comicallybadwriter

[comicallybadwriter]

actually @ every fanfiction writer whether you wrote something that got thousands of reblogs and comments and became a staple in your fandom, or you wrote one fic and deleted it, or you write mutilchaptered fics that never get a final update, or write short fics, or long fics, or used to write and now you don’t, or you deleted/orphaned your works, or you only share with friends:

thank you.

sharing your writing is hard. and sometimes it’s thankless. sometimes it’s such a negative experience that I wonder how anyone does it at all. but you are needed; you are wanted. whether or not we properly acknowledge it, you are a vital part of fandom culture. thanks for sharing.

[comicallybadwriter]

ORRDDDERR UP

Slowly working my way through the prompts I can, and if that means skipping some, then that's okay!

Chapter three of We'll Do it All is up on A03 now!

If you haven't read the first two chapters, YOU DON'T HAVE TO (but I would appreciate it nonetheless)

The start of the fic !!

Thank you to @ineffablyruined for making such amazing prompts 💛

Chapter Three and Week Five 💛 Mistaken Identity

When Aziraphale heard Crowley’s usual shout from downstairs, he beamed and came down from the bedroom, “All packed then?” Crowley asked, leaning against the outside of their bricked fence. Aziraphale smiled and nodded, pulling a suitcase out with him, full of books of course.

“You’ll love Greece Angel, lots of people. Lots of food for that belly of yours.” Crowley pointed out with a wink, and Aziraphale’s smile faltered. Crowley wasn’t usually one to point out Aziraphale’s stomach, not unless they were in bed together, or he was feeling especially self- conscious.

[comicallybadwriter]

the stages of writing:

amazing idea

doubt

despair

snacks

somehow, a finished story.

[comicallybadwriter]

controversial writing tip

open a document and start writing

[comicallybadwriter]

[comicallybadwriter]

Angel/Human Dialogue

"Is it considered rude to touch an angel's wings?"

"Fear not, little human! I'm just here to get my order. I already paid via the app."

"Aren't you here to make me choose the right option?" "You have free will, there is only so much I can do about that."

"You are... not quite what I thought an angel would be like."

"I don't see any wings. Can you retract them somehow?"

"So, how old do you really are?" "Can't be defined in human years."

"I think they meant the 1990s. Not the 1890s." "Oh well. Time flies by so fast when you're immortal."

"I'm a family friend if you will. I met your great-great-grandma at a market selling beautiful flowers. What a wonderful woman she was. And now I try to visit her offspring every once in a while."

"You still look like as if you were in the 1920s."

"I can't go with the trends. They change so fast, it gives me whiplash."

"I always thought the idea of having a pet was great. A creature full of love for me that I need to care for. Having a human is just like that, I think."

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! 🥰

[comicallybadwriter]

Well behind on @ineffablyruined's prompts of the week but I managed to get the second chapter out for this lovely story that I'm writing from each week!

We'll Do It All now has the second prompt Wanting in it!

I'll catch up eventually, but as said in rules, there's no deadline so I'm not rushing 💛

[comicallybadwriter]

Angel/Demon Prompts

Angel finding out that demons get homesick, so they try to recreate heaven for them.

Being sworn enemies for millennias doesn't mean they can't help each other out here and there.

They often get assigned the same humans and it became very personal to them who wins this time to influence the human.

It's the demon's favourite hobby: trying to get the angel to change sides.

The angel is known as a bit of a rebel, while the demon is known as a bit of a softie. They work really well together.

Demons still have wings, but they are quite damaged and sensitive. Thank father, they have a way-too-nice angel who is willing to help them with maintenance.

Angels are beings made of love, so how can it be wrong for them to love a demon?

It's their job to interfere with the angel's business. And the most disruptive thing the demon can think of is constantly flirting with that angel.

When they are both assigned long-term jobs on earth, it only makes sense to become roommates, right?

If you like my blog and want to support me, you can buy me a coffee or become a member! 🥰

[comicallybadwriter]

And the first thing Aziraphale thought was

why?

He'd seen the stars fall before, seen them light up the sky and bring joy to humans around them, but it never did that to Crowley. For all the effort to create such things, why couldn't they simply stay there? Where Crowley could see them and marvel at what he'd made? What they'd made together.

Crowley hadn't really wanted to go outside during the latest meteor shower, but he did so reluctantly at Aziraphale's hand. They'd laid a blanket out and poured wine. The angel had even brought biscuits.

