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[nimbusalba]

One thing that really gets me about the opening with angel Crowley is that he's not just excited by how beautiful his stars are, or how fun the process of creation is, or how impressed he's made Aziraphale. He’s not in it for the glory or the aesthetics. He’s actually horrified by the idea that the universe will just be "fancy wallpaper" in the future, even though Aziraphale assures him that humans will "marvel" at his creations.

What Crowley loves about his stars is their potential. He is building, essentially, a nursery. Most of the universe's stars, he explains to Aziraphale, will come pre-aged--but his are just starting out! After they're given time to grow, who knows what could happen! Good or bad, black holes or new constellations—there are so many possible futures ahead of them, and Crowley can’t wait to see what happens.

And then Aziraphale tells him that he knows what will happen: those stars will never grow up. They will never shine or burn out or implode or become anything new. They’ll be destroyed before they get the chance.

"You can't kill kids."

“Whose side are you on?” “God’s, of course!” “Same God that wants me to whack the kids?”

"People die." "They do, don't they?"

“Great pustulant mangled bollocks to the Great blasted Plan!”

"Don't test them to destruction."

"It's always too late."

"Nothing lasts forever." "No, I don't suppose it does."

This fear has been chasing Crowley since before the beginning. It’s what caused his first doubts, put the first traces of gray in his wings. He’s been raging at the futility of watching beautiful, complex things be damned or destroyed for his entire existence, and that’s why he seems to the audience and to Aziraphale to be a mess of contradictions.

He loves to follow the trends of the times, but he clings to his classic car in an era of planned obsolescence for vehicles. He lives in an ultra-modern flat, but finds his greatest comfort in the unchanging security of aziraphale’s old shop. He hates the idea of killing children, but is willing to see a child die if it preserves the rest of the universe and foils the Great Plan. He “goes too fast,” but his most unique and notable power is that he’s learned to stop time.

Crowley hates predestination. He hates divine intervention and the removal of agency. Crowley, the architect of free will, is constantly torn between his love of change and choice and potential and his terror that everything will be destroyed by an unstoppable, incomprehensible higher power. That’s his driving conflict in the way that Aziraphale’s is learning to find his own path without following Heaven’s rules, and I am fascinated to see how it resolves.

[nimbusalba]

The idiots

[nimbusalba]

Fanatic Intervention Part 7!!!

Beginning|| Previous || Next

It will not surprise you at all, dear Reader, to learn that Aziraphale keeps very little in his kitchen cupboards. There is no stove or oven, and the only thing in the fridge is milk (for his tea no doubt). When you start opening cupboards, you find one pack of custard creams, and a second one of chocolate digestives. Well, it will have to do. You find yourself a small plate and fill it half and half before heading back into the shop just in time to say goodbye to Anathema and Newt.

As they leave, you turn to the supernatural entities in the room.

“So,” You say, “If we’re going to the States, then we have a few problems. First, I don’t have my passport or any ID at all, so airport security is going to be fun. Second, I have no money. Third, I’m gonna need a Walmart or something because I don’t even have a toothbrush, my dudes. Fourth, these,” You indicate the cookies, “are fine for a snack, but overall they’re not gonna cut it.”

“You just leave the airport security to us,” Aziraphale replies. You make a note that he glided right past ‘my dudes,’ they’re getting used to you already. Dammit. “As for the rest of it,” Aziraphale continues, “I suppose a trip to Tesco’s is in order.”

Crowley produces a shiny black credit card from nowhere and hands it to you. “We’ll take the Bentley,” he says. He starts to stand, but you shake your head.

“Nuh-uh, you both stay here,” You say. Crowley raises his eyebrow.

“You realize we can take care of ourselves,” he says, “We’ve been doing it for a few millennia.”

“I’m not talking about that,” You say, “Look, what we’re going into is really dangerous. And I know that your pattern is to just wait to talk about things until you’re in the clear, but that’s not a good idea anymore. I mean, I get that I’m not exactly an expert, but I read just as much as you do and I’ve heard a million stories by this point in my life, and in NONE of them do people ever say ‘I’m so glad I never told them how I feel’ - you know? It’s always ‘I wish I would have’ or ‘I should have told them every day.’ So Muriel and I will go ask Maggie to take us to Tesco, and you two need to talk. Please. While it’s safe, while you have the chance, before things get dangerous and possibly deadly.”

Crowley and Aziraphale are silent. You notice that they aren’t looking at each other. Well, you’ve done your best. Now you need to trust them.

At this point, dear Reader, you are probably thinking to yourself ‘well I would snoop and spy on them while they talk! I want to watch them make out!’ But here is the thing – in this world they are real people, not characters. It’s one thing to say that you would creep on them from the other side of this fiction, but when they’re very real and looking at you in person, things are a little different. For one thing, you realize that real people deserve things like boundaries and privacy, especially for sensitive conversations.

And so, you take Muriel over to Maggie’s shop, where you explain that Mr. Fell has sent the two of you on an errand and you need to stop for dinner somewhere and have no idea where anything is. You flash her the credit card and say ‘It’s all on me,’ and she conveniently agrees with a look on her face that says something like ‘least they could do after all that shit they put us through.’

