#the good omens bus hits ritz

[ritz-writes]

6000 years....

[aziraphales-library]

I’m really not sure how to word this, but can you list me some fics with like... a gimmick? Or a trope? As the basis of the plot? That’s not the best way to word it because it doesn’t have to be gimmickey or tropey, but just... You know, a plot that’s interesting... that starts out with a situation... unusual circumstances?? Am I making any sense? Like I’ve read the stuff that’s easily tagged like spells, fake relationship, soul mates, ect, but just fun, different stuff like that?? Sorry...

First of all, I want to apologise for the super later reply to this ask. I found it sitting unanswered in our drafts. To make up for it, here is an extra long list of gimmicky, tropey fics that i absolutely love!...

i've found a way (a way to make you smile) by curtaincall (T)

Crowley worked in Sales. He had never intended to work in Sales. It had just sort of happened. One moment, there he’d been, a newly minted university graduate off to change the world, exquisitely useless Philosophy degree in hand, and now here he was, having sauntered vaguely downwards into a Hell that consisted mainly of cold-calling new customers and sucking up to existing ones. AU based on The Office.

A (not quite) tinder date by NohaIjiachi (M)

“Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry—“ A man said, breathless, plopping himself down in the chair. He sounded like he ran a marathon. “Got held up at work— I couldn’t even check my phone! I’m so terribly sorry!”

Aziraphale would’ve beamed, at that. He would’ve immediately declared that it was no problem, these things happened, so no worries at all— Except the guy currently catching his breath in the chair in front of him was definitely not his missing date. That was unless he’d decided to shave his beard, make his hair grow magically, and dye it red.

“I—“ Aziraphale croaked, confused. The man tipped his chin down, glancing at Aziraphale above the rim of his darkened glasses with a surprising set of honey-coloured eyes, and winked at him. Aziraphale closed his mouth. “I— It’s quite alright. I’m glad you, huh— Could make it—“

Win a Date With Anthony J. Crowley! by Caedmon (E)

Crowley is a world-famous rock star who sells out arenas. His name is synonymous with 'rock-n-roll', and he thrives on the spotlight. When he agrees to raffle off a date with himself for charity, he's expecting to meet an overzealous fan that wants to wear his skin and very well might try to roofie him. What he's not expecting is to be instantly attracted to the quiet man with the unusual name who shows up for the date at the Ritz... and he's certainly not expecting for Aziraphale to have no clue who he is...

You’ve Got Kudos by curtaincall (M)

Aziraphale and Crowley both write fanfiction. As it happens, they both write Good Omens fanfiction.

Of course, neither of them would ever admit this to the other.

(A love story told primarily in AO3 comments)

The Best Laid Plans by hope_in_the_dark (T)

Ezra Fell has sworn off romance forever and is perfectly content with his books and his tea and his ugly wardrobe. At least, he is until a handsome stranger hits him with a car.

it’s a new craze by attheborder (T)

CROWLEY: I try not to make a habit of gratitude, but I must give our appreciation to everyone out there who’s been listening and subscribing to The Ineffable Plan. AZIRAPHALE: Ooh, yes, we’ve become quite popular, haven’t we? CROWLEY: Yeah, just hit number eight on the advice charts … No advertising at all. AZIRAPHALE: Mm. How … miraculous. CROWLEY: … Aziraphale. You did not.

***

Crowley and Aziraphale are very possibly the people least qualified, on the entire planet, to start up an advice podcast.

But what else is there to do when the world isn’t ending anytime soon, you’re technically on indefinite sabbatical from your lifelong careers, and you need a plausible excuse to spend more time with your best friend who you’re definitely not, absolutely not, maybe just a little, actually maybe overwhelmingly in love with?

happiness, more or less by TheKnittingJedi (M)

Renting a flat is all fun and games until you fall in love with the ghost haunting it.

