#Crowley x aziraphale fluff

[heohl-art]

You have no idea how ✨glad✨ I am that so many of you are loving my Ineffable Cats, so here's a little treat🤭😺✨

• "Jim", page 1 (of 3/4) •

So, I decided to re-draw ✨that hilarious scene✨ from season 2~

There will be probably three pages (or maybe four), hope you like it~

[eefaevie]

hold me close and don’t let go. please, please, please.

[vavoom-sorted-art]

I wonder how soft these feathers feel.

really, just an excuse to draw some pretty wings...

[metalmiez]

‚You’re getting sappy again, angel.‘

‚Hmmm, I don’t see why that’s a problem‘ said angel murmured and his grip around the demon’s waist tightened.

Crowley rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t fight the fond smile that creeped up his lips. His left hand found its way into the angel’s curls and he placed a gentle kiss on Aziraphale’s hairline, lingered into the soft touch. The angel hummed and caressed the demons back.

‚Who‘s the sappy one now?‘ he teased.

‚Oh, shut up‘ Crowley complained, lips still on the angel‘s forehead. He felt Aziraphale laugh.

‚I’m sorry, my love. Of course that‘s all part of your malicious, evil plan‘

‚M‘yea. Very malicious plan‘ the demon grumbled as he put his arms around the angels neck ‚Very, very evil.‘

[fenja-art]

An ineffable light study ✨

[siobhans-world]

Soooooo, I did some art to celebrate reaching the smutty part of my Good Omens Human AU fic - Telling tall tales.

OMG smut is hard to write when you're much more of a reader than a writer haha

[the-fucking-cannibal]

Love me tender 🩷

[actual-changeling]

a continuation of this post

-

Demons do not need to sleep, and yet he does, mostly because time spent unconscious is not time spent crying, which demons also do not do, and yet.

A deep, crushing pain resides in the middle of his chest—a heartbreak not entirely unfamiliar; he never forgot the smell of burning books and the lack of his angel's presence anywhere on earth. He never forgot what it felt like to lose Aziraphale, and the reminder he received was entirely unnecessary.

If anyone were to ask, he'd deny the crying, arguing that technically not a single tear has left his eyes in the last three months, sixteen days, and seven hours—not that he is keeping count—although there is no one left to care. Except Muriel, who adjusted surprisingly quickly to living on earth and having a demonic snake curled up by the window.

Crowley sleeps and endures a never-ending series of nightmares for about two months, and while he wakes and slithers out of his chair, he decides to remain in his serpent form.

The most surprising development is perhaps how easily he bonds with Muriel. They offer up a steady arm, having switched the uniform for a sunshine-yellow pastel jumper and a simple black skirt, and to hell with it all, the warmth, the touch, the soft breaths, and the regular heartbeat pulsating next to him do not heal the wound, but they stop the bleeding; for a while, anyway.

So they go about their days, Crowley coiled around their shoulders while they read or do inventory, reorganise books, and then organise them differently as soon as they're done, never selling a single copy. They sing, too, having apparently discovered a lot of earthly pleasures during his nap, low and quiet, soothing in a way he did not expect.

Once upon a time, not too long ago, the Serpent of Eden wrapped around an angel's shoulders was a familiar sight. The serpent remains unchanged, although if you were to ask anyone regularly passing by the shop, they'd tell you it seems sadder now, somehow.

The angel has changed, however.

As time passes, Crowley waits not in a garden but in a bookshop, longing for a thunderstorm and a white wing above his head. He watches the sky, he watches the door, and he waits and waits and waits.

[bea-n-art]

Winter at the Bookshop! Happy Holidays and a Happy New Year to everyone who comes across my page!

Buy it as a print or a Phone case: https://www.inprnt.com/gallery/beanart Support me as an artist here: https://ko-fi.com/beanart

[thethingswedotomorrow]

I love the Good Omens 'Night at Crowley's Flat' trope where after stopping the apocalypse in season 1, they go to Crowley's Flat and talk and kiss and fall in love and have a peaceful night, I do.

BUT

What if the night became 'The Night an Angel and a Demon Get Insanely Drunk and Teach Each Other How to Act'

Because honestly

They go to the flat, and ALL they know is they are going to have to swap themselves if they want to survive and finally be free from Heaven and Hell

But they have absolutely NO clue how to pull it off successfully

Sure, they know each other in and out.

Aziraphale has Crowley's eye color committed to memory (and also to paper, since Aziraphale spent 4-5 years in the late 80s trying to find a craft store in London that could help him do the color justice)

Crowley could find his angel in a crowd of millions (and not even just because only one single person in that crowd would be dressed in that ridiculous shade of tartan)

BUT they know they have to truly get this right, down to the exact detail.

So, naturally, they start by promptly opening the closest bottle of scotch that Crowley had available

Crowley was convinced this would be the easiest thing they've ever done

"Only you, Angel, would find a way to worry yourself to death AFTER stopping an apocalypse"

They begin with the easy part, switching corporations and clothing.

