clacomat
Clacomat, she/hermassive Good Omens fan
153 posts
Latest Posts by clacomat
infatuation makes your heart race love is quiet. love sets you at ease.
and because most of my pieces are mental screenshots of little scenes in my head, here's the scene:
Crowley was tugged into consciousness bit by bit. The afternoon light slowly filtered in, as well as the hum of music from the other room and the weird angle his neck was at. He was warm and content and wanted to sink back into his nap, but the threads of sleep fluttered away the more he tried. Finally, he took a deeper breath, shifting in the armchair, and cracked an eye open just a sliver. There he was, the angel, sitting at his desk. Had hardly noticed Crowley was awake, engulfed in his task of retouching a damaged page. Looking at his hands, Crowley became aware of the fuzzy warmth covering his own and peeked down to see a blanket tucked around his shoulders.
The feeling hit him so hard he let his head loll to the side, eyes closed. His chest tightened and he just…buckled. Finally came undone under the weight of his love for Aziraphale. Its inexorable, steadfast pull which he had been pushing back against for millennia, it had finally caught him off guard, sleepy and vulnerable and so tired from holding back, from refusing to name it. It was a quiet surrender. Crowley looked back at Aziraphale with the understanding of a man meeting his end and embracing it.
Perhaps he could gently pull the blanket to the side and get up. Perhaps he could cross the few steps to the desk and place a freshly made cup of tea to Aziraphale’s right. Perhaps he would hold his gaze, for longer than needed to answer “Don’t mention it”. Perhaps he would ask him if he would like a scone with that. Perhaps Aziraphale would understand that this was not about the scone at all. And yet, what Crowley was asking of him was also exactly about scones. And tea. And quiet afternoons together. Perhaps the angel would finally put down his sword, too, and the world would let out a breath it had been holding for millennia.
the soulmate to this piece, i guess.
I totally agree
good omens characters I would trust with my car (if I had one)
Who I would let borrow my car:
Crowley. That demon would take care of my car - I'm talking pristine seats, clean glovebox, the shiniest it's ever been. He would claim that he wasn't doing it to be nice (he's not nice) and complain about how dirty it was before but we all know the truth. All my CD's would probably be mysteriously replaced with Queen (if he has to listen to it all time, so does everybody else.) There would be 17 parking tickets in 5 different languages on the dash. When you get the car back you realise that you gave it to him with a nearly empty tank but for some reason he didn't seem to refill it? And it worked perfectly fine???
Aziraphale. Look we both know when I get it back it'll be bright yellow and probably look like it's off a 60s sitcom but I mean look at his FACE is that the kind of face you could say no to? Yeah, I don't think so. He would be all "pretty please could I borrow your beautiful car" and the keys would be his. I don't blame Crowley for letting him drive the Bentley I would also forfeit all my mortal possessions to this angel.
Anathema. She wouldn't ask she'd just grab my keys and be like "I'll be back at 6:02" and who am I to question it? it would be 6:02 exactly and the car would turn up in my driveway covered in dirt. where did all the dirt come from??? I don't think I want to know. There would be a sticky note on the dashboard with a cryptic prophecy involving an elaborate generation-long ruse and today's wordle answer. would I let her borrow it again? probably.
Who I would not let borrow my car:
Newton Pulsifer. This man would rename my car words that haven't even been invented yet. He would've used my number plate to sign up for a Spanish inquisition fanclub. Heaven forbid that I have a Bluetooth speaker inside (it would turn into a green tooth speaker or something I swear.) The car would end up in a ditch in the neighbour's cornfield. He would offer me toast as an apology.
Sergeant Shadwell. Let's just say he uses the buses for a reason.
Archangel Gabriel. My radio would exclusively play bible stations from now on. The car would glow pure white and float above the ground. He would get pulled over for going 3km on the motorway. His driver's license would say 'human Gabriel who's a completely normal human being. profession: definitely not archangel of heaven. (that'll fool 'em guys) age: human. He would sit and watch the windscreen wipers go back and forward for 5 hours like a cat.
*crowley imagines what Alpha centauri looks like*
(My fanart btw)
📚 Memories 📦
They're moving into their shared cottage, finally! And of course they will unbox some old and new memories. Who knew a silly old thermos could hold so much meaning?
Ko-Fi Shop | Patreon
(May's Patreon mini print! Sign up until the end of the month to get it ⭐️)
what abled ppl think is a massive problem for disabled folks: 13 year old on the internet faking something
what is actually a massive problem for disabled folks: "well you don't LOOK disabled, are you sure you're not faking? I'm not giving you accommodations until you PROVE you're not faking. Please give me, a stranger, your medical info and explain your condition to me in detail so I know you're not faking and only then will I respect or take you seriously"
I wrote something and I actually like it and I don’t have anywhere else to put it so here! It’s kinda sad, so be warned.