"What's so good about tossing things out of the sky anyway?" Crowley had grumbled while sipping his wine, and Aziraphale couldn't answer directly. Couldn't say it was because it made them tougher. Stronger. More resilent.

He often wanted to know the answer as well. As to why the most beautiful things were tossed aside.

"I don't know starlight," he whispered back, their fingers tangled with each other, "But it gives the chance to be something just as beautiful, if not more."

And they both know Aziraphale wasn't talking about the meteors.

Today Aziraphale and Crowley sat in their garden and watched a meteor shower.

[comicallybadwriter]

Apparently we need one of these around here. So here we go!

If you're excited about a new fanfic you LOVE and can't wait to read more:

DO NOT: send the writer asks about when the next chapter is coming out.

This adds pressure and kills creativity dead, and sometimes even creates issues with disabilities like 'pathological demand avoidance'. DO NOT PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVELY TAG THE FIC AUTHOR IN POSTS ABOUT TIME MANAGEMENT (oh my GOD?!?!). You do not know what is going on in the author's life. They are not required to disclose this to you in order to be RESPECTED.

DO:

Leave comments about the things you liked and how they made you feel (this includes enthusiastic keysmash or emojis!)

Do fanart!

Do fanfic of the fanfic universe (that's a thing!)

Podfics!

Recommend the fic to other people!

Most of all, be patient. Creativity needs space and time, and fanfiction is written FOR FREE by people out of the sheer love of fandom. You are not owed updates. You cannot and MUST NOT rush updates.

Remember: If you convinced yourself to send an ask to an author about when the next chapter will be out, SO DID TWENTY OTHER PEOPLE.

[comicallybadwriter]

Ineffable PromptAThon

Created by the lovely @ineffablyruined 💛

Week One: Eye Contact

We'll Do It All chapter one is out now!

The warmth that spread through Crowley’s body was nothing new, and yet it felt like the first time all over again.

[comicallybadwriter]

I got a decent level of interest in this, so we're going to do it!! Welcome to week one of the Ineffable Prompt-A-Thon!

Week One:

Eye Contact.

Is it between the Ineffable Duo? Muriel and a duck? Actual eyes touching? If you can think it, you can create it!

The Rules Are Simple:

Every Friday until the Season 3 premiere, I'll post a prompt.

You will have a week to write, draw, paper craft, record, completely scrap and start from the beginning after a crisis of confidence (oh, is that just me?), and post your interpretation of the prompt

Tag your post #IneffablePromptAThon, #IneffablePAT #Ineffable Prompt-A-Thon, and/or #IPAT. Make sure to use them on Tumblr, X, IG, and AO3 so everyone can easily find your works!

Also tag your posts and AO3 with the Week Number and the Prompt, so we can all tell which prompt your creation accompanies.

Tag me @ineffablyruined in all of your posts, too, so I can reblog!

Add your contribution to the Ineffable Prompt-A-Thon collection on AO3 for this week. Link is below!

Look for the next prompt. Rinse. Repeat.

HAVE FUN!

This is meant to be zero stress. If you can't do a week, that's completely fine! Prompt not working for you? Skip it. Going to be late? No worries at all!

It is just meant to be a fun outlet to get your creative juices flowing and keep the fandom well-fed with copious amounts of fic and fun until our Ineffable Duo makes their return to our screens (whenever that may be).

There is no length requirement, no rating requirement, no timeline requirement. It can be canon-compliant, AU, crossover, whatever tickles your fancy, as long as it's Good Omens related and incorporates the prompt. It's all Tickety-Boo!

If you want to be tagged in the posts, let me know and I'll do my best to accommodate.

Link to this week's sub-collection:

[comicallybadwriter]

Warlock ran over to one of his bookshelves, taking a handful of children stories and dropping them in Crowley’s lap happily. She took that as a sign that he wanted to read, so Crowley sat down on the sofa in the living area, letting the boy curl up beside him as she opened the first book. “How about this one?”

“No!” Warlock pushed the book aside, and picked up a different one, “This one!” Crowley rolled her eyes and flipped the book to the cover, reading it aloud. “Guess how much I love you,” she sighed. Not exactly the type of book that she would have wanted to buy a kid she was supposed to be raising to be evil, however- well, he had wanted the book at the time, and Warlock was such a sweet child. So in need of affection when his parents so often took off to play adult life.

