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Good things come to those who wait, or so everyone says. That is doubly true in the streaming era, where years passing between seasons of popular shows isn’t just commonplace but now an unfortunate norm. If we’re honest, Good Omens fans have been suffering more than most. It’s pushing three years since season two aired in the summer of 2023. The finale episode finally allowed its long-pining leads to kiss, only to break them up in heartbreaking fashion mere seconds later. The angel Aziraphale (Michael Sheen) chose to return to Heaven, leaving his demon soulmate Crowley (David Tennant) behind on Earth and subsequently emotionally destroying viewers. And until recently, the show and its fandom were stuck in an increasingly frustrating limbo, waiting for a happy ending that felt like it might never come.
Season two’s ending was a shocking plot twist that went firmly against the tone of the episodes that came before it, which were sweet, gentle, and deeply romantic. Absolutely no one had “surprise, everyone ends up in tears” on their Good Omens bingo card. To add anxiety to angst, the second season cliffhanger arrived with the show’s larger fate still uncertain. In fact, a renewal announcement wouldn’t arrive for nearly six months.
But that wasn’t the end of a string of increasingly cursed events surrounding the series’ conclusion. Good Omens was originally meant to end with a six-episode third season. But following the multiple allegations of sexual misconduct against Neil Gaiman, the series’ showrunner and one-half of the pair who wrote the book the series is based on, things were looking pretty bleak indeed. Gaiman has repeatedly denied the claims, but several of his other projects were outright buried or canceled in the wake of the news. Production on Good Omens’ final season was paused, and for a good long while, it seemed all too likely that such a bleak fate might be in its future, too.
But the Ineffable Plan moves in mysterious ways. Gaiman stepped down from the production, and Prime Video ultimately pulled something of a King Solomon on the whole situation, giving the series a 90-minute feature-length episode to wrap things up. Is this special likely to be everything that fans and folks involved with the show wanted? Of course not. But the fact that we’re getting an ending at all feels fairly miraculous in the face of everything else. That is, of course, Good Omens’s entire brand. Few stories deserve the chance to end on their own terms as much as this one does. And even fewer onscreen relationships—particularly queer ones—that deserve the happily ever after that’s surely headed their way.
It was a long and winding road to bring this story to live-action. The original novel, co-written by Gaiman and the late, great Sir Terry Pratchett, was published in 1990, becoming a cult hit among nerds everywhere. However, it did not quite break into the mainstream the way fans desired at the time. A feature film adaptation from Terry Gilliam never off the ground in the 1990s, and we had to wait until the 2019 TV series to see Aziraphale and Crowley on our screens.
That the show was successful enough to spawn a second season was remarkable given that the original effort exhausted the source material. Now, the fact that we’re not only getting a third installment that will explore what the authors wanted the original ending to be for a sequel years ago is quite the gift. What I am saying is: All of this didn’t happen for us not to get a happy ending when it counts. But, more importantly, ending Good Omens with anything other than a fully joyous embrace of love in all its forms would be to spit in the face of the message the entire franchise is based on.
Technically, Good Omens is the story of a fussy angel (Aziraphale) and a caustic demon (Crowley) sent to Earth to guard and/or tempt the human population. They ultimately join forces to thwart the Apocalypse and save the world they’ve both come to consider home. But, at its heart, Good Omens is—and always has been—a love story. It is built of many themes and parts. There’s love between two celestial beings and the world they’ve made their home, between a group of teen best friends, between a witch and a witchhunter, between God and all the creation She has made. And, yes, between an angel and a demon who’ve spent the better part of six millennia entangled with (and pining for) one another.
That Crowley and Aziraphale love one another has always been apparent. Fans have been rooting for this crazy odd couple to become canon pretty much since the book’s publication date. And the Prime Video series has fully leaned into the idea in a way an early 1990s fantasy novel simply couldn’t. It replaced the original text’s winks and nudges toward the true nature of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship with an open acknowledgement of how much they mean to each other. It also doesn’t hurt that co-stars Michael Sheen and David Tennant share the sort of lightning-in-a-bottle chemistry that’s the stuff of legend, infusing each scene with the quiet, lived-in affection that speaks of literal centuries of connection. There are longing glances, quiet gifts, co-dependent ticks, shared property rights, dramatic rescues, and even Regency-style dancing.
