do-it-with-style-events

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Join the Silver Screen Bang!

Sign-ups for the Silver Screen Bang are now open!

Sign-up Deadlines:

Writers May 3rd, 2024

Artists May 20th, 2024

Pinch Hitters Always Open!

You may sign up for multiple roles, but must submit a different form for each. We also require that all participants join the server—silent lurking is totally allowed if you prefer, but you must at least join. Hop over and introduce yourself here! (If link doesn't work, send us an Ask on Tumblr.)

Submissions are also open for writers until May 17! Select a movie and outline your adaptation plans. Further instructions are available on the server once you’ve joined.

Visit our Silver Screen Bang Info doc for more information (including rules, schedule and FAQ)!

#do it with style events #good omens #good omens fanfiction #good omens events #Good Omens fan art #silver screen bang #big bang #good omens bang

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Hi! I can’t join the discord, it tells me that the invitation link has expired. Thought it’d be test to warn you, so I can also join the event :) have a nice evening!

Hello, here's a link to the server that should work: https://discord.gg/eCcRCxwUmv

[do-it-with-style-events]

Goncharov, as an Oscar nominated film, is an acceptable film to use for this event.

This is a reminder that signups open on Friday!

Do It With Style Events Presents: The Silver Screen Bang!

Have you ever watched a movie only for your brain to say: "But make it Good Omens"? Well now's your chance!

The Good Omens Silver Screen Bang brings writers and artists together to retell a movie through a Good Omens lens!

Which of your favorite characters are having Breakfast at Tiffany’s? How is Beelzebub handling zir new Neighbor Totoro? How did 007 react to meeting Crowley, Anthony Crowley?

AUs, fusions, Good Omens characters just dropping into the story--any way you want to tell it is welcome here!

Writers, this is your chance to introduce the fandom to your favorite movie. And artists, you get to show us that classic scene burnt into our brains, but with our favorite supernatural beings.

How it works: Writers will pick a movie of any genre and submit a proposal on how they will retell the story of that movie with their favorite Good Omens characters. Artists will then choose their favorite proposals and create two (2) pieces of art for it: a movie poster and a scene from the fic.

Detailed schedule coming soon, but you can read the full Bang Information Doc here! Signups open April 19 for all creators!

Excited already? Join our Discord Server here!

#good omens #good omens bang #do it with style events #we are not joking #the artist half of the mod team went “claimed” #the writer half the mod team went “ooo maybe I should do Goncharov”

[do-it-with-style-events]

Don't forget! Signups open NEXT WEEK!

Do It With Style Events Presents: The Silver Screen Bang!

Have you ever watched a movie only for your brain to say: "But make it Good Omens"? Well now's your chance!

The Good Omens Silver Screen Bang brings writers and artists together to retell a movie through a Good Omens lens!

Which of your favorite characters are having Breakfast at Tiffany’s? How is Beelzebub handling zir new Neighbor Totoro? How did 007 react to meeting Crowley, Anthony Crowley?

AUs, fusions, Good Omens characters just dropping into the story--any way you want to tell it is welcome here!

Writers, this is your chance to introduce the fandom to your favorite movie. And artists, you get to show us that classic scene burnt into our brains, but with our favorite supernatural beings.

How it works: Writers will pick a movie of any genre and submit a proposal on how they will retell the story of that movie with their favorite Good Omens characters. Artists will then choose their favorite proposals and create two (2) pieces of art for it: a movie poster and a scene from the fic.

Detailed schedule coming soon, but you can read the full Bang Information Doc here! Signups open April 19 for all creators!

Excited already? Join our Discord Server here!

#do it with style events #good omens #coming soon #Good Omens Bang

[do-it-with-style-events]

Do It With Style Events Presents: The Silver Screen Bang!

Have you ever watched a movie only for your brain to say: "But make it Good Omens"? Well now's your chance!

The Good Omens Silver Screen Bang brings writers and artists together to retell a movie through a Good Omens lens!

Which of your favorite characters are having Breakfast at Tiffany’s? How is Beelzebub handling zir new Neighbor Totoro? How did 007 react to meeting Crowley, Anthony Crowley?

