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Nah wait... Let them cook.... They might be on to something

They're arguing

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yeah so uh

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Gale helps Astarion with his reflection problems. :)

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I was just too short to see them LMAOOO

Went to last night's ghost concert

I want to go back

ANYWAYS

Have some swiss that I took from a distance

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OH MY GOD I WAS THERE TOO i didn't get any good pics of swiss bc i was in the pit in front of the box Phantom kept hopping up onto

Went to last night's ghost concert

I want to go back

ANYWAYS

Have some swiss that I took from a distance

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Just a couple more for the girlies

Ghost Photo Dump from the Austin, Texas Concert on Sept. 3rd!

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More :3

Ghost Photo Dump from the Austin, Texas Concert on Sept. 3rd!

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Ghost Photo Dump from the Austin, Texas Concert on Sept. 3rd!

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"Extraordinary Things" staring Hissrich down like a hawk. Bc how are you going to listen to "The greatest songs are made up of unspoken words of love" and "take this heart and break this heart" after everything we've seen of Geralt and Jaskier and think "these are two pals, two buddies, two Best Friends. They don't love each other dont be silly"

Hissrich: Jaskier isn't in love with Geralt.

Me: *Looking at Jaskier's discography for the last 30 years*

Don't tell me I'm not seeing unrequited gay love when I've been thirsting over straight girls for nearly four decades.

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Hiya, could you pretty pretty please do a 12. and 33. prompt for the ineffable husbands? I keep thinking of Bentley just locking them in and not letting them out until they talk cupboard trope style 😔

Yessssss :D

---

"Now you listen to me Crowley, you are going to tell your car—"

"Our car."

Aziraphale stops. Blinks. Gives up on fighting with the door handle.

"What did you say?" he asks.

"It's our car," Crowley repeats, more of a mumble this time, looking away from Aziraphale. A raindrop runs down the window, and he follows it with his eyes until it pools at the bottom, joining the great conference of former raindrops gathering there. They're in for a night of it, by the looks of the sky. "You said that. You made that true. So you're as much at fault as I am for it locking us in."

"I don't see how this is my fault. You kidnapped—"

"Kidnapped? I rescued you. That's. That's what I do. That's what the almighty made me for, I think," he huffs, still not looking at Aziraphale.

One rescue does not a rift mend. He's owed an apology. And even though everything's gone to heaven, like he predicted, he still hasn't gotten one.

He'd take a lot less. He doesn't need to hear that he was right. He needs to hear that Aziraphale's sticking with him this time.

The Bentley is, at least temporarily, seeing to that. Crowley gives the steering wheel a gentle pat. He genuinely has nothing to do with the doors being locked and apparently immune to miracles or temptation, but he thinks it's trying to help.

If nothing else, the constant itch of not being able to reach out and touch Aziraphale, if he wanted, has vanished for a bit. The ache of missing him has eased back just a fraction. It's a good car. A good, loyal car.

"You're cold," he says, shrugging out of his jacket without even having to look at Aziraphale. It's cold out tonight, in the middle of bloody nowhere, and he gets cold easily. Crowley doesn't want him to be cold.

"You'll be cold," Aziraphale says as Crowley shoves his body-warmed jacket at him.

"Demon," he says. "Don't get cold."

Theoretically, an angel ought not to get cold either. Thing is. Aziraphale's never actually been a very good angel. Not that Crowley would ever tell him that to his face.

Besides, he's his angel. He's allowed to be not very good.

"Thank you," Aziraphale says, taking the jacket and spreading it over himself like a blanket.

Silence, except for the pit-pat of rain against the car, falls. And Aziraphale's breathing. Crowley's missed the way he breathes.

He literally twiddles his thumbs in his lap, trying to think of something to say or do.

"Things are a bit of a mess," Aziraphale says after what might have been several eternities. Crowley's lost count.

He opens his mouth to say something—something comforting, like that it's not all that bad, or that they'll figure it out, they're a team, they always figure it out.

And then Aziraphale continues, "and you tried to warn me."