An adaptation of the 2005 romcom Just Like Heaven.

on the same page by Chekhov (E)

Aziraphale Z. Fell is a rising star of the spiritual literary genre - the next Eat Pray Love guy - and his version of Chicken Soup For the Christian Soul is flying off the shelves. It's not that he's not grateful, but it's one thing to enjoy a career in writing and another completely to be pigeonholed into a specific genre, so much so that you are almost forbidden from writing anything else. So yes, maybe he has a bit of a secret. An outlet for his less... appropriate urges. And yes, if his typical readership got word of the sort of paragraphs he could put out on a particularly inspired night, they might suffer some form of heart attack typical for their age. But all of that is well hidden, and there is absolutely no way anyone would ever find out about his Arrangement with A.J. Crowley - the most debaucherous romantic fiction author of the decade. That is... until they have to pretend to be married to each other.

The Whole Damn World Seemed Upside Down by WyvernQuill (M)

"I just wish things were different," Crowley says... and the universe happily obliges.

Stuck - perhaps forever - in a reality in which Shadwell is the first Wiccan MP, Pepper's only aspiration in life is to be a dutiful wife to someone, and his beloved Bentley is a rusty VW bus, Crowley is slowly learning that "different" doesn't necessarily mean better...

But how long can he bear to live* in a world where Aziraphale hates him?

*Not that he has any other option. The Death of this world can't see blood...

The Annual Tadfield Cheese-Rolling Festival by summerofspock (T)

Disgruntled newscaster Anthony Crowley is forced to cover the annual Tadfield Cheese Rolling Festival...again. Only this year he's accompanied by a new producer who he can't seem to get his mind off of even though he's swiftly realizing he has far bigger problems. Namely, the fact that the Tadfield Cheese Rolling Festival refuses to end.

- Mod D

[megastarstriker]

~{Unfortunate Events}~ 𝑨𝒛𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓  𝒙 𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒆𝒚 ---------------------------------------------- 𝓟𝓡𝓞𝓛𝓞𝓖𝓤𝓔 •·················•·················• ===============

“Faithful Encounters”

   Part One

=================================

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Aziraphale x reader x Crowley

𝙁𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙢: Good Omens

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1,298

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: She was just the new angel that day, only to be casted out on the spot, like a baby bird being thrown out of its nest to learn how to fly on its own against its will. She was an outcast and had no place or purpose there or even in the pits of fire. Now she finds herself reliving her traumatizing nightmare when she was child, as she counts the final days of the world’s demise as she plans ruining ‘The Lady Above’s Great Plan’.( I do not own Good Omens or its characters only the ones I create.)

𝑲𝒆𝒚𝒔 :

(Y/N) = Your Name 

(S/C) = Skin Color 

(B/T) = Body Type

(H/C) = Hair Color

(H/L) = Hair Length

(H/S) = Hair Style

(Y/A) = Your Accent

(C/N) = Country Name

(P/N) = Pet’s Name

(F/C) = Favorite Clothing

=============================================================

Falling..........

Falling...........

I  was Falling..........

At least that’s how it felt. The strong pressure of the fall and whistling of the wind as my eyes were closed not daring to look at what was happening and not being able to almost as if it was forbidden to me. I screamed but my voice was silent and only pitch ringing of church bells stroking were only heard through my ears. As my wings carried me downwards as I tried to flap my way up, I felt a burning sensation at the tips of my wings feathers. A haze of smoke traveling through my nose  causing me to panic. The pain of the burns wasn’t excruciating but it was indeed painful. Moving downwards I could picture the pure white clouds in the sky; feeling their delicate and soft touch grazing barely against my skin through my outstretched arms, small beads of sweats hanging at the tips of my (S/C) toes. My eyes releasing a cold liquid substance onto my (S/C) rosy cheeks, sticking to my skin as my (H/C),(H/L) hair flew gracefully in the wind surrounding me.

Was it the rain in the sky falling or was it my tears silently leaking down my face?

 I would never find out..

Because as soon as I opened my eyes...

I saw a group of shadows above....

a choir of laughs and whispers reaching my ears.......

Although blurry, my sight was focused on them...

I begged them, screamed, and shouted for help as I tried to fly my way out of harm’s way and towards them.

