Lets Boop A Nightingale

Let’s boop a nightingale

We’ve booped each other a long time. We’ve been on this site for a long time. I mean, you and me. I could always boop on you. You could always boop on me. We’re a team, a group. Boop of the two of us. And we’ve spent our existence pretending that we aren’t booping. I mean, the last few years, not really. And I would like to boop… I mean if Gabriel and Beelzebub can do it, boop off together, then we can. Just the two of us. We don’t need Heaven, we don’t need Hell, they’re toxic. We need to boop away from them, just boop us. You and me, what do you say?

Why the fuck are all the songs in the world about these two idiots?!

My two cents (or a farthing) in putting together a breakup divorce temporary separation playlist for the ineffable husbands. I think Crowley and Aziraphale will both vehemently deny getting teary-eyed at some of the lyrics, or in Crowley's case bawling along drunk 'Sshtay with me-e-ee'.

I have faith that these angelic entities, who have been through so much together, will find each other stumbling through some major fuck ups and will end up together again. Holding hands at least. The playlist starts out with some serious heartache and pain and morphs more into hope and faith at the end. With a nightingale.

Music by: David Arnold, Brian Eno, John Cale, Archive, Michelle Gurevich, Shakespears Sister, Beck, Michael Kiwanuka, Chris Isaak, Karine Polwart, John Grant, Missy Higgings, The Irrepressibles, Daniel Lanois, Peggy Lee, Joseph Arthur, Angus & Julia Stone, Ane Brun, Ben Harper, Racoon, Ada, Hilda Gudnadottir, Cosmo Sheldrake

would you put a discarded fruit sticker on my forehead in whimsical jest yes or no

Werehistorical fiction. Crime help. Thrillerotic.

My latest @guardian books cartoon.

One of my favourite GO fic series. A demon and angel professor AU. Full of mischief. And full of heart. Most fics can be read alone and there are little story arcs with recurring characters. Nuanced and varied representation within the series.

Later, at home, they laugh openly about it, and lay bets on how long it will be before this year’s undergraduates catch on that they are married.

“Your turn to drop a clue next, angel,” Crowley drawls from where he sprawls with his feet on Aziraphale’s lap.

Is there already a karaoke fanfic of good omens?

I have decided that that is what is needed to fill my procrastination dive.

Something like:

They both do not want to be in the damp cellar with orange and pink flickering lights. Ugh. Their mutual friends have convinced them to come. Anathema has lured Crowley to be there. Crowley knew what she was doing but still could not resist a perfectly executed lure like that. So he slunk along. Newt simply asked Aziraphale, gently saying he would really like him to be there and slightly opening his eyes, knowing the angel would never say no. And carefully not answering when the angel asked if karaoke meant modern music.

Which is why they find themselves at 1am, slightly unsteady because of alcohol, on a stage meeting each others eyes for the first time.