AUs, fusions, Good Omens characters just dropping into the story--any way you want to tell it is welcome here!

Writers, this is your chance to introduce the fandom to your favorite movie. And artists, you get to show us that classic scene burnt into our brains, but with our favorite supernatural beings.

How it works: Writers will pick a movie of any genre and submit a proposal on how they will retell the story of that movie with their favorite Good Omens characters. Artists will then choose their favorite proposals and create two (2) pieces of art for it: a movie poster and a scene from the fic.

Detailed schedule coming soon, but you can read the full Bang Information Doc here! Signups open April 19 for all creators!

Excited already? Join our Discord Server here!

#do it with style events #good omens #coming soon #Good Omens Bang

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🍿📽🎞

Coming soon to a fandom near you!

#do it with style events #good omens #diws #good omens events #coming soon

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Big announcement coming April 2024! Grab your seats and get ready! 🍿

#do it with style events #good omens #coming soon #diws

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#do it with style events #do it with style #coming soon

[do-it-with-style-events]

Highway to Pail Day 26

[Day 1] [Prev] [Next] @do-it-with-style-events

February 26: Local museum has a new dinosaur exhibit. Don't know if it'll be popular. Remains to be seen.

Crowley thought he might as well go see the thing, since he was getting a commendation for it. He had no idea why—he saw the note saying one of his temptations was paying off in a big way with a quote direct from one of his memos, but he couldn't figure out what it was for the life of him. But hey, a commendation was a commendation.

It was just: He stayed away from the bone stuff, as a general rule. He thought it was, he didn't know, unsportsmanlike, or something. A cruel joke. Plus, he just didn't like misleading natural scientists; he liked them too much.

The Times had said the bones were a "diplodocus" from Wyoming in America, with a helpful map showing that Wyoming was both very far inland and much larger than Great Britain. Apparently they'd been discovered by a bloke named William Harlow Reed and gifted by a Scottish immigrant to America called Andrew Carnegie to the King. He'd checked and double-checked his memory for Reed and Carnegie's names, or references to America, or to the bones: nothing. The only thing that came close was an assignment he'd passed off to Aziraphale for some stuffed shirt at Yale, tempt him into some academic intrigue. He had a weird name though, like Orpheus Bog or something, not William. It couldn't be the philanthropist, because he hadn't gotten credit for capitalism: It had kind of invented itself, and by the time it was obvious it was sticking around, it was too late to file the paperwork.* It definitely wasn't the king, because Bertie had a soul like vulcanised fucking rubber. No matter how many mistresses he took or how much money he gambled, the sin bounced right off him. If Crowley didn't know better, he'd suspect God of playing favorites.**

So off Crowley went to see Dippy the Diplodocus.

It was a great big beastie, taking up the entire new Reptile Room, tail sweeping across the ground. The bones they'd found really did seem to fit together more or less the way they'd been arranged, although Crowley hadn't been involved in the biology project really. The humans' explanations were immensely convincing, grounded in the physical laws they'd discovered so far. If Crowley hadn't been an eye-witness to Earth's baptism and Time being turned on six millennia before, he'd fully believe what they were saying about these great lizards.

Like he said: he didn't like getting involved in the bone stuff.

As he looked around at the crowds gathered to marvel at Dippy, he didn't see anything worth their HQs getting worked up about. There wasn't much sacrilegious, there wasn't much holy. Although if he were here, Aziraphale would argue with that, say that there was always sanctity to be found in the wonder of the Lord's Creation. That wasn't a company line, either; Heaven didn't go in for that puff. It was something the daft bastard really believed.

Crowley missed him horribly.

He took another loop around the hall, wondering at all the human creativity and scientific inquiry and plain hard labor that went into these plasters of a mean-spirited Divine prank. Wondering how they'd already been setting up the humans long before splitting up into two camps. He wondered whether the angels who'd put the bones in the ground were in Heaven or in Hell. Or if some of them were in both.

To be honest: He really thought that there were some in both. The first Heaven-Hell collaboration, long before he and Aziraphale took the plunge on their Arrangement.

And he still had no idea what that commendation was actually about.