But they then disappeared...

Vanished.....

I was angry at them for being so selfish and insensitive that they couldn’t help...

I tried my best to steady my wings and force them to go up as I hissed in pain.....

But as I looked down to see the state of my hurting wings.....

I realized that my wings were missing and there was nothing residing on my back at all only glimpses of what looked like to be solid ground a couple a feet or miles away from me.......

I screamed at the top of my longs as soon as the solid ground were only mere inches away from my falling, (B/T) form.

__________________________________________

I bolted upright on my bed, as beads of sweat rolled down and dripped my freezing forehead, as I gasped for air. Propping myself on my elbows, I turned the lamp on my bedside table, and looked at the clock on the wall. As it was making a bell chiming noise, that alerted me it read.

𝟕:𝟎𝟎 𝐩.𝐦.

Then the chiming from the Victorian clock dissipated as soon as it hit ‘7:01′ A few moments later.

❝Stupid Clock❞, I muttered angrily in my American/(Y/A) accent.

Grabbing and throwing my pillow that was resting on my bed, at the wall a few feet below were the clock was pinned up, but purposely trying to hit the clock.

I groaned tiredly rubbing the dirt of my sleepy eyes and stretching my eyes as a small yawn came out of my lips. I then stood up, causing a slight creak as my weight left the warm, cozy covers and comforts of my bed. I approached the curtains and tugged them to the side to reveal the bright world and beaming sun from the other side of my window. It was quite sunny without a doubt, a great day for outside activities, like picnics, and walks on the park. I smiled a bit as I thought of going for a walk, as I looked down at the people who were walking across my apartment on the streets of London. That’s Right.

I live in Soho, London.

Not the grandest thing like I would’ve liked back in Sweet America/(C/N), but well enough to enjoy, I guess. Besides, I could switch countries whenever I want, its really one of the perks and miracles of well you know an angel.....or a demon....I really don’t have a clue right know, but I really couldn’t care less right know as much as I wanted to. My mood quickly changing its sour and angry demeanor to a sweet and giddy one as I watched the world doing its wonders and works. 

❛Speaking of works❜, I thought as I remembered my ‘human’ friend,❛Gotta get ready, wouldn’t want her to scream her head off because of me.❜ 

I laughed softly to myself wondering the look on her face, the color of a cute tomato in fury as she yelled at me for being late to meet her at the Ritz for some ‘sweet news’ and ‘gossip girl talk’ on her job as she liked to call it.

❝Well, better not keep her waiting❞, I muttered softly as I looked ahead at the window’s view from outside.

❝Right, Socrates❞, I said while not turning my head and still keeping my gaze fixated on the view.

I then heard a slight hiss from the glass box near the table next to me, keeping the beady and slit-pupiled eyed creature secured who was looking at me in a sassy manner.

I laughed lightly at its response. I had many names for Socrates, because well I didn’t know a name good enough for it to be official, so usually I would call him Socrates or (P/N) just to be respectful.

As I brushed my silky and soft (H/C),(H/L) hair, I thought about that horrible dream much said nightmare last night. It felt real, thinking about it gave me chills and goosebumps. Never even want to mention it or talk about it much.

I shook my head in thought and looked myself in the mirror after I finished brushing my hair and did it nicely into a (H/S) style. I then made my way over to the closet and picked what I thought would look nice and was great for days like these. I picked out a gallant looking suit it was grey and looked very sketchy but cute overall and it hugged my perfect figure nicely. It almost made me look like a business woman of sorts. I was still debating whether to wear this or something else from the other clothes I had, but I guess I’ll go ahead and try this for today and if the weather gets a bit hot for me I can always bring my personal (F/C) to wear later.

I then went down stairs and went to my bookshelf of my old collection of editions and went and grabbed one entitled ❛The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri❜ 

I hummed satisfied as I looked at the polished cover and took it with me in case I was bored and wanted to read. I put it in my bag and as I finished putting on any needed accessories on myself. I was off the doors of my household and walked down the pavement of the streets of Fancy Soho, London. Happily humming a sweet tune of  ❛Crazy Little Thing Called Love by Queen❜  as I walked with each step of my feet as a sort of dance.