She would have thought they’d realised by now, raising their boy was part of their life.

“Of course darling,” Crowley ran a hand through his hair, watching as he cuddled up next to her, waiting for the story to start. So she tucked a hand around his arm so he could cuddle her, and opened the book softly, beginning to read.

“Little Nutbrown Hare, who was going to bed, held on tight to Big Nutbrown Hare’s very long ears. He wanted to be sure that Big Nutbrown Hare was listening.” Crowley glanced over at Warlock, watching the picture intently with soft eyes. “Guess how much I love you,” he said softly, repeating the words of the story to his Nanny.

Crowley smiled fondly, a warm feeling trickling in her chest.

“Oh I don’t think I could guess that.” This story is on A03 [WIP] Read it here

[comicallybadwriter]

I've had this little idea in my head for a while now, so I decided to sit down and plot it out.

Disclaimer: This isn't meant to be some sort of One-Worksheet-Fits-All situation. This is meant to be a visual representation of some type of story planning you could be doing in order to develop a plot!

Lay down groundwork! (Backstory integral to the beginning of your story.) Build hinges. (Events that hinge on other events and fall down like dominoes) Suspend structures. (Withhold just enough information to make the reader curious, and keep them guessing.)

And hey, is this helps... maybe sit down and write a story! :)

[comicallybadwriter]

“You don’t need to talk.” Aziraphale started, making an obvious choice to keep his hands to himself, even though reaching out to comfort the demon was all he wanted in that moment. Crowley had to chide himself for thinking it was what he wanted as well. “But I need to apologise, for everything I’ve done to you Crowley, everything I’ve put you through and all I’ve kept from you.”

Crowley swallowed thickly, still refusing to look the angel in the eye. He was staring out the window, watching as Nina’s shop took customers in various numbers. A couple of humans were sitting in their designated spots. It made the demons heart stutter.

“I-” The angels voice faltered, then came back after a second of breathing- “I’m sorry for leaving you Crowley, and for not explaining why. I shouldn’t have assumed you wanted to be an angel again, I just- I remember you so vividly with that beautiful bright smile and those stunning white wings, and I got excited.” Aziraphale had started fiddling, not that it was uncommon for him to do that, but it was always a weak point with Crowley’s ability to stay mad. “I wanted to be able to change Heaven so bad, to be fit for you, and safe for the world. For humanity. I wanted- I still do really, to be able to say we were on the same side, and Heaven not be able to do a damned thing.”

That got Crowley’s attention, “You can’t just-!” His eyes went wide in search of something to say, but Aziraphale shushed him again, “I said far worse things upstairs before I got back, let me finish.” The angel shifted on the bed, and sucked in a breath, “You had done nothing to be forgiven for… after you- we, I mean that is-”

“I get it, Aziraphale.”

“Yes, well,” He cleared his throat, face warming up at the memory. “I shouldn’t have… it shouldn’t have happened like that. There was just something nagging me in the back of my head, shouting over and over again, that it wasn’t- that I had to leave. That there were far more important things to do in that moment in time.” Once the words had left his mouth, Aziraphale realised how it sounded, “That isn’t to say I’m making excuses! I merely mean, I’d never felt like that before, my head was… fuzzy. And after what the Metatron had offered me, and oh- I was so excited to tell you- to change the whole thing. To let you know that I would be there for you at the drop of a dime But I-"

Silence filled the room until Aziraphale spoke again, desperately hoping that he’d get Crowley to speak to him again, to say anything to him, scream shout. Not just one worded answers. “So I- I well, I came back down when I heard you were… well it doesn’t matter does it. I came back down, and I don’t regret a thing.”

Finally, Crowley grumbled something incoherent, and Aziraphale perked up. “Pardon, dear?”

“I said, it does matter.” Crowley stood up from the bed, then reached out to nothing in particular, before dropping his hand again. “It should matter. I should matter Aziraphale! But you-!” His voice broke for a moment, before the demon took an unsteady breath in- “You chose them. When it mattered.”

It wasn’t supposed to go like this, Crowley knew that, but he couldn’t help it. He was tired, he was scared, and he was angry. He wanted to go back to before, when they could get drunk in the bookshop downstairs without visitors, and Crowley could snap his fingers, so the record player was making beautiful music that seemed to always entice the angel to hum along no matter how intoxicated. He wanted to go back.