--

*Aziraphale had worked quite hard at the invention of philanthropy, once capitalism had become obvious even to the most introverted of angels. Heaven hadn't given him any credit for it, at least as far as Crowley knew. He and Aziraphale weren't really speaking.

**However, Crowley did know better. God's favorites usually got prolonged bouts of suffering and grisly, horrific deaths, not women and wine and kingdoms.

--

Author's note: I had to write this twice because Tumblr LOST MY DRAFT that I wrote on the bus. 😭😭😭😭

Quick note on King Edward the Whateverth, known as Bertie: I don't actually have the first clue about whether or not he was like, a good person or whatever. I just thought of jokes I wanted to tell and he was a well-known 1) adulterer and gambler and 2) affable good-natured friendly guy. This sounds close enough to someone who could be "vulcanised fucking rubber" that I went for it.

SO: Dippy!!!!!!! I couldn't not talk about Dippy! I fucking love Diplodocus, okay, it's one of my all-time fave dinos, and Dippy is The Diplodocus, like Sue is The T-Rex and Aziraphale is The Southern Pansy. The species Diplodocus carnegii was described by Othniel Marsh, who I had Aziraphale tempt in Bonus #1. The basic story of the bones is as I described above. Dippy's a composite skeleton, made up of at least six individuals. In 2015 or so, scientists studying it discovered that most of the skull was actually a Galeamopus and some of the toes and stuff were actually Camarasaurus, but Dippy is still remarkably accurate for a composite discovered and assembled in the 1890s.

Original Dippy still resides in the Carnegie Museum of Natural History in Pittsburg, which is one of my bucket list trips. He was cast in plaster and those casts gifted to natural history museums around the world, including the British Museum. Londoners will now be yelling at their computer screens, but listen: the Natural History Museum didn't separate from the rest of the BM until 1989. Aziraphale probably still calls it British Museum (National History), including pronouncing the parenthesis somehow. Dippy (London) stood from 1905 until 2017, except during WW2 when it was packed into boxes and stored in the basement so it didn't get Blitz'd. It toured the UK for a while and now stands in a museum in Coventry.

The Diplodocus that is in the Smithsonian Museum of Natural History in Washington DC isn't a Dippy, btw. It's a Diplodocus hallorum, which is even bigger.

And here are some pics of Dippy (London) from Wikipedia:

1905

1922

2018, while it was on tour, National Museum Cardiff, Wales.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #do it with style events #highway to pail #prompt event

[do-it-with-style-events]

Highway to Pail Day 28

[Day 1] [Prev] [Next] @do-it-with-style-events

February 28: Shellfie.

Moving to the South Downs wasn't a permanent change—for beings as old as they were, nothing like this could be—but it went along with the real permanent change: that Aziraphale and Crowley could be together publicly, loudly, and nobody in Heaven or Hell could take it away from them or stop them. Aziraphale wouldn't Fall, neither of them would be tortured or punished or killed. They didn't have to duck around anymore, meeting in plausibly deniable ways. Crowley didn't have to leave the bookshop through the back in the dead of night so he could be seen emerging from his flat in the morning. Aziraphale didn't have to meticulously track every miracle he performed in the hopes of not exceeding his budget. They could hold hands.

Being allowed to touch, in public, was utterly intoxicating to them both.

And touch they did. Not just holding hands: Aziraphale was allowing his hair to grow, no longer required to keep it regulation-short, and Crowley fussed over it constantly, tying and untying and brushing and straightening and brushing flyaways into place; Aziraphale fixed Crowley's collar and cuffs, straightened his ties and scarves and pins. They walked arm-in-arm, like was once fashionable, or with arms around shoulders and waists, or hands resting on lower backs. When they talked they leaned in, hands on forearms, cheeks brushing.

They both smiled more, and more genuinely, truly and perfectly happy like neither of them had been since their creations; even more so, really, for all the years of experience behind them and for the pleasure of each other's love and company.

On a bright sunny spring day, Crowley suggested they go to down to the coast, and Aziraphale smiled and packed a picnic, and off they went.