Halfway at my destination I swore I spotted a familiar vehicle parked a few feet away from...a very classy Bentley and a beautiful one too. A very similar now that you can remember. I then heard a horn going off as I walked halfway past it abruptly stopping as I did. I then stopped and looked at it closer.

❛Hmm....❜, I squinted a bit at it but then kept whistling and humming Queen songs as I did and occasionally a few classics like Beethoven,❛ It couldn’t be ....I’m just imagining things ,huh.❜

Then as I kept walking through a crowd of people, I could catch a glimpse medium and wavy flaming red and ginger hair walking between the crowd of people. Then while I was distracted, I bumped into someone causing me to stumble slightly. I then looked up and saw something that made my eyes widen slightly and my heart beat faster. The person had ginger flaming medium length hair that swayed freely with each step and wore Jet black glasses, a very nice combination of outerwear consisting a leather jacket and greyish black shirt and pants with very classy dark shining shoes. What made him stand out the most was unnoticeable hidden tattoo of a snake below his sideburn.

❛ Crowley !!❜ , I thought.

But before I could confirm my suspicions he was gone in a flash and I lost sight of him.

❛ That could’ve been any ginger head man.... Right?❜,  I thought as I made my way to the restaurant.

----------------------------------------------------------

This part one of the Prologue of my Good Omens Series on the next part we will maybe have an encounter with a lovely angel friend

I hope you enjoy~

[makumii]

Good Omens Angst

I am kinda drunk but apparently this didn’t stop me from writing a small angsty thing for those two dorks.

This hasn’t been proof read and I am sorry for wonky grammar

Just a warning: this is ficlet takes place right after Az got discorporated and how Crowley deals with the loss of his best friend. So it’s pretty much all sadness and grieve.

Maybe I’ll upload it to ao3 once i get my account back

The bookshop is currently burning down, and he was gone. His best friend. His angel.

Crowley sank to his knees in middle of the flames, shoulders hanging in defeat. The firefighters outside were shouting in panic, since they didn’t expect a civilian to just run inside the brightly lit building. The demon ignored them. He also ignored the flames that started feeding off his jacket. ‘So, this is what it feels like’, he thought, ‘what it feels like when you lose someone dear to you’.

Next to him a bookshelf collapsed and sent another wave of sparks through the room. Crowley dared to look up from the ground to observe the once so beautiful bookshop. The flames swallowed everything. From rugs to ancient books. Nothing was spared. Not even his angelic companion, who he shared thousands of years with. Pain struck Crowley again. It felt like he was hit by a bus repeatedly, so he screamed. He was sad and furious and struck with grief and if it wouldn’t have been in his best friend’s sanctuary he was currently in, he would’ve lashed out, thrown stuff, set more things on fire. Right now, his only option however was to get out, to get away. He couldn’t take it any longer, so he ran. Out of the remains of the shop, out of Soho. He didn’t pay attention to the confused firefighters or pedestrians or cars. He just ran.

 When Crowley stopped, he found himself in St. James’ Park. ‘Fuck’ he said. Memories of their time together in the park took away his breath. The picnics, the completely-unsuspicious meetings every other week, but also the times they fought. ‘Had minor disagreements.’ He corrected himself. Crowley shook his head and slowly walked along the familiar gravel path. Some ducks eyed him, hoping he would throw them some crumbs. The ducks are smart, they remember who feeds them. The park was surprisingly empty, Crowley noticed, so he sat down on their regular spot. As he watched the ducks swim around, he felt a tear slowly trickling down his cheek. He blessed himself. Since when did he cry. Since when did bloody demons cry. He swallowed hard and once more shook his head. A couple walked by and looked at him with pity in their eyes. Crowley took a second to look at himself and couldn’t blame them. Ash covered him and his jacked had burns all over. Usually he would just miracle himself into a presentable state again but this time he couldn’t care less about his appearance.

