[rafaelafranzen]

[grumpyhedgehogs]

beelzebub: so now that you’ve fallen, you’re supposed to do bad things. Like tempt people into stuff. murder, lying, stuff like that. just you know, your regular temptations

crowley: i can tempt…anybody?

beelzebub: well…yeah

crowley, busting open the gates to eden, sweating profusely and holding a rose in his mouth: HEY AZIRAPHALE

[trickster-archangel]

Accurate and nice summary of GO

[meggymag]

i can’t conceal it,

don’t you see, can’t you feel it? ❤️

[good-omens-fanart]

[adooboo]

plants grow better with love 

[eachinitsowntime]

[glorious-draenei-eyes]

all of these are gold

[alexthetuna]

oh my god

[eachinitsowntime]

[tus-memes]

Jeff Goldblum, Ladies And Gentlemen

[eachinitsowntime]

[eachinitsowntime]

[thesokovianaccords]

here’s the thing about adulthood-

you will go for like three months with nothing happening and you’re bored as hell and then in the span of two weeks eight different things happen at once - some fantastic and some shitty and some just plain bonkers - and you’re just running around like a chicken with your head cut off and no clue what the fuck is going on

[eachinitsowntime]

You guys are getting three months of nothing?

[roachleakage]

[tragedycamp]

twitter makes me so uncomfortable because weirdness on there is so performative…when someone is weird on tumblr you know they’re eating drywall in life for real….

[startrek-villain]

Reblog to give Cardassians tails

[thegoodomensdumpster]

[lesbianomens]

It’s well into the 1940s the first time Crowley sees Aziraphale wearing glasses. (Their friendship is still tentative. Even after nearly 6,000 years, 80 of complete silence leaves its mark, and they both very deliberately never mention holy water. But they’re trying, and 6,000 years of habit is so very easy and so very comfortable to fall back into.)

So it is that they’re sitting together in Aziraphale’s bookshop, drinking, when Aziraphale goes to pull out some book to support the point he’s arguing. Whatever that point is immediately escapes Crowley’s memory when he sees Aziraphale pull out the spectacles. From the look of them, and the fact that Crowley has never seen Aziraphale wear anything even in the vicinity of “current fashion,” it’s clear he’s had them for a while.

“You wear glassses?” Crowley’s tongue lingers on the sibilants, drawing the word out, and he can’t help the smile that starts across his face, equal parts incredulity and adoration. (Not that he’ll admit to the adoration, not out loud, or to just how cute he finds Aziraphale in them.)

“Well, yes. They’re rather nifty, I thought.” Aziraphale takes them back off and places them down on the desk, expression slightly offended. “You don’t like them?”

“Oh no no no, I didn’t say that,” Crowley hastens to interject. He picks the glasses up, turning them over and examining them. “They’re very you.” He puts them on. (Crowley’s sunglasses have gone…somewhere. He’s sure he’ll be able to find them when he sobers up. Probably.) Then he stops. Blinks a few times. “But they don’t do anything.”

“Of course not. But one must keep up appearances. And aren’t yours the same?”

“Snake eyes, remember?” Crowley gestures vaguely at his face. “Besides, ‘s dark down there. Still not used to all this sunlight.”

Aziraphale reaches past Crowley to grab Crowley’s sunglasses from where they sit half obscured by a stack of papers. Ah, so that’s where they were. Then he frowns. “Six thousand years and you’re still not used to sunlight?”

Crowley shrugs. “But your bookshop is always nice. Dark.”

Aziraphale does not seem entirely satisfied, but after a moment, still frowning, shifts his attention from Crowley’s face to the sunglasses. He runs his fingers along the edges, exploring the entire frame before putting them on. His eyebrows draw together and he grimaces, hastily pulling them back off. “How do you see anything without these?”

“I can see enough.” Crowley shrugs again.

“But what about before?” Now Aziraphale looks concerned, his frown returned and brows furrowed. “Do you mean to tell me that for thousands of years, you couldn’t see properly?”

“Far away isn’t a problem, and wasn’t much call for reading back in the old days. Just squinted a lot. Besides, I can see you.” As long as Aziraphale’s sitting at least a foot away, anyway. “That’s what matters.” And that was too much, wasn’t it? But Crowley is just drunk enough that he can’t bring himself to regret it. 

“Ah. Well. In that case.” A delicate pink flush steals up Aziraphale’s face and he clears his throat. “Back to what I was saying…” Aziraphale fumbles around, then looks back to Crowley, apparently realizing his useless glasses are still sitting on Crowley’s nose. Crowley pushes them up and winks. Aziraphale’s blush deepens as he returns determinedly to his book and his point that Crowley has long since forgotten. And Crowley smiles as he sits back and returns to watching Aziraphale.