. I think he was a person with an invisible burden on his shoulders, and that's becoming more and more obvious the more we learn, especially contrasted with the idealized memory of him. But those are just my thoughts!

[aheathen-conceivably]

Aheathen-conceivably's Yee-haw Game Ranch™

You damn right, partner. This whole blog is now officially in yeehaw mode 🤠

[mcondance]

UGH IMAGJNE SMOKING WITH FONTAINE 😩😩😩 he probably looks so pretty when he’s rolling up

-👹

do you want me to say something rlly mean to you

[pendragora]

"Her love is yours...

But only if you give your heart to her."

This particular part of the verse is hitting different every single time

[ovilis-m]

Tfw there's a book villain so well done he's all you can think about

[unproduciblesmackdown]

already thinking "and by 'religious' really i mean 'christian'" re: how the term "religion" is not really useful when it's largely like, from a christian perspective, what is considered "equivalent" of christianity, see: perhaps a "rival"/obstacle to some person or group being considered christian....and even if not thinking about converting anyone, resulting in some at best misinterpretation / misrepresentation based on framing it through/as [element of christianity] and limiting of any more accurate language

like how tumblr recommends me a post about someone thinking about "religion" in general and concluding that it's Weird and perhaps Wrong for anyone who is a "true believer" in their religion(tm) to Not be proselytizing / trying to Convert everyone. like yeah why isn't everyone being an evangelical christian, they ought to be, benevolently informing all those around them that they're going to hell, otherwise. don't see any problem with this conclusion, or that someone's getting antisemitic in the notes already in agreement, or that That's Not How This Works and you don't just know how All "Religion" works based on considering it to be an alternate version of christianity (which in itself doesn't All work like that either)

[eggtrolls]

The most trivial decision that has haunted me the longest is when my friend Tara (the one getting married) decided my first name (over long, starts with a Ch) was too difficult to pronounce and gave me the nickname Chitra. 13 years later I’m still being introduced to family and friends as ‘Tara ki America se university dost, Chitra’ but my deepest shame is that the name Chitra is really difficult for me to pronounce 😭😭😭😭😭