The show is the purest of rom-coms, built of familiar tropes, references, and plot beats that reinforce not just the arc that Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship is so clearly following, but the larger mission statement of the entire series. In this world, love is a radical act. It is meant to change us, to reforge us, to leave us better than we were before. It is the means by which not only we grow, but also by which we change the world around us. It is the greatest gift that God has given to us, and the greatest gift we can give to each other. It is, after all, love that saves the world in the end.
On almost any other show, this kind of storytelling would feel deeply cringe, like the sort of pedantic moralizing that turns off non-believers, casual viewers, and people of faith alike. But Good Omens is so heartfelt, so completely uncynical in its optimistic view of creation, that it’s almost impossible not to be affected by it. We want to believe in the world it models for us, where hereditary enemies can fall in love, forgiveness is always possible, and faith is a promise that comes to pass in its own time.
It’s glaringly apparent at the end of the Season 2 finale that Crowley and Aziraphale’s story is unfinished. It is the sort of third-act break-up that traditionally forces its protagonists to face deep-seated fears and flaws before coming back together stronger and more certain of one another than before. With the final season’s now-reduced runtime, it’s very likely that Good Omens won’t be able to do much with several of its larger plots as we might like. But that’s okay! It’s not like any of that is what we’ll be tuning in for anyway. Is it a nice bonus? Sure.
However, we’re all really here for something bigger, a reminder that light can still shine in the darkness of dire circumstances—both real and fictional—and love can, and will, still conquer all. Crowley and Aziraphale belong together, and we deserve to see them realize that dream… with a little cottage in the South Downs on the side.
The post Aziraphale and Crowley Deserve Their GOOD OMENS Happy Ending appeared first on Nerdist.
Good things come to those who wait, or so everyone says. That is doubly true in the streaming era, where years passing between seasons of popular shows isn’t just commonplace but now an unfortunate norm. If we’re honest, Good Omens fans have been suffering more than most. It’s pushing three years since season two aired in the summer of 2023. The finale episode finally allowed its long-pining leads to kiss, only to break them up in heartbreaking fashion mere seconds later. The angel Aziraphale (Michael Sheen) chose to return to Heaven, leaving his demon soulmate Crowley (David Tennant) behind on Earth and subsequently emotionally destroying viewers. And until recently, the show and its fandom were stuck in an increasingly frustrating limbo, waiting for a happy ending that felt like it might never come.
Season two’s ending was a shocking plot twist that went firmly against the tone of the episodes that came before it, which were sweet, gentle, and deeply romantic. Absolutely no one had “surprise, everyone ends up in tears” on their Good Omens bingo card. To add anxiety to angst, the second season cliffhanger arrived with the show’s larger fate still uncertain. In fact, a renewal announcement wouldn’t arrive for nearly six months.
But that wasn’t the end of a string of increasingly cursed events surrounding the series’ conclusion. Good Omens was originally meant to end with a six-episode third season. But following the multiple allegations of sexual misconduct against Neil Gaiman, the series’ showrunner and one-half of the pair who wrote the book the series is based on, things were looking pretty bleak indeed. Gaiman has repeatedly denied the claims, but several of his other projects were outright buried or canceled in the wake of the news. Production on Good Omens’ final season was paused, and for a good long while, it seemed all too likely that such a bleak fate might be in its future, too.
But the Ineffable Plan moves in mysterious ways. Gaiman stepped down from the production, and Prime Video ultimately pulled something of a King Solomon on the whole situation, giving the series a 90-minute feature-length episode to wrap things up. Is this special likely to be everything that fans and folks involved with the show wanted? Of course not. But the fact that we’re getting an ending at all feels fairly miraculous in the face of everything else. That is, of course, Good Omens’s entire brand. Few stories deserve the chance to end on their own terms as much as this one does. And even fewer onscreen relationships—particularly queer ones—that deserve the happily ever after that’s surely headed their way.
It was a long and winding road to bring this story to live-action. The original novel, co-written by Gaiman and the late, great Sir Terry Pratchett, was published in 1990, becoming a cult hit among nerds everywhere. However, it did not quite break into the mainstream the way fans desired at the time. A feature film adaptation from Terry Gilliam never off the ground in the 1990s, and we had to wait until the 2019 TV series to see Aziraphale and Crowley on our screens.