So the three of you go for dinner at the nearest Weatherspoons, where you and Maggie eat while Muriel watches in morbid fascination. Then you all take the bus to Tesco where you buy yourself a small wardrobe, and manage to coax Muriel into some light blue jeans and an argyle jumper so they look a little less like the Beacon of Gondor. You quickly find out that Muriel has an adorable fascination with fuzzy socks, novelty mugs, and coloured pencils. Of course, you enable their fascinations with a happy heart, and as an afterthought, you grab them a small pot of orange daisies from the flower section. It will give them something alive to tend to while you’re gone. Muriel appreciates the thought. All in all, it’s a long but good time.

You don’t know about the talk, and you’re worried about asking when you get back.

THAT BEING SAID

You and I, dear Reader, not actually being in that world, are allowed certain privileges.

The bookshop is silent for a long time. Both of them are thinking, digesting, processing. Feelings are hard to feel, and harder to put into words. Especially when it has been made clear, twice now in the span of a number of hours, that you absolutely need to put them into words.

It isn’t until after Crowley notices you, Muriel, and Maggie heading down the street that he stands up and begins to pace. A few more minutes pass before he speaks.

“So...uhm...are you going to go first or should I?”

“Are we...are we actually going to do this? Have this talk I mean?” Aziraphale has been shelving books to try and take the edge off. Now he puts down the book in his hands and absent-mindedly fidgets with his ring.

“Well, I mean we don’t have to,” Crowley says, aiming for non-chalance and missing ever-so-slightly, “No one can actually make us.”

“Yes, except it feels very much like everyone is trying to.”

“Trying is the key word there.”

“That’s true enough I suppose.”

The silence returns and stretches. It is anything but comfortable. The air is full of words that they have been told they should say, words that perhaps they want to say, but words that have been dammed up with fear and uncertainty for so long now that they’ve become very hard to un-stick. After a while, Aziraphale clears his throat and speaks.

“I, erm, I suppose you had better go first.”

“Me, right, okay.” Crowley clears his throat now and stops his pacing near the desk. He looks down at the scattered papers and books, the pens and photos and newspaper clippings. The assorted clutter of Aziraphale’s life. Looking away makes it easier to start. He takes a breath. “Um..right...well...we’ve known each other a long time. We’ve been on this planet a long time – you and me, I mean. I’ve always been able to rely on you, and you’ve always relied on me,” another breath, “We’re a team, yeah? A group of the two of us. And...erm...we pretend that we aren’t. Always have. Safer that way I guess.” He looks up at Aziraphale. The angel isn’t looking at him, but he nods anyway to show that he’s listening. Crowley continues. “And I mean...I’ve tried not to think about it much before but...but it would be nice, I mean, UGH” He takes off his sunglasses and rubs a hand over his eyes as though he can massage the words and make them easier to say. “I mean, I would like to spend...mmm….I would like to spend the rest not pretending anymore. Be an us. I mean,” suddenly the dam breaks, and Crowley finds the words come tumbling out, “If Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, we can. We don’t need Heaven or Hell, they’re both toxic. We can be an us, on our side. You and me. What do you say?” He looks at Aziraphale without reservation now. His angel looks back at him, eyes wide. When he does speak, it’s with a smile and a small nod of acknowledgment rather than agreement.

“That was very well done Crowley,” he says. This isn’t an answer.

“Nnyeah, thanks. Your turn though.”

“Right, I suppose it is.” Aziraphale takes a moment to gather himself. After hearing Crowley be so open about this, he feels more resolved himself to do this properly. He faces Crowley and folds his hands to keep himself grounded. “Crowley,” he begins, “I...I wish that this conversation were happening under better circumstances. Although it’s been pointed out that ideal circumstances aren’t a promise that we can wait around for. Well, the thing is that I would like the same thing. Very much in fact. My biggest concern by far is for your safety because, well, frankly I don’t see the point in saving the world again if you’re not around to enjoy it with me. An us, as you said. You and me.” He smiles. Crowley smiles.

“Guess we’d better save the world together then. And try not to die.”

“Yes, quite.”

“Aziraphale?”

“Yes, Crowley?”

“You’re my angel. No one else.”

“And you, my wiley serpent. No one else.”

The shop bell dings.

“We’re baaaaaack!” You sing as you waltz through the door, shopping bags in hand. Muriel follows after you, carefully carrying their daisies. “Did you miss us?”

When you eventually get the courage to ask them about their talk later, you get a “ngk” from Crowley, and a “We’ve said all that needs to be said, for now.” from Aziraphale. And that, you suppose, will have to do.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

[nimbusalba]

(x)

[nimbusalba]

I'm dying now.

What’s your favourite line from good omens?

The invisible and unbreakable one that joins Crowley and Aziraphale.

[nimbusalba]

good omens 2 is like being given a box of six powdered sugar donuts but the last one isn’t powdered sugar, surprise it’s cocaine

[nimbusalba]

Anthony Jdoesn't know what sex is Crowley buys a shirt that says "Redheads Do It Better" agreeing with it as a general statement

He walks into the bookshop and Aziraphale is fighting for his life, Beset By Horny Visions, until Crowley leaves

[nimbusalba]

MISTAKES WERE MADE!