As The World Caves In
Summary: What if the world actually ended? What if Aziraphale and Crowley spent the last moments together? What if they danced?
Crowley had always been an optimist, had always believed that things would turn out his way. When delivering the Antichrist, when raising Warlock, even after realizing they’d been looking after the wrong boy, all the way up to the end, Crowley held the firm belief that everything would be ok.
Now he couldn’t find it in him to believe that. Now it really was the end.
He and Aziraphale tried, they really did. They looked everywhere, followed every clue, every possible lead, exhausted all of their resources and came up with nothing. In about half an hour it would all be over, and there was nothing they could do about it.
Which is why they were, instead of stopping Armageddon, sitting on the sofa in the back room of the bookshop, sharing a bottle of wine. It was a very nice and expensive vintage, but the world was ending and they certainly weren’t going out drinking cheap wine.
“Twenty five minutes,” Aziraphale said solemnly, looking over at the clock on the wall.
“Don’t remind me,” Crowley replied, taking a sip of his wine.
“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale looked down at his glass, sounding hurt.
“It’s fine. Not your fault, I just… it’s not fair. I don’t want this to end,” Crowley sighed.
“I know,” Aziraphale said. “Neither do I.”
Crowley couldn’t help but recall the conversation they’d had after the antichrist had been delivered and he was trying to convince Aziraphale to help him save the world. He remembered listing the things Aziraphale would miss, and that he, by proxy, would miss too. The bookshop, music, food, all gone. Forever.
“Crowley?”
Shit. There were tears in his eyes. He should’ve left his sunglasses on.
“I’m fine,” He said. Aziraphale must not have seen the point of arguing, because he didn’t. Crowley, however, felt the need to fill in the silence. “I just- I’ll miss this. Music, the bookshop, wine, you.”
“Oh,” Aziraphale gave him a look he couldn’t decipher. “So will I.”
“Maybe we could put a record on?” Crowley suggested. Anything to take his mind off of what was about to happen.
“Of course. What about that Queen one you sent me back in the nineties?” Aziraphale said. Crowley was almost surprised at the suggestion.
“Yeah. Yeah, sounds nice.”
Aziraphale took a few minutes, there were just twenty left now, to find the record. It started to play Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy, a song that had always secretly reminded Crowley of them, and then somebody to love after that.
“We should dance,” Aziraphale said unexpectedly.
“What?” Crowley blinked, nearly dropping his wineglass.
“I- I said ‘we should dance’. I mean, may as well, what with the world ending and all, and I thought it’d-“
“Yes,” Crowley cut Aziraphale off before the angel could spiral any further. “I’d like that.”
He stood, as did Aziraphale, and they moved to the center of the room, which had suddenly become vacant of furniture.
Crowley put a hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder, Aziraphale put a hand in Crowley’s waist, and they began a simple waltz. Aziraphale had never gotten the hang of any dance that wasn’t the gavotte, but he’d read enough to know the basics of how to waltz, and Crowley had always been good enough for the both of them, so while it was awkward, they made it work.
At some point, Crowley started to softly hum along to the song, head on Aziraphale’s shoulder.
“I’ll miss you, did I say that?” Crowley murmured after a certain song about nightingales, which had not been on the record, started.
“You did,” Aziraphale confirmed softly.
“I mean it, y’know. I’ll miss you more than anything else here,” Crowley’s voice broke, tears welling up in his eyes. It felt like a confession, a weight off his chest.
“I’ll miss you too,” Aziraphale said.
“More than your Wilde collection?” Crowley asked, half joking. Aziraphale rolled his eyes.
“Yes, more than all the books in this shop combined,” He replied, and although there was a begrudging note to his voice, it was sincere.
A distant explosion sounded. Crowley choked on a sob. We’ll Meet Again by Vera Lynn, another song that had not been on the record started. They stopped dancing, and just held each other.
At that moment Crowley knew he had to say it. Now or never, and he needed Aziraphale to at least know.
“I love you.”
Aziraphale tensed, and Crowley’s stomach dropped, because he hadn’t quite considered the possibility that the last thing he’d ever hear his angel say would be a rejection.
Then after a moment, quietly, almost tentatively: “I love you too.”
Crowley pulled away slightly to look Aziraphale in his beautiful, sky blue eyes. “You do?”
Aziraphale nodded, breaking into a watery smile. “Of course, dear boy. Since that time in 1941.“
Another explosion sounded, this time close enough to shake the bookshop and make the windows rattle in their frames.
