Ok my Bad Omens pals, so I'm planning my bullet journal for next year and I want to do my monthly themes based on a different bad omens song. I need some help coordinating a song with each month:
I already have February being TDOPOM
Love's the death of peace of mind
I'm thinking Burning Out (unplugged) for like September, or October- the music video having such autumnal vibes, Jolly in flannel🤤 bonfires.. burning.. Burning out
Go forth and discuss. 💜
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⚠️ FLASH WARNING FOR THE POST BELOW
“ᴀɴᴅ ɪ’ᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ᴋɪɴɢ.”
I wanted to go see bad omens during their Concrete Tour (especially since it starts in ATL which is my state) but like I didn’t have anyone who would go with me so I had to miss it 🥲 and I’ve been p sad about that and, in my own attempt to still celebrate the concert, I decided to just make this fun little gif between my classes for fun :’) learned very fast that I’m not a big fan of the blocking art style for myself lol 😭 just know that this is not my best work ok
but yeahh bad omens :)) they’ve become one of my favorite bands very fast :))
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AziraCrow | Book Reading
(Scroll down for mini story vvvv) + (Companion Piece)
Aziraphale liked books, especially the old ones. They were the main reason for owning his bookshop, after all.
He loved reading them, too. Sitting quietly in the back of his bookshop with a good book and the occasional accompaniment of an old record made for quite the delightful evening, in his opinion. Despite his being handless (and therefore, fingerless), Aziraphale was perfectly capable of turning pages on his own. Not with his talons of course; Heaven only knew the trouble that would come from attempting to turn the aging and potentially fragile paper with such unreliable instruments. It would be a simple enough fix if a page did happen to tear, but the memory would haunt him forever. Instead, all it took was a flick of his wing and woosh, the pages would turn themselves. Sometimes he just had to ask nicely. However, there were times that he didn't need to expend the effort.
Those times just so happened to coincide with a particularly serpentine visitor.
Crowley's visits were irregular and not always predictable. Most of the time he would pop in to complain about Who-Knows-What and disappear off to Who-Knows-Where. Sometimes he would stay longer, and they would share a glass of wine or some other alcohol, chatting a lot about nothing and reminiscing about times long passed until the shadows grew long. On rare occasions they would sit in comfortable silence, doing nothing more than enjoying each other's company. Aziraphale would then pick a book to read and Crowley would slither over to join him.
Of course, Crowley didn't like reading - or at least claimed he didn't. 'Not worth his time,' he'd say dismissively. Still, he (bored expression and all) would come, make himself comfortable by coiling around both the book stand and Aziraphale, and just watch. Just about anyone on Earth would likely be uncomfortable being stared down by such an intense gaze, but not Aziraphale. Over the many millennia, he has grown used to being observed by those golden eyes. Dare he say, he even found it comforting in a way, but that was besides the point.
He wasn't sure how it started; perhaps Crowley found himself overly bored that day, but he began turning the book pages whenever Aziraphale raised his wing to compel them instead. It had started him at first, and he had looked to Crowley with much confusion, though the demon had nothing to say in return. He merely shrugged (or at least it could be considered the serpentine equivalent of a shrug) and turned away. A few more pages in, and he'd turn them again. This happened over and over until Aziraphale heaved a sigh gave in, allowing the serpent to do as he wanted. At first, it was quite awkward to give verbal cues, and there were times when he became so engrossed in his reading that he forgot entirely, but eventually they settled into a comfortable rhythm. Nowadays he didn't even bother. It had become almost automatic: Aziraphale would finish the page and it would turn, no questions asked.
Aziraphale suspected it would baffle the minds of many to see a demon treat anything so gently, yet Crowley turned the pages in such a way that they were never bent nor crumpled. In fact, it seemed to him that the older the book was, the gentler Crowley'd be. He seemed... 'content' was the wrong word to describe his attitude towards the activity, but he never said a word otherwise. At least, not to Aziraphale.
He never pointed this out, of course. Crowley would stop doing it if he did, and he didn't WANT him to stop. He enjoyed it too much.
Once in a blue moon, Crowley would make a comment about whatever Aziraphale was reading at the time. It was often snide, mocking, not always audible. Hisses of exasperation or an exaggerated eye roll were not uncommon either. Then he would turn away, bored despondence washing over his face, shutting down any attempts to further the conversation. Not that he would respond if Aziraphale did, though that hadn't stopped him from trying. On one occasion Aziraphale had tried to push the topic, only for Crowley to deflect, insisting that he had only glanced the passage at random. He stopped turning the pages then. Aziraphale never tried again and settled with only giving him sidelong glances when he said something particularly egregious.
And so they would read, the silence broken only by the ticking of an old clock and the occasionally rustle of a page.
...
Aziraphale liked his books.
He liked reading them alone in his bookshop.
But he liked them best when Crowley was there to turn the pages for him.
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