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#yeah maybe aziraphale didn't drink in a couple of them
mizgnomer · 1 month
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Drinking Buddies Crowley and Aziraphale drinking together in Good Omens
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lovelybrooke · 8 days
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Hey, I’m hoping I can request a one shot where the couple from good omens had to take the reader in for the night because the parents had a last minute thing they needed to do and they didn’t have anyone else who could help them. Maybe what they would do all night and what the couple would take about in private.
Thanks!
Proof I Don't Hate You (Platonic Yandere Good Omens)
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Yeah sure, here you go. Also I literally can't remember if Aziraphale lived above his shop or not, so if I'm wrong let's just pretend.
I made this very Crowley focused so--sorry If that's not what you wanted.
Masterlist
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"A-Are you sure you're okay with this? We really don't want to bother you with anything, my sister can--" 
"Mrs! Please--it's no problem to me at all, I promise." You watch as Mr. Fell attempts to soothe your mothers worries. Your father has been sick for the past few days, and after waking up in the middle of the night with a fever of 105 degrees, you all knew it was best if he got to a hospital as soon as possible. Mr. Fell had given you his number in case of emergencies, so you were quick to message him about the whole ordeal. He responded almost immediately, assuring him that it was fine for you to stay in his home above the bookshop. 
For a moment you thought it was weird how quickly he responded, but your mother wasted no time shoveling you all into the car and driving as fast as legally possible towards the bookshop. Even while concerned over her husband, your mother was worried about bothering your boss. 
"You're positive?!" Your mother breathed a side of relief. "Thank you so much--hopefully we'll be back soon, early morning at the latest, I promise you." Mr. Fell looked barely disturbed, all smiles. Your mother sighed once more, giving you a kiss on the cheek. "Be good--please. I'll be back in the morning." 
You nod, whipping your cheek a bit as you watch her speed back towards the car. Hopefully your father was okay. 
"Sorry about all this Mr. Fell." You spoke lightly as he ushered you into the flat. It was very cozy, much like the shop below him. There were books everywhere, in the hallways even, littering the floors. He had many plants, most of which you knew had to be from Mr. Crowley, for a second it was sweet, before you remembered that it was Crowley. 
"There is no apologies needed, I'm glad to have you over." He sounded so, his voice sweet and comforting, making you nearly forget about the less than ideal situation. If it was anyone else, it would be awkward staying over at your boss's home, but he is too understanding, making all your worries melt away. 
You eventually make it to the living room of his flat, choosing to sit down on the couch as you watch his scurry around. He goes to where you assume the kitchen is, hearing the sound of dishes clanking and water pouring before he's back in the main room, handing you a drink and what you assume is left-over food. You thank him before taking a bite, savoring the meal. 
"I know it's late but I have games if you'd like to play one." You nod your head as you watch Mr. Fell pick up many different board games and show them to you. Most of them looked old and unopened, making you wonder if they were from a collection. You didn't have time to ask however "I also finally found those books you were asking for if you'd like to read those. I also--" You wonder how long he’d continue talking if something didn't stop him. 
"Angel I--what are they doing here?" You look over to see Crowley, glasses and all, a small plant tucked away in his side. You smiled slightly at the sigh, it was sweet, but apparently that just annoyed Crowley more as he sneered at the sight. 
Mr. Fell eyes wide only for a small second before responding. "(Y/n)--Crowley--is staying over while their father is in hospital, so be nice." His voice was more strained on the last part, which almost made you laugh. 
Crowley groaned as placed the plant down on the ground, near a few others. He messes with a few of their leaves, checking them over for a small moment before taking a seat of the chair across the couch, slouching as he stares you two down. "I'll try." His voice was just as strained as Mr. Fell's. 
That seemed like enough to satisfy Mr. Fell, him smiling as he clasps his hands together, a very different sight to his partner across from him. Sometimes, you wonder if you did something to make Crowley hate you. It must've just been you, since from day one he's seemingly wanted nothing to do with you. You don't think about it too much, it makes you feel weird whenever you do. You don't hate Crowley, in fact you like him a lot, but sometimes you wonder if it's your fault for reciprocating his negative behavior. 