His voice sounds so small that Crowley, naturally, like he always does, deflates like a sat-on whoopee cushion. Because the thing about Aziraphale is that he always really is trying to do the right thing. Because he still believes there's one true Right Thing to do. Because he's precious and wonderful and optimistic and good. Not a good angel. But a good person.

"Did you ever wonder why I might try to do that?" Crowley asks.

He's not sure he wants an answer. Either one's going to hurt.

Aziraphale falls silent again, which is probably for the best. The way the moonlight's hitting the window now, Crowley can see him reflected in it. Still the same Aziraphale. Heaven hasn't really changed him.

"Do you really think God created you to look out for me?"

Crowley sighs. "I don't know. Plan's, y'know, ineffable."

"Well it would explain why you keep doing it," Aziraphale says. "If it's all in the plan."

"Right," Crowley draws in on himself. Not getting through right now, then. "No other possible explanation for it, really."

"Well. There is one other possible explanation," Aziraphale offers hesitantly.

"Oh?" Crowley asks.

"Well... you might. I suppose. Be fond of me?"

Crowley glances over at him. Sighs. Okay, well. He's come to that conclusion, then. It's only taken a little over six thousand years. Practically no time at all.

He takes his sunglasses off. Stares out of the windscreen. Wonders if he can actually be discorporated by way of stomach knots. Gnaws on his lip.

And then gets very, very brave. "I might be," Crowley says, forcing himself to look Aziraphale in the eye. "I might even be in love with you."

Aziraphale swallows. He looks like he might either be sick or pass out from what Crowley realises at the last second isn't disgust.

It's nerves.

"You might," he says, looking away as he fiddles with Crowley's jacket. "And. And if you were. That would be very convenient for me. Because I... I think I've been in love with you for a very long time."

Crowley means to say something to that, but the nice satisfying thunk of the Bentley unlocking beats him to it.

"Well," Crowley says, running his tongue over his teeth. "That's probably enough to save the world, then. Shall we?"

Aziraphale lights up, bright and beautiful and good as always. "I think we really must."

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You guys... SIDRAT was Mr. Young's license plate. Crowley's has always been NIAT RUC

Hello Niel,

I’m sure this ask will get lost amongst the thousands of others in your inbox, but if you happen to see this: I noticed the number plate of Crowley’s car spells “curtain” backwards and was wondering what the significance of this is?

As a massive Doctor Who fan I loved that it spelt TARDIS backwards in season 1!

Thanks!

This is going full Mandela Effect, isn't it?

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Hey, Neil???? What part about season two was "quiet" and "romantic"??? Because i think i missed it

Hi, Neil. This is not the first ask I've sent you and I know you're very busy so I apologize. I just wanted to let you know, because I know how much you enjoy our pain, that my partner finished GO season 2 late last night and I woke up this morning to nine voice messages and forty six texts from him. Most of the voice messages were unintelligible because of how hard he was crying but here's a little piece from one of them: "... Like, he's such a great author and such a great person...[unintelligible sobbing]... why would he do this to us?!" I was hoping that maybe you could respond with something to assure him that our Ineffable Husbands will be okay. I really need help cheering him up, he's very upset. His name is Kai and he really is a sweetheart - very tenderhearted so he took it pretty hard. We're both big fans of yours so it would mean a lot, but I completely understand if you're too busy.

Much love,

Blu

Tell him it's okay to feel things and to care about fictional people and about stories. And reassure him that this story is not yet finished. This was the quiet and romantic jam in the apocalypse sandwich, and we have a way to go before it's done.

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Hey tumblr????? This is NOT what I want to see when I open the app why would you hurt me like this

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The sillies...

Aww look at them! :)❤

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SHUT UP!!!! SHUT UP!!!!! STOP POSTING ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

For The Amazing Mr. Fell, all the world's a stage, including Crowley's brain.

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I demand an apology dance

Crowley is living in his car, but also rent-free in Aziraphale's head.

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STOP BC THIS MEANS AZIRAPHALE ABSOLUTELY WENT FOR IT TOO. SO FOR A MOMENT, HOWEVER SMALL... HE WAS KISSING BACK

Didn't notice this at first but the fact Aziraphale pulls his tongue back.... Crowley really fucking went for it didn't he