That the show was successful enough to spawn a second season was remarkable given that the original effort exhausted the source material. Now, the fact that we’re not only getting a third installment that will explore what the authors wanted the original ending to be for a sequel years ago is quite the gift. What I am saying is: All of this didn’t happen for us not to get a happy ending when it counts. But, more importantly, ending Good Omens with anything other than a fully joyous embrace of love in all its forms would be to spit in the face of the message the entire franchise is based on.
Technically, Good Omens is the story of a fussy angel (Aziraphale) and a caustic demon (Crowley) sent to Earth to guard and/or tempt the human population. They ultimately join forces to thwart the Apocalypse and save the world they’ve both come to consider home. But, at its heart, Good Omens is—and always has been—a love story. It is built of many themes and parts. There’s love between two celestial beings and the world they’ve made their home, between a group of teen best friends, between a witch and a witchhunter, between God and all the creation She has made. And, yes, between an angel and a demon who’ve spent the better part of six millennia entangled with (and pining for) one another.
That Crowley and Aziraphale love one another has always been apparent. Fans have been rooting for this crazy odd couple to become canon pretty much since the book’s publication date. And the Prime Video series has fully leaned into the idea in a way an early 1990s fantasy novel simply couldn’t. It replaced the original text’s winks and nudges toward the true nature of Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship with an open acknowledgement of how much they mean to each other. It also doesn’t hurt that co-stars Michael Sheen and David Tennant share the sort of lightning-in-a-bottle chemistry that’s the stuff of legend, infusing each scene with the quiet, lived-in affection that speaks of literal centuries of connection. There are longing glances, quiet gifts, co-dependent ticks, shared property rights, dramatic rescues, and even Regency-style dancing.
The show is the purest of rom-coms, built of familiar tropes, references, and plot beats that reinforce not just the arc that Crowley and Aziraphale’s relationship is so clearly following, but the larger mission statement of the entire series. In this world, love is a radical act. It is meant to change us, to reforge us, to leave us better than we were before. It is the means by which not only we grow, but also by which we change the world around us. It is the greatest gift that God has given to us, and the greatest gift we can give to each other. It is, after all, love that saves the world in the end.
On almost any other show, this kind of storytelling would feel deeply cringe, like the sort of pedantic moralizing that turns off non-believers, casual viewers, and people of faith alike. But Good Omens is so heartfelt, so completely uncynical in its optimistic view of creation, that it’s almost impossible not to be affected by it. We want to believe in the world it models for us, where hereditary enemies can fall in love, forgiveness is always possible, and faith is a promise that comes to pass in its own time.
It’s glaringly apparent at the end of the Season 2 finale that Crowley and Aziraphale’s story is unfinished. It is the sort of third-act break-up that traditionally forces its protagonists to face deep-seated fears and flaws before coming back together stronger and more certain of one another than before. With the final season’s now-reduced runtime, it’s very likely that Good Omens won’t be able to do much with several of its larger plots as we might like. But that’s okay! It’s not like any of that is what we’ll be tuning in for anyway. Is it a nice bonus? Sure.
However, we’re all really here for something bigger, a reminder that light can still shine in the darkness of dire circumstances—both real and fictional—and love can, and will, still conquer all. Crowley and Aziraphale belong together, and we deserve to see them realize that dream… with a little cottage in the South Downs on the side.
The post Aziraphale and Crowley Deserve Their GOOD OMENS Happy Ending appeared first on Nerdist.
The finale of season one of A Knight of the Seven Kingdoms has arrived, and it lands exactly where it should: bittersweet. This season feels like it slipped through our fingers far too quickly. In these brisk, almost sitcom-length episodes, the bond between our beloved Dunk and Egg has grown in a way that satisfies just enough to leave us desperate for more.
We open on Lyonel Baratheon (Daniel Ings) and Maester Yormwell (Paul Murphy) standing over a badly injured Ser Duncan (Peter Claffey). After the title card, we return to the maester tending Dunk’s wounds, clearly worried about how severe they are. Lyonel, ever the brute (yet loveable), dismisses him outright, calling him a “witch,” before offering Dunk a place at Storm’s End. He promises to love him like a brother.
Oh we know you will.