You're broken out of your thoughts by the sound of Aziraphale gasping, standing up suddenly. "I almost forgot--you two wait here, I have another game somewhere..." his voice trails off and for the first time in the night, you're nervous. You like Crowley, but knowing he's observing you from behind those glasses of his filled you with dread. 
"Mr. Crowley, why do you like plants so much?" You don't know why you asked him, but it just felt right. He looked genuinely surprised by the question, shifting in his seat a bit while he mulled over the question. 
"...they're easy to take care of--for the most part if you know what you're doing." His snarky voice made you laugh, and for a moment you thought you saw Crowley smile--but it must've been your imagination. 
"Could you teach me--how to care for plants I mean." You ask. 
Crowley leans his shoulder on the arm of the seat, placing his chin on hand. He smirks at you, but there is less distaste in it, you can tell. "You sure you can handle it, plants are a lot of work, kid." 
"I can manage." 
"Mr. Fell over here seems to work you to death, you look tired, or is that how ya always look." 
You frown lightly. "I-I mean with school and everything...you're no better, always covering your face as well!" You poke and Crowley moves his hand to cover his mouth slightly, but you could see the smile bits of a smile. 
"I don't always cover my face--just when you're around." You scoff at the statement, crossing your arms. 
"Oh, just say you hate me already." You playfully groan. Crowley however doesn't take it that way. the playfulness, something so rare in the man, was all gone, replaced with a familiar cold expression. 
"Don't say that--I don't--I don't hate you." He says, his voice low. The smile on your face disappears and you're back to being nervous again. 
"--It was a joke." You nearly whisper, obviously started by the shift. 
"I know--It wasn't funny though." He almost sounded like he was whining, it was annoying. 
"You act like it though." Maybe you were stirring the pot, poking the beast, but you couldn't help it. Not when he was acting like some sort of victim, all because of a joke. "You constantly tease me at work, and you make fun of me when I get upset or defensive--" 
"That's different though." 
You wanted Mr. Fell to come back. 
"How is that different?' 
He was taking so long. 
"--because I don't hate you." 
Hasn't he heard all this? 
"Then why do you act like it?" 
Crowley remained silent, and the air remained still, until Mr. Fell returned. "I found the game!" He said excitedly, oblivious to what transpired. 
The night progressed like a blur, you played a few games, pretending as though nothing happened. You could tell something was wrong with Crowley. he was more stilted than normal, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. 
Eventually, you succumbed to sleep and was moved to the spare bedroom by Mr. Fell. He carefully shut the door before quickly moving back into the living room, Crowley sulking on the chair, his back facing him. He moved to stand in front of the demon, annoyance clear on his face. "Would you like to explain what happened?" 
Crowley shrugged. "You heard?" He asks, his voice uncharacteristically small. 
Aziraphale rolled his eyes. "I'm not deaf--of course it heard Crowley! What were you thinking?" Even while clearly angry, the angel attempted to keep his voice down so as to not wake you up. 
"Why would they think I hate them?" Crowley asked, almost in disbelief. "You know me angel--I hate a lot of things." Crowley stands up, almost distressed "but I don't hate them." He points towards the spare room. 
"I know that Crowley." Aziraphale pointed towards themself, emphasizing the I. "But do they?" He points out, and for a second it seemed as though Crowley understood. 
Emotions were confusing with Crowley. With Aziraphale he had a lot, lot more time to figure everything out, but that doesn't mean it wasn't confusing. He loves Aziraphale, that's clear as day, but he wasn't able to figure that out in a day, or a month, or a year, or a decade. It took centuries for him to say those words, but he doesn't get that grace for you. 
