#good omens mug

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Fobidden Planet Good Omens Official Merch! 😍❤

Did you know that Forbidden Planet has also official Good Official merchandise? :)

Currently it is :):

Good Omens Mug

Forbidden Planet link - £5.99

Good Omens Coaster

Forbidden Planet link - £3.49

They have one more coaster but it is currently unavailable, you can tho put there your email to be notified when it is avaliable again :).

Good Omens Print

Forbidden Planet link - £7.99

(no, I don't know how big it is :/ :D)

Good Omens T-Shirts

The End Was Just The Start - £15.99

The End Was Just The Start Women's Fit - £15.99

Cheers - £15.99

Cheers Women's Fit - £15.99

Aziraphale Icon - £19.99

Aziraphale Icon Women's Fit - £19.99

Crowley Icon - £19.99

Crowley Icon Women's Fit - £19.99

(and if you're already ordering Good Omens goodies and want a GO cover you don't have, they have these two :):)

The TV cover paperback - £8.99

The blue hardback - £11.99

[princeloww]

GOOD OMENS MUG IN PRIMARK ‼️‼️‼️

(Primark Belfast, Northern Ireland ^)

Edit: it comes with hot chocolate, marshmallows, a whisk and socks with little wings on them THATS SO CUTE someone draw aziraphale wearing the good omens mug socks (pink with white wings)

[radioactive-killjoy]

I could have touched this up more but I got new Apple pencil tips and really wanted to try to draw something. My craft is usually words, not art, so this feels a little silly. But here you go fandom! 👼

[ato-dato]

One mans barber can be another mans nemesis.

[sighed-the-snake]

Aziraphale was such a little bastard (/affectionate) for giving Jim hot cocoa to drink when he knew his old boss's opinion on sullying the temple of his body with "gross matter."

He did the same thing with Muriel, offered them tea knowing what they probably thought of it and then amiably watched them to see what they would do with it.

He's gone rogue, people. He's corrupting Heaven one politely offered hot beverage at a time.

[mizgnomer]

Parallel photos: The Tennants and the Shebergs

[ididthis----onpurpose]

Crowley invented these specifically to prank Aziraphale, who laughed harder than Crowley and insisted he make more

[nocterish]

Don't talk to him, he's angy (and waiting for his angel)

A quick snek Crowley animation to patch up the wound

[lynkhart]

Meet ‘Grow-ley!’

Did I need a new mug? No. Did I buy this one purely because it reminded me of Crowley and I thought I could use it as a cache pot for a plant? Yes, yes I did. 😆

It was about £3.50 in Asda if anyone wants their own snek! I’m tempted to repaint him to be more GO accurate but right now he’s just cute as it is. ❤️

I couldn’t resist getting a snake plant for him, (A bit on the nose? Absolutely!) and when I saw one in the reduced section at the garden centre today it was like fate! So, let me introduce you all to ‘Growley’ the Dracaena ‘Fernwood’

Even under a light my room is probably too dark for it to thrive, and I’ve never had a snake plant before so he may have to move elsewhere eventually but he can live here for now and look adorable. 🐍

@weirdly-specific-but-ok now we’re both in the same boat trying to keep these things alive! 😂😂😂

[onceuponapuffin]

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.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning|| Previous || Next

[mxbongwater]

excited to be absolutely destroyed by the new season

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

(music on) from Georgia's insta :) ❤

[masqueh]

Knitted Aziracrow sharing a hot chocolate

[garethamm]

Morning drink with Jon Hamm!

[cristinaecho]

The Mug

Aziraphale had a ridiculous number of cups. Not because he liked them, not exactly.

It wasn't an obsession or anything... there was just something about cups.

He loved drinking tea and hot chocolate, and he seemed to have made it his mission to find the right cup for every hot beverage.

Now, although he was quite happy with his tea cups, he seemed to struggle to find a satisfactory cup for hot chocolate.

Crowley didn't understand it.

"Give it a rest, they are cups! One is just as good as the other." He would say.

"The right cup for the right drink contributes to the right level of comfort!" Aziraphale would argue.

Crowley would roll his eyes and change the subject.

He just didn't get it.

One winter's day in the early 1990s, Crowley was walking through the streets of London, thinking about what his next demonic act was going to be (a new kind of little sauce packets that wouldn't open properly seemed like a good idea), when something in the window of a small shop in Covent Garden caught his eye.

He stopped, considering for a few moments, then walked in.

When he went to the bookshop that evening, he deftly and nonchalantly snuck into the back room and made a small addition to the angel's collection of cups.

Aziraphale didn't notice; he retrieved his coat and they went out for a lovely dinner at the Ritz.

It was only a couple of days later that the angel noticed the new item on his shelf. It was a mug. An all-white mug with a handle in the shape of an angel's wings. Aziraphale stared at it for a few seconds, confused, flabbergasted. Where did it come from?

He picked it up and examined it carefully, then a soft smile appeared on his face.

There was only one explanation... Crowley.

The angel smiled more and held the mug closer to his chest, blushing a little, his eyes sparkling with joy.

That same night, Crowley went to the bookshop.

He was sprawled out on the sofa, lazily reading the entertainment section in the newspaper, when Aziraphale came out of the back room and sat down in his armchair, right in front of him. He was holding a steaming mug; not just any mug. It was The Mug.

The angel smiled to himself and took a sip, almost theatrically, letting out a soft but very deliberate moan of delight that immediately caught Crowley's attention.

The demon noticed the mug and stiffened for a moment, then went back to his usual nonchalance and looked back at the newspaper.

"New mug?" He asked, casually.

The smile on Aziraphale's face widened. He decided to play along.

"Yes... do you like it?"

Crowley flipped through the pages, continuing to act uninterested.

"I told you, angel... to me one is just as good as the other."

A pause, then the demon swallowed a little, suddenly looking slightly nervous.

"Do you... like it?" He asked, his eyes still fixed on the newspaper.

Aziraphale couldn't help but feel a warm feeling spreading through his chest.

"Yes..." he said. "I like it very much. In fact, I think it might be my favourite mug."

Crowley flipped through the pages.

"Good..." he said, his voice more feeble than he intended. He cleared his throat.

"Then hopefully I will never have to listen to your endless monologues about cups again." Continued the demon.

Aziraphale smiled affectionately.

"No... I guess you won't."

"Great."

Aziraphale just looked at him with infinite love, continuing to smile like a fool.

Crowley shot him a quick glance.

"What?" He said, forcing himself to sound annoyed.

Aziraphale smiled more.

"Thank you."

Crowley stiffened again and shifted a little on the sofa, looking uncomfortable.

"Ngk... just drink your stupid hot chocolate..."

Aziraphale chuckled lightly to himslef and took another sip.

Crowley, hidden behind the newspaper, allowed himself a small, satisfied smile.

[sharkintapshoes]

Went to a restaurant that was full of plants, playing queen, and the menu had a "Heavenly hot chocolate" on it ... I think Aziraphale and Crowley started a new buisness together