As Lyonel storms off, he adds the immortal line, “If not, then fuck you, I’ll hate you like a brother.” Dunk refuses the offer, believing that staying close to anyone only brings them pain and suffering. Dunk is drowning in guilt over Baelor Targaryen’s death, but that guilt only angers Lyonel further. Lyonel fought for Dunk too, and he is not offering charity. He is offering refuge. When Dunk wonders aloud why the gods favor him, Lyonel fires back that it is not favor at all. It is mockery. A war is coming, he says, and together they could be something formidable.
At Baelor’s funeral, Maekar Targaryen’s (Sam Spruell) face tells the entire story, shame and guilt etched into every line. Dunk spots Prince Valarr (Oscar Morgan), quiet and broken. Valarr tells Dunk that his father died wearing his armor. Plenty of sons die in their father’s armor, he says, but how often do fathers die in their sons’? Baelor could have been a great king. Why did the gods take him and not Dunk?
“I wondered the same,” Dunk answers.
Valarr dismisses him and walks away.
Dunk later finds Ser Raymun (Shaun Thomas), admitting that everyone seems to blame him for Baelor’s death. Raymun says he does not, and then pulls Dunk into a hug. As Dunk exits the tent, Rowan (Rowan Robinson) walks out. Raymun winks. Rowan crosses the space and kisses Raymun, long and unapologetic. Dunk is stunned.
The reveal lands. Rowan is Raymun’s wife.
Yes, the same Rowan we met in episode one.
We learn she is pregnant, and that is why Raymun married her.
Sus.
She casually mentions that it “feels like a boy,” leaving Dunk visibly rattled. Before he can process any of this, a messenger arrives. Prince Maekar demands Dunk’s presence.
Maekar tells Dunk that Prince Aerion (Finn Bennett) is being sent east. Time in the Free Cities, he hopes, might improve him. He acknowledges the whispers surrounding Baelor’s death but assures Dunk that the gods know the truth. Still, the realm will not. When battles are lost or crops fail, people blame fate or weakness. They will say Baelor would never have allowed this. But the truth is harder to swallow. A hedge knight struck him down, and the realm must live with that contradiction.
This is where the episode’s true conflict crystallizes. Not swords or blood, but conscience. Dunk is haunted by the cost of his choice. Could one foot, one moment of mercy, ever justify the death of a prince? The question follows him like falling leaves. What will tomorrow demand, and what will it take?
The realm insists a prince’s life weighs more than a hedge knight’s. Dunk’s blunt reply, “Not bloody likely,” cuts straight through that arithmetic. It is one of the story’s most defiant moments, refusing to let noble math go unchallenged.
Instead of exile or execution, Dunk is offered something more dangerous. A place at Summerhall. Proper training, a sword sworn, and a squire. Aegon Targaryen, already attached to him.
Dunk refuses.
His final line is quiet, respectful, and devastating. He is finished with princes, not out of hatred, but because he now understands the cost of serving them.
Egg has been listening the entire time, and his disappointment is written all over his face. When Dunk confronts him, Egg lies about spying. Dunk shuts the conversation down, building a wall. Egg fires back that maybe Dunk is not the knight he thought he was.
That wound cuts deep.
We flash back to Dunk’s past with Ser Arlan of Pennytree (Danny Webb). Dunk asks why he was never knighted and the truth surfaces, painful and unresolved. “Did you think I’d leave you?” Dunk asks. Ser Arlan does not answer.
“Ser?” Dunk calls out.
He lowers his head, believing his mentor has died, until Ser Arlan wakes, finishes his story, and delivers his final lesson. A true knight always finishes a story. Then he passes.
Back in the present, Raymun and Rowan are inseparable, their affection almost irritating to Dunk. A voice calls out, “Serving boy, my cup!” It is Prince Daeron (Henry Ashton). Dunk does not hesitate. He tells Daeron plainly that men died on the battlefield because of him.
Later, Dunk is asked again if he will take Egg as his squire. His response is guarded. He has already told Egg’s father the boy is not his responsibility. Princes bring trouble, expectations, and consequences.
The conversation turns darker. Monsters, we are reminded, are not always born. One cruel brother was once just a boy who liked fishing. The implication lingers and if madness exists, maybe it is planted early.