“It was Eden for me. God, we wasted so much time,” Crowley choked back another sob.
“Either way, I’m glad you told me,” Aziraphale said.
“Maybe- I mean, if you’d like…” Crowley took a deep breath. “Can we kiss? While we still can?”
Aziraphale responded by leaning in first, putting his lips to Crowley’s, kissing him softly and sweetly. Crowley kissed back, pulling the angel closer as tears slid down his face.
And as the world caved in around them, the angel and the demon kissed and held each other, making quiet promises of forever that they both knew they couldn’t keep.
1967: you go too fast for me Crowley, or the year the Wolfenden report actually came into effect.
It is no secret that in 1957 the Wolfenden Committee recommended the decriminalisation of private homosexual activity between consenting adults over the age of 21, but with heavier penalties against homosexual activity in public places.
This is precisely what Anathema thinks of when she comments in the book that her book had been left in the back of the car of 'two consenting cycle repairmen'.
Not only does that inform us as readers that the characters within the book perceive Crowley and Aziraphale as being a couple, especially by the (arguably) cleverest witch in the book, but also that their appearances (physical corporations) do in fact look older than 21 years old. (the age of consent)*
*It would take until the 2000s for the age of consent to be equalised, and for lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender personnel to be able to serve openly in the armed forces.
But coming back to the term 'consenting' and the significance within the overall plot of Good Omens series-wise is the fact that they chose 1967, precisely 10 years later after the Wolfenden report and the year the Sexual Offences Act was passed (which decriminalised private homosexual acts between men aged over 21 in England and Wales, while at the same time imposing heavier penalties on street offences) as a crucial point in storytelling.
This is the last scene we see of them after the montage; this is precisely the point where Aziraphale makes that big, first move towards Crowley and manifests himself inside of the Bentley to protect him from a burglary that could have ended in disaster. This is Aziraphale stepping outside from his own box and venturing into admitting that yes, he would enjoy Crowley's company as more than just an Arrangement. He would like the picnics, he would like to dine openly with him.
And this comes precisely at a time, a real world setting where even the Archbishop of Canterbury agreed, saying: “There is a sacred realm of privacy ... into which the law, generally speaking, must not intrude" (referring to homosexuality).
Although we know Aziraphale and Crowley are not men, but rather men-shaped beings of the world, there is something to be said about how the 1967 act reflects on Aziraphale's 'heavenly' beliefs and how that can be attributed not only to homosexuality*, but also a realm of privacy where neither Heaven or Hell (religion itself) need to interfere with his affairs.
*we do know, however, how much the book and tv series lean into Aziraphale being 'gay', at least in our human understanding of labels and categorizing even though he is not; "pansy" "nancy boys" "gayer than a treeful of monkeys on nitrous oxide" (this one specifically marking Aziraphale canonically in the book as appearing to be a homosexual) "you've got the wrong shop" among others.
A real life anecdote from the time says: John Carter was 17 at the time and doesn’t have a clear memory of the bill passing; he only realised the significance of the change with hindsight. He came out in the early 70s, after making contact with his university’s gay society, which wouldn’t have existed were it not for decriminalisation. “It meant that people could meet … and freely associate.” That was crucial, he says, because, “if you don’t even have a space where you can go, then people are cruising, they’re cottaging * ... It took many years for people who had been constantly looking over their shoulder, being worried, to develop proper ways of relating to each other. Ways that were not just based on sex or compromise or fear.”
*(No, cottaging is not living in a cottage)
No matter that the law had been passed, there was still a lot of stigma surrounding the word 'homosexual'. It wasn't until the 80s and 90s that it stopped being a crime in Scotland and Ireland; being further stigmatized with the AIDS crisis in the late 80s.
Regardless of the nature of the open confession Aziraphale lays bare to Crowley in 1967, it most definitely can be read as a 'coming out' for him. Perhaps not dealing with sexuality directly, but with religion layered on top of that. It is still too fast despite of the year, in spite of the millennia worked together under false pretenses. But it is an exterior, real life push that reinforces the idea for him to see that- if humans are able to recognize that man could be with man and not call it a crime, why could that same thinking not be applied to an angel and a demon living on Earth?
Aziraphale is doing more than blurting his heart out, he is openly hoping for the time that matches 1967 in its decriminalisation of homosexuality to one that applies for him and Crowley. So the thermos, the "better not" say thank you just yet, is a lingering promise to be there for when it finally happens. One which Crowley accepts with bare, open hands.
aziraphale catches crowley etching their initials into a tree in their back garden
read our collab with @crowleystits, inspired by a mug, in the chapter here!
I wanna talk about The Angel Who Would Be Crowley.