Your life is finite, a small speak in the endless sea of other humans they've met. At first he'd thought you'd be like the others, a human who lives, breathes, and then dies, someone he'd forget in a few years. But it was never that easy for Crowley, something always had to change. You managed to worm your way into Aziraphale's heart, and now, he wonders if you did the same to him. 
Crowley wonders for a while why you think he hates you, he looks back on his previous interactions with you in a mixture of embarrassment and disgust. His behavior was, less than favorable to say the least, and for once of his life, he wasn't proud of it. You are a kid, confused and complicated, and he surely wasn't helping. For the rest of that night, he was disappointed in himself. 
You went home early the next morning, you didn't say a word to Crowley. You were waiting for him to do something, you weren't going to fold. Call it stubborn, but you were tired of his behavior. 
So color you surprised when you showed up to work after school, seeing a small succulent on the table you place your stuff by often. For a moment, you thought it was for someone else, that this was just a coincidence, but a small note near the plant changed your mind. 
"(Y/n), Proof I don't hate you. --Crowley." On the back of the note were a few little notes on how to take care of the plan, all neatly written and easy to understand. 
You smile. 
You'd have to thank Crowley later.
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A/n: I don't know if this was what you wanted, but I hope you enjoyed.
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drconstellation · 6 months
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Inside the Dirty Donkey
**Warning! This meta contains spoilers and speculation for S3. Do NOT tag Neil!**
Time to get comfy, folks. Get your drink of choice, be it a cupperty, coffee, or nip of sherry, and find a seat. You’ll definitely want to be sitting down for this one. We’re going to the pub!
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The name is apparently a favorite of NG’s, used in his short story “We Can Get Them For You Wholesale.” And it also appears in the Sandman AU.
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In the short story above the protagonist is a jilted lover who tries to organize an assassin for his fiancé who is having an affair with another man at their shared workplace. He meets the ‘salesman’ of the firm he contacts at a pub called the Dirty Donkey, and it escalates from there. The story is freely available online, so you can search it up if you really want to read it, it won’t take long. It mentions a pale horse, which is usually what Death rides in on, and is appropriate in the context of that story.
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The question we need to ask is how does the name The Dirty Donkey apply to the Good Omens AU? Are there any context to the name at all?
There are several meanings for a dirty donkey:
Its a slang or joke name for a black horse (not particularly a dark horse, that has a different meaning altogether)
A cocktail
A sex position (I’ll let you look that one up yourself…)
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Probably the first thing we need to talk about, though is an actual donkey itself, in relation to Jesus, as S2 is full of Jesus references and hints to the Second Coming in S3. Yep, it was all there in front of us, but we were too focused on other things. If you remember your Bible teachings, Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, because he came in peace. In ancient times leaders rode horses if they went to war, or if they came in conquest. But arriving by donkey meant you came with peaceful intentions.
But Jesus didn't turn up in S2, you say. And certainly not on any hairy beast. Ah, but he did - metaphorically. Gabriel as Jim turned up - he came up the street, by (the Dirty) Donkey, walking through spilled blood tomatoes, then mentioned his arms were no longer sore (because he had been taken off the cross.) MrPeriod talks more about how Jim represents Jesus here, and it might be worth revisiting it at length another time, as there is quite a bit to unpack there.
There are also the two big golden lions perched on either end of the bar inside the pub, that look rather ominous. The lions are strongly connected to Jesus and his resurrection, representing his return. (I'm still planning to have a better look for more lions in both S1 and S2, but that is still a WIP at the moment.)
There is also the scene in 1941 where the Nazi zombies stagger into the Dirty Donkey and spy on Aziraphale and Crowley through the windows through to the book shop, but all they manage to get is “Banana, fish, gorilla, shoe lace with a dash of nutmeg.” It sounds a bit like a cocktail reference – well, the nutmeg is definitely a GO ref to a certain cocktail – but the cocktail called a Dirty Donkey has cinnamon in it, in the form of cinnamon schnapps, not nutmeg – plus chocolate liqueur and rum. So maybe not.
