I Don't Know How It's Possible But In Love With This Art

I don't know how it's possible but in love with this art 💜

All my current Crowley’s Coven art in one post.

They stole his pants, then his friendship, THEN his car keys (errands needed running) and now his angel ex.

This is so true

every time i start to feel cringe for being too deep in the hyperfixation i remember the intense depression i have waded through and have to remind myself that enjoyment is fleeting (so grab it with both hands), and life is for loving (so hold that love close), and if anyone thinks i’m cringe they must not be having a very good time (and i hope they can find a good time soon).

Crowley: angelllllll let’s go out someplace, I’m bored.

Aziraphale: then why don’t you read a book. There are plenty of them accessible through that infernal mobile phone you’re always staring at.

Crowley: iNfErNaL mObI— show you reading on the internet I invited reading on the internet, big reading on the internet fan, me. you wanna read on the internet I’ll show you what’s—HA!

Aziraphale:

Crowley: angel, did you hear me? I said “HA!”

Aziraphale: yes dear, I heard you. And what is the cause of your self-satisfied exclamation?

Crowley: free reading on the internet. This site was one of mine, truly. Not just taking credit this time. Piles and piles of absolutely depraved things, pouring it at all hours of the day and night!

Azirphale: oh my. What a wicked deed. *clicks tongue on cue*

Crowley: it was! Filthy wicked. Just take this one, posted last night: “Fruit of the Earth (Fire of my Soul), 64000 words, enemies to lovers, lingerie link OH HO!, first time, light bondage, rated explicit.”

Aziraphale: Oh. That does sound rather inappropriate for the once-hallowed halls of this shop. Perhaps you’d better put it down, Crowley.

Crowley: Bit odd though, this one. Fandom: Bible. Written by Fell_the_Fallen. Aziraphale?

Aziraphale: you know, suddenly I am feeling rather pecking! Shall we?

Wow..

History student falls in love with astrophysics student by Keaton St. James

(patreon)

[poem text: listen, nine hundred and fifty years before jesus was a child shaking willow leaves out of his tangled curls, the author of the song of solomon wrote: behold, you are beautiful; your eyes are doves.

what i’m trying to say is that, in this universe which sculpted itself from a baptism of fire, i am the moon swept up by your tenderness. you’ve got me dreaming foreign words: gravity, ellipsis, perigee, until all i can think about is becoming anchored into orbit around the saltwater-green landscape of your laughter.

listen, plato of ancient greece wrote that the souls we each have now are only halves. that in a frenzy of blood zeus severed us from each other, so we rely on the blind tugging of our hearts. you say my name and i want to knit my bones into your bones, smooth away the boundaries of our heartbeats.

what i’m trying to say is that if the temperature inside those wild pockets of interstellar dust hits right near absolute zero, carbon monoxide and dihydrogen molecules condense together in the dark nebula to form stars. if you’re ready, i want to make you shiver like that. /end poem text.]

💔

Happy new year, guys)))🎄♥️

I did it, I finished the thing

Some tender aziracrow for everyone