The Bentley blasting You're My Best Friend on a loop the whole way (which irritated Aziraphale much more than Crowley, who was used to it), they headed straight down to Selsey to look out over the channel and get their toes wet. Aziraphale had changed into an old swimming costume, cream and powder blue alternating stripes ending at the elbows and knees, which he'd probably had since old Bertie had crowned at least; Crowley remained in his regular miracled suit, and intended to simply snap into a speedo if they went swimming.

Aziraphale's hand rested just above Crowley's knee the entire way, except when Crowley took sharp turns at a hundred miles per hour, when it did not rest so much as desperately cling for dear life.

The beach was deserted despite the sunshine, still too chilly to draw in human crowds. Aziraphale and Crowley walked along the coast hand-in-hand, looking out over the sea toward the Isle of Wight, the conversation meandering from the mechanics of plate tectonics (which neither of them understood) to a dinner party they once attended with Plato, from a confused discussion of Wales and whales to the plot of a Doctor Who episode Aziraphale had watched in 2007. This led Crowley to recount a blessing he'd done while stateside with the Dowlings, which reminded Aziraphale of a temptation he'd done in Czechoslovakia in 1983, which reminded Crowley of selfies. Crowley'd had a hand in selfies, tempting a young photographers to a bit of vanity, and it had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams.

His phone was in his hands before he could finish his thought. He interrupted Aziraphale recounting the svíčková he'd had at a bistro in Prague with a command to "Smile, angel!" This earned him a confused look, Aziraphale turning to ask him why, blurrily captured with the tap of a button and a recorded sound effect of a shutter click.

"Whatever are you doing, Crowley?" Aziraphale asked crossly, irritated at the interruption, and Crowley showed him the screen.

The blurry photograph was a nightmare of composition, but Aziraphale immediately loved it more than any in the world, save one. Crowley was smiling, his eyes crinkled at the edge of his sunglasses, one arm visibly extended to hold the phone and the other intertwined with Aziraphale's, Aziraphale clearly beginning to face him. The first photograph of them had been taken at a moment of temporary relief, taken by an enemy and intended to be used against them. The second was pure freedom, pure happiness, taken by Crowley himself, simply because he'd wanted to.

"Oh," Aziraphale said, voice shaky.

"Yeah," was Crowley's equally shaky reply.

"My dear Crowley, you must print this out when we return to the cottage."

"I—Angel, this isn't the only one this phone can take, we can have a better—"

"I certainly hope we will, my dear Crowley," Aziraphale said softly. "And I want to print this one."

They looked at the phone, and then at each other, and smiled.

"Yeah. We'll print it."

Aziraphale had it framed. It hung as a set with an old photograph from the Second World War in their library, above a yellow Georgian chaise that held a mismatched throw blanket and cushion, one in red-and-black tartan and the other patterned with cream and blue snakes.

--

Author's note: This is what came up when I googled "czech food" and HOLY MACARONI IT SOUNDS DELICIOUS. I will be looking for a Czech restaurant that serves svíčková in my area stat.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #do it with style events #highway to pail #prompt event

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Highway to Pail Day 29

[Day 1] [Prev] @do-it-with-style-events

February 29: Best way to kiss someone at the end of the world is on the apocalypse.

The night he spent in Crowley's flat was hardly cinematic. They were both exhausted and terrified, desperately trying to decode Agnes Nutter's final prophecy. Ash, the last remains of the Bentley, still smudged Crowley's clothes and skin and hair, making him smell of Hellfire. Adam may have saved the world, but their bosses would be coming after them for punishment very, very soon.

Crowley did still give Aziraphale a tour, vaguely waving in the direction of various rooms in his barebones concrete lair ("It's minimalism, angel, latest thing in interior design"), and so Aziraphale did still see things like Crowley's plants and Crowley's bed and the lectern from St. Dunstan and a statue that, upon Aziraphale's inquiry, caused Crowley to turn scarlet and change the subject.

So no, at the apocalypse, they did not kiss, nor did they immediately following, nor did they even after leaving the Ritz after having survived their executions. But like Crowley, Aziraphale had cultivated something that most angels did not possess in abundance: an imagination.

