dcocca

[dcocca]

Hi! This is the moment when I gently remind you that there are tags. And these tags say that this fic was always going to have smut in it. So, I am happy to announce that the smut has arrived! At barely 180K words. 😂

And it’s NOT skippable. It is embedded in the whole body of this chapter and it’s an important development in the narrative. I wanted it to feel slow, thought through, and important for them.

Find Chapter 27 here! 👇

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61024075/chapters/167402230

An excerpt (smut free!):

The night air was sharp against Aziraphale’s cheeks as they stepped out onto the quiet London street. The chill sent a shiver down his spine, but Crowley was already there, pulling him close, tucking him against his side as if it were the most natural thing in the world. And Aziraphale, feeling a sense of contentment, nestled there with the utmost pleasure.

He noted with delight that, even though they had left OffTopic, the spell had not been broken: the warmth, the things they had said to each other, the love—they were all still there, wrapping around them.

Aziraphale lifted his face and brushed Crowley’s jaw with his nose, and Crowley lowered his head to meet him halfway, pressing a soft kiss to the spot between his nose and cheek. Aziraphale giggled at the tingling sensation.

Crowley grinned at the sight of Aziraphale so delighted. They were both drunk on happiness and the emotions they had experienced that evening, laughing like a pair of schoolboys, without restraint.

“Feelin’ cuddly, angel?” Crowley asked, amused.

Aziraphale answered by kissing his jaw gently, then moving to a tender spot just beneath his ear and planting a lingering kiss there. “I feel more than cuddly, my dear,” he replied, unable to hide the longing in his tone. It was a bold statement for him, but for the first time in his life, he felt a warmth and affection radiating directly from his chest, and he could not contain it—he had to let it out. And there was no one he would direct that warmth and affection towards but Crowley.

Crowley swallowed. “Hell, Aziraphale,” he murmured. “Ye’re gonna kill me.”

“Oh, shush,” the bookseller replied, amused, planting another kiss under his jaw. “You are made of sterner stuff. You made that clear enough tonight.”

Crowley chuckled. “Dunno ‘bout that. I’ve never come across a ‘Ziraphale before. This is still uncharted territory for me.”

At that, Aziraphale pulled back slightly and took Crowley’s hand, intertwining their fingers and locking them together as if they were perfectly shaped for each other. “Then let’s explore together.”

Tagging @goodomensafterdark 💙❤️

[dcocca]

And it was all yellooooow 💛💛💛💛

[dcocca]

Hi! I’m back for a quick update about Painted in the Margins, for whoever might be interested! ☺️

I finished editing and re-reading Chapter 5! It has taken more time than I would have imagined, because it revealed itself to be quite the delicate plot point. But I’m very satisfied with how it came out! Can’t wait to let you read it!

Word counter: 10.8K!

Yeah, I know. I said I’d start slowly. Chapter 1, 2 and 3 landed on 6K, which is fine. Chapter 4 came out as a juicy 8K, but that was okay because plenty of things happened there. Chapter 5, however… was completely unplanned. 😂

I hope the chapters’ word counter won’t increase much further, otherwise we’ll end the story with 25K-words behemoths. 🤣

As a preview, here’s the beginning of Chapter 5:

The buzz of Anthony’s phone drags him from sleep like a rope around his ankle—persistent, irritating—and it’s loud enough to make his head throb. He groans, fumbling blindly across the mattress for the device, eyes still shut, body stubbornly warm and buried under the duvet.

Bzzzz. Bzzzzzz.

“Christ alive,” he mutters, finally cracking one eye open. He blinks blearily, eyes still heavy with sleep, trying to adjust to the soft morning light filtering through the old battered curtain he’s never got round to replacing.

He squints at the screen as he brings the phone as close to his face as possible, his vision still fuzzy.

Five missed calls.

Two from Anathema, three from Bub.

The notifications are skyrocketing, increasing by the second. Thirty-six. No—forty. He blinks, and suddenly it’s fifty-four?

What is happening here? Guesses are welcome. 😆

[dcocca]

some gentle, tender, loving mutual caretaking after a battle

[dcocca]

Best GO comic ever made? Best GO comic ever made.

