In A Nutshell

totally true😋

Crowley referring to Gabriel, Michael, and the others not as "angels" but as (the honestly more accurate) "angelic entities" in front of Aziraphale is such a wonderful bit of flirt.

Crowley very deliberately not using "angel" to describe anybody else as a nod to Aziraphale that Crowley's romantic pet name for him is a word that he sees as belonging just to Aziraphale is really sweet.

Romancing his angel and shading angelic entities have always been the twin passions of Bildad the Shuhite.

I made another fanvid! With a Hozier song of course, because he seems to have Crowley and Aziraphale on speed dial. For those who have given me other (wonderful!) song suggestions, I will be working on those edits in the near future now that I’ve finished this one! Sending good vibes to all ✨

ANGEL!📣💦

Makeshift pool in the sink.

Such a fucking drama queen!

And it was all yellooooow 💛💛💛💛

Aziraphale & Crowley : Just sitting

Me: Did God know she created something this crazy cuteee softtt ?!!🥹😩🔥🔥

haven't drawn them in a long long time

Can anyone tell me if Good Omens 3 has finished filming? I really hope it will be aired tomorrow

I almost dare not watch it a second time, the pictures and lines are so beautiful that they are like smoke that will dissipate at any time🥺😫

infatuation makes your heart race love is quiet. love sets you at ease.

and because most of my pieces are mental screenshots of little scenes in my head, here's the scene:

Crowley was tugged into consciousness bit by bit. The afternoon light slowly filtered in, as well as the hum of music from the other room and the weird angle his neck was at. He was warm and content and wanted to sink back into his nap, but the threads of sleep fluttered away the more he tried. Finally, he took a deeper breath, shifting in the armchair, and cracked an eye open just a sliver. There he was, the angel, sitting at his desk. Had hardly noticed Crowley was awake, engulfed in his task of retouching a damaged page. Looking at his hands, Crowley became aware of the fuzzy warmth covering his own and peeked down to see a blanket tucked around his shoulders.

The feeling hit him so hard he let his head loll to the side, eyes closed. His chest tightened and he just…buckled. Finally came undone under the weight of his love for Aziraphale. Its inexorable, steadfast pull which he had been pushing back against for millennia, it had finally caught him off guard, sleepy and vulnerable and so tired from holding back, from refusing to name it. It was a quiet surrender. Crowley looked back at Aziraphale with the understanding of a man meeting his end and embracing it.

Perhaps he could gently pull the blanket to the side and get up. Perhaps he could cross the few steps to the desk and place a freshly made cup of tea to Aziraphale’s right. Perhaps he would hold his gaze, for longer than needed to answer “Don’t mention it”. Perhaps he would ask him if he would like a scone with that. Perhaps Aziraphale would understand that this was not about the scone at all. And yet, what Crowley was asking of him was also exactly about scones. And tea. And quiet afternoons together. Perhaps the angel would finally put down his sword, too, and the world would let out a breath it had been holding for millennia.

the soulmate to this piece, i guess.

🥺🥺🥺

ON THE TRACKS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES BBC

a while back when I was in London, my friend and I tracked down some Sherlock locations and I took printed pictures with me to catch the exact scene.

North Gower Street, Russell Square Gardens, Northumberland Street, China Town, ST Bart's Hospital, Eaton Square London.

by farbenfrei & FB       

i desperately need this demon to smile more