![mauvaise-reputation:
“ A: “Will you please sit properly?”
C: “But I’m not proper.”
[I saw this, and I simply had to. In my head, I always picture Crowley as the love child of Gérard Philipe and Bowie.]
”](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b2bcda978de07d1045c01e4b490dd564/tumblr_nutmfn4zIa1txm9d3o1_1280.png)
A: “Will you please sit properly?”
C: “But I’m not proper.”
[I saw this, and I simply had to. In my head, I always picture Crowley as the love child of Gérard Philipe and Bowie.]
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#crowley #good omens #amazing art #not mine
He.
Closeups of Nacho and Lalo dancing from that art I drew a ways back. Detailed description/ original post here: https://www.tumblr.com/seraph5/712590154975657984/balia-conmigo-ignacio-finally-got-to-finish
✨ Miguel O’hara WIP ✨
Would anyone be interested in seeing these pics posted individually at full size?
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I just wanna see the answers
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Part 2 Lacho draws from my talented friend Artmerica, with the consent of the artist ofc. https://twitter.com/artmetica?t=INEB5j05YVkUBhILMLSHwQ&s=09
I'm reposting these draws of Lacho with the consent of the artist. Credits to my friend: https://twitter.com/artmetica?t=INEB5j05YVkUBhILMLSHwQ&s=09
You know I had to do it to them 💖✨
I wrote most of this Good Omens fic ages ago based in the world of my fic The Dance and the trailers for season 2 finally gave me the last push I needed to finish it off. So check it out if you like.
Its about Crowley and Aziraphale having a nap on the heels of the averted apocalypse.
Spiderverse was so good it literally sent me into a creative crisis.
From: Mirtha Dermisache: ‘4 Cartes postales’, Guy Schraenen éditeur, Antwerpen, 1978 [BOOKS@, Amsterdam. © LMD Legado Mirtha Dermisache]
michaelmandog
Lalo visits Albuquerque in 1990. He sees an 18 years old Nacho who barely looks up from the floor while Lalo scolds a 20 years old Tuco (“Ay, why would tío let a kid run this place?”) Varga is a pretty young thing, looks strong enough too, but there’s this glint in his eye when he finally raises his head to say something to Tuco. Lalo never forgets it.
In 1990, Lalo would call him mi ángel, mi cielito. Nacho would be blushing hard, and then going out of his way to look tough and impress Lalo. Lalo who would say “You still have a long way to go, cielito. But tell you what! Keep that up and who knows, maybe next time we meet I’ll call you by your name”.
Nacho in his early cartel years would already be smart, but terribly, terribly dumb if a handsome, powerful older man started paying attention to him. He hasn’t been shot yet, he hasn’t bled for the Salamancas. His dad is still none the wiser that he’s slipping dirty money into the cash register at the shop.
Nacho is 18, going on 19, and on a power high. His usually sharp senses would absolutely fail him.
More ideas being thrown around below the cut