And his imagination suddenly had brand-new details on which to gorge itself, and unlimited time, and a complete lack of Crowley, who had gone to sleep rather than suggesting he evade the human authorities by coming down the phone line.

Aziraphale stared unblinkingly and uncomprehendingly at page 87 of Band Sinister, his brain exiting the narrative to wander off and create its own. The Regency had been such a good time for them. They had met so often, growing complacent, thinking their bosses really weren't watching beyond occasional visits through official portals. The high-waisted, tight-fitting fashions had suited Crowley particularly well, emphasizing his long legs and sharp features. He hadn't let the flat in Mayfair until the early 1970s, but Aziraphale's fantasy didn't let that get in the way. The Crowley of his mind lead Aziraphale into the modern flat and took his hat and coat, tossing them aside onto his uncomfortably blockish sofa, and snapped himself into the more modern clothes he wore the night of the Apocalypse after Aziraphale had persuaded him to clean up, a soft-looking t-shirt and silky hotpants.

Crowley's eyes were uncovered in Aziraphale's fantasy, yellow overtaking the sclera. He led Aziraphale down the hall, a hot hand on the small of Aziraphale's back, yet somehow making unblinking eye contact until they reached the end of the hall. Next to the statue Crowley owned of a demon fucking an angel, Crowley pressed Aziraphale into the wall, clutching his collar as he had so many times before, and brought their faces together—and as Crowley never had in their long, long lives, in the fantasy, Crowley leaned in an extra half-inch and kissed him.

Aziraphale had seen many kisses, read descriptions of many more. He had kissed when it was customary among humans, but only brief, light pecks to cheeks or closed lips; very different from the kind of kissing he yearned for from Crowley. He thought of what it would be like to move their mouths against each other; he wondered how the mechanics of tongues would work, and wondered further if Crowley's would fork like it sometimes did when he forgot himself. He hoped that it would, that Crowley would forget himself entirely.

He imagined that, pressing him against the wall, Crowley would get carried away, rocking against Aziraphale like waves against the shore, urgent and needy and carrying the shore back away with it again. Aziraphale would be the one to suggest the bed, to suggest disrobing, and Crowley would lead him onto his silk sheets and California king naked as the day he was created. Their wings would be out, Aziraphale thought. The very wings that had once shielded him at the birth of stars would be there for him to caress. All of Crowley would be on a single plane of existence, there for him to touch.

The phone rang, which was rather out of place in this particular daydream, and Aziraphale shook out of it. The Bakelite impatiently rung again, apparently having been going for longer than it was used to Aziraphale dithering, and he hastened to answer.

"A. Z. Fell and Co, Fell speaking."

"Hey angel. I know it's not quite July yet, but I guess even I can only sleep for so long."

"Crowley! I was just thinking about you, you know."

"All bad things, I hope?"

"Tish-tosh. How was your nap?"

The fantasy was nice, of course. But it didn't hold a candle to even a fraction of the real thing.

--

Author's note: Probably the last one; I've got a lot to do this weekend so the bonus prompts aren't likely to happen. So I thought we'd go out with a bang!

It's not a "night in Crowley's flat" fic but it's in the same neighborhood, I hope?

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #do it with style events #highway to pail #prompt event

[do-it-with-style-events]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Post-Scene: St James’s Park 1862 (Good Omens), Artist Aziraphale (Good Omens), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Aziraphale in Denial (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Pining Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Outer Space (Good Omens) Series: Part 29 of do it with style presents - highway to pail Summary:

Peace is destined to be broken, is it not?

The door to Aziraphale’s bookshop is flung open, and just as he’s turning to announce that they are, in fact, quite closed, he comes face-to-face with the drawing of the meteors that he did for last month’s periodical. It’s a miracle that he can even recognize them, Aziraphale thinks to himself, considering how close the page is being shoved to his nose.

“Get out of my periodical, angel,” seethes Crowley.

***

After their argument at St. James’ Park leaves Aziraphale feeling the need for something new in his life, he decides to take some art classes. They lead to a job with some rather unexpected consequences.

Written for day 29 of @do-it-with-style-events Highway to Pail!