It was easy. Until Aziraphale realized he had to actually physically move in the very, very tight pants Crowley prefers.

The first three times he tries walking, he falls face down. And each time, realizes how it's equally hard to get back up again.

Not to mention that Crowley's corporation had learned that after 6000 years, it didn't really need all those vertebrae and bones since he never used them anyways

So now Aziraphale is just laying on the floor in terribly tight pants, very confused on how Crowley has managed all this time

(Crowley is also on the floor, having dropped there laughing after the 2nd attempt)

After they both get up (one much faster than the other) Crowley tries coaching the angel on how to walk like him

Until Crowley realizes he doesn't actually know how he walks, he just sort of wills himself forward and hopes his limbs keep up with him along the way

Eventually, after enough drinks, they settle on a technique called "Just pretend all your limbs are snakes. And you're a snake. Honestly, just as snake-y as you can manage, Angel."

Aziraphale, as difficult as this was for him, figures out that he may have gotten the easy side of this situation here. Crowley very much disagrees.

"Once an Angel, well, definitely not always an Angel, but close enough right?"

He very quickly realizes he may be wrong when Aziraphale asks Crowley to copy his walk

"Dear Lord Crowley, it cannot be that hard. You simply have to walk in a straight line"

It was indeed that hard.

Crowley has all his vertebrae now, but no knowledge of how they should be used

He tries to hold his hands behind his back and march forward, walking in what he thinks is probably, on some plane of reality, maybe a straight line

He's convinced that he's the perfect image of a stereotypical angel, head held high, an air of 'holier than thou' surrounding him

When Crowley asks Aziraphale, he only says, "Well, I suppose it will have to do for now."

Internally, Aziraphale thinks of the fact that Crowley looked identical to a bumbling penguin walking on ice.

When Crowly sits down, very pleased with himself for an impeccable performance ("As always, Angel. I've still got it." Aziraphale uncaps the vodka and drinks straight from the bottle, just staring into the distance.

He has just realized that their existence hinges on whether Crowley can figure out how to sit on a chair like a proper being with appendages and a spine.

And the odds are not in their favor, if they way the demon is sprawled out on the couch (reminding Aziraphale suddenly of a very well-done noodle, and suddenly he's starting to wonder if humans had the right idea with stress eating) is any indication

Crowley announces that he refuses to utter the words tickety boo, even if faced with destruction

"Honestly I think I'd rather have the holy water at that point" "Crowley." "I swear you just make sounds up sometimes, those aren't even real words"

4 bottles (and a very large order of takeout) later, they've got the act down well enough that it's starting to weird Crowley out

"Angel, seriously, enough with the nose. When have I ever done that with my nose? Exactly zero amount of times. I'm not a rabbit"

2 bottles later and Aziraphale has miracled Harry the Rabbit into the flat for a reason they can't quite remember

But they've got music playing from somewhere in the corner, and plenty of drinks, and the night goes on into the morning, and then they're sobering up and marching out for the most dramatic acting of their lives

And the world hasn't ended yet, so they'll probably be fine. Probably.

[karyton]

˚♡˚ The colour of love

[heohl-art]

Since SO MANY of you liked my Aziraphale-cat...🤭✨😺 (THREE illustrations today!!)

1. Introducing: Aziraphale (cat), I imagined him as a British Shorthair✨

2. Aziraphale's must have! You cannot possibly adopt him without each one of these essentials!✨😺

But MOST OF ALL:

3. They're a set, do not separate. (and consider to give them a room... they're quite loud)

🩷🤭✨

[katiefrog217]

A redraw of this classic scene:

Thanks to @ineffable-hyperfixation for the suggestion! :)

[raz-writes-the-thing]

These Old Things (Gomens Drabble)

Crowley x GN!Reader

Summary: Crowley has a bit of a self-revelation when his wings pop out upon seeing you.

Fic type: romantic fluff.

EVERYTHING: @winchxters

GOMENS: @coffee-and-red-lipstick @quickslvxrr @clarina04 @motionlessindoubt @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @florduarte @complimentary-breadbasket @thekirbishow @jaziona92 @slightlymediocree @strwbrrfd @paper-and-stardust (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Crowley didn't even realise it at first. He was so busy watching you. You- so perfectly human. So perfectly ordinary. You weren't even doing anything super out there either- you were just... out on your balcony watering a plant.

And yet to Crowley, a demon of Hell and a fallen angel, you were the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. How could you not be, really?

When you turn around, Crowley's worried he's about to get whisked away by some horrifying Hell-beast sent to drag him back down under and no, he doesn't mean Australia. Although sometimes he had to wonder if Australia wasn't some elaborately planned prank to poorly imitate Hell. But that was a different question.

