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

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
negronibird

This is your reminder that although Aziraphale is an adorkable tweed-clad angel that appears mostly harmless most of the time, when he goes to town it’s fucking murder time. Remember, in the book, he just sort of concludes that the 11-year-old kid needs to DIE - and that’s your standard issue apocalypse averted! And it’s his demonic counterpart that shows Adam - and indeed, most anyone in the story - any benefit of the doubt at all. I can just totally see Zira’s eyes narrow and his gentle gaze turn into flint while he’s reaching for his flaming sword because you just picked on his demon and he ain’t having it. Mistreated a book? Hurt Crowley? Tried to bring about the armageddon? Get ready to have your ass smote old testament style. Dat angel don’t mess around once he gets going. Amirite?

i mean don't get me wrong he's still my cinnamon roll but can you honestly claim he isn't just a tad scary when he flips? aziraphale aziraphale x crowley armageddidnt good omens
cosmictuesdays lazuli-blues
dajo42

Sixty. Contrary to popular belief, the worst part of immortality hasn’t been the inevitable loss of everybody I loved.

Fifty-two. I was no stranger to grief already, having lost family, friends, loved ones- it was the worst I’d ever felt, but I decided feeling it again was a worthwhile price to pay to make sure nobody ever had to feel that way for me. It’s sort of noble in its own way.

Forty. The worst part hasn’t even been the technicality that I’m not invincible. I can get hurt, but pain comes and goes. Bones heal. Thirty-three. Scars fade. Most of them. Thirty.

No, realistically, the worst part has been something nobody warned me about. Twenty-six, you know how the last half an hour before your break at work feels like it lasts forever? You just stare at the digital clock in the corner of your screen in that soul-crushing monotony, that painful longing hope for a release, fifteen?

Imagine that feeling of staring at the clock in torturous anticipation but there’s no break at the end, ten. There isn’t even actually an end. There’s nothing to hope for. You just sit and you stare and you count down the minutes and there’s nothing else. There’s nothing else. Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Sixty.

Fifty-nine.

Fifty-eight.

yedrindax uchan-draws
rocksalive

we all talk about az being out of touch w technology but what about crowley. when does mr. “crowley automatically assumed all vehicles he drove would have cassette players and therefore this one did” “he forgot abt speakers so his sound system just works perfectly without them” find out no one uses cassette tapes anymore. when does he find out fax machines are obsolete. does he know what body wash is, bc he doesn’t need to shower and he doesn’t go to the grocery store. has he ever seen a granola bar. does he know about automatic transmissions. if crowley hadn’t invented fruit roll-ups i don’t think he would know what they were. there are unplumbed depths here. crowley doesn’t interact with the world like a human any more than aziraphale does and i think we may have forgotten that

irisbleufic

It’s also a huge and hilarious plot-point that Crowley’s computer is showy, but doesn’t do much, whereas Aziraphale’s is an outright fossil, but very functional. And he uses it to keep all those scrupulous tax records in which nobody can prove he’s getting away with murder somewhere.

amshipl

y’all realize this means that aziraphale is canonically 99x better with computers than crowley. aziraphale keeps incredibly detailed tax records on a computer in the 80s. do you know what computer was the most popular - particularly for financial records - in the 1980s? the IBM personal computer.

image

this thing ran a text-only operating system. the screen couldn’t display any images unless they were ASCII (like the logo shown above). the first iterations didn’t even have a multicolor display - just the standard green on white text you see in retro vaporwave shit.

to use a text-based operating system, you need to know virtually every command you could conceivably need to run in order to do what you need to do. need to open a file? first you need to locate it. you need to type the right command to move to the right directory and then you need to type the right command to open it in a text editor or viewer. you need to either know all these commands, or (in 1983) have them written down in a goddamn book and look them up one by one.

in other words, most people even now wouldn’t have the first idea how to take a crack at one of these motherfuckers.

and of all people, aziraphale can use one - not only reasonably, but well enough to keep tax records SO DETAILED that the IRS DOESN’T BELIEVE THEY ARE REAL.

and crowley’s computer doesn’t do anything. because he doesn’t know how to use it. sure, he’d be able to use windows 10 today with some instruction (what the hell is a mouse for, anyway?) but aziraphale would almost certainly be able to read the error codes the damn thing spits out when crowley inevitably breaks something

azfellandco

#if aziraphale got a new computer today he would install linux on it and do everything from the command line and that’s my final take#good omens

THANK YOU FOR THIS DELIGHTFUL ADDITION AMIAS

crowleyss-glassssess

Crowley: angel, help me, I need to find a new pair of cool leather jacket online, my last one just caught on fire.

Aziraphale with hacker voice: Leave it to me

odditycollector

agreed, but this is because when Aziraphale inputs a command, the computer always does exactly what he expected it to do.

ihasafandom

Aziraphale talks to his computer like he’s talking to a person
By this point his computer is probably a person

He types “show me the picture I took last saturday of a duck” and the computer’s like “you took two pictures of ducks last saturday, here they are.” and ignores the pictures of geese and robins with no tagging required

odditycollector

input: Play that one of Crowley’s cursed bebops I have lodged in my head, please.

input: It goes do do do do do do do.

output:

despite being equipped with a sound system only capable of generating motherboard emergency beeps, somehow a full orchestral & choral cover rendition of Queen’s Fat Bottomed Girls that had not previously existed

good omens headcanons technology long post