“I was the one breaking into the shop when it was burning to the ground, terrified you had been taken from me forever, and who drove through literal fire and flames to get to you when I found out you were okay! I was the one who went up to Heaven. I was the one Gabriel told to walk into Hellfire, and I was the one who had him look at me- who he thought was you- and tell me to shut up and die. Me not them!” Crowley felt tears slipping down his face as he waved his hand upwards towards Heaven. “I went up and found out what was wrong with Gabriel! Told that anyone involved would be erased with the book of life! Me! Me! No one else!” Crowley felt like he was losing his grip on reality, jumping around with every shouting word he let out. His hair flailing at his shoulders as he sniffed and wiped his face.

“And I-” he took another breath in, though it did nothing but indicate how he was shaking- “I was the one who stood beside you when push came to shove. I believed in you.”

The anger collapsed alongside the demon, and he fell back on the bed, a right sobbing mess. If Aziraphale wasn’t the issue there, then Crowley would have sunk into the angels arms and appreciated the hug, but he didn’t. He couldn’t.

“Crowley I-” shouldn’t have left you alone to carry so much- “I-” loved you so much it hurt to be near- “I- I can’t possibly find the words to apologise. If it meant I had to stand on my hands for the next century and do our apology dance upside down, I’d do it for you. I need you to know how sorry I am.”

[comicallybadwriter]

"I thought you were dead."

"No I was just uh- sleeping?"

"You were bleeding."

"I can bleed and sleep at the same time."

"Why'd you not wake up when I picked you up?"

"We're in the middle of a war, Aziraphale. You think I have all the answers?"

Good omens pieta moment but aziraphale is carrying a wounded crowley in his arms all teary-eyed and then trips and drops him and crowley, supposed to be unconscious or dead, curses loudly

[comicallybadwriter]

Crowley had been pacing for hours. Well, it felt like hours, realistically it was a mere four minutes and twenty- three seconds. Aziraphale knew this, because it was getting on his nerves while he read in the silence of his bookshop.

"Dear, is there something on your mind?" Aziraphale had already asked this twice, and the same answer had always been-

"M'pacing, Angel. Demons don't pace. They lurk- They- They do not pace-"

But there had never been any addition to that, including just now, when Aziraphale had asked, and received the same response. "Alright, how about this." Aziraphale shut his book and stood up, grabbing Crowley by the shoulders to make them look at each other. "Take those silly shades off, sit down on the sofa, and I'll get some whiskey."

It was not a proposal, more as such a demand, and Crowley obeyed as he would anytime he heard that tone in Aziraphale's voice.

When Aziraphale returned, Crowley was teetering on the edge of removing his shades, "Crowley, please tell me what's wrong." He whispered, leaning forward and handing him the glass of whiskey.

Crowley hadn't responded immediately, but he had mumbled something to do with being nervous. So, Aziraphale didn't ask him to take his shades off. "Why are you nervous darling? It's only us?" He gently wrapped his fingers around Crowley's free hand, and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "You needn't be nervous about anything."

After the first glass of whiskey, Crowley had visibly relaxed, but he was still bouncing his knee as he sat. "Feel like- I dunno.." He growled, "It's hard to explain-!" His face fell in his hands. "Feellikem'gonnamesseverythingup.." He muttered into his palms, and Aziraphale sighed, pulled that gorgeous face out from hiding.

"Crowley," Aziraphale asked softly, "May I take these off?" He asked, fingers running across the arm of his shades. When the subtle nod was made, Aziraphale did just that. "There we are, oh your absolute gorgeous thing. Look at you." He pressed a kiss to his temple, then his noise, then each side of his cheek. "The most darling thing I've ever laid eyes on. That's what you are."

Crowley whined at the praise, going pink in the face, "Angeeel..." He went to bury his face again, but his hands had been taken by Aziraphale's. "Darling you want to ask something, and you certainly may ask as you wish."

And when Crowley opened his mouth to ask, the words came tumbling out.

I want to kiss you

I want to hold you

I want to feel your hands along my skin and never let go

Each statement had Azirpahale blushing, and he giggled at a final sentence that Crowley managed to squeak out. "Oh my dear, you've hardly any reason to be nervous about your wants and desires, because I very much feel the same.

And the kiss they shared this time, it wasn't chaste or sweet or timid. It wasn't to ease nerves, but instead to feel them heighten. Aziraphale wanted to feel each place those lips touched him, and feel them burn with more more more each time they parted.