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #do it with style events #highway to pail #prompt event

[do-it-with-style-events]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Anathema Device, Aziraphale & Maggie (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Anathema Device, Maggie (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Mentioned Gabriel (Good Omens), Mentioned Muriel (Good Omens), Mentioned Beelzebub (Good Omens), Curious Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale in Denial (Good Omens), Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Crowley & Anathema Device Friendship, Merperson Crowley (Good Omens), Pre-Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Series: Part 28 of do it with style presents - highway to pail Summary:

“You shouldn’t go,” says Anathema, “you don’t need Agnes to tell you that.”

“I mean,” says Crowley, wrinkling his nose, “don’t I? Come on, don’t tell me you’re not curious. We can only ever see it from a distance, and there’s already so much there. Just… makes you wonder, doesn’t it? How much more there is inland? And yeah, I probably won’t ever be able to see that, but… could see more. Could talk to one of them. I just - I don’t really see what’s so wrong about that.”

***

Crowley is merperson, curious about the land. Aziraphale is a marine biologist, longing for the sea.

A teaser for a fic coming soon to a Mermay near you.

Written for day 28 of @do-it-with-style-events Highway to Pail!

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #do it with style events #highway to pail #prompt event

[do-it-with-style-events]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Bookshop Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Snake Crowley (Good Omens), Pre-Good Omens (TV) Season 2, Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale’s Bookshop (Good Omens), Amused Crowley (Good Omens), One Shot, Fluff and Humor Series: Part 27 of do it with style presents - highway to pail Summary:

The customer slowly relaxes, arms falling back to his sides, shoulders moving to their usual position. As he does so, he also starts moving closer to Crowley, who narrows his eyes at the human’s hand, moving independently closer, but allows it.

“Say… is the snake used to being handled?” asks the human.

***

A customer comes into Aziraphale’s shop, and finds Crowley dozing in snake-form along the shelves. He takes more of an interest in the snake than anyone expected.

Written for day 27 of @do-it-with-style-events Highway to Pail!

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #do it with style events #highway to pail #prompt event

[do-it-with-style-events]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) Additional Tags: The Ineffable Plan (Good Omens), The Dowling Years (Good Omens), Museums, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), Soft Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff and Humor, Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens) Series: Part 26 of do it with style presents - highway to pail Summary:

“I don’t get it,” Crowley finally says.

Aziraphale sighs, and he shakes his head. “I’m afraid I don’t, either. But that might very well be the point, might it not? It’s ineffable.”

“Ineffable? The joke’s ineffable? How the Heaven does that work? Not very funny a joke, is it, if no one can understand it? Hardly fair on the humans, either, sitting around thinking these creatures lived on their planet… well before it even existed, really. How’s that supposed to be funny?”

***

Aziraphale and Crowley visit the Natural History Museum, and contemplate the Ineffable Plan.

Written for day 26 of @do-it-with-style-events Highway to Pail!

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #do it with style events #highway to pail #prompt event

[do-it-with-style-events]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Nina (Good Omens), Lindsay/Nina (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Nina (Good Omens), Maggie (Good Omens), Lindsay (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death (Good Omens), Oblivious Aziraphale and Crowley (Good Omens), Pre-Good Omens (TV) Season 2, POV Outsider, Food-Lover Aziraphale (Good Omens), Bookshop Snake Crowley (Good Omens), One Shot, Deleted Scene: Aziraphale’s Bookshop 1800 (Good Omens) Series: Part 25 of do it with style presents - highway to pail Summary:

The opening day of the coffee shop brings with it a banner and a handful of special offers, but nothing more. People trickle in, and they trickle out - it’s encouraging without being overwhelming, a very decent first day. Nina talks to a few people, starts to get a feeling for who some of the regulars are likely to be, but nothing too exciting happens. It’s just as she was hoping it would be.

Right up to the moment, a few hours after lunchtime, when two people start to approach from across the road.

***

It’s Nina’s opening day. Some of her first customers are a certain angel and a certain demon.

Written for day 25 of @do-it-with-style-events Highway to Pail!

