I Headcanon That Crowley Knows How To Play Piano Because He Loves Music And HAVE YOU SEEN HIS HANDS And

#i am a girl how can i have such homosexual feelings for this man ?

crowley's looks appreciation → 7/? ↳   the half bun

Good Omens | 1.02 The Book

We need Crowley speaking french. I bet Aziraphale would've stayed if he had confessed in french.

Bestie he wouldn’t have understood a word 😭😭😭😭😭

#yes yes yes #our bookshop #our car #our fragile peaceful life #precious demon #precious angel

I think we're all missing the fact Crowley spent the night in the bookshop while Aziraphale was in Edinburgh. (Aziraphale leaves during the day, picks up Shax at night, and it's clearly morning when he gets Crowley's plants in his face. Also, it's a 6-7 hour drive, so even with some small miracles, that's a looong way.)

"Goodnight!" JimGabriel waves from the top of the stairs, guileless grin plastered on his stupid archangel face.

Crowley realizes the idiot is waiting for a response. Fine. "G'niiiighT."

The door clicks closed upstairs and Crowley is alone, standing in the middle of the bookshop. Aziraphale's bookshop. He can feel the Bentley is still, and wonders where his angel is right now. "Hmph, our car," he sneers, but there is a note of affection mixed with his growl.

He turns slowly, feeling Aziraphale's absence with a pang, then saunters far too casually over to the desk, almost as if he is performing for his absent angel, wondering if Aziraphale can feel the bookshop the way he feels the Bentley. He lingers there, and his hand moves as if of its own accord, touching the papers, caressing the heavy paperweight, the angel's spectacles. The clock ticks softly in the corner. The old building creaks and settles. He murmurs the words, tastes how they feel in his mouth - "Our bookshop."

A moment later Aziraphale's chair is miracled into the hallway upstairs, opposite the door to JimGabriel's room. Crowley sits, whisky tumbler in hand, watching the door. His angel is not the only one who can guard, he thinks, settling in.

writers when they’re proofreading their works for the 34th time *find zero mistakes, there’s no typo, no grammatical error. everything looks good. hit the post button*

writers when they’re reading said works after they’ve been published like proud parents *find 52 mistakes at first glance, 38 typos and 14 grammatical errors with a bunch of inconsistencies and plot holes*

Aziraphale seeing Crowley in his Prince of Hell outfit that he looks terrifying, incredibly hot and handsome in:

“Oh no. I guess this is it. We lost. Heaven lost. You must now imprison me and take me to Hell, Crowley. I shall be your 😏loyal servant😏”

“Aziraphale, what the fuck are you doing, he hasn’t even said anything yet!”

“Shut the fuck, Metatron.”

The Confession

Summary:

The war is over. They have their cottage. Everything should be perfect. But they still have not talked properly and Aziraphale misses seeing joy and happiness in Crowley's eyes. It is time to bring it back - and Christmas might be just the most perfect time for it.

You've endlessly pondered the Glorious Second Kiss. You've dreamed of the Long Emotional Hug. But have you yet considered the Transcendental Forehead Touch?

merry ineffable christmas ❤️