Crowley loves Aziraphale because he is batshit insane. Ángel LOCO. Always full ham. No half measures. Will lick the plate and probably yours too. All the while with a pinky up.

Long live Aziraferal.

[nimbusalba]

No, please, no. I love special spoilers!

Sir, your “special spoilers” are very confusing. First of all, Crowley and Aziraphale’s deaths are lacking coherence: are they eaten by space-time goats, or dying because of holes and/or pies? Is Crowley transformed as a deer before the pie incident? Plus, you said it’s happening in the very first five minutes, but they also have their wedding day (before dying I suppose) and Crowley & Sadie ends up divorcing! You finally end up saying that Aziraphale won’t even be part of S3… but he’s supposed to be The Snaffler villain! And what about Sadie and Dottie? Are they investigating their (ex)husbands’ deaths, going on holiday… or starting a throuple with Furfur? Plus, you’re writing about badgers, nightingales, rabbits, chinchillas… I’m not sure who the characters or cast are, what the plot is… Could you enlighten me on all this? All this incoherence is quite disturbing, but you said that David Tennant is excited to find out the new scripts, so I suppose all you said here is for blurring lines, right? :0

Anything I reply about Season 3 is me typing something to try and remind people that I'm not going to answer questions about the future. I suppose I could always go back to just typing "wait and see".

[nimbusalba]

This, just this.

And btw, what'd we rather be doing instead? Living our lives like normal people? Nah...

how ridiculous we are walking around saying shit like "supreme archangel" "the metatron" "bildad the shuhite" "memory tampering" "demon army" and "nazi zombies" like we're discussing the weather

but then we have to out bonkers ourselves with

"well, because they used this particular filter, when crowley's sideburns were at this particular length, and based on the fact that the sidewalks are dry, and you can hear something breaking in the background, and that person in the hawaiian shirt has been standing there a little too long, but what is "too long" anyway when the hour hand and the minute hand on the georgian era long case moonphase clock are switched?, never even MIND that aziraphale only had the bullet in his mouth when he took the bullet out of his mouth, combined with the fact that there are runes in heaven, when examined within the context of a song and a film from the 1940s... it is clear that...something very odd is going on."

[nimbusalba]

Good Omens 2 - Behind the scenes

[nimbusalba]

So three months ago I uploaded a picture of a very silly ship called "Furcarpet". It is what you think it is. Furfur/Mr. Brown, and it's honestly usually quite funny and sweet.

Today the actor Tim Downie wo plays Mr. Brown (And Gale from Bg3) liked, shared and commented on my Mr. Brown Furfur ship saying he love this ship, not only on Instagram but also on my Twitter!

....so that's a thing that happened.

He seems genuinely sweet and I am very flattered, but mostly I am amused that the actor of Mr.Brown loves the "Furcarpet" Furfur/Mr.Brown ship.

...I have been on an emotional rollercoaster when it comes to this.

[nimbusalba]

Fanfiction is not "Eww... fanfiction".

Fanfiction is comfort after a long day. Fanfiction is hope when things aren't going so well. Fanfiction is exploring your emotions and sexuality in a safe place. Fanfiction is reaching out into a universe to discover things you never knew before. Fanfiction is discovering things about yourself that you were unsure of. Fanfiction is going on adventures. Fanfiction is walking when maybe you cannot. Fanfiction is standing up for yourself when it's hard to do in real life. Fanfiction is having the family you never had, the friends you always wanted, the love and affection you deserve. Fanfiction is letting out your frustrations and anger in a safe place. Fanfiction helps people. Readers and Writers alike.

Fanfiction is not "lesser writing".

Fanfiction is 100k stories about two dudes in a shiny black car. Fanfiction is 47 chapter epic tales about dragons and magic. Fanfiction is short stories that evoke such emotions that leave you crying for hours. Fanfiction is incredible prose that lingers in your mind for years to come.

Fanfiction is not shameful. It is not worthless. It is not just some silly thing kids do.

Fanfiction is beautiful art and no one can take that away from you. If they try, just write them into your next story and beat the hell out of them.

[nimbusalba]

Some snakey fluff for your Sunday.

Inspired by this tweet.

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Aziraphale is hungry… not only for food…

Incorrect Good Omens Quotes Masterpost Part 1 : here

Incorrect Good Omens Quotes Masterpost Part 2 : here

[nimbusalba]

Hello Mr Gaiman

I was wondering, seeing where the last 15 minutes of S2E6 left us, on a scale of -1 to -∞, how much romance can we expect to see between Aziraphale and Crowley in S3?

I'm afraid Crowley and Aziraphale won't be in Season 3 of Good Omens. But you'll love their wives, Dottie and Sadie, two intrepid detectives, who will investigate their deaths in respectively a pie accident and falling down a deep hole.

[nimbusalba]

When you realize in this scene:

Crowley is thinking back to this one:

And know that the memory of that makes him so happy 💕