But perhaps the most important thing we have to examine is the conversation about Jane Austin that Aziraphale and Crowley have in the pub, in S2E2. Because its got so many levels you just about need a break for extra oxygen half way down. Ha! And you thought it was a couple of funny throw-away lines about how Aziraphale saw human romance...
OK, this is the section of dialogue we are going to look at:
AZIRAPHALE: If you're going to invoke fiction, you might as well do it properly. CROWLEY: Properly? AZIRAPHALE: You remember Jane Austen? CROWLEY: Yeah. I'm not gonna forget her in a hurry, am I? The brains behind the 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery. Brandy smuggler. Master spy. What a piece of work. AZIRAPHALE: She wrote books. Novels. CROWLEY: Jane? Austen? AZIRAPHALE: Yes! CROWLEY: Whoa, bit of a dark horse. Novels, eh? AZIRAPHALE: Yes. They were very good. CROWLEY: Well. No, I'm just surprised, that's all. You think you know someone. AZIRAPHALE: She had balls. CROWLEY: Well.... AZIRAPHALE: Cotillion balls. People would gather and do some formal dancing and then realize they had misunderstood each other and were actually deeply in love.
Ready to dive into the levels on the Jane Austen conversation? Let's go...
Level 1: It’s a conversation about the novelist Jane Austen, and it sounds like they both met her, but they remember her in different ways – and Crowley’s memory is rather surprising!
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Level 2: There is a mention of a robbery. This makes the parallel with the 1967 scene in S1E3 Hard Times, where Crowley has a secret meeting in the Dirty Donkey to plan a robbery to steal holy water from a church. The robbery in the above conversation involves diamonds (are you taking note/s? This is important!) from Clerkenwell, a district of London of some notoriety. It was famous for it watchmakers and jewelers, but it was also the home of Oliver Cromwell, who has a link to the 1650 date mentioned in S2E1 and the Eccles cakes, to Charles Dickens (author of A Tale of Two Cities, a book of note for GO) Oh, and both times Crowley is wearing a "Tactical Turtleneck", which others have noted he wears when he is doing his own master spy work, such planning or discussing robberies, or sneaking into Heaven to rob them of information!
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Level 3: There is Aziraphale’s idea about how a romance should be conducted, by hosting a cotillion ball with formal dancing, because he's read all those romantic novels by Austen. And we get to see that played out in S2E5 in the eldritch ball. Crowley's idea of a romance was to get caught in the rain and kiss, then - vavoom!
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Level 4: Why mention this apparently fictional side to an author of fictional romance? Well, on one hand, it’s an interesting but dark set-up for a joke later at the beginning of S2E6. I ended up discussing it at length here, but the short of it is that it is our usual human custom not to speak ill of the dead, and this is a form of extreme black-and-white thinking. Here, Aziraphale speaks of the good/white side of Jane Austen, that is well known, but Crowley speaks of the black/supposedly forgotten or unspoken bad side of Austen.
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Level 5: Here’s the S3 information. Have you been paying attention? Did you take note? The parallels were the robberies between a church, and diamonds? That she was a brandy smuggler? Do you know where they smuggled brandy from? And do you know where Austen actually lived? On the South Downs, overlooking the Channel to France…
Whew. I think I need a drink after that. Cheers!
[Edit: I've recently finished a meta on the Bentley and how that relates to black horses, and it's occurred to me why the ethereal lift, or "hellevator," is in the entrance to the Dirty Donkey. Black horses are symbolic spirit guides between the worlds of the living and the dead, so this makes the perfect place to put the lift!]
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littlewalken · 8 months
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Aug 31
To find where the shitty pictures of Sl*pkn*t moved to just look up their name with recent uploads. If I see any of y'all with your jumpsuits and masks over here I will get out one of those soap dispensers and put it on the hose, lol.
Moved all the band business over to it's own blog so when I get to uploading stuff by *rgy the bots hopefully don't come here.