Hours have passed, or it could’ve been mere minutes, since Crowley sat down. The serpent didn’t care. Far away he heard some glasses clink and loud laughter and he knew what he needed right now. Extraordinary amounts of alcohol. He reached behind the bench and pulled out a bottle of wine. ‘Why.. just why’ He took a big gulp, the wine leaving a bitter taste on his tongue. ‘Are you happy now?’ Crowley shouted facing the darkening sky. It’s nearing dinner time. Some days he would just skip it, but other times he tempted his angel to some nice dinner at the Ritz. Crowley appreciated these moments. They both could forget about their sides and the rules and just enjoy a nice evening out, being themselves. Occasionally the angel would even invite Crowley over for dinner and they’d prepare a nice meal together. The human way, no miracles involved. ‘No more meals together.. no more angel.’ Another gulp. By now the bottle is half empty, the alcohol doing almost nothing to Crowley so far.

He decided to relocate to a more private place. With heavy steps he started walking in the direction of his own flat.

 The next few hours involved lots of alcohol and blessing and screaming. Crowley didn’t know what else to do. The place where humans had hearts physically hurt. It pulsed and tugged and tore him apart. When it got almost too much to bear he would scratch and claw at the nearest piece of furniture. When he had nothing but walls within reach, he would dig his nails in his arms and throw himself against the solid wall. He wrecked the entire place and it would need more than just one miracle to get this place cleaned up.

As the sun started to rise, Crowley cowered in a corner surrounded by a dozen emptied bottles and wrapped in his wings. At one point it just took too much to keep them in. All the anger and sadness and grieve got replaced by a feeling of emptiness. Crowley didn’t want to get up. He didn’t want to leave his cocoon and face reality. Maybe if he wished for it hard enough, he would get Az-..his angel back. But Crowley knew better than anyone that She didn’t answer wishes. She always played her own game.

He lingered in this position until late afternoon. Slowly he pushed himself up the wall, every limb and wing stiff from being in the same spot for too long. Shuffling through the bottles on the floor the demon made his way to the bathroom to take a shower. He avoided looking at the mirror, because as confident as he was with his current look, he also knew he must look like shit in that moment. Turning the water as hot as possible he stood there, staring at the wall. Memories from long ago hit him again. Memories of the first rainfall, the first storm. But also, how the angel shielded the serpent from said rain with one of his wings. Crowley caressed his own wings, feathers all ruffled. Not as neat as usual. On time he proposed to his angel the idea of grooming each other. Crowley knew his friend almost agreed to it. Almost. He turned off the water, dried the heavy feathers and put his wings back where they belong. Once he was done in the bathroom, he finally dared to look in the mirror. He truly looked terrible and not in a ‘I’m a big scary demon’ way. More in a ‘I lost all hope and will to live’ way. He took a quick tour through his personal space and decided he really didn’t want to stay in this miserable place any longer. So, he headed out and made his way to an old pub he once discovered in the middle of the city.

 When he entered the shabby building, he earned a few distrustful glances, but also a sympathetic smile from the bartender, a middle-aged woman who knows the look of a heartbroken man all too well. She also made sure the drinks were coming and Crowley never had an empty glass. So, Crowley sat there, drinking and thinking. He sat there for hours. Once the pub closes the bartender politely kicked everyone out, except Crowley. This would hardly be considered a miracle, Crowley thought.

So, he sat there, getting more and more drunk. Slowly the feeling of emptiness got replaced by despair. No matter how much he drank this feeling would get stronger with every passing hour. At one-point Crowley stopped keeping track of time and just focused on not falling apart.

On the third day he finally broke. It was early in the morning and no one was at the pub yet, when the tears started streaming down his face and uncontrollable sobs echoed through the empty room. He cried and cried and couldn’t stop. Occasionally he stuttered words, unintelligible for humans since they were spoken in a tongue not known by men. But they would roughly translate to ‘They took my beloved’ and ‘why him’ or sentences of equal meaning. For the first time in days he also spoke his friend’s name out loud. Just a small word against the loud sobs. ‘Aziraphale..’