Dunk pushes back, not angrily, but firmly. Egg is not a monster. He is just a boy. Blood and destiny have not claimed him yet, but with guidance and discipline, he could still become something better. Taking Egg on is not just about teaching him to fight. It is about standing between innocence and the slow corrosion of power.
We see Egg staring at himself in the mirror, feeling the stubble as his hair grows back. Nearby, Aerion lies bloodied and broken. Egg approaches with a knife, until Maekar stops him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Egg drops the blade and collapses into tears.
Dunk asks to see Maekar. He agrees to take Egg as a squire, but not at Summerhall. Castles are not good for him, Dunk says. He belongs on the road. Maekar bristles, in fact he begs, almost. “He’s my last son.”
When Raymun learns Dunk plans to ride with Lyonel to Storm’s End, he gifts him a horse. Dunk thanks him and then admits he is riding in the opposite direction. He changes his mind and gives the horse back, saying an orchard may suit Rowan better.
Before leaving, Dunk embosses a seven-pointed star into an elm tree and walks away. Going back to Ser Arlan’s story about the penny tree.
Egg runs after him. “My father says I’m to serve you.”
“Ser,” Dunk corrects.
They ride off together, wandering aimlessly through the Seven Kingdoms, until Egg corrects him.
There are nine.
Crownlands. Westerlands. Stormlands. Riverlands. Iron Islands. The North. The Reach. Vale of Arryn. Dorne.
Dunk is speechless.
They ride into the sunset. The ghost of Ser Arlan rides for a moment, then turns and rides his own way. We cut to Maekar searching for Egg. “Where the fuck is he?”
Yep. Egg left without telling daddy.
See you next season.
The post ‘A Knight of The Seven Kingdoms’ Recap – Episode 6 “The Morrow” appeared first on Black Girl Nerds.
Did Hugh Jackman manifest both Avengers: Doomsday and Avengers: Secret Wars thirteen years ago? Thanks to a recently resurfaced interview, conducted while Jackman was promoting The Wolverine in 2013, it sure seems that way. He truly was “Marvel Nostradamus.” Or is that Nerdstradamus? In this recently resurfaced clip, Jackman talked about how he believed one day, the stars would align, and the disparate Marvel characters owned by different studios would all come together on screen. A man ahead of his time, Jackman essentially predicted Avengers: Doomsdayand Secret Wars. Here’s what he had to say back in the day:
I believe, and maybe I’m being optimistic, I understand at Marvel they’ve got Avengers, they’ve got a lot of big things going on. But at some point, I just find it almost impossible to believe there’s not a way to bring Iron Man, all the Avengers characters, Wolverine, the X-Men characters, Spider-Man, and somehow get them in together. I’m in for it, I’m totally in for it, because that would be really exciting for fans across the board.
Back in 2013, the world of Marvel Comics on film was wildly divided. The MCU was emerging, thanks to the recent mega-success of Iron Man and The Avengers. Meanwhile, Sony’s Amazing Spider-Man reboot with Andrew Garfield was chugging along. Twentieth Century Fox had their X-Men films coming out, with Days of Future Past still on the horizon. Oh, and the Fantastic Four reboot (aka Fant4stic) everyone tries to forget ever happened was shooting. It seemed like the Marvel Universe on film would never look like it did in the comics, with the Avengers, X-Men, Spidey, and Fantastic Four together on screen. Too many different studios, too much red tape.
But cut to today, and Hugh Jackman’s prediction proved true. It took Disney purchasing Fox, and the Andrew Garfield Spider-Man movies fizzling out, necessitating that Sony work with Marvel Studios. But because of those things, Jackman’s prediction came to pass. And while he hasn’t confirmed his participation in Doomsday or Secret Wars, he’s almost certainly going to be in the latter (if not both). So thank you, Hugh, for manifesting a truly united Marvel Cinematic Universe all those years ago. Marvel should at least give you a bonus check for that.
The post Hugh Jackman Predicted AVENGERS: DOOMSDAY 13 Years Ago appeared first on Nerdist.
An Arizona bartender wore two braids in her hair during one of her shifts. Then she noticed an immediate pay increase in tips.
TikToker Elizabeth Thorne (@elizabeththorne_) dubbed it the “braid effect” in a video with over 6,888 views. The phenomenon is apparently so common that other viewers have noticed it, too. According to Thorne, the way she wears her hair is directly correlated with the amount of tips she receives.