[dcocca]

This is filling my heart to the brim. 🥰

Look at Crowley and Aziraphale, eating sushi on the floor together from Chapter 8 of Pages About You, Pages About Me, aren’t they gorgeous? 😍🥹

And they’re drawn in different styyyles to match their passion for books and comics. 🤩

I immediately embedded this incredible fan art to the chapter itself, go check it out!

And know what else you should check out? @klikandtuna’s work! She’s one of my favorite fic writers, a great artist, and an incredible human being (even if she hates puns).

“You have a knack for picking titles, Crowley, I have to give you that."

At that, the comic book seller chuckled. "Told ye I know my stuff. Oh, could ye repeat that for a second? Wanna record it. I could project it outside the shop as a seal of quality. A.Z. Fell’s words of approval," Crowley declared dramatically, spreading his arms wide.

—

Fanart for @dcocca’s soft gorgeous fic Pages About You, Pages About Me (excerpt is from Chapter 8). I’m completely gone on these two precious doofuses and will probably be doing some more art for it BECAUSE I CAN 💛💛💛

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61024075/chapters/155895109

[dcocca]

Oi! Look at what has just materialized a block away from my house! 😍

More street art! 🎨

This was a group project called Bestiary. Different artists took a piece of wall and dedicated it to an animal—with their own spin!

Oh, I’m loving how street art has been popping up around me since starting writing Painted in the Margins!

Can’t wait to share with ya’ll this AU with StreetArtist!Aziraphale and Bookseller!Crowley. I think you’ll love them.

[dcocca]

Hi! Sorry for making you wait for this update, but I barely survived a Easter Monday Italian lunch, and I can barely breathe after eating so much. 😂

But I hope Chapter 26 will be worth the wait. It’s a 16K monster. It’s the longest chapter of the entire fic, and after reading it you will understand why I couldn’t cut it in half like I did with the others.

It’s been one of my favorite chapters to write, and I hope you will enjoy it. It sits very close to my heart.

Read it here 👇👇👇

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61024075/chapters/166833415

An excerpt:

Aziraphale was just a few metres from A Helluva Read at precisely half past twelve, holding a paper bag with their sandwiches and a cardboard tray carrying two cups of coffee—one labelled "Fell" and the other "Six-shot nightmare." Over his shoulder, he carried a tote bag containing Blankets, which made him walk slightly tilted to one side, so heavy was it.

He allowed himself a moment to take in the shop in its entirety. It felt like only yesterday that, on an ordinary day in early November, the bookseller had stepped into the comic book shop with a jam jar as a makeshift welcome gift, having forgotten to properly greet the new shopkeeper on Whickber Street. He had felt anxious and unsettled by the visual noise of the comics on display in the window, and had frowned at the brightly coloured sign with that mischievous little demon perched just above the door.

Now, looking at it again, the same shop seemed… full of promise. Inviting. Another little corner of the world where he knew he could take refuge and find comfort, should he need it.

He inhaled and exhaled, then took a few steps towards the door and pushed it open. Upon entering, he saw Crowley perched on his stool behind the counter on the opposite wall—like always—his hair tied back in a messy bun, sunglasses shielding his eyes, a laptop open in front of him, though clearly left forgotten. The comic book seller’s attention was instead directed at someone else he was chatting with, and Aziraphale recognised Muriel, the host of the shows at OffTopic. Muriel wore a lovely yellow shirt and high-waisted orange trousers, strikingly bright against the softer winter tones.

As soon as Aziraphale entered, both of them turned towards him at the same time.

Crowley’s face lit up with an immediate, toothy grin the moment his eyes landed on him. “Angel!”

The redhead seemed to be radiating warmth from every pore. Aziraphale allowed himself to soak it in, like the moon gathering and reflecting the light of the sun.

Tagging @goodomensafterdark ❤️💙

[dcocca]

This is now my new favorite best friend duo

[dcocca]

❤️‍🩹 Comfort 🫂

Sometimes a little love can miracle a little smile on someone's face, even in the darkest of times 🥰

April's Patreon sticker! You can still join to get it! Ko-Fi Shop | Patreon

[dcocca]

I’m in LOVE 😍

SPIDERVERSE OMENS

Inspired by a conversation with @dcocca 💛

[dcocca]

If you plan to have a good cry today, this fic is for you.