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #do it with style events #highway to pail #prompt event

[do-it-with-style-events]

Highway to Pail Day 25

[Day 1] [Prev] [Next] @do-it-with-style-events

February 25: I'm not sure about the new cafe. It fills me with uncertain tea.

It wasn't clear whether it was a divine intervention, a diabolical temptation, or just plain neighborly advice when Aziraphale suggested that it might be time for Henry Simons and his husband to retire from the coffee business during lockdown.

"Really my dear," he'd said, "you've earned it, and I won't hear of you putting yourself or Pat in any danger, not with everything you went through with the cancer treatments." He'd made Henry promise to look at listings and a little cottage by the sea had miraculously come up with all the amenities he could want and for significantly less than he had saved to be able to pay for it, and miraculously the owner had no other offers.

Part of Henry Simon's process of retirement that Aziraphale hadn't thought through was that it would change hands. He'd grown comfortable with Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death over the last twenty-five years. Henry always greeted him as he walked in at 11:15 each morning, brewed their tea for four-and-a-half minutes exactly and put in a dash of milk for himself and one cube of sugar for Aziraphale, sat down for a cuppa and a chat. He'd handed the business off to his off-days manager Nina to run for real. "She's a tough nut, is Nina," Henry said during one of their last chats before the move, voice tinny through Aziraphale's Bakelite. "Probably has another twenty years in the shop herself, at least. I'd be surprised if she ever does retire."

He watched through their windows as Nina redecorated the shop over the rest of lockdown and smelled fresh spray-paint in the air on his daily constitutionals. She spent long days in the shop fussing over her equipment and her laptop, sometimes bringing tall stacks of paper to organize across a pair of pushed-together tables. A stranger sometimes appears there with her, often with their feet up on a table and poking at their cellular telephone. They remind him of Crowley, except for the pinched expression on Nina's face sometimes when addressed by them.

Aziraphale would miss Henry and Pat, but he always missed his human friends when they left him, and they were leaving him happy and healthy. Not all of his friends had been so lucky, and he was one to count his blessings, as it were. He was increasingly interested in what Nina's new "hip," as Crowley would shudder to hear him say, atmosphere would be like, and what changes she might make to the menu and operations to bring it "up to date." She was hardly a child—Aziraphale guessed she must be in her mid-40s at absolute youngest—but she clearly was bringing a new energy to Aziraphale's carefully curated block of Soho.

When Give Me Coffee Or Give Me Death reopened, he went over at 11:15 on the dot.

The inside was an explosion of color. Henry and Pat had kept it cozy and staid, but Nina's take was modern and lavish, with graffiti-like art covering the walls and floors, contrasted with plain steel-and-wood furniture. Young people in jeans and sharp jackets took pictures of their lattes, ordered from a menu hand-written neatly in chalk; little numbers on placards sat on tables, a young lady running back and forth with cups and plates to deliver them to sitting customers.

By the time he made it up to the front, Nina seemed tired but focused, the bustle of the day unrelenting but energizing, or so Aziraphale imagined. He'd hardly opened his mouth to greet her before she said, rather quickly, "Nice to see you, Mr Fell. Cup of earl grey, one sugar, plate of biscuits?"

Aziraphale paused for a moment. "Quite right. I'm impressed you remembered after all these months."

Nina smiled, something rather rare on her face and precious for it. "I remember all the regulars, Mr Fell, and you're a tough one to forget. I'll put it on the bookshop tab?"

"Er, yes, quite." Aziraphale wasn't entirely sure how he'd been paying for his tea for all these years, actually. It didn't seem to much matter. If the bookshop had a tab, it would continue to find itself paid off. "The redecoration is really something, you know. I'll have to bring Crowley around; he'll love it."

"Looking forward to it, Mr Fell," Nina said, giving him a placard. "Rhi will be out with your tea in just a tick, alright? I think your usual table's open if you can snag it."

Rhi was out with his tea. It wasn't quite how Henry had done it, a slightly different blend steeped about ten degrees hotter for about twenty seconds longer. That was for the best, Aziraphale thought. Nina's version of Give Me Coffee was promising to be a wonderful evolution for Whickber Street.

#good omens #good omens fanfiction #do it with style events #highway to pail #prompt event