Anyway, where was he? Oh, yes, when you turned around and made eye contact with him, Crowley thought that given the look on your face, maybe Hastur had somehow made a triumphant return. That would have been less than stellar and Crowley wasn't quite sure what to make of the implications of that if it were true.

"Mm- what," Crowley asked, brows creasing in concern as he twisted his rather bendy neck to look behind him. Seeing a swish of black cross over his shoulder, Crowley wondered just what it could- oh. Oh. His- his wings were out. Why were his wings out?

"You- you're-" you stuttered, pansies forgotten and drowning under the water you were still pouring on top of them.

"I am," Crowley replied, just as confused as you.

"God, Crowley," you breathed, setting the watering can down without breaking your gaze away from the feathered appendages stretching and flittering against the breeze in your apartment.

"Mm," Crowley hummed. "Not so much on the first, but go on."

He's nervous, you realise. About your reaction. He's worried you're going to react negatively and he's going to have to leave you. Silly demon. You could never.

"They're gorgeous," you rushed out, stepping towards him, hand outstretched gingerly. "Can I touch one?"

"Sure, I guess," he answered, actually looking rather unsure. He swallowed thickly when you make contact, fingers softly trailing the ridges of a feather. "These old things- had them for ages. Since the dawn of time, really... Almost."

"Where'd they come from?" You asked, ignoring his rambling. "As in- just now?" You clarified quickly. If you didn't, you were sure to receive a deflective answer.

"Not sure, really. Think maybe- because I was thinking about something. 'Bout you."

"About me?" Your eyes darted to his and you immediately understood. You could see it in those slitted eyes. He was in love. With you. Crowley was in love with you. Not that you didn't already know that- what with having been together for a good few months by now, but he had finally really and truly come to the realisation on his own. You were his forever.

"About you," he confirmed, voice soft.

It was a good think he was your forever, too.

[metalmiez]

It's ineffable, my dear

With a content sigh, the demon slung his left arm around the angel. He snaked his head across Aziraphale's right shoulder and nuzzled his nose against his cheek.

"Whatcha doin', angel?" Crowley murmured lazily and pressed a kiss against Aziraphale's temple. He felt the angel lean into the soft touch, humming softly.

"About to put the kettle on for my afternoon tea. Did you have a nice nap, dear?" His warm hand wrapped around Crowley's and tenderly caressed the skin on his wrist.

"Mrm. Would've been nicer if someone had allowed me to sleep around his neck."

Aziraphale chuckled.

"You nearly discorporated me last time, when you turned back into your human shape in your sleep, darling."

Crowley grinned about this particular memory. He wanted to tease his angel more, but his silly thoughts derailed when he felt Aziraphale's right hand reaching out and caressing his hair. The demon hummed appreciatively and leaned his face against the soft fabric of his sky-blue shirt. For Satan's sake, it shouldn't feel so nice to bask in Aziraphale's warmth and tender touch - he was a demon after all.

But on the other hand. He had grown quite comfortable in Aziraphale's presence. Every soft touch, every kiss, every affectionate nickname had burned away a tiny bit of Crowley's millennia-old defense. Truth be told, he really liked the tender affections, and to be soft and vulnerable and gentle. If he ever felt the urge to be demonic, he still had his plants to threaten.

With another sigh, he closed his eyes and leaned closer.

I felt the urge to draw some tooth rotting fluff again, and the urge to grin like an idiot was strong with this one. Hopefully, it gives you the same amount of dopamine as it gave me while drawing it <3

[nothankyoudear]

Okay, so we all saw how Crowley's Bentley LOVES Aziraphale in season 2, but what about Aziraphale's things loving Crowley?

When Crowley argues about how the Bentley is his, Aziraphale uses his bookshop as an example of how they basically share things anyway... SO I implore you to imagine: - Cups of espresso just miraculously appearing on the nearest surface to Crowley, and the cup's content changing every time depending on Crowley's mood (one time Crowley took a sip of what he thought was water and got absolutely CHOKED by straight vodka)

- Velvet Underground immediately starts playing for Crowley the moment he steps foot into the bookshop

- The lights in the bookshop get amped up to 1000 so Crowley can see properly with his sunglasses on indoors

But it doesn't stop there - what if the bookshop loves Crowley so much it ACTIVELY tries getting him and Aziraphale together so he'll stay forever???

Crowley got kicked out of his flat after Shax replaced him, right?? So what if now the bookshop is just doing things to try and make Crowley move in???

May I suggest:

- Aziraphale's bed becomes a double bed - A pair of red slippers starts appearing by the said double bed, right next to Aziraphale's white pair

- An absolutely GIANT snake enclosure just randomly appears one day at the back of the bookshop. I'm talking the fucking Beverly Hills mansions of snake enclosures - ANOTHER TOOTHBRUSH. AT THE SINK. - Some of the most beautiful, LUSTROUS plants starts growing in the crooks and crannies of the bookshop just so Crowley has a reason to come over and inspect them

PLS TELL ME YOU SEE THE VISION