And for those of you really wondering what it's like when rock stars come over to your house... Most have a 'holy shit you're not kidding' when they see the only place you can afford to rent and it helps keep the good people humble by reminding them of where they might have come from.
Sometimes they're just there for a little while hanging out while you politely stay out of the way and go about your business outside of offering non alcoholic drinks and snacks if you're the one adulting. Any music going on involves tuning and trying out a bass guitar that's going to be borrowed for awhile and maybe playing a few riffs at a reasonable sound level.
Or it's like 'photographer isn't here, what's your band's name, here's your photo CD.'
And the one time one of them came to Thanskgiving but he wasn't one of the tatooed crazy haired ones.
So yeah, movies and TV lie to you. One of the guys who visited had a song playing on the radio at the time, they still play it, and that we didn't give a shit and just new him as ___ probably helped.
And honest to Aziraphale I still don't listen to any of them. I couldn't even tell you if I've heard of any of them except radio guy because we always change the channel when that song comes on. Nothing against him or any of them, they're just autistic nightmares and a couple of them look like you can smell them thru the photos and if you tried to touch them they'd be sticky.
But all those kids with their big raccoon striped hair and neon color streaks and white dreads and giant pigtails full of crap were late to the aesthetic party. You all look like grown men who were mad at their hair in the early 2000s. Pretty sure they were men. None of the girls looked icky if you know what I mean.
With the bulk of the photo thing out of the way, the other blog posts will trickle in keep your jumpsuit on, I look forward to some sort of creative thing creeping in. Do have some writing I want to get to.
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kira-7 · 4 years
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This is my Good Omens Secret Santa, created by @mabsgatos, for @ineffablesociety, hope you like it! And good holidays!
Spooky Christmas
(aka This tree is on fire!, a new single release by Alek Keychains, this Christmas, on iToon)
Aziraphale doesn't hide a smile when, while he's reading Mr. Wordsworth's words, he can perceive a well known aura; without thinking about it, the angel starts a mental countdown... Three... Two...
"Angel!"
One. Still too fast. Oh well, Aziraphale raised up, puts the book upon the shelf and reaches the living room, where Crowley is waiting for him, hardly to contain the excitement about something.
"Hello, dear. Have you done something very evil today?"
Crowley nods and quickly approaches his angel, "You have no idea," he snaps his fingers to miracle a black jacket, a red hat and a grey scarf worn by Aziraphale, "Hurry, angel, or we'll be late!"
"What? But--Crowley, I'm in the middle of a declaration of love," the blond angel tries to protest, showing to the demon a book he was reading a few minutes ago.
"Y-yeah, so you juss-just... Do you want to remain here, while outside Evil Forces are spreading like snakes of shadow, surpassing the-- the... Urgh... The army of good, or what else you want to call it?!"
Aziraphale watches Crowley without worrying, he is relaxed and peaceful, "My dear," he starts, "We both know you don't want to hurt anyone, just because it isn't funny, according to what you said two years ago in that Manor, at Tadfield."
Crowley doesn't give up, he has another ace in the hole, he crawls near the chair and hisses tempter in the angel's ear,
"And if I sssay you I booked a table in that restaurant, the one you wanted to try, because it has the most delicious macarons in the world, will you come with me, angel?"
That malicious voice, and a dinner invitation, Crowley knows well how to use his skills, foul fiend... Aziraphale turns his head to look into Crowley's eyes, and unconsciously he holds his breath, "Anywhere you want, darling," the angel answers with a soft smile, causing a self-combustion to Crowley.
"Err-O-ngh-o-ok, right, yes... Well, must we go!"
The demon runs away a few meters from Aziraphale, and leads him to the Bentley, which radio spreads Freddie Mercury's voice who thanks God because it is Christmas.
When they arrive, the two creatures ahead to Trafalgar Square, Aziraphale follows Crowley, the demon seems sure of which direction to take, until they reach a white iron table, placed under a fir Christmas tree, its lights are off yet.