Because I had a certain set of expectations, which got thoroughly trashed in the first five minutes of S2, and my genuine response is, "Oh, fuck, yup. You're right. That's WAY better."
Looking around at GO fandom, I'm not alone in this. So let's talk about it.
Basically, a lot of people (myself included) believed that he was a high-ranking angel, and therefore as chilly and remote as every other powerful angel we'd seen at that point. We pictured Crowley-To-Be as long-haired, regal and imposing --and the fanart at the time reflected this. I'd link some if Tumblr didn't hate links.
Something like this:
We were collectively drawing on a few things --mostly, Crawly's appearance and general bearing in the Biblical scenes of S1--
--But also scattered hints of his importance, backed up by conspicuous absences in Heaven and a few profound displays of power. That's all better covered elsewhere, so I won't reiterate the arguments here. All I'm saying is: I think our headcanons were justified.
But it turns out he was this:
!!!
With his curly little--!!
And his neat white--!!
IT TURNS OUT, he was an angel who squeaked and squealed when he was happy; who flailed his arms around and made explosion noises with his mouth to explain nebulas; who preened when told his stars were pretty. Furfur, who knew him before the Fall, says:
"You used to jump on me back, little monkey in a waistcoat..."
(The use of a diminutive there, 'little'...oh, that fascinates me.)
In a pretty huge subversion of expectations, we're given these glimpses of an angel who was sweet, and joyful, and heart-meltingly silly.
In sum...an innocent.
(Perhaps innocent to a troubling degree.
We see how he troubles Aziraphale, during their first conversation. He starts looking around and behind them, checking to make sure that no one can HEAR the blithe and reckless things coming out of this angel's mouth. This angel who talks like he's never been reprimanded in his life; like it's never occurred to him that anyone would want to hurt him.
Before the Beginning, Aziraphale understood Heaven better than he did. The danger is plainly occurring to Aziraphale.)
So now, we the viewers are in on a cruel joke that Aziraphale has known all along, which is that this --THIS-- is the angel who--
*checks notes*
--did a million lightyear freestyle dive into a boiling pool of sulphur. For asking questions.
...Imagine you are Aziraphale, and everything inside you wants to believe Heaven are the Good Guys, and God is Good and Everything She does is capital-R Right...and now try to reconcile that. Keep trying. I don't think he ever totally managed it in 6000 years.
All this gets further complicated when we learn that, despite all of the above, we were still right. That sweet excitable babby up there?
He WAS a powerful and high-ranking angel.
That much is explicitly confirmed, with significant evidence that he could have been among the mightiest of archangels...
...Who apparently accosted his fellow angels for piggyback rides. And was remembered millennia later by those (now fallen) angels as something 'little.'
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
Hell, Aziraphale has known to be wary of the archangels (and the judgements of Heaven in general) since before the Fall even happened. He chooses to believe they are Good; he can't fool himself into thinking they are Safe.
Yet he's absolutely certain that Crowley won't hurt Job's children. Enough to stand in a burning building and say to them, "I can't save you, but don't be afraid. I won't need to."
And what reason does he give?
("I know you."
"You do not know me."
"I know the angel you were.")
What does that tell us about who he was? Is?
("The angel you knew is not me."
But how is Aziraphale supposed to believe that, when he can see him all the time?)
tl;dr --yes, this is better. I love the tragedy of it.
'Innocence died screaming' and all that.
Secret Santa part. 2
Here is my second secret Santa gift for @carnival-of-vanity !
Some lesbians!Ineffable romans
Can't believe it was my first time drawing Ineffable wives ?? What a shame, I need MORE
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thank you SO much zzurro, who reached out for a discord banner & icon commission of my vampire hunter crowley!!!
y'all know i haven't drawn gomens in a looong time, and i haven't taken illustration commissions in even longer, but getting free reign over this design def motivated me to have as much fun as i possibly could with it. and i had such a good timeee 🥺
i won't dive into anything too deep just yet, but know that i am thinking hard about adding illustration comms back to my vgen 💛
[ COMMISSIONS ] • [ MY VAMPIRE AU ]
Mammals both produce milk and have hair. Ergo, a coconut is a mammal.
Time flies; I realized that I’ve been in the GO fandom for almost 5 years now! Of course I could draw something sappy but instead I drew how my perception of Aziraphale & Crowley changed throughout the years :p
Well fucks? Get to it!
🏳️⚧️Happy Trans Day of Visibility 2025🏳️⚧️
I love you all, my trans beans 🩷
You are seen. You are loved. You will always be safe with me 🩷
Be proud of yourself. Be proud of your scars. They’re beautiful🩷🩵🤍