In his sadness he reached out to something invisible, hoping he would be able to somehow take a hold of his angel. But nothing. Crowley let his hand fall flat on the table and just started out of the windows he was facing with an empty look. It all had no point. What was he supposed to do without his angel, his literally better half. Tired he rested his head on the table, arm still sprawled across the table. He could almost hear the angel. ‘Oh, my dear boy’ He would say. He would also gently touch his hand.

Crowley’s eyes snapped wide open. ‘Am I going insane?’ he thought to himself. He felt just the slights hint of an hand on top of his own. He didn’t dare to look up. It was surely his mind playing tricks on him. But he heard the voice again ‘Crowley, dear’ it said while his hand got gripped a bit firmer. The demon took a deep breath and prayed, for the first time in eons, that this wouldn’t be another one of Her cruel tricks.

Slowly he rose his head and turned to the window. Sitting there, beautifully illuminated by the setting sun, was his angel. His Aziraphale. A gasp escaped Crowley’s mouth as he gaped at the ghost-like appearance in front of him. ‘What happened to you? Oh, I am so sorry’ Now the hand gently cupped Crowley’s face, who was still pretty much in shock. Slowly he got a hold of his senses and stammered out ‘I.. you…. the fire!’. Aziraphale only looked at him confused so Crowley tried again. He removed his shades and looked at his partner with swollen eyes that held all the world’s sadness and pain in them. And Aziraphale understood. ‘Out of all these years we’ve been friends I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry’ His thumb caressed the demon’s cheek, as if he was trying to wipe away the tears. Swallowing down a big lump in his throat Crowley replied: ‘I never had a reason to. It may not have been easy for me all the time, but never ever has someone killed my best friend.’ The angel just gaped at him with wide eyes, realizing what his partner just said. Crowley grieved because he thought he was dead. ‘Oh, Crowley dear, I got discorporated. But now I’m back, see?’ he put his second hand on the other cheek of the demon ‘I just need to find a new body, my dear’ Crowley nodded slightly, slowly calming down and processing what has happened and that he got his angel back.

For the first time in eons he thanked Her.

[ritz-writes]

for the ask game!! 🌻 1, 3, 11, 12, 24!

1: when did you first watch/discover good omens, and how did you find out about it? I heard about it when s1 came out, but didn't watch it. Only saw a gif of the tarmack scene before satan shows up and went "oh hey its david tennant." at the beginning of august, right after s2 came out, my partner @novelcain said we should watch it (and mentioned it very causally cuz they knew i was neck deep in lego monkie kid brainrot). We watched it all in 2 days and I've never had a fixation grab me by the throat so fast 😂 (novel also saw spoilers for the kiss and a few other things but specifically kept it to themself and acted surprised so i would get the full effect <3)

3: have you created any fanart or fanfiction, or really any content for the fandom? yep! I've made fanart and fics for the series and for au's. If im awake, theres a 70% chance I'm thinking of some kind of fic idea. no, thats not an exaggeration

11: what is (if you read) your favorite type of human au for good omens? (ex. coffee shop au, surgeons au, plant store au) i honestly dont read many human au's cuz I like the angel demon stuff from canon, but all of @mrghostrat's human aus are my favs. If i had to pick one of his, I'd probably say streamer au :3 (bnf is a very very close second tho)

12: has your interaction with the good omens fandom been overall good or bad? oh its be absolutely amazing here for me. I've heard about the discourse second hand, and have only seen a handful of bad things myself. everyone ive interacted with personally have been very kind <3

24: what's a theory for season 3 that you NEED to be included? 1941 PART 3!!! I so so badly want there to be a part 3. SOMETHING happened and I need to know what. There's also the south downs cottage, but we all assume thats the official endgame since neil and terry said it years prior. but since we technically dont know, i guess it still counts as a theory. so south downs would def be my number one (i also very very VERY much want to see them hold hands ;w;)

heres the link to the ask game if anyone wants to send more