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See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
artist-in-space wanna-b-poet31

aziraphale & crowley, in heaven/hell, during a meeting, wishing they were on earth with each other:

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gabriel: then we told them we were looking for pornography. and they believed us!

angels: lmfao humans are so stupid

aziraphale, vowing to never take crowley’s company for granted again: bottoms up

hell: doesn’t give crowley a wahoo

crowley thinking back to when he practiced this with aziraphale, missing his dumb over enthusatic clapping: where the fuck is the tequila

demon: we only have fireball

sensicalabsurdities

Okay, but the idea of Crowley practicing his Hell presentations in front of Aziraphale is so funny, because Aziraphale would want to make a show of disapproving, of course, but he also wants Crowley to feel appreciated, so it’s an odd mix of--

“Crowley, how could you!”

“Shhh, you’re supposed to be Beelzebub!”

“Right. Sorry. Uh, jolly good! Pip pip! You dastardly clever demon, you.”

Crowley practicing his presentations would result in Aziraphale realizing how not evil Crowley really was.

Like, here’s this demon asking an angel what he thought of his powerpoint presentation outlining how he was going to be a general nuisance to the Greater London Area.

artist-in-space

There’s also Aziraphale’s counterpart of reporting his good deeds and most likely Crowley takes note of either Aziraphale overloading miracles (”I helped balance a kid’s ice cream from falling!” “I blessed a crying man’s day today. He just got kicked out of his job but he’ll find the motivation to get a better one!” or even “I followed the ducks today. Just a minor miracle for everyone to see them pass!”) or Aziraphale forgetting his report for the week and he just cashes in his report from a month ago (”Oh don’t dither with me, Crowley, they most likely would think it’s a normal thing to fix that bricked house once in a while.”). 

Crowley shakes his head in disbelief and in awe because while Aziraphale is big on his taxes, the angel has the audacity to make up bull for Heaven and I think that’s beautiful.

super super good good omens yesss aziraphale crowley
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aziraphaleisagender

Crowley was wondering if he should check on Aziraphale.

The angel had finally relented and gotten a mobile phone, though he had threatened to give it away if it started making noises other than the ringtones Crowley had set for him. Given that this model was extremely cheap and could barely support its very high-quality camera, Crowley doubted it would make any noises whatsoever.

Still. Never hurt to make sure. Crowley was reaching for his own mobile (top-of-the-line, perfect in every way, a masterpiece of engineering, with a bright pink Sailor Moon case that he NEVER took outside the flat) when it pinged, the little noise that meant he’d received a text. Frowning, he picked up the mobile and unlocked it.

A text indeed, and from Aziraphale. Crowley frowned harder, and opened it.

It was just a picture of a stack of books. They looked less tatty than some of Aziraphale’s collection, but they weren’t in mint condition. The author names were almost rubbed off completely, but Crowley guessed they were all the same.

Before he could decide what they meant (code? was Aziraphale in trouble? Or did he just want to show his newest acquisitions? Or maybe he was testing the camera?), Aziraphale sent another text.

Angel: I showed you my Dickens please respond.

“OH, FUCK OFF!” Crowley yelled.

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