"Oh, this is for us?," Aziraphale asks, watching Crowley sits in one of the two chairs, then he sits too.
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"Only the best for you, angel," he smirks, "A front row seat for the best show of the century! Do you want a glass of wine?"
"A cup of cocoa it's--" the angel stops when a white cup of chocolate appears in front of him, "Thanks," he says with a lovely smile.
Crowley looks away while he's drinking his glass, then watches at his watch, impatient.
"What are we waiting for, darling?"
"Soon you'll see, it will begin in less of ten minutes."
The angel starts to drink, and is thrilled to see all couples sitting waiting for something, and probably the angel understands what it is.
"Did your evil plan consist in bringing me outside to see the lighting of the tree, of this tree above us?"
It is good to see Crowley running his hand through his hair to suppress his nervousness, the angel stretches his hand to hold the demon's, "I like it, thanks!"
The demon blushes, and he is going to start saying something, when a small choir of children begins to sing O Holy night, to demon's surprise. Someone proposed the mayor to call it, because God would have been glad to receive such a gift from pure creatures like children.
"The mayor listened my suggestion," Aziraphale says, looking emotionally at those lovely children, "They're wonderful, are they, sweetheart?"
Crowley doesn't pay attention at those children, he prefers to observe the profile of his angel, longing that smile for himself, looking at that tiny tear run along angel's cheek, "Ye, yea, nn--" he answers, resting the chin on a fist, "Beautiful."
Then Aziraphale turns to see Crowley and notices a little smile on his face and feels a bit nervous to be under that demonic gaze.
"Something's wrong?"
"Oh no, nothing, my dear, it's just... I... I feel cold actually."
Crowley raises an eyebrow, not convinced, "Should I miracle a more padded jacket?"
"No, I will be fine, really. Don't worry!"
An awkward silence rises between the two creatures, it's a bit odd, it didn't happen anymore after the Armageddon't, until in this moment; both of them find easy to speak and see each other every day, but they know, deep down, there is something they both prefer to not talk about, they know what are the other's feelings, of course they do, it would be silly if they hadn't made it... Both of them are afraid to put in words these feelings, and yet they feel the need to put them in words...
At the end of the song, the tree lights above them come on, coloring the two supernatural creatures' faces in red, blue, green and yellow, there are a lot of lights, maybe a million, and because of that Crowley smirks.
"Ah! He followed my idea! What a fool man! Totally."
"What? What did you said to tempt him, Crowley?"
The demon points to the tree and answers, "I simply told him that if he wanted to become the most famous mayor in the world, he should perhaps put some more light on the tree, nothing more."
"Oh my Lord," Aziraphale gasps, holding a breath, "This will not end well, I feel it!"
If the angels is worried, Crowley is laughing with so much pleasure, humans are always funny! In fact, ten minutes later, the too many lights start to overheat, until the tree catches fire, making everyone run away, screaming and afraid. Is there any casualties? Of course not, it would not been fun otherwise, by pure miracle everything was saved, except the poor tree that had been unfortunately chosen for that role. Oh well, it will be better next year.
Aziraphale and Crowley sit on a bench near Trafalgar Square, observing firemen while they are trying to suppress the flames; Aziraphale looks sad for that poor tree, it doesn't deserve an end like this.
"Oh, c'mon, angel, there are so many trees destroyed by humanity's madness, one more doesn't make the difference."
The angel nods sadly, a bit convinced by that discourse, "I guess you're right, but--" he decides to rest his head on Crowley's right shoulder, closings his eyes, "You don't need to create such a show for a date, a simple question is enough, I will answer always yes."
The demon is tense, not knowing how to behave, and with great difficulty he manages to hold the celestial creature close to him, while he mumbles a "Maybe you are right".
"Thank you for this, dear, it was funny."
Crowley gets the strength to press his lips on those blond hair, followed by his sharp cheekbone, looking in front of him.
"Spooky Holidays, angel."
"Happy Holidays, love."
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