Crowley learns to love that which he cannot keep. (Alternate title: "Crowley's Teenage Girl Horse Story.") 1766 - 1799

Words: 18,277

Status: Complete

Rating: General Audiences

@klikandtuna

https://archiveofourown.org/works/53926891

[dcocca]

Here I am with a weekly update about how the writing of Painted in the Margins is going: I just finished editing Chapter 4, started writing the first few paragraphs of Chapter 5!

Chapter 4 has wrapped up at a higher word count, with 8K words in total.

I won’t say anything about the contents of the chapter, but here’s a small out of context piece: Anthony sorting a box full of vegan cookbooks from the nighties. Yeah, it’s completely random. But I’m not going to give anything of the plot away. Hope you’ll still enjoy it. 😆

👇👇👇👇

Little extra info: How It All Vegan is the title of a real cookbook from the 90s. 🤣

[dcocca]

Hello! I hope you’re doing well! Here’s Chapter 25, full of fluff and banter about first-ish dates. And literary musings, of course. I hope you’ll enjoy it! I surely had fun writing it. ☺️

Find it here 👇

https://archiveofourown.org/works/61024075/chapters/166203148#workskin

An excerpt:

After the lotus root, Aziraphale grew bolder as the meal went on. He delved into the seafood plates, sampling prawns with a delicate sweetness and scallops that melted on his tongue. He found a fondness for enoki mushrooms, their springy texture pleasing him, and was surprisingly charmed by the tender chewiness of tofu skin.

He was having the time of his life. Among the rising steam from the bubbling broth and the lively chatter between them, Aziraphale’s cheeks had turned a warm shade of pink, mirroring his mood. He felt as though he were glowing, and the looks Crowley gave him—no, not just looks, there were times Crowley outright stared at him rather dreamily—made his chest flutter with excitement. There was something in the air, thick and undeniable, just waiting to take shape. Aziraphale suspected something would happen soon, though he didn’t yet know quite how it would unfold.

At one point, with a sly grin, as he plucked out a piece of anglerfish drenched in the fiery broth and ate it with exaggerated relish, Crowley announced: "Let’s talk ‘bout love."

Aziraphale nearly choked on his plum wine. He hadn’t expected Crowley to drop the L-word so suddenly. "Love?"

Crowley grinned even wider. "Yes, why not? Today I finished The Remains of the Day, ye finished Blankets. Surely we’ve got plenty to say on the subject."

"Oh," Aziraphale said, caught off guard and unsure of how to respond. He decided to buy himself a moment by picking up a piece of bok choy, dipping it into the broth, swirling it, and waiting a few seconds for it to cook. His brow furrowed in concentration as he completed the task. "Alright, let’s talk about it," he said finally.

Tagging @goodomensafterdark 💙❤️

[dcocca]

blame the angel. those were very clear instructions, after all.

[dcocca]

The brain rot is real and present and will not be leaving for a very long time

[dcocca]

✨ Small update about the writing of my next fic Painted in the Margins ✨

Chapter 2 and 3 are finished! Written, reread, polished, and locked. 🔒

They are hovering at a consistent 6K word count, but I figure the number will rise as the story goes on and the interactions grow more complex.

I’ll leave a sneak peek below, from chapter 3, about something that’s very important to our Anthony: mate. 🧉

Are you familiar? If not, you will surely get to know more about it while reading this fic. 😄

👇👇 Enjoy👇👇

There’s care in the way he moves. First, from one of the drawers behind the counter, he takes out the small round gourd—slightly stained from years of use—and then the bombilla, its metal smoothed from long handling. Next comes a dark tin with a paper label, handwritten in looping script: yerba mate. He opens it slowly, letting the earthy scent waft up—grassy and grounding.

Ezra watches in silence.

Anthony fills the gourd just over halfway with the dried leaves. Then, with practiced ease, he tilts it, creating a slope—a little hollow on one side. Into that space, he gently pours a splash of cool water—not hot, not yet—just enough to moisten the leaves.

“Let it bloom,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “Wake it up.”

Ezra leans in, intrigued. “You take this very seriously.”

Anthony glances up. “It’s not just a drink. It’s a ritual. It deserves respect.”