What If Crowley’s Trial Goes In Different Way

I didn’t know I need Aziraphale to say Fuck so madly after reading this post.

I feel like Aziraphale and Crowley will be forced to speak to each other by Nina and Maggie and so they will sit in one room locked up by them and they’re going to be absolutely fuming and still refusing to talk

But they will finally snap and start fighting through which they will mention all the misunderstandings over the years

YOU DIDN’T TELL ME YOU WERE HOMELESS

IT WAS NOT YOUR PROBLEM

YES IT WAS I’D NEVER LET YOU LIVE IN A CAR

YOU TOLD ME I WAS NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR YOU

I NEVER SAID THAT

YOU CALLED ME ONE OF THE BAD GUYS

THAT’S NOT… THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT

I TOLD YOU I LOVED YOU AND YOU TOLD ME NOTHING LASTS FOREVER!

I MEANT THE BOOKSHOP! I CHOSE YOU OVER THE BOOKSHOP!

YOU WANTED ME TO BE AN ANGEL LIKE I WAS NOT GOOD ENOUGH THE WAY I AM

I WANTED YOU TO BE HAPPY AND SAFE! YOU NEVER TOLD ME GABRIEL WANTED ME TO SHUT UP AND DIE!

I WANTED TO PROTECT YOU!

I WANTED TO PROTECT YOU TOO!

6 thousand years of misunderstandings until they stop and need to catch a breath because fucking hell and Aziraphale says fuck this and grabs Crowley the way he grabbed him and kisses him

My heart is broken but THANK YOU ♥️

To all of us finishing it at the same time right now, desperate for comfort, can we take a minute to thank everyone involved in making the season 2 we never thought we’d get?

Thank you to the whole cast and crew. You were all magnificent.

I might be crying at the end, but god, I had such a wonderful time.

I never finish drawing (especially DTIYS), like I said, but there is little miracle of my own. I worked on beautiful and very touching pict by @hayamiyuu (look on Intstagram please!) because I like, everybody like, rainy romantic and I fell in love with these amazing colors and lighting! They are an image of love in its purest form for me.

Draw me like one of your ineffable husbands.

Regency Aziraphale and Crowley in the style of Ingres’s portrait drawings.

I remember copying Ingres at school was gruelling but equally rewarding. It usually involved hours at the Met drawing room with a magnifier. Each one of his lines is expressive, and every edge is finely controlled. An Ingres copy wouldn’t have the feel of the original at all if it’s not done this carefully with a SHAAARP pencil on very smooth paper. (Ironically, not Ingres paper...)

I took out the same magnifier and all the Ingres catalogues I could find at my place for this drawing too... The struggle is real (?)

I wouldn't say it better, thank you I'm going to be sentimental. Thanks to everyone from the kindest fandom I ever be part of, you're making amazing job.

When I read fanfiction or look at art, I fall in love again and again in so so many ways with them. Every. Damn. Time.

I've seen lots of fans remark on how wonderful it is that the Good Omens fandom leaves space for such diverse interpretations of the characters and story. So many of us find different ways to see ourselves in Aziraphale and Crowley, whether that's our identities or experiences or interests...

But for me this goes beyond just having space for different fans' preferences. What amazes me about this fandom is that I adore and resonate with so many seemingly conflicting interpretations of Aziraphale and Crowley's story, and I think lots of others do too. I'll read a fic in which they've been together romantically for 6000 years and it makes as much sense to me as one in which they get together after thwarting the apocalypse, and of course I'll love a queer platonic take on their relationship just as much. I read fics in which they are asexual and I'm like "yeah, exactly!" on the same day that I'll savor a tender and sexy PWP fic. I've read and seen them portrayed as every experience of gender identity and been like "yup, that's them (and I see myself in that too)". I've read different takes on how they experience human mental health or neurodiversity and they all resonate. I've read fics where Aziraphale's kisses burn like holy water and I'm thinking, "of course that is what would happen"; fics where angel kisses turn to freckles ("obviously"); then I'll read a different interpretation where kisses are just soft and human and that makes perfect sense too.

What's amazing about this experience is that I don't recall feeling this way about previous fandoms and ships. With other ships I tended to have a singular narrative in my head about "how it would be", and beyond AUs I felt like the fandom kind of did too. Maybe that's because I'm older now, but I don't think it's just my age... this fandom is fundamentally queerer and more pluralistic.

The way that the Good Omens fandom invites us all to hold multiple different headcanons and interpretations without them feeling "conflicting" is amazing. It's a beautiful expression of plurality, empathy, and fluidity that itself reflects a rather queer and feminist way of seeing the world. And that's lovely. What if we saw more of the real world that way, with room for gray area and nuance? Letting two conflicting things be true at once, just like Crowley and Aziraphale integrate darkness/light? Like them, we're conditioned to think about binary options and "two sides". Like them, we can inspire each other to see life more fluidly than that, while also taking a firm stand for something we believe in.

I love everything about it.

Dark as a Lake

Don't you just wanna wake up

dark as a lake

smelling like a bonfire

lost in a haze...

This one is on you @waitingtobebroken - here goes my night of non sleep...

Also: I have been thinking about Crowley's fix for extravagant watches and I have come to the conclusion that his alarm clock cannot be anything less than the onboard clock from the dearly departed Mir Space Station.

Old but gold and I read side effect first time and I’m cackling 😀

#getting into mood ✨

Just borrowed ipad, working on a new thing and waiting for a new episode.

I miss drawing. Hopefully I’m back.

Aziraphale very nearly twinkled over his pasta as he licked the final remnants of its rich sauce from the tines of his fork. Enraptured by the flick of his pink tongue, Crowley watched helplessly and feigned boredom.

Across the restaurant, a chair scraped against the tiled floor. Crowley reluctantly looked away from Aziraphale's pleased expression as they both turned toward the clatter. The man at the table slipped from his seat to kneel at his date’s feet, ring in hand. His fingers trembled. The gem sparkled. The woman’s hand flew to her mouth. She nodded frantically and shoved her hand in his direction. Yes! Yes. Of course, yes.

The couple laughed, flustered, as the patrons at other tables and a few pedestrians on the street clapped. Aziraphale joined in. Crowley didn’t.

“How lovely!” Aziraphale smiled, radiating a pure joy Crowley had to squint at even behind his sunglasses.

“He spent all his wages on that little bauble, I’d bet. Bit of a waste.”

“Love is never a waste, my dear.”

Of course Crowley privately agreed. Of course he did. He'd already sacrificed more in the name of love. He was never sure how much Aziraphale understood, but with the secretive, knowing glance he was receiving from across the table, Crowley suspected it was a great deal indeed.

Heart pounding, Crowley flagged a waiter for the dessert menu and sent a bottle of bubbles to the newly engaged couple's table. Aziraphale, now with dessert in sight, grinned impossibly wider, warm as sunshine. Crowley basked, snake that he was.